Many Yet One

Notes - Many Yet One

2010-01-16T08:16:00.000-08:00

Set in present-day Yogyakarta, Indonesia, "Many Yet One" explores the cultural contributions to Indonesian cuisine, art, history, and folklore by the Turkish, Dutch, Australian, English, and Japanese. Additionally, it focuses on the origins of the culture, including the Javanese who originally inhabited these 7000+ islands."Many Yet One" was especially written for parents to share with their children, ages 7-10.

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Indigo Nights

2009-09-03T16:10:00.000-07:00

As the children played badminton, Mr. Urwani walked to the market. He purchased a brand new pack of clove cigarettes, a sachet of kindling logs, and several packs of marshmallows.

As he returned from the market, Reine saw him carrying the grocery bag in one hand and toting the bundle of kindle in the other.

“Uncle Yong, what are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” he replied.

Without another word, he went up the front steps and into the house. Moments later, the screen door slammed as Mr. Urwani exited the back of the house.

He sat everything on the ground and pulled a whittling knife out of his pocket. He flicked the knife open and unfastened the kindling. Then, he built a small log cabin with the sticks. He emptied the grocery bag before crumpling the bag and stuffing it into the center of the log cabin. As soon as he lit the paper bag, it caught fire. The fire quickly spread to the kindling. Mr. Urwani added a few bigger logs and the fire was well underway.

Darkness from the disappearing sun and light from the growing campfire drew the children like fireflies to the Urwani’s backyard.

Mr. Urwani had yet another surprise as he went to the farthest edge of the backyard and pulled branches from a gorse bush. He shaved the twigs until they were smooth and clean.

“What are these for?” asked Susi.

“Roasting marshmallows,” replied her father.

He pierced a marshmallow with a twig and handed it to one of the boys. He continued until every child had a marshmallow roasting over the fire. Mrs. Urwani came outside and sat next to her husband. He whittled one more skewer and placed a marshmallow on the end before handing it to Mrs. Urwani.

“Let’s make s’mores,” suggested Susi.

“Ooh, That’s a good idea! I love roasted marshmallows and chocolate bars between two graham crackers,” replied Reema, “but we don’t have any graham crackers or chocolate bars.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” replied Mrs. Urwani.

She handed her marshmallow to her husband and went back inside. She came out with a platter full of butter cakes and other goodies.

“We can’t make S’Mores with that,” said Susi.

“These will be better than S’Mores,” said Mrs. Urwani.

Everyone watched while Mrs. Urwani sliced the butter cake into thin pieces and laid each piece in the center of a plate. The butter cake was a sweet bread that tasted like a light, fluffy angel food cake.

She slid one the marshmallow off her skewer, resting it atop the butter cake. She drizzled peanut sauce from the Nasi Goreng over the top. Mr. Urwani cut fresh coconut meat into tiny cubes, sprinkling it over the melted marshmallow. Then, Mrs. Urwani shaved nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves over the top.

She did this for every child. Every child gobbled their dessert before proceeding to roast more marshmallows for more of Mrs. Urwani’s dessert.

“What do you call this?” asked Susi..

“I don’t have a name. I just made it up.”

“May I have another?” asked Reine.

“That’s what we’ll call it!” exclaimed Yudhi.

“What will we call it?” asked Mrs. Urwani.

“Nothers! May I have a ‘nother’?”

“Very clever,” said Mr. Urwani.

All the children asked for a ‘nother. Then, then asked for another ‘nother until every ‘nother was gone.

After the sun was long gone, the neighbor children returned home. Mr. Urwani fetched his rocking chair from the front porch and sat it next to the dwindling campfire.

Mrs. Urwani grabbed a chair and an unfinished dress from the sewing room and sat down next to her husband. Yudhi put away the sports equipment while Reema fetched her Conglak board from her room.

“Anyone want to play Conglak?”

“I do,” replied Susi.

Reema sat the Conglak board next to the fire. Reine watched as Reema and Susi set up the game. The board was fashioned like an outrigger canoe, long and narrow. There was dragon’s head facing outward on each end. Sixteen holes were drilled inside the canoe. There were two rows of seven round holes along each side. At each end, just behind the dragon’s heads, were two oblong holes.

Susi and Reema poured seven puka shells into each of the seven holes in each of their rows. Then, they began their game. Reema and Susi each picked up a random handful of shells from one of the cups on their side of the playing board. Simultaneously, they distributed the shells from their hand, pouring one into each bowl. The act of pouring the shells into the holes was called sowing.

When they reached the oblong end bowls, they sometimes skipped them and sometimes they placed a shell inside, just as they had with the remaining bowls.

“Why are you skipping bowls?” asked Reine.

“This is my ‘house’. I collect stones in my house, while I skip my sister’s house. This is just one of the rules,” stated Reema.

When they dropped the last shell in their hands into the appropriate hole, they picked up all the shells in that hole and continued sowing their ‘seeds’. It was only when the last shell landed in an empty hole or their own house that a player ended their turn. Susi finished first.

Reema finished sowing her ‘seeds’. Since her turn lasted longer, she got to go again, grabbing the shells out of any hole on her side and dispersing them around the board, hole-to-hole.

Meanwhile, Yudhi set up his telescope at the farthest edge of the backyard to stargaze, The sky had turned blue-black. Like all people living near the equator, the Indonesians were used to the quick sunsets.

Mrs. Urwani finished the hem on the plain white dress before setting it aside. She fetched a a brick of paraffin wax and placed it in a shallow pie pan. Slowly, the paraffin melted into a soupy liquid.

“What are you doing?” asked Reine.

“I’m creating batik,” replied Mrs. Urwani.

“Mom,” said Reema, “I don’t know why you spend weeks at a time creating just one dress. There are hundreds, maybe thousands for sale on Malioboro Street.”

“I do it because I love doing it. You have to remember, I used to do this for a living,” replied Mrs. Urwani.

“It’s what sent you to school as a child,” added Mr. Urwani.

Mrs. Urwani stirred the paraffin until it was smooth. Then, she added part of a beeswax honeycomb. The beeswax quickly melted into the paraffin. She stirred the wax until it was smooth again.

“Reine, could you hand me that tool?” asked Mrs. Urwani.

Reine grabbed the tiny tool. It had a wooden handle at one end and a metal spout at the other. Mrs. Urwani used a spoon to scoop wax from the pie plate to the batik tool.

“I use this device, which is called a ‘canting’, to put wax onto the dress.”

Mrs. Urwani drew a floral design upon the front of the dress. She patiently worked on one part of the dress before moving onto another area. After she finished, most of the dress was spattered with wax.

“Aunt Maly, it looks horrible.”

“Just be patient, Reine.”

Mrs. Urwani laid the dress upon her chair and went inside. When she returned, she carried a small washtub in her arms.

“What do you have in there?” asked Reine.

“A little bit of everything,” replied Mrs. Urwani, “Would you like to help?”

Reine nodded.

Mrs. Urwani unloaded the washtub. Inside, there were bottles of brown and blue ink, a pair of hot dog tongs, and some rubber gloves.

“We’ll start by squirting blue ink into the washbasin.”

Reine did as she was told. Afterward, Mrs. Urwani added water to the ink until the washbasin was half full.

“Now place the dress into the ink, but don’t place your hands in the ink.”

“Why not?”

“See my hands?” asked Mrs. Urwani.

Reine had never noticed before, but Mrs. Urwani’s fingertips were slightly blue colored.

“The ink will permanently stain your hands, just like mine.”

Reine was careful not to touch the water. Mrs. Urwani used the hot dog tongs to submerge the dress completely into the ink.

“The longer we leave the dress to soak, the darker the color.”

Everyone sat by the fire as they waited for the ink to stain the dress. After about an hour, Mrs. Urwani handed a pair of gloves to Reine. Both Reine put on her gloves, ready for the next step.

Mrs. Urwani fished the dress out of the washbasin with the tongs.

“Wow! It’s as dark as the nighttime sky!”

“It’s called Indigo,” replied Mrs. Urwani.

“Where does indigo come from?”

“Most people say it comes from India. The word ‘indigo’ comes from a Greek word which means to indicate, or mark something.”

“Like you’re marking the dress with ink?”

“Exactly.”

“But I really meant the ink…where does it come from?”

“It’s made artificially nowadays, but there was a time when Indonesians used crushed flowers to make inks and dyes. In fact, the artificial Indigo is used in every pair of blue jeans made today.”

Mrs. Urwani grabbed the tongs and fished in the ink for the dress. The dress was dark blue, just as dark as a brand new pair of jeans.

“Grab the dress and squeeze out all of the ink,” said Mrs. Urwani.

“The wax is breaking in my grip,” said Reine.

“That’s okay. It’s one of the tricks to batik,” said Mrs. Urwani.

Reine finished squeezing. Then, Mrs. Urwani twisted the dress between her hands, wrining out the last bit of excess ink. She draped the dress over the clothesline and returned inside.

“I forgot something,” she said.

After a long wait, Mrs. Urwani returned with a second washtub. This one was filled with hot water. She removed the pie plate from the fire, replacing it with the washtub.

“What are you doing now?” asked Reine.

“I’m going to remove the wax,” said Mrs. Urwani.

“How will you do that?”

“By melting it.”

Mrs. Urwani felt the dress. The ink was still not quite dry. Mrs. Urwani held it in front of the fire, switching from one side to the other. When the dress was dry, she dropped it into the water.

“Any moment now,” said Mrs. Urwani.

Reine peered into the washtub. Melted wax floated to the surface. Mrs. Urwani scooped it off until no more wax was left in the washtub. At that point, she grabbed the tongs. She fished the dress from the blue lagoon of ink and water and held it high in the air.

“Look at that design!” said Reine.

The places where Mrs. Urwani had painted the wax design, there was only the unstained white dress showing.

“It’s beautiful,” said Reine.

“It’s not finished yet,” said Mrs. Urwani.

“What now?”

“Now we wait.”

“We always have to wait,” said Reine.

“Tomorrow, I will paint new designs on the dress and use the brown ink. The colors blue, brown, and white represent the symbols of Hindu culture. There were times when different styles of batik were used to determine to whom you were talking. The more intricate the design, the more important the person.”

“So, how important is the person who will wear this dress?” asked Reine.

“Very important,” replied Mrs. Urwani.

“Who is it?”

Mrs. Urwani poked Reine on the nose and gave a laugh.

“It’s you, my sweet princess.”

Reine’s smile lit up the campfire. She looked around at the Urwani family. Susi and Reema both had beautiful pieces of batik clothing. Reema had a long dress and Susi wore one of her batik scarves, which tied back her hair.

Reine would have to wait, though. Tomorrow, she would be able to wear a dress hand-made by her Aunt Maly. As the fire waned, so did Reine’s ability to stay awake. As she admired the half-finished dress hanging on the clothesline, she drifted off to sleep.

Yudhi abandoned his stargazing for just a moment. He lifted his tiny cousin in his arms, carrying her on his shoulder, like a bag of rice. When they arrived upstairs, he tucked her in for a pleasant night’s sleep. When he returned downstairs, the rest of the girls were ready for sleep, too.

“Yudhi,” said his mother, “will you put the fire out when you’re finished?”

“Sure thing, ma.”

Mr. Urwani, however, did not go to bed quite yet. He lit a clove cigarette and gave it a puff. He joined Yudhi at the telescope. As Mr. Urwani looked through the telescope, Yudhi narrated the position of each and every star he knew. It was a long list. In fact, the list lasted longer than Mr. Urwani’s clove cigarette.

Mr. Urwani flicked the cigarette butt intot he fire. The flames consumed the cigarette.

“I guess that about does it for me, too,” said Mr. Urwani.

“I’m just about finished,” said Yudhi.

“Don’t forget to put out the campfire when you’re finished.”

“I’m going to do that right now,” said Yudhi.

He dumped the contents of the washbasins on the fire. The ink mix stained the ground around the campfire dark blue. As steam rose from the half-dead fire, Yudhi returned to his work.

The night, as dark as the darkest of inks, still allowed room for each and every star. This made Yudhi think of all the Indonesian people.

“Many yet one,” he whispered to himself.

Many yet one, indeed.

Satay Sunsets

2009-07-20T06:51:00.000-07:00

After Yudhi introduced Susi and Reine to Durian, that was just the beginning of adventures for everyone at the Urwani house on this night. Mrs. Urwani had begun cooking. Meanwhile, Susi and Reine followed Yudhi up to the attic.

“Here it is!” he exclaimed.

“You brought us up here for a volleyball net?”

“This is much more than a volleyball net,” said Yudhi.

Yudhi and the girls went out to the alley beside the Urwani house. Yudhi tied one end to the eye hook that was attached to the Urwani house. Susi stretched the net across the alley and attached the other end to an eye hook attached to the wall of Mr. Onato’s Auto Shop.

“Now we can play Sepak Takraw,” said Yudhi as he admired his work.

“Where’s the takraw?” asked Susi.

“Oh no!” groaned Yudhi, “How could I forget about that?”

“That’s the most important thing,” said Susi, “It could be anywhere.”

“That’s okay,” said Reine, “I’m very good at finding things. What does it look like?”

“It’s about seven centimeters across. Although it looks like it’s made from woven reeds, it’s actually made from white and black plastic strips. I guess you could say it looks like a woven wiffle ball.”

“That should be easy,” said Reine.

They searched all the boxes and drawers in Yudhi’s room. They looked under Yudhi’s bed, too. They searched Susi and Reine’s bedroom, the living room, both bathrooms, and then the kitchen.

“What on Earth are you looking for?” asked Mrs. Urwani.

“The takraw,” replied Susi.

“Ask your father. He might know,” replied Mrs. Urwani.

Mrs. Urwani returned to her work in the kitchen, preparing Chicken Satay. She pierced pieces of chicken with bamboo skewers and placed them aside. Then, she worked on the marinade. In a deep dish, she stirred cumin and turmeric into Indonesian soy sauce. Afterwards, she placed the skewers into the dish and placed it inside the refrigerator. This allowed the chicken to absorb the sauce until dinnertime.

The children filtered back through the living room to the front porch. As usual, Mr. Urwani was sitting in his rocking chair.

“Hello children. What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Uncle Yong, we’ve been looking for the Takraw. Have you seen it?”

“I think I know where it is,” replied Mr. Urwani.

He led the children upstairs to his room. He searched every crevice and corner within his bedroom. He was not able to find the tiny woven ball, either. He crossed his arms and looked around for an answer. He looked low and he looked high. As he glanced at the chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling, he had an idea.

“I know where it could be,” he said triumphantly.

He led the children upstairs again. This time, they went into the musty attic. Cardboard boxes were stacked along the far wall.

“Everyone pick a box,” he said.

The children opened boxes as if it were Christmas morning, searching their contents for the surprises inside.

“I found some badminton rackets and birdies,” said Yudhi.

“We might find a use for those,” said Mr. Urwani.

“I found your volleyball,” announced Susi.

“That’ll come in handy, too.”

Susi sat it next to her father and returned to the stack of boxes. Just then, Reine stretched a hand high above her head. She grasped a bright white ball tightly in her fingers.

“Is this it?” she asked.

“That’s it!” exclaimed Uncle Yong.

Reine smiled brightly.

“I told you I was good at finding things.”

They gathered all the sports equipment and returned to the alley. Mr. Urwani moved his rocking chair to the edge of the porch to watch.

“We’ll split into two teams,” said Yudhi, “Me versus the two of you.”

“What are boundaries?”

“We’ll use trash cans to mark the end lines and use the sides of the alley for the out-of-bounds.”

Yudhi stood behind the end line formed by the trash can to serve.

“Who will be Tekong?” asked Susi.

“I’ll be my own Tekong.”

Normally, one player tossed the takraw to the server to start play. Since Yudhi was playing alone, he’d have to serve to himself. He tossed the takraw into the air and punted it over the net. It bounced off Susi’s knee before it went out-of-bounds.

“1-0,” said Yudhi.

He served the ball again. It flew over the net and directly at Reine. Reine ducked out of the way and the takraw bounced on the ground.

“2-0,” said Yudhi.

“What are you doing?” Susi said to Reine.

“It was going to hit me.”

“You’re supposed to kick it.”

“But I don’t want to kick it.”

“If you don’t kick it, we won’t win.”

As Susi and Reine argued, a group of kids came down the street. Yudhi invited them to join. Meanwhile, Reine got her wish. She sat on the bumper of Yudhi’s car and kept score. Yudhi’s team scored twenty-one points, winning the first game.

They played another game. This time, Susi’s team won. The third set was the tie-breaker. Mrs. Urwani came out to the front porch and sat next to Mr. Urwani and watched the children. It was a hard fought battle, but Susi’s team won again, winning the match.

“It’s time for dinner,” announced Mrs. Urwani.

“Want to play again after dinner?” asked one of the boys.

Yudhi looked up at the setting sun.

“We’ll run out of sunlight before we can finish. If you want, you can play while we eat dinner.”

As the remaining children played Sepak Takraw, the cousins went inside to wash. After they washed, they said their evening prayer.

Everyone gathered around the dining room table. Mrs. Urwani sat the Chicken Satay in the center of the table. The pieces of chicken were bright yellow, colored by the turmeric powder in the Indonesian soy marinade. There were also rice cakes and a cucumber salad.

The bright yellow color reminded Reine of the bright yellow Soto Ayam.

“Aunt Maly, why are so many foods yellow?”

“I thought we went over this,” answered Mrs. Urwani, “It’s because we Indonesians cook with Mustard and Tumeric.”

“There’s also yellow vegetables and fruit,” added Reema.

Susi bit into her Chicken Satay. The sauce was salty like soy, but sweet, too. The turmeric and cumin added a dark, smoky flavor.

"The chicken is so moist and tender, ma," said Susi.

“It’s an old marinade recipe,” replied her mother.

Chicken Satay was just another of the Muslim influences that had come from Turkey and the Middle East. Arabic traders often moved in caravans, never settling in any one place for too long. This meant that their food had to travel, too. For this reason, they used reeds and rattan to create skewers. This made for easy cooking. After they ate their meals, they could toss the skewers into the fire and be on their way.

Susi finished her skewer and then ate her cucumber salad and rice cakes. She washed it down with soy milk and was ready to go play again.

“I’m going back outside,” she announced to the table.

“Me, too,” said Yudhi.

“Me, three,” added Reine.

“Not until you rinse off your plate,” said her mother.

The children obeyed, sharing space at the kitchen sink. Yudhi washed while Susi dried. Meanwhile, Reine stood on top of a stool, so she could put the dishes into the cabinet overhead. When they were finished, Yudhi snatched his cousin off the stool and stood her on the floor. Susi grabbed the stool and put it away. Now the children were ready to return outside.

“Okay, shoo,” said Mrs. Urwani with a general waving motion.

The children scampered outside, only to find the sun sitting at the edge of the horizon. Soon, there would be very little light to play Sepak Takraw. In fact, the boys were already having problems with the fading light.

“I have an idea,” said Yudhi.

“What’s that?” answered a boy.

“Why don’t we play badminton instead?”

“That’s a good idea.”

Yudhi handed out the rackets and picked up the badminton birdie. Although sunset lasted only moments, streetlights illuminated the badminton court in fluorescent light.

Meanwhile, Mr. Urwani smoked his clove cigarette while he watched the children from his rocking chair. He had an idea, too. It was an idea he was sure all the children would love after the sun was gone and even the fluorescent light wouldn’t be enough.

Durian Days

2009-07-20T06:49:00.000-07:00

The Hawker Carts filled the sidewalks of Yogya, selling everything under the sun. Yudhi pulled the car to the side of the road and opened the door.

“What are we doing?” asked Susi.

“I want to buy some Durian.”

“Durian? Blech!” exclaimed Reine, “I hate Durian!”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to waste another minute,” said Susi.

“This will only take a minute,” replied Yudhi.

One of the Hawker Carts stood apart from the remaining carts. Yudhi got out of the car and approached the cart. Hawker carts are just like street carts all over the rest of the world. They’re named Hawker Carts because of the people who pushed the carts. These men were called ‘Hawkers’ because they hawked (or sold) things from their carts.

This particular cart had a sign across one side. It said “Fong’s Fruits”. It belonged to Mrs. Fong. It was filled with fruits of all kinds. Yudhi did not have to search long for his Durian. The familiar odor of Durian found Yudhi as it drifted through the air..

“Ah! Here it is.”

A row of durian hung from strings that were tied to the cart’s canopy. The street vendor untied the string and handed the durian to Yudhi. Yudhi carefully took the string and held the large football-shaped fruit. It was colored green-yellow, like an unripe banana. Large, thorny knobs covered its surface.

He shook the durian as he held it near his ear.

“What are you doing?”: asked Mrs. Fong.

“Listeing for ripeness,” replied Yudhi.

“That is an old wives’ tale. You cannot tell anything from the sound of a Durian.”

“You can tell something from the squirrel holes,” stated Yudhi as he turned the hole toward Mrs. Fong.

“Yes you can. I’ll take half off the price. Is that fair?”

Yudhi nodded. He knew that was a good price, since a quirrel hole meant ripe and juicy seeds inside. The good thing was that squirrels had short arms, which means that even if Yudhi had ‘second paw’ on this durian, it was still a good deal.

He paid for the durian and thanked Mrs. Fong. However, before he could return to the car, the girls joined him.

“Why are you holding that fruit by a string?” asked Reine.

“See these spikes? That’s why.”

“Oh my gosh! It smells so awful,” said Reine.

“It smells like pig poop,” said Susi.

“I wish it smelled that good,” added Reema.

“But it tastes terrific,” said Yudhi.

“It’s not as terrific as bakpao,” replied Susi, “Can we buy some?”

“Do you have any money?”

“I have a few rupees,” said Reema.

“Then I guess you can buy it if you can find it.”

The girls walked a little way to a group of Hawker Carts. Some sold fruits and vegetables. They were looking for someone selling cooked food. One of the carts had a signboard on the side. It read, “Fong’s Fabulous Cart of Bak-“.

“This must be the place,” said Reema.

Indeed it was. Mr. Fong sold bakpao (sticky buns), bakmie (noodles), and bakso (meatballs), too. Reema ordered generous helpings of each item. Mr. Fong cooked their order and placed it in folding Chinese carry out boxes. As the girls returned to the car, they noticed the sign on the Hawker Cart full of fruit.

“Are you related to that gentleman down there?” asked Reema.

The woman nodded, “I am his wife.”

“Why aren’t you down there with him?”

“First of all, we’d have nothing to discuss when we return home.”

“And what else?”

“And Mr. Fong does not like the smell of durian.”

“Of course,” laughed Reema.

The girls returned to the car and immediately rolled their windows down. Still, they could not get away from the pungent odor of the durian. This smell was the very reason why most taxis, busses, and even airplanes would not let passengers bring durian. Reine even held head outside the window.

“Reine! Get your head inside the window!” commanded Yudhi.

“It’s stinky!”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s dangerous to put any part of your body outside the window. You never know what may happen.”

“If I pull my head inside, I might suffocate.”

“That’s a risk you’ll have to take.”

Reine pulled her head inside, but held both her nose and her breath. She put her nose next to the open window, trying to inhale fresh air. When they finally arrived at home, Mr. and Mrs. Urwani were both waiting on the porch. All the girls erupted from the car and hurried to the porch. Yudhi was close behind.

“Pa, look what I bought!” exclaimed Yudhi.

“I have not had Durian in quite some time.”

Mrs. Urwani pinched her nose and turned away from Yudhi and the smelly fruit.

“After you’re finished, I want you to throw the peel in the trash. Then, I want you to tie the trash bag and throw it in the trash can outside.”

“Is there anything else?” chuckled Yudhi.

“After that, you’d better put the lid on the trash can, too.”

Susi and Yudhi went to the kitchen. Yudhi ran a knife down the side of the durian, peeling the spiky skin away from the fruit. He then plucked a wedge of the yellow fruit from inside. He tore it into two pieces, keeping one piece for himself and giving one to Susi. It melted in her mouth with every bite.

“Let’s take some outside,” she said.

Yudhi finished peeling the durian. Afterwards, he threw most of the smelly outer peel, just as his mother had asked. There was one small piece he left on the sink. Meanwhile, Susi carried the pieces of durian out to the front porch. Mr. Urwani and Reema joined in. Mrs. Urwani and Reine refused to eat any durian.

“It’s so stinky!” said Reine as she pinched her nose again.

“Keep your nose plugged and just try one piece,” said Susi as she dangled the pale green fruit in front of her cousin. Reine reluctantly grabbed the durian with her free hand. She dangled it above her mouth and paused. Even with her nose plugged, she could smell the odorous fruit.

“It tastes like banana pudding,” said Reema.

Reine let the durian drop into her mouth. It melted like soft pudding. The taste, however, was something she did not expect.

“Well?” said Yudhi expectantly.

“Well…it tastes…like…”

“Yes?”

“It tastes like that stuff inside a candy bar.”

“Chocolate?”

“No, the creamy beige stuff.”

“Nougat?”

“That’s it.”

Everyone but Mrs. Urwani took a bite and held it in your mouth.

“I see what you’re saying,” said Yudhi.

“I still think it tastes like banana pudding,” said Reema.

“I don’t know what it tastes like, but I love it,” said Mr. Urwani as he slurped a piece into his mouth.

Without warning, Mrs. Urwani snatched a piece of durian off of the plate. She pinched her nose with two fingers and sampled a bite.

“Mmm,” said Mrs. Urwani, “definitely tastes like melted nougat.”

They enjoyed every last bite before Mrs. Urwani got up and went to the kitchen.

“Yudhi,” she called through the living room, “I thought I told you to throw durian peel away!”

“I’m saving it to wash our hands,” he replied.

“Oh, of course.”

She filled the peel with water and then used the peel as a tiny washbasin. Everyone took their turn washing and rinsing their hands before Yudhi took the very last piece of peel and threw it away. Afterwards, he tied the top of the garbage bag and took it out to the alley next to the house.

It was customary for anyone who ate durian to use the peel to wash their hands. For some reason, washing one’s hands in the peel kept his or her hands from smelling like the peel. Yudhi didn’t know why, he just knew it worked. That’s just the way it always was.

Yudhi returned to the front porch, where everyone was relaxing.

“That was the best ever!” exclaimed Reine, “Don’t you think, Aunt Maly?”

“I cannot say it was the best ever, but it was surprisingly good.”

Reema opened the bag full of goodies she purchased from Mr. Fong. Everyone shared the meatballs, sticky buns, and noodles. Afterwards, Reine heaved a sigh as she patted her belly. It thumped loudly, full of good food.

“I don’t think I could eat another bite,” said Reine.

“You’d better make space, because I am making Nasi Goreng,” said Mrs. Urwani.

“We bought some Mie Goreng from the Hawkers,” said Reema.

“I’d better get started then,” said Mrs. Urwani.

She went to the kitchen and began working her wonders. The rest of the family rested. Everyone except Yudhi, that is.

“Where are you going?” asked Susi.

“I have a plan for working off all this food,” he replied.

“What is it?” asked Reine.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

The girls followed Yudhi to the attic, where he would unveil his plan.

Metamorphosis

2009-07-20T06:48:00.000-07:00

It was only a short while at Reine's house before the vacation was over. Mrs. Urwani had spoken to Mr. Urwani and now it was safe to come home.
"Girls, do you have everything packed?" asked Mrs. Urwani.
Susi and Reema nodded.
"Then I guess we're on our way."
"What about me?" asked Reine.
"You're staying here," replied her mother.
"That's perfectly awful. We barely had a chance to visit," groaned Reine.

"If your mother will allow it, you can come along with us," said Mrs. Urwani.

"Can I, can I please?" begged Reine.

"Since it's okay with your Aunt Maly, then it's alright with me."

"Now you can be my tag-along," said Susi.

They packed themselves into the car and were just about ready to go when Susi hopped up in her seat.

"We almost forgot something!"

Susi ran inside and came out with the dried nutmeg.

"The manisan pala!" exclaimed Reine.

Susi got back into the car, the dried nutmeg resting on her lap as she rode in the back seat with Reine.

As they rode west, they played a game where they looked out the window, trying to find objects that began with a letter of the alphabet.

"Acacia," said Mrs. Urwani.

"Banana Tree!" shouted Susi.

"Coconuts," said Reema.

"Durian!" said Susi, pointing out the Indonesian fruit trees alongside the road.

"Elephant, Ficus, Gila Monster," stated Reema.

"I don't see any elephant or gila monsters," said Reine.

"They're on that restaurant sign over there," said Reema.

"You people are going too fast. How am I supposed to keep up?"

"Look harder," said Reema.

Reine heaved a big sigh then leaned back in her seat. She folded her arms and held her breath.

"You don't have to be like that about it," said Reema, "Go ahead, the next letter is H."

With her arms still folded, Reine glanced sideways out the window. However, she couldn't see anything that started with the letter H.

"I don't like this game," pouted Reine.

"Be patient. I'm sure you'll see something very soon," said Mrs. Urwani.

Just then, they passed a farm.

"Horses," said Susi, "Indonesian Boa," she added.

As they passed another billboard, it advertised the Wallacea Wildlife Habitat.

"Jaguars, Kangaroos, Lemurs, Monkeys," said Reema.

"Nectarines, Oranges, Pomegranate, Quince, Rambutan " said Susi as she pointed out the fruit on the Hawker Carts.

"This is just not fair!" exclaimed Reine.

"Girls, let Reine have a turn," scolded Mrs. Urwani.

Everyone remained silent for just a moment. Just then, they passed a pair large black marble statues alongside the road.

"Sumatran Tigers!" exlcaimed Reine. She clapped her hands excitedly.

The Sumatran Tigers guarded the entrance to the Wallacea Wildlife Habitat. It housed many of the animals throughout Indonesia and surrounding countries. It had been named for Sir Alfred Wallace, a biologist from Great Britain. Wallace had studied the plants and animals of Indonesia.

"Why do they call it the Wallacea Habitat, when we're in Bali?" asked Susi.

"It's named after Sir Wallace, who investigated the biodiversity of Indonesia."

"What's biodiversity?" asked Reine.

"It's the great variety of things around us," replied Mrs. Urwani, "Indonesia has more species of plants and animals than any place in the world."
"He also created the Wallace Line," added Reema, "It's a line between Bali and Wallacea that divides plants and animals based on their backgrounds."

"I've never seen this line," said Reine.

"It's an imaginary line. It's a boundary between two different types of animals. The ones on the Bali side are rarely found on the Wallace side and vice-versa."

"It's like a fence?" asked Reine.

"More like a property line," said Mrs. Urwani, "See the sign overhead now?"

The sign said 'Welcome to Yogya!"

"Some of the animals cross from one side of the Wallace Line to the other. Usually, though, they come back to where they started, to be with their relatives."

"Just like us," nodded Reine.

A fine layer of volcanic ash still covered parts of Yogyakarta's streets. For the most part, however, the city looked new again. They pulled into the driveway. Yudhi was working at Mr. Onato's while Mr. Urwani was on the porch, smoking one of his clove cigarettes.

"Uncle Yong!" exclaimed Reine as she ran to the porch.

"What a pleasant surprise!" said Mr. Urwani as he gave his niece a bear hug. Reine loved the smell of clove smoke imbedded in his cotton shirt.

Mr. Urwani helped the women unload the car. Meanwhile, Susi took the dried nutmeg slices to the kitchen. She briefly rinsed the nutmeg and then covered each piece in sugar. She carefully organized the slices on the baking rack and set it aside. She turned on the oven. It would not be long now.

After the oven pre-heated, Susi baked the nutmeg. After a few minutes, she pulled the tray out of the oven. What had been a tray of nutmeg was now a tray of Manisan Pala.

"Finally!" exclaimed Reine. As she reached for the candies, Susi pushed a hip into her way.

"What?"

"It's scolding hot. We have to wait a few minutes."

So they pulled a couple of stools beside the oven and waited. Reine fanned the tray with a dish towel, speeding the cooling process. When they were done, Reine got the first bite.

"Mmmm, so good, " exclaimed Reine.

Susi nodded in agreement as she prepared a small plate. She took it across the alley and presented it to Mr. Onato. He smiled as he plucked a piece of candy from the plate and popped it into his mouth. Then, Susi took the tray to Yudhi, who was working on a motorcycle in the back of the shop.

"Good timing, sis. After this, I'm finished for the day."

"Already? It isn't even noon."

"There's nothing left to fix."

"Oh," nodded Susi.

Yudhi replaced the clutch on the motorcycle and returned home with Susi. After he showered, he came downstairs, to find Reine and Susi playing video games in the family room.

"It's such a great day. Why don't we go to Kanisius Park and play?" asked Yudhi.

"Okay," said Susi.

"May I go, too?" asked Reine.

"Now I've got two tag-alongs," said Yudhi with a grin.

They loaded into the car and away they went. When they arrived at Kanisius Park, many of the trees had been scorched by wildfires. Still, there were patches of green where birds and butterflies gathered.

"It's terrible," said Reine.

"What's terrible? The burn spots?"

Reine nodded.

"It's what makes Indonesia beautiful," replied Yudhi.

"Black and gray are not beautiful."

"Yes, but the volcanic ash is plant food. The plants will grow back, more beautiful than ever."

For a moment, the sun broke through the clouds, as if signaling the natural path of things.

"Doesn't the Hindu god talk about destruction and re-birth?" asked Yudhi.

Reine nodded.

"Then think of it that way. All things must change, but it is a good thing. I think it's just one of the gifts of Allah. Without struggle, there is nothing to rejoice," said Yudhi.

"Blessed be Allah," he said.

With that, they left the birds and butterflies behind. They were splashes of color in an otherwise dull painting, thought Reine. Luckily, the gray would change to green, too. That made Reine very happy.

“Mom said she was cooking a big meal for lunch and I’m hungry. Are you two ready to go home?”

Susi nodded.

“I’m starved,” said Reine as she rubbed her tummy and licked her lips.

“Then let’s not waste another minute,” said Yudhi. They returned to the car, ready to see what was waiting at home.

Rama's Journey

2009-07-16T03:48:00.001-07:00

On their third day at Reine's house, Susi and Reine got to fetch the saucepan full of nutmeg from the back porch. Aunt Dona sat a strainer into the sink and poured the contents of the saucepan into the strainer. The yellow-brown liquid drained away, leaving the golden brown ginger root sitting in the bottom of the strainer.

Aunt Dona returned the ginger to the saucepan. Then, she filled the saucepan with water and placed it on the stove. She turned on the heat and let it simmer.

“We wait again?” sighed Reine.

Her mother nodded.

Foam rose to the water’s surface as the ginger boiled, In no time at all, however, the foaming stopped, which meant this step was complete. Aunt Maly and Aunt Dona sliced the ginger root and placed them in a covered pan. Then, Mrs. Urwani sat them on the windowsill.

“We’ll set these here until the sun dries them,” said Mrs. Urwani.

“How long will that take?” asked Reine.

“Two more days.”

Reine sighed.

“We have many things planned until then,” announced Aunt Dona.

“Like?” asked Reine.

“We’re going to the temples at Prambanan and watch the Ramayana Ballet.”

Reine’s face lit up with a smile, “I love Prambanan.”

“What’s so special about Prambanan? It’s just a bunch of ruins,” said Reema nonchalantly.

“Show some respect,” scolded Mrs. Urwani.

“Prambanan aren’t just ruins, but an important piece of Indonesian history,” added Aunt Dona.

Susi was curious to see what all the fuss was about. She’d heard of the temples before. She’d also seen pictures in history books. She figured there must be a sight worth seeing.

As the car entered the Prambanan valley, workers moved stones through the ruins. Reema was not impressed, but she did not say a thing. Susi, however, leaned her head out the window. She was as curious as a monkey.

“Are they rebuilding the temple?”

“Archeologists have been re-constructing it ever since it was built. In a land of volcanoes and typhoons, you have to have to be patient and persistent.”

“There’s so much rubble,” said Susi.

“Ruins,” thought Reema.

Indeed, there was a lot of rubble. Of the original 237 temples, only a few stood upright. Those that remained were rebuilt throughout the 20^th Century. As the Urwani car neared the center of Prambanan, more and more temples stood in their original form. Tall, conical steeples, made of gray concrete blocks, were adorned with statues, cornices, and other ornaments.

“It looks like Borobudur,” said Reema.

“That’s just because of the statues. Borobudur is a Buddhist temple, with statues of Buddha. Prambanan has a great variety of statues.”

“They look the same to me,” said Reema.

A thin rain poured as they got out of the car. Reema began to see the differences between Borobudur and Prambanan. She cut through the piles of gigantic blocks surrounding the main temples. Wet grass led to the edges of the shrine. She stepped onto the large concrete pad that surrounded the temple. Gargoyles and beasts surrounded the lower levels of the temple, while the warrior-guardians adorned the steeple.

“Which temple is this?” asked Susi.

“It could be any one of the trimurti,” said Mrs. Urwani.

The three gods of the Hindu religion were Brahma (the Creator), Vishnu (the Keeper), and Shiva (the Destroyer).

“I think it’s the Vishnu Temple,” corrected Aunt Dona.

“How can you tell?” asked Susi.

“For one, it’s the largest of the temples. Also, I see Nandi standing guard over there.”

She pointed out one of the three smaller temples dedicated to each of the larger temples. Nandi was the bull that Shiva rode. Brahma rode a giant sacred swan named Hamsa.

Susi immediately walked toward the third of the smaller temples. The statue in front of the temple had the body of a man with wings and face of an eagle.

“Is this Garuda?” asked Susi.

“It sure is,” replied Aunt Dona, “You can tell by the Eagle’s face and wings.”

Susi investigated the golden-muscled statue with his powerful arms and legs. His head was turned toward the skies. His wings flared out behind him, ready for flight.

“Yudhi would love this,” said Susi.

Mrs. Urwani nodded. “I wonder how your brother and father are doing.”

She dialed her cell phone and called home. Susi listened in to Mrs. Urwani’s half of the call.

“Hello, why aren’t you working at Mr. Onato’s Shop today?”

“Oh, is everything okay over there?”

“That’s good news! Then we’ll come home first thing tomorrow morning.”

Susi motioned to her mother. She wanted to talk to Yudhi, too.

“Here’s your sister,” said Mrs. Urwani.

“Hello big brother. We’re at Prambanan and we were just thinking of you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Tag-along,” said Yudhi.

“I guess we’ll be seeing each other soon,” said Susi.

“I don’t work tomorrow either,” said Yudhi, “so maybe we could do something together. How does that sound?”

“It sounds terrific,” said Susi.

“Then it’s a date. Love you, little sis.”

“Love you too, big brother.”

Susi returned the phone to her mother and then returned her attention to the temple. Sounds of a gamelan were coming from the other side of the temple.

“What’s that?” asked Susi.

“It’s Ramayana!” replied Reine.

Everyone headed for the opposite side of the Shrine, where a multitude of people were gathered. On a small stage, there were dancers, clad in bright red, yellow, and black costumes. Off to the side sat a gamelan, full of instruments just like the ones Susi and Reema played. They clanged noisily as the dancers moved to the side of the stage.

Just like the Shadow Puppet plays, the Ramayana was a part of the rich heritage of the Java Island. The Ramayana ballet told the epic story of Rama. In fact, the word ‘Ramayana’ meant ‘Rama’s Journey’.

Susi and her family sat at one side of the stage, watching the ballet unfold. Dancers sprang around the stage. There was Prince Rama, Princess Sita, Garuda, and the Demons, too. Garuda was dressed just like the statue, although the dancer used his arms to wave his silken red wings. The demons were dressed in black with grotesque face masks. Their wings were made of black rayon.

Just like the puppet show, dancers clashed as they portrayed great battles. Also just like the puppet show, the gamelan accompanied the dancers.

Rama was the first born of King Dasharatha’s three sons. While he was a child, he learned the ways of the kingdom. When he turned 16, Rama hunted a demon that was attacking his father’s kingdom.

In another kingdom, a King found a special girl, who had been abandoned in a field. He named her Sita. As Sita grew, she became more and more beautiful. The king decided to have a contest to decide who would be fit to marry his lovely daughter.

The King gave each contestant a chance to use the longbow of Shiva. Rama is the only warrior strong enough to wield the bow. In fact, Rama is so strong he breaks Shiva’s longbow.

After Rama and Sita are married, Rama’s father, King Dasharatha decides to crown Rama as king. Rama’s step-mother is upset, because she wants her son Bharata (one of King Dasharatha’s other son) to become king. She has Rama and Sita banned to the wilderness.

Rama’s step-brother Bharata learns of his mothers plans and decides to betray his mother. He visits Rama in the wilderness and asks him to return and rule the kingdom. Rama refuses, because the exile was his father’s last command.

Meanwhile, Rama’s step-mother hatches an evil plot to kidnap Sita. After many twists and turns, Sita is captured.

Meanwhile, Rama meets the monkey-king Hamuran. Hamuran journey’s to the step-mother’s castle and plays a trick on the step-mother, promising to marry her. Eventually, his secret plan is discovered and Hamuran is captured by Ravana, the step-mother.

She sets his tail on fire as punishment. Hamuran gets angry and escapes. As he jumps from rooftop to rooftop, his tail catches the roofs on fire.

In the final scene, Ravana’s demons battle with the princes and the monkey-warriors. Both complete sets of dancers came out onto the stage and performed an elaborate dance. At the end of the battle, the evil step-mother Ravana was banished by her own sons. Rama and Sita were reunited and they were crowned king and queen.

Mrs. Urwani looked over at her eldest daughter. Reema clapped cheerfully until she caught her mother spying on her. Then she put her hands on her lap and stopped smiling.

“Too late,” said Mrs. Urwani, “I told you it was more than just ruins.”

“I guess I was glad I came,” replied Reema.

“I’m glad you came, too.”

The better news was that everyone could go back to Yogyakarta tomorrow. Susi could hardly wait. Neither could anyone else.

A Rabbit in the Rice

2009-07-16T03:48:00.000-07:00

The tiny town of Purwodadi sat one hundred kilometers east of Yogyakarta. Purwodadi also sat between two mountains. Those two mountains were called Pegunungan Kendeng and Pegunungan Kapur Utara. The mountains were responsible for most of the living in the village. Susi always liked the way the mountains seemed to protect the village.

"How is Queenie doing?" Reine asked her mother.

"She should be doing just fine. I fed her cabbage and carrots, just like you told me."

As soon as Reine put her luggage away, she hurried to the backyard. Susi followed closely behind.

"Queenie!" exclaimed Reine as she approached the rabbit hutch. The tiny wooden cage sat on four stilts. Reine stepped on the milk crate beside the hutch and opened the door. She reached inside and grabbed Queenie with both hands.

She sat Queenie in the lush green grass and kneeled beside the rabbit. The rabbit twitched, then hopped into a clump of weeds.

Meanwhile, Susi stretched out her arms to feel the soft mist landing on her hands and face. Susi noticed one of the mountains in the distance. Tall, sprawling rice terraces covered the mountainsides, like giant steps.

"I think rice terraces are pretty amazing things," said Susi.

"Why do you say that?"

"It takes a lot of work to create flat spots along the mountainside. Farmers have to bring soil on trucks to help grow the rice. Plus, they have to sculpt the steps to make sure they're level. Thirdly, they have to maintain the steps, so they aren't eroded by the rains."

"I never thought about it that way," replied Reine, "I guess it is a lot of work."

"So much work."

Susi nodded. "It sure is."

Reine stood up and outstretched her arms just like Susi. Dragonflies and crickets buzzed in the bamboo grove beside Susi's house. Wind blew through the bamboo trees, rustling the leaves. It was one of Reine's favorite sounds.

"It sounds like a waterfall," said Reine.

"It's so relaxing out here."

Susi sang softly.

Gelang Sipaku Gelang. Gelang si rama rama.

Reine joined in.

Mari pulong marilah pulang marilah pulong bersamah sama

Mari bulong marilah pulang marilah pulong bersamah sama

Mrs. Urwani came to the back porch with the stockpot full of ginger root. She sat it on the steps and sang along with Susi and Reine. .

The song meant: I take pieces of bamboo. I cut them the same size. I sharpen and weight with string. I make kites. I play, I run, I play kites.

Gelang Sipaku Gelang was a song every Indonesian knew by heart. Often, teachers sang it at the end of the day. It was a song that even adults sang from time to time

"Why are you setting that stockpot there?" asked Reine.

"We have to let the ginger root sit in water for three days, or else it will taste bitter."

"That's so long," whined Reine.

"All sweet things come in time."

"You keep asking me to wait."

"That is because most of life is about patience."

"But I don't want to wait," whined Reine.

"None of us do, dear."

In fact, Reine and Susi did wait, because there was nothing they could do about the ginger root being bitter. They chased Queenie around the backyard, until the rabbit got tired of being chased and escaped into the rice field next to the backyard.

"Queenie! Where did you go?" called Reine.

"Here she is!" said Susi.

Queenie sat beneath a clump of Acacia, gnawing on a bamboo stalk. Reine hurried over to Susi's side and peered through the bush at the rabbit. As Reine reached her hands into the bramble, Susi grabbed Reine by the shoulders.

"You just can't reach in like that. You'll get stung by the thorns."

"I'll be fine."

Reine crawled through the Acacia and grabbed Queenie.

"See?" she said.

Just then, Queenie kicked her back paws, trying to escape again. She kicked so hard that Reine let her loose. The rabbit fell through the Acacia bush. Thorns stuck in the white and brown rabbit's fur. Queenie's eye grew wide in fear. The nettles stung the little rabbit.

Reine let out a blood-curdling scream.

Mrs. Urwani and Aunt Dona rushed out to the end of the backyard.

"What's wrong?" exclaimed Mrs. Urwani.

"Queenie's stuck!"

"Just hold her still."

Carefully, Mrs. Urwani peeled each thorn out of the poor rabbit's fur. Queenie's heart thumped rapidly.

"Hurry! She's squirming."

"I am going as fast as I can, dear."

Eventually, every thorn came out and Reine pulled the rabbit free. Susi held her hands over Queenie's hind legs, just in case. Everyone quickly went into the house. When Reine placed Queenie on the living room carpet, the rabbit laid still. Mrs. Urwani wrapped Queenie in a warm washcloth. Queenie's breathing relaxed in the safety of the house.

"Wait-a-while will get you every time," said Mrs. Urwani.

"What do you mean?"

"That's what farmers call those Acacia bushes. Sheep often get tangled in their thorns. So, the sheep have to 'wait awhile' until the farmer comes and clips away all the wool."

"Why don't we just cut those bushes down?"

"I do, but they keep growing back," said Reine's mother.

Reine laid on her belly, petting Queenie with her outstretched hands. The rabbit breathed deeply, still a little excited from the episode in the Acacia bush. Reine and Susi investigated the rabbit, picking through its fur.

"It's so interesting the way Queenie's fur cuts a line through the middle of her body."

"It's because she’s a Dutch rabbit. Dutchies are the only rabbits that have the back half of their body one color and the front half white."

"Don't forget the mask," added her mother.

"And Dutch rabbits also have matching spots over their eyes and ears, like a mask."

The unique Dutch Rabbit was one of the most common species in Indonesia. Dutch traders brought these rabbits from the Netherlands in the early 1900s. The Dutch traders had brought many things from Europe.

Reine inhaled deeply.

"Why does our house smell Dutch?" asked Reine.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't smell it?"

"I smell it," said Mrs. Urwani, "It's not a Dutch smell, it's just the smell of old buildings. Most old buildings were constructed by the Dutch."

"Why didn't the Indonesians build the houses?"

"They did, but the owners of the coffee and sugar plantations needed a place to live. They didn't only bring things like the Dutch rabbits, but they also brought their way of doing things. That's why so many things appear Dutch. I guess that's why they smell Dutch, too."

"It's a good smell," said Reine.

"I think so, too," said her mother.

"Me three," added Susi.

"Me four," said Mrs. Urwani.

Aunt Dona inhaled deeply, breathing in the Dutch smell.

"It reminds me of my childhood. We used to live a house just like this one. It had old wooden floorboards that squeaked wherever you walked. I always worried the house was going to fall down whenever monsoons rattled the window panes.”

“I remember that. I loved when storms shook the house. It felt like us against the storm,” said Mrs. Urwani.

Later that night, soft winds blew through the attic as Susi lay in her bed. Although it was not as loud as any tropical storm, Susi could imagine the sound of howling winds. Just like her Aunt Dona, Susi figured that a quiet house was a safe house. As the winds subsided, Susi closed her eyes and had a quiet and comfortable sleep.

Mercy of the Mountains

2009-07-14T05:22:00.000-07:00

Susi and Reine spent the next few days staring through the front room window at the world outside. People, covered in ash, shuffled back and forth along the streets. Cars and buildings took on the same dirty gray color. Clouds of volcanic smoke hung in the air, unmoved in the still, black sky.
"It's absolutely awful," sighed Reine.
"I agree dear," said Mrs. Urwani, "but there is nothing we can do. We are at the mercy of the mountains."
The girls watched and waited while Mrs. Urwani cooked. She boiled pieces of chicken in a pot of shallow water. Then, she added sliced potatoes, celery, and green onions to the broth. Just before she was finished, she added eggs and vermicelli. The vermicelli was just like bits of rice made from spaghetti-thin noodles.
"What are you making?" asked Susi.
"Soto Ayam," replied her mother.
"Where's the yellow?"
"It'll come in good time," replied Mrs. Urwani."
She handed kitchen knives to the girls. Everyone chopped shallots, ginger root, and garlic cloves into bite-sized pieces. Mrs. Urwani mixed the ingredients in a blender with vegetable oil until it formed a thick paste. Afterwards, she added a powdery yellow spice to the paste. That powder was called turmeric.

"Here's the yellow," said Mrs. Urwani.

Mrs. Urwani transferred the paste into a frying pan. She added salt and pepper and sat down beside the girls.

"It smells so good," said Reine, "I can hardly wait."

"Well, you'll have to wait," replied Mrs. Urwani, "but we can start making Manisan Pala."

"Mmmmm," said Reine.
Mrs. Urwani filled a large stockpot with water and salt. Meanwhile, Susi sorted through a food bin, selecting any nutmeg that were not yet soft or bruised. She handed the good nutmeg to Reine who handed them to her Aunt Maly. Mrs. Urwani quartered the nutmeg and removed the seeds. Then, she soaked the nutmeg in the salt water and put down her knife.
"What now?"
"Again, we wait..." said Mrs. Urwani.
Reine sighed.
Mrs. Urwani and the girls took their places on the stools and waited. Mr. Urwani arrived home from the rubber plantation before either the Soto Ayam or the Manisan Pala were finished. He, too, was covered in black soot.
"Papa, are you okay?"
"I'm just a little dirty, that's all."
While Mr. Urwani changed, Susi ran over to Mr. Onato's to check on Yudhi. As she opened the door to the shop, Mr. Onato looked up from his desk. Susi waved at Mr. Onato and walked into the garage. Yudhi was laying across the back seat of a car, fixing a door handle.
"Mom wants to know how long until you're finished."
"I just have to finish this job."
Susi stood beside him, patiently waiting. He affixed the door handle and snapped the upholstered door liner back into place.
"Mr. Onato, I'm going home now."
"Okay, Yudhi. If the ash from Sindoro doesn't get too thick, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Yudhi nodded and away he and Susi went. Their footsteps kicked up a giant ash cloud as they cross the alley between the repair shop and home. There was nobody else outside but them. They entered the house and immediately kicked off their dirty shoes.
"I think it's getting worse by the hour," stated Yudhi.
"Me, too," replied father, "Maly, why don't you call your sister and see if you can take the girls there until the ash clears?"
Mrs. Urwani called Aunt Dona. Aunt Dona reported that the skies were clear in East Java. Light rains washed most of the ashy clouds away.
"I think we should head east."
"To my house?" asked Reine.
Mrs. Urwani nodded, "We'll leave right after dinner."

Mrs. Urwani tended the stove again. She boiled rice and dropped a bunch of whole eggs into the Soto Ayam. As she finished cooking, Susi and Reine placed silverware and china on the table.

Mrs. Urwani served dinner. She scooped rice into everyone's soup bowls. She then ladled bright yellow chicken soup broth and golden pieces of chicken into everyone's bowl. She gave everyone fried shrimp cakes, which everyone crumbled into their soup. Finally, she served the boiled eggs. Their shells were bright yellow, just like everything else.

Reine cracked open her egg. The egg white was bright yellow, too. As she bit into it, she tasted the rich, chicken flavor of the soup. It was her favorite part of Soto Ayam. Yudhi slurped the golden broth straight from the bowl. Susi carefully ate a piece of chicken, a spoonful of broth, a nibble of shrimp cake, and then bit into her boiled egg. As Susi looked over to her father, he was finishing his first bowl. He didn't have a ritual for eating his Soto Ayam. He just ate whatever was in his spoon.

After everyone ate to their heart's content, the girls packed for their trip. Meanwhile, Mrs. Urwani lectured Mr. Urwani and Yudhi.

"There are leftovers in the freezer to get you through the week. Anything else you need, just call."
"We'll be fine, Ma."

"I'm just making sure," she replied.

"If we need anything, we'll call," said Mr. Urwani as he kissed Mrs. Urwani goodbye.

Mrs. Urwani packed her bags, too. The normally busy streets of Yogyakarta were quiet. Everything was gray-black. Wherever a car would drive, a dust cloud would form.

Smoke clogged the air. The few people walking through the streets wore surgical masks to protect themselves. Susi fetched a pair of handkerchiefs from her backpack and made a facemask for both herself and Reine. Still, the smoke burned their lungs.

"How long do you think it'll take to get to my house?"

"We'll know when we get there," replied Mrs. Urwani. Her full attention was on the street in front of her. Driving was very difficult.

On the roads further east, rain showers sprinkled. Instead of dust clouds, Mrs. Urwani had to contend with the slurry of volcanic ash and rain water.

The muddy ash made driving just as difficult. Mrs. Urwani knew that the mudslides would be something Mr. Urwani would have to combat back home.

Reine watched people walking along the side of the road, "I hope these people find a safe place."

"Most of them will."

"Some of them are just sitting in front of their house," said Reine.

"Some of them are trusting the moutain," said Mrs. Urwani.

"What do you mean, Aunt Maly?"

"They believe the guardian spirits of the mountain will protect them."

"Why would they think that?" said Reine.

"For centuries, Indoneisans have prayed to the mountains. They've even created offerings for the mountain spirit."

"Offerings?"

"They've loaded small boats with fruits and rice and floated them on the rivers. These sacrifices are meant to make the spirits happy."

"There aren't any spirits in the mountains...are there?"

"It's hard telling," replied Mrs. Urwani, "Scientists say they are just rocks, but there's a part of every human that believes in the supernatural. I think there's some spirit in everything around us."

Reine eased back into her seat and watched the road rolling by as she thought about the Mountain Spirit. If nothing else, the volcanoes meant many things to Indonesians. Every one of the thousands of islands was formed by volcanoes and earthquakes. Mounds of earth pushed up from the ocean floor and poked their heads out so people could live.

They passed the farming villages as they entered Reine's hometown of Purwodadi. Yogyakarta seemed like a different world. Unlike Yogyakarta, the rain-covered streets of Purwodadi were clean. The fields were green and bright. People went about their normal daily business. Motorcycles and busses crowded the streets. Hawker carts filled the sidewalks, carrying bunches of colorful fruits.

"Home sweet home," sighed Reine.

"It sure is," replied Mrs. Urwani. She stopped the car in front of Reine's house. Aunt Dona was waiting on the front porch. Reine ran up the steps and gave her mother a giant hug.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!" she exclaimed.

Everyone unloaded their gear for the short vacation at Aunt Dona and Reine's house.

Shadows and Light

2009-07-12T01:07:00.001-07:00

Sunny and bright, sunlight cast four rectangles, tall and thin, on the wall beside Susi's bed. She raised an arm and craned her hand. Her fingers wrinkled as her hand created a swan, graceful and slender. She moved her hand back and forth, forming a neck, beak, and head.

"What are you doing?" asked Reine.

"Playing shadow puppets," replied Susi.

Reine slid into bed beside her cousin and reached into the air with both arms. A golden eagle formed in her two hands, flying back and forth along the wall beside the swan. They continued playing until Reema interrupted them.

"Breakfast is ready."

The girls rushed downstairs, still in their pajamas. Reine's mother sat next to Mrs. Urwani at the dining room table, sipping tea.

"Good morning, Aunt Dona. I didn't expect to see you," said Susi.

"I'm taking you to Wayang Klitik," she replied.

"I thought Yudhi was taking us."

"He has to work today."

"I guess that explains it," said Susi.

Mrs. Urwani had cooked sweet rice and baked fish. The girls quickly cleaned their plates and rushed back upstairs to change. They returned to the dining room, wearing long dresses. Reema and Susi also wore headscarves, called an al-amira.

Reema was wearing her traditional Muslim dress, too.

"You girls look so beautiful,” said Mrs. Urwani, “Do you have everything?"

"Almost," said Reema as she gathered the musical instruments from the closet. She grabbed Susi's angklung, a hand-held bamboo instrument. She picked up two cymbals, called ceng-ceng for the sound they made, and gave them to Reine.

"Hold these, please."

Reema pulled out the jegong, a long wooden marimba played with leather mallets.

The girls loaded into Aunt Dona's car, instruments and all. As Aunt Dona drove down the alley, Susi leaned out the window and called to Yudhi. He looked up from his work and waved back.

When they arrived at the performing arts center, people waited outside. We have to go backstage," announced Reema.

"Am I going to play, too?" asked Reine.

"No," said Reema, "you don't know the songs."

Reema and Susi went backstage while Reine and Aunt Dona waited outside.

Other performers waited backstage, too. The percussion orchestra (known as a gamelan) was entirely composed of school girls, clad in full-length dresses.

Older men waited backstage with their shadow puppets. Instead of hands, they would be using carved wooden characters with sticks to work the arms, legs, and torso.

Crowds filtered into the auditorium and took their seats. The audience clapped as a lady commentator walked out to center stage.
"Good morning, everyone. I'd like to welcome you to our presentation of 'Vana Parva' - the book of the forest."

"I know this," Reine whispered to her mother.

The Vana Parva was a famous epic story among Hindus.

"Before we begin our play," said the announcer, "Let's give a round of applause for the ladies of our gamelan."

Girls marched out in a single file, some with instruments, some without. The first row featured the percussionists. Susi knelt on the floor with a small group of angklung players. Reema and another girl placed their jegong on the floor and sat beside them. Four more girls knelt behind the reyong.
The reyong was one of Indonesia's own musical instruments. It was a row of small copper bowls of different sizes, all covered with lids. The reyong players used fat dowels made of ivory to strike the copper pots.

"And now our puppeteers," said the announcer.

The puppeteers paraded along the front of the stage, holding their puppets overhead. They circled behind a white cotton screen sitting in the middle of the stage.

The auditorium went dark and three oil lamps were lit behind the screen. The shadows of the puppeteers were cast upon the screen. As the puppeteers took their seats, their shadows sank to the bottom edge of the screen.

As the oil lamps flickered, they threw irregular shapes on the cotton screen. The gamelan began playing and the puppeteers set the scenery. First, mountains erupted from the bottom of the screen. Then, trees danced into place, shimmering upon the cotton screen.

A man on a horse-drawn chariot rode into the scene. This was rather complicated, as three puppeteers worked in unison, galloping the horse, turning the chariot wheels, and moving the charioteer's whip.
"There was a prince who lived in the hills of India," said the announcer, "One day as he took his carriage into the deep, dark forest, he came upon a river."

Puppeteers ruffled a cotton sheet behind the scenes, creating a raging river.

"Appearing at the river's edge was a lovely woman. The prince rode his chariot to the edge of the river and asked the woman if she would become his wife.

She said: 'I will become your wife if you promise me one thing.'"

"Anything you wish," said the Prince.

"Allow me free will and do not question my actions."

"I will if you go with me to my palace."

The puppeteers trotted the chariot over the hill. Then, the trees danced away, followed by the mountains disappearing at the bottom edge of the screen.

The puppeteers rebuilt the scenery. A palace stood at one side of the screen and a grove of trees stood at the other. The prince and princess stood side-by-side. The princess was pregnant.

Soon, she had a son. She rode with the child to the river. When she returned, there was no son.

"Where is our child?" asked the Prince.

"Dear husband, I asked you not to question my motives," said the princess, "I took your son to the river because I knew he was actually a beast, cursed by great spirits to walk the earth. I knew, surely, he would grow strong and angry, and attempt to destroy you. That is why I drowned him in the mighty river."

"Princess, I had no idea you were trying to protect me."

"It is too late now," she said, "Since you did not believe me, I must leave you."

"The prince thought and thought," said the announcer, "and finally took the chariot to the river, attempting to find the princess. Instead, a mighty beast jumped out of the river."

The audience jumped as the large demon erupted from the waves. Clanging gongs, rattling bamboo, and pounding metallophones sounded furiously as the puppeteers fought the prince against the beast. Their arms clicked as the two puppets fought.

After a long battle, the prince slayed the beast.

The announcer came out and spoke, "The princess returned to the palace and lived with the prince happily ever after."

The audience cheered as the players came out and took their bows. Even Susi and Reema took their turn. Reine and Aunt Dona clapped loudest for the two cousins.

After the show, the girls met up with Aunt Dona and Reine.

"Girls, I have bad news. I have to return to Jakarta, so I cannot take you home."
"Then how will we get home?" asked Reine.

"We're taking a becak," said Reema.

"How can we make all these instruments fit into the back of a becack?”

“Look around. Some becaks have extra space in the back," said Reema.

The popular motorized tricycles called becaks did come in all shapes and sizes. Most had a large rectangular compartment on the back. Riders got in the back while the becak driver rode in a separate seat up front.

"It looks like Reema has all the answers,” said Aunt Dona.

“We’ll be fine,” replied Reema.

“Okay, good-bye, girls...and good luck," said Aunt Dona.

Aunt Dona hugged the girls and gave Reema several Rupiah notes to pay the becak driver. Vehicles of all types buzzed along the street in front of the auditorium, including the three-wheeled taxis called becaks. Reema hailed a passing becak and proceeded to get inside.

"You pay for instruments," said the becak driver.

"We will not," said Reema.

"Then no ride."

"That's fine. There are becak drivers all around us."

The driver looked over his shoulder and then motioned to the girls.

"Nothing extra for the instruments?"

"Instruments free."

The girls squished into the back of the becak, holding the Jegong across their laps. As they rode through downtown Yogyakarta, the sky changed from light to dark. A cloud of ash loomed overhead. As they entered the Kraton, pumice covered the streets.

"Not again," said Reine.

The girls held their headscarves over their faces. When the becak stopped at the end of the alley, the girls unloaded their gear and ran toward the house.

"Hurry up girls," said Mr. Urwani as he waited on the front porch.
They rushed inside.

Mrs. Urwani was on the phone as the girls came into the house.

"I was so worried about you," said Mrs. Urwani,

"We're okay now," said Reema.

"Reine, it's your mother. Do you want to talk to her?"

Reine nodded.

"Yes, mommy, I'm fine."

Reine listened as her mother gave her a list of instructions.

"Okay, I will," replied Reine.

"I love you, too. Good bye mommy."

Reine hung up the phone and stood in front of Mrs. Urwani.

"What's wrong, Reine?"

"My mother said I had to do whatever you wanted me to do."

Mrs. Urwani chuckled, "Just relax, Reine. It will be safe here inside."

As Mount Sindoro continued to cough smoke into the sky, everyone in Yogyakarta could do nothing but wait.

And so the occupants of the Urwani house sat in the living room, watching a fine gray silt fall to the ground.

“When will the volcano erupt?” asked Reine.

“Nobody knows.”

Mrs. Urwani peered out the window.

“It makes me nervous,” said Reine.

“Me, too,” said Susi.

“You’d better get to bed. Mr. Urwani and I will worry about the volcano.”

The girls scurried upstairs and changed into their pajamas. Still, they sat beside their bedroom window and looked outside.

And they waited.

And they watched.

And finally, they decided to go to sleep.

Spice is the Variety of Life

2009-07-12T01:06:00.001-07:00

Yudhi turned down the alley leading to the Urwani house. All of the parking spaces were filled, so he parked in the small lot behind Mr. Onato's Auto Shop. Luckily, Yudhi worked for Mr. Onato, so he often parked behind the Auto Shop.

As they walked through the alley between the Auto Shop and the Urwani house, Reine inhaled deeply. "What do I smell?" asked Reine.

"Papa must be smoking one of his clove cigarettes," said Susi.

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner, Reine spotted Mr. Urwani sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. He pinched a clove cigarette between his teeth as he glanced at the children.

"Good evening, Uncle Yong!"

"Good evening, Reine. Where have you been?"

"Yudhi took us to the park."

"They're showing Mount Sindoro all over the news. There was a minor eruption."

"We saw a smoke flume coming from the mountain. The dragon must be angry," said Reine.

"We should stay inside until it's safe," said Mr. Urwani.

As they entered the house, the smoky odor of the clove cigarette mixed with spicy aroma of chili powder, black pepper, and curry. Mrs. Urwani was cooking in the kitchen.

"I fixed curried lamb for dinner. I hope that's alright with our guest of honor."

"I don't think I've ever tasted it."

Mrs. Urwani held a wooden spoonful to Reine's lips. Reine bit into the piece of lamb. Reine quickly spit it into her open hand and waved her other hand in front of her mouth.

"Hot?"

Reine nodded, "and spicy, too."

Mrs. Urwani poured a glass of cold milk and gave it to Reine. It soothed

Reine's mouth as she chugged it down.

"I'll see if I can fix it so it's not so hot. Meanwhile, everyone wash up and get ready for prayers.”

Yudhi led the way through the narrow stairwell as they raced up to the second floor bathroom. As soon as he rinsed his face, he headed up to his bedroom loft in the attic.

His room was narrow and angular. The rafters pointed upward, like an old Dutch church steeple. Throughout downtown Yogyakarta, all the buildings looked the same. Yudhi liked it that way. Although his loft was narrow, it was both long and tall. It gave Yudhi plenty of room to himself. He changed into a loose-fitting shirt and comfortable jeans and headed downstairs.

Meanwhile, Reine followed Susi to their room, which sat below Yudhi's bed and above the kitchen. Reine sniffled, still reacting to the spicy chili powder.

"Here, blow your nose," said Susi as she handed Reine a tissue. Reine blew her nose and returned to the bathroom. As soon as Susi finished changing, she headed downstairs. On the way, she spotted Reine, bent over the bathroom sink, her hands cupped under the faucet.

"Are you okay?"

"My mouth is like a volcano!"

Susi took Reine to the kitchen, passing through the dining room where everyone waited.

"Where are you going?" asked Yudhi.

"Reine's having problems with the chili powder.”

Mrs. Urwani got up from her seat and attended to Reine.

"Would you like some Milk and Milo?" offered Mrs. Urwani.

She poured a tall glass of milk and fetched the container of Milo from the cupboard. She dumped a spoonful of brown cocoa powder into the milk and stirred it. She handed it to Reine. Reine gulped it down. While she drank the chocolate flavored milk, Aunt Maly made a peanut butter sandwich. She sprinkled cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar over the peanut butter before adding the second piece of bread.

"Ahh!" gasped Reine as she finished her milk.

"Feeling better?" asked her

Reine nodded.

Aunt Maly mixed a third glass of milk for Reine, adding Milo at the end. They returned to the dining room and began eating. As everyone else enjoyed the spiciness of the curried lamb, Reine munched on her peanut butter and sugar and cinnamon and nutmeg sandwich.

"Aunt Maly?" she said.

"Yes, dear?"

"Why do we use spices for everything?" asked Reine.

"I suppose it has to do with us being the Spice Islands."

"What does that mean?"

"A long, long time ago, Indonesia was very famous for its spices. Whether its cloves or nutmeg or cinnamon, they all came from a place called Maluku. Have you heard of it?"

"I think so."

"Traders from China and Australia came to the Maluku Islands looking for fine things to trade. The people of Maluku had something nobody else did: exotic spices. In fact, for some time, the Nutmeg tree only grew in Indonesia."

"What happened next?" asked Reine.

"Ships came from Holland. Those traders had never experienced spices like nutmeg and cinnamon. Equally, the people of the Maluku Islands had never seen things like watches, clocks, and toys made of metal and iron. The Dutch also traded with people of China, bringing silk and cotton to the Indonesians. It was a good for everyone."

"Wasn't my father from Holland?" asked Reine.

"Yes, he was. Your last name, van Dyke, is definitely a Dutch name."

"Are you Dutch, Aunt Maly?"

"No, I'm part Indonesian and part Malaysian, just like your mother. That's why my mother named me Maly."

"How about you, Uncle Yong?"

"I grew up in China," replied her Uncle, "That's why Indonesia's motto is: 'Many Yet One.' Although we come from many places, we are all one people."

"Then what nationality is Uncle Pieter?"

"He's part Russian, part Turkish, and part Indonesian, too."

"Whew! That's too much to remember."

"Just remember that we're all Indonesian," replied Mrs. Urwani.
Reine nodded as she took yet another bite of her spicy peanut butter sandwich and followed it with a drink of malted chocolate milk. The spices, however, were nothing like the spices in the curried lamb. The cinnamon and nutmeg were warm and smoky, like a spice cookie. The sugar and chocolate were sweet, like sugar and chocolate always were.

At the end of her sandwich, Reine's tummy was full, mostly from the Milo Milk, but full nonetheless. She waited patiently for Susi to finish her curried lamb. The girls took their dishes to the kitchen sink and rinsed them.

"Mother, may we go outside and play bekel?"

"Why can't you do that inside?" asked Mrs. Urwani.

"You know we need a hard surface. We'll stay near the porch."

"I don't know."

"I'll go sit on my rocking chair and look after them," reassured Mr. Urwani.

"Thank you, Uncle Yong."

"Thank you, father."

Susi fetched a small leather bag from upstairs. She came downstairs and sat on the ground next to her father, who sat in his rocking chair. Reine kneeled next to her cousin. Susi opened the pouch and spilled its contents on the floor.

Bekel was one of those things that the Dutch brought to the Indonesians. It was their version of 'Jacks'. Each piece, however, looked more like a small copper letter H. Each side of the H was flat. One side, however, was marked with a red dot.

"You can go first," offered Susi.

Reine gathered the bekels and rubber ball in her hand and began to play. She tossed everything into the air and snatched the rubber ball before it bounced a second time.

After that, she tossed the rubber ball and picked up a bekel without disturbing any of the other bekel before the ball bounced a second time. She did this until she removed all the bekel.

"Pits up," said Reine.

She tossed the bekel on the ground and grabbed the rubber ball. Each time she tossed the ball, she adjusted one bekel at a time, so the red dots all faced 'pits up'.

"Pits up pick up," said Reine.

She picked the bekel up just like she had at the beginning of the game. Soon, she cleared all the bekels from the ground.

"Twos," said Reine.

She picked up the bekel two at a time.

Then, she started over, turning the bekel pits up two at a time.

Then, she picked up the bekels, two at a time.

Unfortunately, the ball bounced a second time as she attempted to pick up the pits up bekels two at a time. Now it was Susi's turn.

Quickly, Susi moved through the sets, picking up bekels and turning them, too. Soon, she had gone through every set.

"One point," she said.

She did so again, completing every set while Reine watched.

"Two points," she said.

Reine leaned over, placing her hands upon her knees.

"Is this boring you?" asked Susi.

“I guess so," replied Reine with a shrug.

"It's okay. I have bigger hands, plus I have been playing this since I was five. Now I am nine. Reema is even better at this than I am."

"It's okay," replied Reine, "What's the most sets you've completed?"

"Five, I think."

"Let's see if you can break your record."

Sure enough, Susi made it through five sets and moved onto her sixth set. Just then, Mrs. Urwani came out to watch the girls.

"It's getting late. I think you girls should get ready for bed," she announced.

"But Susi's setting her bekel record," pleaded Reine.

"Okay, but once she drops a bekel or misses the ball, you both have to come inside."

Now the pressure was on. Susi carefully completed her sixth and seventh sets. Mrs. Urwani came out to the porch again.

"Girls, it's time for bed."

The problem Susi now faced was the same one Reine had faced earlier. On the eighth set, Susi had to pick up eight bekels at one time. She made it through the first part. Unfortunately, as she moved on to 'eight pits up', she had a problem. She threw down the bekel. Only one bekel faced 'pits up'. She tossed the ball into the air. As it bounced, she tried moving the bekel with separate fingers. Before she could turn all bekel, the ball bounced a second time.

"Finally," said Reine.

"Yes, finally," echoed Mrs. Urwani.

Susi gathered everything and secured the leather pouch.

"I was rooting for you," said Mr. Urwani.

"Me, too," said Mrs. Urwani, "I am just very, very tired. Tomorrow is another day, anyway."

"Me, too," echoed Susi, "I don't think I would've lasted much longer, anyway. My eyes were getting tired from all that focusing."

The girls scurried upstairs, closely followed by Mr. and Mrs. Urwani. It wasn't long at all everyone's eyelids grew heavy with sleep. Luckily, tomorrow would be another day.

Spine of the Dragon

2009-07-12T01:04:00.000-07:00

As Ramadan came and went, so did the remainder of summer in Indonesia. In no time at all, Monsoon season would arrive, which meant heavy rains and flooded streets. In the meantime, Reine's wish would come true as she got her chance to visit the Urwani family. Susi sat on the couch next to the front window, waiting for Reine to arrive.

"Susi, Reine will be here when she gets here," said Mrs. Urwani.

"I know," replied Susi, "I'm just excited to see her again."

Meanwhile, Reine leaned out the passenger side window of her mother's car. The car traveled a mountain road leading into Yogyakarta. Reine watched a volcano fuming in the distance.

"How long until we get to Aunt Maly's?" asked Reine.

"Not long," answered her mother.

The Urwani house was located in the old part of Yogyakarta, called the kraton. Tall, thin houses, built in an old Dutch style, crowded the streets. Bicycles and motorcycles crowded the streets, too. They buzzed along, passing right by Reine. The car turned down an alley. The Urwani house was wedged between a tall, thin house and an old auto shop. Before the car could come to a stop, Susi ran out to greet Reine and Aunt Dona. Mrs. Urwani was close behind.

"Hello, Auntie! Hello cousin!" said Susi.

"Hello cousin!" replied Reine.

"Susi, let Aunt Maly park the car."

Susi and Reine waited impatiently as Aunt Maly fit the tiny car into the tiny space in front of the Urwani house. Afterwards, Susi and Reine quickly unpacked two bags of luggage and a large sleeping bag. The girls went upstairs to Susi's room, then returned downstairs to the living room where Aunt Dona and Mrs. Urwani were drinking tea. Yudhi sat across the room, reading a book and enjoying a bowl of soup.

"Yudhi, could you take us to Malioboro Street?" asked Susi.

"Right after I finish this chapter."

"I'd rather have everyone stay here. Mount Sindoro's acting up," said Mrs. Urwani.

"How about you go to the park instead?" suggested Aunt Dona.

"That's fine with me," said Reine, "I don't know what I'd do if the dragon woke up."

"What dragon?" asked Yudhi.

"The Mountain Dragon. That's what Grandpa Salim calls it," answered Reine.

"Grandpa Salim was talking about volcanoes," said Aunt Dona, "He used to tell us bed time stories about great warriors who chased the Mountain Dragons. The dragons would fly from island to island, hiding from the warriors. The only problem is that their smoky breath let the warriors know right where they were hiding."

"But that's just one of Grandpa Salim's tall tales," said Yudhi.

"It may be," said Aunt Dona, "but it's one of the warning signs a volcano is going to erupt."

"There are others?" asked Reine.

Her mother nodded.

"Have you heard of Krakatau?"

"Of course," replied Reine.

"There wasn't only smoke coming from the top of Krakatau, but the earthquakes shook the entire island."

"I don't understand how earthquakes could shake an entire island."

"It's called plate tectonics," said Yudhi, "the world is made up of lava and an outer crust."

Yudhi carefully placed several crackers in his soup. They floated on the surface.

"This is what the earth looks like," he stated.

Reine poked one of the crackers with a finger.

"What happens when the earth sinks? Are we all going to drown in the soup?"

"The earth never sinks, it's the Earth," replied Yudhi.

"That's not totally true," replied Mrs. Urwani.

"What do you mean?" said Yudhi.

"When two plates push together, one sinks and one rises. That's how mountains, islands, and volcanoes are created."

"We're located at the edge of two plates?" asked Reine.

"That's why we're part of the 'Ring of Fire'"

"What's the Ring of Fire?" asked Susi.

"Most of the world's volcanoes form a ring around the Pacific Ocean. From Indonesia to Japan to Canada to Chile. There are over 400 volcanoes in Indonesia alone."

"Wow!" said Susi.

"Those plates push together and make earthquakes, too."

Reine grabbed Yudhi's soup bowl and jiggled it in her hands.

"Reine..." scolded her mother.

"I was just making cracker-quakes."

"We all know what you were trying to do," said her mother, "but that's Yudhi's lunch."

Reine handed Yudhi his soup and he finished eating. Afterwards, he took the girls to a playground at a nearby park. Susi and Reine took turns going down the slide. Afterwards, they played tag on the jungle gym. Finally, Yudhi pushed the girls while they rode the swings.

"My arms are getting tired," said Yudhi.

"Just awhile longer, please?" pleaded Reine.

Yudhi granted her wish. As he pushed her swing, Reine kicked her legs back and forth, trying to reach as high as she could. Finally, she got tired of swinging. Without warning, she leapt from her swing and flew through the air. She landed on the ground, tumbling as she did.

"Are you okay?" asked Yudhi.

Reine took off into a sprint.

"Let's race to the bottom of the hill."

Yudhi chased Reine through a field of dandelions. Susi waited for her swing to come to a stop before she joined the chase. As Reine kicked through the stems, seedpods flew into the air. The thick, green field grass smelled like fresh onions.

Meanwhile, a pair of volcanic mountains loomed over the city. While one sat silent, a flume of black smoke seeped from the top of the second volcano. As Reine reached the bottom of the hill, she cartwheeled once and fell to her back. She looked up at the blue sky. Soon, Yudhi and Susi joined her.

"When do you think the volcano will erupt?" asked Reine.

"I don't know," said Yudhi, "It could be tomorrow, it could be five years from now."

"Five years?"

"My teacher says volcanoes can be active for hundreds of years without erupting."

"Whoa! That's a long time."

"Volcanoes are very old dragons," replied Yudhi.

"I suppose you're right," said Reine.

"As old as the mountains themselves," added Susi.

Before too long, the sky turned from blue to orange to red to black. Susi spotted a single star, twinkling in the sky.

"Everyone make a wish," she said.

"Okay, got mine," said Yudhi.

"Me, too," said Reine.

"Now keep it a secret," said Susi, "or it won't come true."

With that, Susi closed her eyes and made a wish of her very own. She got up and returned to the top the hill, with Reine and Yudhi on each side.

As she rode home, she looked over to her brother driving, then back to Reine, who rode in the back seat. In a way, her wish was already coming true.

Many Yet One

2009-07-11T01:38:00.000-07:00

Once a year, Susi and her family took a trip to her Grandparent's house for a holiday named Eid Ul-Fitr. Eid Ul-Fitr celebrated the end of Ramadan. During Ramadan, Muslims fasted from sunrise to sunset. Fasting was the practice of not eating for religious rituals. Eid Ul-Fitr marked the end of Ramadan, which also meant the end of fasting.

Susi loved Eid Ul-Fitr because she would get to see all of her cousins, and her aunts and uncles, too. Susi and her family were the last to arrive at her Grandparent's house. Susi raced to the door, where Grandpa Salim greeted her with a great big hug.

"Eid Mubarak!" said Grandpa, meaning 'blessed Eid'.

"Eid sa'id," replied Susi. It meant 'happy Eid'.

Aunt Lily came up and gave Susi and Reema (Susi's older sister) a hug.

"Are you ready for shopping?" asked Aunt Lily.

"I am ready to eat!" said Susi.

"One more night," reminded Aunt Lily.

"I know."

"We can keep our minds off tomorrow by thinking about today. Who wants to go shopping with me?"

"Me!" said Reema.

"Me, too," added Susi.

"Then I will take all the girls with me."

Eight women, young and old, packed into Aunt Lily's Minivan. When they arrived at the dress store, the girls ran inside.

Ankle-length dresses hung from the mannequins standing in the display window. Inside, dozens of mothers and daughters were shopping. Eid Ul-Fitr was a special time for young girls. It was one of the few times they were allowed to pick out fancy dresses.

Susi's sister Reema and cousin Sanna went their own way. leaving Susi with cousin Reine, who was barely four-years-old, and the old women.

"I want to go with them," pleaded Susi.

"Leave them alone," said her mother.

"We're more fun anyway," said Aunt Lily.

"I agree," said Aunt Dona.

Susi frowned as Aunt Lily led her through the store. Reine didn't understand why Susi was so upset. Reine giggled as each of the Aunts tried on outfits of all colors and shapes. Reine even enjoyed trying on a new sundress. Meanwhile, Susi sat on a chair next to the dressing room.

"When are you going to model a dress for us?" asked Aunt Lily.

"I don't know," sighed Susi.

"What's your favorite color?" asked Lily.

"Brown, I guess."

"Come with me. Let's find you a beautiful brown dress."

Aunt Lily dragged Susi through the store until she found some dresses. Some were Ikat and some were Batik. The names Ikat and Batik referred to the way the dresses were made. Susi noticed a bright purple dress with blue and gold designs.

"I've changed my mind."

"What do you mean?"

"I think purple is my favorite color," said Susi.

"Like this dress?" asked Lily.

Susi nodded.

Just then, Susi's mother joined them.

"This is a beautiful design," said Mrs. Urwani.

"Can I have it?"

"If it fits," replied Aunt Lily.

"It's a little pricy," said Mrs. Urwani as she looked at the price tag.

"No price is too high for my nieces," replied Aunt Lily.

Susi took the dress into one of the changing rooms. When she came out, everyone 'oohed' and 'ahhed.'

"Do you like it?" asked Susi.

"Of course!" said her mother.

"Then I like it, too."

After Susi changed again, the sales clerk took the dress and folded it carefully. She placed it with the others in a shopping bag. Aunt Lily paid for the dresses while Reine got the privilege of carrying the shopping bag. She held it tightly all the way home.

"We're back!" announced Reine as she entered Grandma's house.

"Can we see your new dress?" asked Mr. Urwani.

"You can wait until tomorrow," said Mrs. Urwani as she took the shopping bag and placed it in the closet.

Everyone gathered in the dining room. A basket of green bamboo leaves sat in the middle of the table.

Mrs. Urwani, Aunt Lily, and Aunt Dona each grabbed a handful of bamboo leaves and started weaving.

"Do you children know how to do this?" asked Aunt Lily.

All of the children but one nodded. That child was Reine. Aunt Lily placed a bamboo leaf into Reine's hands and twisted it into a loose coil. She then took another bamboo leaf and weaved it through the first leaf.

Slowly but surely, the interwoven leaves formed a tiny square purse. Aunt Lily adjusted each piece of bamboo until it was just right.

"There! Take this to your Grandma."

Reine obeyed her. Grandma Regina filled the pouch with uncooked rice and set it aside. She then returned her attention to the wok sitting on the stove.

"What are you making?" asked Reine.

"Resep Rendang."

Grandma Regina was stewing onions in the wok. They were fully cooked, but Grandma Regina did not remove them from the stove. Instead, she diced onions and garlic as fine as they could be chopped and mixed them into a paste. She added the paste to the onions, then squeezed a fresh lime into the stew. Grandma Regina covered the wok.

"What now?" asked Reine.

"Now we wait."

Grandma Regina pulled two stools up to the stove and sat on one. She offered the other to Reine, who sat beside her Grandma. Grandma Regina grabbed a handful of toothpicks from the counter and divided them into two equal piles.

"What are you doing now?" asked Reine.

"Let's play Semut, Orang, Gajah," said Grandma.

Semut, Orang, Gajah is Indonesian for 'Ant, Man, Elephant.' It's the Indonesian version of Paper, Rock, and Scissors. Elephant beats Man, Man beats Ant, and Ant beats Elephant.

Grandma and Granddaughter threw their fists towards each other, one, two, three.

Grandma put out a thumb. Reine put out her pointer finger.

"Gajah beats Orang," said Grandma as she bellowed like an Elephant and used her fist to trample Reine's tiny pointer finger. Grandma moved one of Reine's toothpicks into her own pile.

"Let's try again," said Reine, "One, two, three!"

Reine poked out her thumb. Grandma poked out her pinky finger.

"Semut beats Gajah," said Grandma.

She wiggled her pinky finger like a tiny ant and then moved another of Reine's toothpicks into her pile.

"I don't understand that," said Reine.

"You don’t understand what?"

"How on earth could Semut beat Gajah?"

"The tiny Semut can crawl into Gajah's ears."

"That still doesn’t beat him," argued Reine.

Grandma reached out towards Reine with her pinky finger, wiggling it towards her ear. Reine jumped from her seat and tan to the other side of the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" asked Grandma.

"You're going to tickle me."

"Exactly. That is why Semut beats Gajah."

Steam billowed from the wok as Grandma removed the lid. The stew had thickened into a paste. Grandma added large cubes of beef steak to the pot, followed by spices. She sprinkled in cinnamon, nutmeg, ground cloves, and cayenne pepper. She stirred the ingredients, coating the beef in a dark brown sauce. She poured a cup of coconut milk into the mix before replacing the lid.

"We have to wait again?" asked Reine.

Grandma nodded.

In fact, the wait was going to last overnight. Reine kissed everyone goodnight and went to the large bedroom in the back. The rest of the family participated in a special prayer for the last day of Ramadan. Before everyone went to bed, Grandpa Salim lit oil lamps in every room of the house. Finally, Susi and Reema joined Reine in the back bedroom, but Reine was already fast asleep.

Just before sunrise, everyone got up and ate a small breakfast of dates, cereal and goat's milk. Afterwards, most of the cousins, aunts, and uncles went to the Mosque for Eid Ul-Fitr prayers. However, Reine and her mother, who were Hindu, did not.

After everyone returned home, fourteen people gathered around three tables in two rooms. Mr. and Mrs. Urwani joined the other adults at the dining room table. Meanwhile, seven grandchildren gathered around two card tables in the living room.

During each day of Ramadan, the Urwani's did not eat from sunrise to sunset. It was called fasting. They fasted to purify themselves as the Qu'ran commanded, just like Muslims all across Indonesia. After thirty days of fasting, the Eid Ul-Fitr feast was a welcome treat.

Susi sat with her brother, her sister, and her cousin Reine.

"I saw the Ramadan Moon," said Susi's older brother, Yudhi.

"Me too," said Susi.

"I'm glad Ramadan is finally over. I've been so hungry."

"Me too," said Susi.

Aunt Lily and Aunt Dona brought serving platters to the children's tables.

"Who wants ketupat?" asked Aunt Lily.

Every child raised a hand. Aunt Lily dished out the ketupat. Each ketupat looked like a square packet made of interwoven green bamboo leaves.

Susi carefully unfastened the bamboo wrapping around her ketupat, revealing the steamed rice inside. She scooped the it onto her plate as Aunt Dona approached with a platter.

"Who wants Rendang?" asked Aunt Dona.

Again, every child raised a hand. Aunt Dona spooned portions of Rendang onto every child's plate. Chunks of stewed beef rested atop the steamed rice. The white rice changed to orange-brown as Susi stirred the Rendang into her ketupat. Susi took a bite.

"How is it?" asked Aunt Dona.

"The best in the world," replied Susi.

It was just as Susi remembered. The stewed beef melted in her mouth. The sauce, which was made from stewed onions, coconut milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, tasted smoky-sweet.

After dinner, Grandma gave a few pieces of Dodol to each child. The children unwrapped the candies and popped them into their mouths. Lips smacked as everyone chewed the sticky coconut-flavored toffee.

Grandpa Salim, Uncle Peter, and Yong (Susi's father) smoked clove cigarettes on the front porch. Grandma Regina counted toothpicks and handed them to the children. The children played Semut, Orang, Gajah while the women sat around the dining room table and chatted. At sunset, it was time for another prayer. Finally, it was time for everyone to go his or her separate way.

"Aunt Maly?" Reine asked Mrs. Urwani.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you think I could stay with Susi sometime soon?"

"I don't think that would be a problem. Do you, Susi?"

"Not at all."

"Good. I always wanted a big sister," said Reine.

Susi hugged Reine and said goodbye to every aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandparent. As Mr. Urwani drove back to Yogyakarta. Susi looked out the back window. She waved at little Reine and Aunt Dona. Although Reine disappeared from view, she did not disappear from Susi's thoughts. Susi was already making plans ifor Reine's upcoming visit.

Garuda's Grasp

2009-06-26T20:14:00.000-07:00

Nine-year-old Susi Urwani laid on her back on the living room couch, reading a pocket book. The room was dark except the single pool of light cast by the reading lamp hanging overhead.

Meanwhile, Susi's father was still working at the rubber plantation. Bucket by bucket, Mr. Urwani collected latex drippings from the rubber trees and loaded them onto the plantation truck. He would not be home until late.

Her sister Reema had gone shopping at Malioboro Street with Susi and Reema's cousin Sanna. Sanna and Reema weren't only cousins, but best friends, too.

Her brother, Yudhi, was working at Mr. Onato's Auto Shop. The Auto Shop was located next door to the Urwani house. Just then, Yudhi arrived home; He was covered from head-to-toe in engine grit.

"Hey, Tag-along, do you want to go to Kanisius Park with me?"

Susi looked up from her pocket book.

"You smell like a dirty old car," she said.

"I meant that we'd go to the park after I washed and changed," he said.

"Oh, okay."

Yudhi rushed upstairs and took a shower. Meanwhile, Susi folded the page of her book at the corner, marking her place. As she clapped the book shut, dust puffed from the pages.

"That smells awfully Dutch," she thought to herself as she held the book to her nose. She inhaled deeply. To Susi, 'Smelling Dutch' simply meant a sugary sweet, yet musty smell, like an old book of pastry recipes that had been forgotten on a library shelf.

Yudhi rumbled downstairs and stopped beside the couch.

"Is this better?"

"Much better."

"All right, come on, Tag-along."

Susi jumped up and followed Yudhi to the family car. He had given her the nickname 'tag-along' for the very reason anyone might suspect. Whenever Yudhi went somewhere, his mother made him take Susi It just became a habit that nobody broke. They rode through downtown Yogyakarta, passing the Presidential Palace before leaving the city. Kanisius Park sat three kilometers beyond the city limits.

A field of tall grass rolled down a hill. At the top of the hill stood a row of coconut palms. Yudhi parked his car and grabbed a blanket out of the back seat. Susi tagged along as they loped down the hill. About halfway down, they spread out the blanket and laid down, side-by-side.

Yudhi pointed out stars, planets, and constellations as they filled the empty blue sky.

"Where is the bull?" asked Susi.

"Look straight up."

He traced the familiar shape of the Centaurus, starting at the front leg.

"The easiest way to find the bull is to look for Alpha Centauri."

"That's such a bright star."

"It's actually three stars. If you look closely, you see one bright star and one faint star."

"Sort of," said Susi.

"The brighter star is actually two stars. One is called Alpha Centauri A and the second is called Alpha Centauri B. Each of them is about the size of our sun."

"Why aren't they as bright?"

"They're farther away. Thirty-seven light years away, to be exact."

"Where is the Eagle?" asked Susi.

Yudhi drew his finger over eight stars, forming the constellation known as Garuda: The Eagle. Yudhi had traced that constellation many times. He had also brought her to this exact spot two months earlier, to view meteor showers shooting through that same constellation.

Yudhi studied the sky whenever he could. For now, he worked on cars at the auto shop next door. Someday, though, he would be an astronomer, studying the stars.

"We'd better get back home. It's getting late."

Yudhi and Susi folded the blanket and then walked back to the car.

"Garuda is my favorite," said Yudhi.

"Why? It's not bright or easy to find like the Alpha Centauri."

"The eagle is the national symbol," replied Yudhi.

Susi had never considered that before. She knew that the Eagle was the national symbol, she just never knew her brother to be that patriotic, even during the month of Indonesia's Independence from Dutch rule.

As they returned home, the car shared the crowded streets with the many motorcycles that weaved in and out of traffic. On the way, they passed the Royal Palace again. Indonesians called it the Kraton. Old Dutch buildings stood side-by-side with old Palace. The Kraton's red-tiled roof and ivory walls stood out, expressing the old Islamic architecture brought by the Turks.

"Why is it called a Kraton?" asked Susi.

"It means something like 'Queen's Palace', I think."

"Isn't it where President Sukarno lived?"

Yudhi nodded.

"What happened to the Queen?"

"When Dutch traders came to Yogyakarta, they ousted the Queen. It wasn't until Sukarno came along that things changed."

"What did he do?"

"When the Japanese invaded Indonesia during World War II, Sukarno saw it as an opportunity. He helped the Japanese by letting them use the island. In return, the Japanese forced most of the Dutch off the islands. At the end of the war, the Japanese surrendered. Most of the people left were natives."

"What does the Eagle have to do with all of this?" asked Susi.

"It's our coat of arms. The golden Eagle holds a scroll in his claws that says 'Bhinneka Tunggal Ika'. It means, 'Many Yet One'."

"You know, even though Sukarno wanted the Dutch and Japanese rulers out of Indonesia, he understood there were still many Japanese and Dutch people living among us."

"I know. I have friends with relatives are from all over the world."

"You have relatives from all over the world. Uncle Pieter is Dutch and dad is Chinese."

Yudhi turned the car down the alley. The Urwani house was wedged between a tall, thin house and Mr. Onato's Auto Shop. Cars lined both sides of the alley, but Yudhi found a space near their house. As they walked back home, Susi held his hand.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"Just because," replied Susi.

Mr. Urwani was sitting on his rocking chair on the front porch. His old fingers were wrapped around a small clove cigarette. Thick white smoke curled from his lips each time he exhaled. As Susi and Yudhi neared the house, the smell of roasted chicken mingled with the smell of the clove cigarette.

"Where have you two been?" asked father.

"We went to Kanisius Park," replied Yudhi.

"Dinner smells awfully good, doesn't it?"

Both children nodded.

"We shouldn't keep your mother waiting," said Mr. Urwani.

Mr. Urwani led the family in Selah, a short prayer and blessing. Afterwards, everyone filled his or her plate with Nasi Goreng.

Susi twisted her fork in the noodles as she stared into her plate as she paused between bites.

"Susi?" asked Mr. Urwani.

Susi glanced toward her father.

"What is on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking that Ramadan is coming soon."

"Blessed be Allah, peace come upon him," said Mr. Urwani.

The rest of the meal was relatively quiet, except for the occasional "pass the rice". At dinner's end, there was a small bit of rice left over. As Mr. Urwani went outside to smoke, he took the bowl with him.

"Where are you doing with that bowl?" asked Susi.

"I was thinking about Ramadan, too. The Prophet Mohammad once said, "The person who eats his fill and does not think of the hungry is not a perfect Muslim. I'm going to place this bowl on the porch so maybe a stray cat or dog can eat."

Mr. Urwani sat the bowl on the porch next to his chair. Before long, a blackbird swooped down and stood beside the bowl. The blackbird looked at the bowl and then looked at Mr. Urwani and Susi. Without moving a muscle, Mr. Urwani glanced at the blackbird. Susi began to move, but Mr. Urwani carefully warned her with his stare and a very gentle headshake.

The blackbird took one step toward the bowl, and then another. At first, he slowly pecked at the bowl. He grabbed a piece of chicken in his beak and leapt from the porch. He did not return.

"That was amazing," said Susi.

"It sure was a surprise. I guess that's a good way to end a night, don't you think?"

Susi nodded.

Mr. Urwani went inside and left the bowl behind. Susi went upstairs to her room and changed into her pajamas. As Mr. Urwani went to his bedroom, he stopped to check on his youngest child.

"Sweet dreams," he said.

"You, too, papa."

Susi closed her eyes and listened to her father walking down the hall. Wooden floorboards squeaked as he walked across the floor. When he entered his bedroom, she heard him sit on the bed beside her mother. One slipper fell to the floor, then the other. Voices mumbled as her parents carried on a short conversation. Soon, everything was silent.

Susi pulled the blanket over her head, but poked her feet out the bottom. It was how she always slept - nose warm and toes cold. She drifted off to sleep, dreaming sweetly of golden eagles, star-filled skies, blackbirds, and Nasi Goreng.