From Atjeh to Mejong Lodaja, part two reading time approx 7 min
On the beach of Sigli, the two men sat next to each other with a bottle of whisky between them. Willem was not a fan of spirits, but he felt he could not be left behind. Arie laughed at him when he almost choked on his first sip. 'Take it easy, boy. Let the liquor roll through your mouth, from one cheek to the other, so that you can get used to the strength.' Willem felt the alcohol sting his nose. 'Quite strong stuff,' he sneezed. 'I have to agree with those Mohammedans on one thing: that shit is poison!' 'Does your father never have a drink in the Netherlands? Or are you people at home from the blue button?' Arie asked. 'Those farmers certainly know there way around with the bottle on Sunday morning after high mass.' 'My father will take a glass of gin, and my mother a brandy. But that's about it.' 'And you never felt like taking a sip too?' Willem chuckled. 'When my father was drinking, I lay in the haystack with the milkmaid. Those were the days. At milking time she neatly straightened her skirts and stepped into the stable in her clogs as if nothing had happened.' Arie hit him on the back. 'Ah! Squinting the kittens in the dark. Okay, I get that. But at home milk might have been good enough, here you have to learn to drink whisky! Have another drink.' 'Someday I might like it, but right now I do not appreciate it.' 'Well, to make it up to you, I have a surprise for you,' Arie announced. 'A witness came to me about the robbery in the port. The girl in question appears to be the daughter of an oeleëbalang. I happen to know her father and the issue is bothering him quite a bit. One of these days he will come with his daughter to return your purse.' Willem looked up in surprise. He was just thinking that the whisky taste in his mouth was sadly detracting from the heavenly view of the azure sea, but now his attention was completely on his friend again. 'The oeleëbalang? That's the sultan, right? I didn't know you moved in such high circles.' 'No, the sultan is in Koeta Radja. I don't come over there.' Arie chuckled. 'That's too ambitious for us, but we don't need that at all. An oeleëbalang is a much lower monarch. By himself he doesn't have much to say, but there are a lot of men with that status and together they are eroding the sultan's power. The great thing is that they also fight among themselves like a bunch of mad dogs.' Willem stared at him in confusion. 'What's nice about that?' 'We can benefit from that. The oeleëbalangs are in the pepper trade and we mediate in their contacts with the large trading houses in Pinang and Singapore. And that, dear Willem, is the only reason they tolerate us on their territory.' 'And who exactly do you mean by “we” and “us”? I don't know anything about any trade relations whatsoever.' 'I mean the merchants and myself as interpreter and mediator. You haven't achieved much in that area yet, so you don't count yet, but I made the oeleëbalang believe that you could play an important role in the future.' 'Well, that's nice, thank you,' Willem said mockingly. 'So those oeleëbalangs, who see us as Christian dogs, do business with us?' 'Yes, of course. Although I don't know how they will act when the Suez Canal is opened. If that ever happens, because there are quite a few delays.' 'Nothing new under the horizon. Delays are part of it, and that is no different in the Netherlands. What's so important about the Suez Canal?' 'Everything. Shipping to Batavia currently still goes along the south coast of Sumatra, through the Sunda Strait. Once the Suez Canal is completed, it will be much more practical for trading ships to sail to Java via the Strait of Malacca. So above Sumatra. Along Atjeh!' Willem for now saw no reason for great excitement. It's probably the amount of whisky that makes Arie so overly enthusiastic, he thought. 'We're going to be very rich, man!' Arie insisted. The drink had indeed made his tongue thick and sluggish, Willem concluded. 'We just have to wait for the big money to come sailing past our sands. I mean lands...' He nodded and his chin fell to his chest. The sun had turned to the west where it would set into the sea and the palm trees along the beach no longer provided shade. The hot rays of the sun mercilessly descended on Arie's thick, dark hair. Willem grabbed the slouch hat, which threatened to slide off the boulder into the sea, and placed it back on Arie's head. He had started to feel warm himself despite his light cotton clothing. The lapping of the waves past his feet gave him pleasure. He was glad he hadn't taken more than a few sips of the burning liquid in the bottle. His thoughts wandered to his shotgun. If Arie had contacts with the oeleëbalangs here in Atjeh, he thought he could arrange a hunting party for him. He could already see himself sitting next to the monarch on a square scaffold on top of an elephant, surrounded by the foot soldiers who had to chase the tiger out of the forest.
The oeleëbalang appeared with his entourage at the door of Aries merchant's house in Sigli, where Willem had taken up residence. Startled, Willem walked onto the front veranda, followed by Arie, who gave a solemn greeting to the monarch. 'As salamu alaykum – peace upon you,' said the monarch and Arie replied without hesitation: 'Wa alaykum salam – and peace upon you too.' Willem said nothing. He folded his hands across his chest and bowed. Hopefully this would be enough. The oeleëbalang was invited by Arie to come into the house. They took a seat opposite each other. Hot thick coffee was poured into small bowls and a lot of formalities followed. The girl with the black eyes sat next to her father. A lot more docile now than at our previous meeting, Willem thought. She carried a small bundle that she held tightly to her chest. The monarch handed Willem his money bag. Willem did not understand a word he said, but from Arie's translation he learned that the oeleëbalang apologized for his daughter's inappropriate behavior. The girl's name was Tjoet, so Willem was told. He was amazed again by her beautiful eyes. How could they be so black? She caught his curiosity and looked back with a bold look that belied the plight she was in. The monarch continued talking endlessly in short sentences and Willem saw a smile creep across his friend's lips. 'The monarch offers you his daughter to be your wife to confirm your future cooperation.' With her back straight, Tjoet crossed the distance between the monarch and the two Dutchmen. There was nothing left of her obedience, she did not seem the least bit defeated and laid her bundle at Willem's feet. It would contain her personal belongings. He shot Arie a withering look as the girl crouched in front of him. His friend had a hard time not to burst out in laughter. Willem raised both hands defensively, but the oeleëbalang tolerated no contradiction. 'This is not possible at all,' said Willem. 'I don't even have my own house. I have nothing to offer her.' But Arie did not translate anything and the monarch left with his entourage and without Tjoet. 'How can that man just give his daughter away?' Willem watched the departing procession in doubt. 'Oh, don't worry about that. These monarchs here all have several wives and countless descendants. He won't even miss her.' Willem looked at the girl who was still kneeling in front of him. 'But isn't she a bit too young to be someone's wife?' Arie asked the girl something in her own language. 'She's fifteen. That is a very normal age for the girls overhere to get married. They are often younger, thirteen is no exception. But let that lady finally stand up.' And so Willem had a wife before he even shot his first tiger.