_Rembang, April 10th, 1904._[1]
Highly Honoured Friends:
It must have seemed strange to you to have heard from me in reply to
your cordial letter, and to have had no word of acknowledgment for the
splendid presents with which we have been so greatly pleased. If every
thought sent to you had become a deed, what an array of letters you
would now have! Forgive me, dear friends, that no word has gone to you
long before this.
The change from a simple young girl to a bride, a mother, and the wife
of a highly placed native official--which means much in our Indian
life--is so great that I could think of nothing at first but of how best
to fulfil my new duties. But that was not the only reason. Shortly after
our wedding, my husband was taken very ill. After that I myself began to
ail. Even now the Rembang climate does not agree with me. We live flat
by the sea, but what, at Japara was an advantage, is here, at Rembang, a
plague. Here we must have a care for the sea wind, which is very
unwholesome, because it must first blow over coral reefs and slime
before it reaches us. But let me thank you, also in my husband's name,
most gratefully for the magnificent presents which you sent to us at the
time of our marriage.
The interesting painting, and the coloured photograph of Jena hang in
our sitting-room, where my husband, who is a great lover of statues and
pictures, keeps his art treasures. I look at them so often with great
pleasure and then many loving, grateful thoughts fly to my friends in
Jena. How charming of you to want to give me a "boomkoek," the German
national cake, which no single festival in your country must be without.
That you were not able to express the thought in deeds, makes no
difference to me. I appreciate it just as much as though it had become
an accomplished fact.
And now I must tell you about my new life. You will be glad to hear of
that, will you not? Because you take such interest in your Javanese
friend, and have been so concerned about her future. God be thanked,
your fears for me have proved groundless. A young wife writes you these
lines, a wife whose happiness beams in her eyes and who can find no
words adequate to express it.
My husband (and it is known through the whole of Java that I am
different from others; yet he has bound himself to me) is not only my
husband, he is my best friend.
Everything that I think has been thought by him too, and many of my
ideas have already been expressed by him in deeds. I have laid out for
myself a full life. I have planned to be a pioneer in the struggle for
the rights and freedom of the Javanese woman. I am now the wife of a man
whose support gives me strength in my efforts to reach the ideal which
is always before my eyes. I have now both personal happiness and also my
work for my ideal.
I know that you will both be pleased to know that your little Javanese
friend of the turbulent spirit is now anchored in a safe haven. I wish
that you could see me in my new surroundings. You know how little I
cared for luxury and worldly position; they would have no value in my
eyes, were it not that it is my husband who gives them to me. But they
are means by which I may reach my goal more easily. The Javanese are
deeply loyal to their nobles. Everything that their chiefs desire is
readily accepted by them. So now at the side of my husband I shall reach
the hearts of the people much more easily.
The success of the plans for our school shows that I have their
confidence.
We began to teach at home in Japara, and now our younger sisters are
carrying on the work there. Our little school now has one hundred and
twenty pupils, daughters of native chiefs. My sisters give them
instructions. But here too I have begun our work; my own little
daughters were my first pupils. So you see that the little Javanese are
beginning to realize the dream of their girlhood.
[1] To Professor and Mrs. Anton of Jena.