Visiting DulIt’s been raining. Mak and I are at home. We’re not having showers in thelittle bathroom next to the kitchen. We washed earlier. We are totally readyto go. Mak has decided that we’re going to visit Dul. Mak said to me thattoday she has good news: Dul can walk a little bit with his new leg.‘You have to see your friend learning to walk again, Willa,’ says Mak.When at last the rain stops, we leave. Mak brings oranges and some storybooks. I was going to bring Very Tiny Yellow Chick. I wanted Dul to seemy new friend. But Mak said that this wasn’t what was needed right now.Very Tiny Yellow Chick will be better off staying at home with Mbok.Mak and me go on a becak.‘Do you know what Dul’s new leg looks like, Mak?’ I ask. I am wonderingif his toes still move. Like mine.‘It seems that Dul can use his leg to walk. But I don’t know whether hecan wriggle it about,’ Mak explains.In the entrance to the hospital is a nurse wearing a white skirt and whiteshoes and a white hat, who leads us to Dul’s room. But when we get to hisroom, we can’t see Dul.‘Did he already go home, Sister?’ Mak asks. e nurse shakes her head. Her forehead wrinkles. Her nostrils are.‘He can’t go home yet, ma’am. But here’s the thing. Every day he walksand runs on the grass in the yard. And then when he falls down he calls usand gives us extra work. He’s a very naughty boy,’ she says.And then she goes out of the room, shaking her head from left to right.In front of this room, there’s a huge yard full of grass, with an enormoustree on the right-hand side. I follow the nurse from behind.Suddenly: ‘Willaaaaaaaaaaaaa!’Dul!
From behind that one tree in the yard, I see him and he’s getting closer andcloser. His steps are shaky, as if he is about to topple over any minute. But itonly takes a second for him to reach us. He says hello to Mak.And then he sits down quickly in the chair. e nurse still seems unhappy. She is wringing her hands. And thosenostrils are practically heaving. She tells Dul to learn to walk, not to run.Or else he’s just going to fall over. Dul is laughing pretty hard. e nursesnorts pretty hard. And then she leaves. Gone.‘You have to see this, Willa!’ says Dul as he pulls up his sarung. A greywhite leg appears. Oh, it’s his new leg. Mak peers at it closely. en: Tok… tok... tok… Dul knocks on his leg!‘My leg has its own sound, Willa!’ Dul laughs. Wow, wow, wow! I touchit. It’s hard! I can’t pinch it. And when you knock it makes the sound.‘It can be used as a musical instrument.’ Dul knocks his leg again, and hestarts to sing a tune he made up. Me too. We sing a Javanese song called‘Dondong Opo Salak’.1 Mak joins in too. She stands near Dul’s bed. Her eyesshine with tears. I want to ask her why but I forget. I’m too happy singingwith Dul.Notes1 Dondong Opo Salak – a funny rhyming nonsense song, ‘Ambarella or Snakefruit?’
Radio #1Mak loves to sing. And Pak does too. But I prefer to sing along with Mak. e songs Mak sings are more like the hits on the radio. Not like Pak’ssongs. I can only listen when he sings the songs – I can’t join in with himwhen he’s singing. Mak told me it’s because Pak loves to sing Dutch andEnglish songs.Every day, from morning till night, Mak listens to the radio. Mak can singjust about every song that is played on the radio. If there’s a new song thatshe doesn’t know yet, she’ll say, ‘Ah, this is a new song!’ And then she’llquickly look for a pen and start writing down the lyrics. Later on, when thisnew song comes on, Mak will be all ready to sing along. And if it’s repeatedagain, I’ll be sitting next to her. Singing with her. When I started to learnto read, Mak asked me to read the lyrics she’d written down.I just love singing with Mak. If a song nishes and the broadcasters startchatting, Mak will stand in front of the radio. Mak’s eyebrows start gettingall wrinkled while she listens to the radio announcements. Mak says weshould listen to the radio more often. Because, who knows, there might besome important news coming soon.Our radio, named ERRES, is in the shape of a big box. It’s split into twoparts. At the bottom, where it’s hard, there are two big buttons at eitherside: one on the left and one on the right. e left button is for turning theradio on and off. As it turns on, it makes a little ‘click’ sound. And then thelittle lamp at the bottom of the radio comes on. And then, lines andnumbers appear in that little window. If you turn the button on the right,the little red needle moves around. Mak says that this needle shows theradio frequency. If you turn the button on the left, to the right the needlegoes to the right. If you turn the button to the left, the needle goes to theleft. If the needle stops in the wrong place, this totally weird sound comesout: crzzzz crzzzz crzzzz kresek kresek and then nguiiiiiiiiiiiing!
I really like it when that weird sound comes out. But Mak doesn’t like it. Ithurts her ears, she says. Mak has a really strong knack for getting the littlered needle in exactly the right place. Right in there, somewhere in themiddle, is where we can listen to all the songs.Mak says that’s the frequency owned by RRI (Radio Republik Indonesia).Above the hole there is a section covered with fabric with little holes in itand decorated with a dakocan doll on the right. is is the bit that vibrateswhen the sound is coming out of the radio.One day, I stand up on a chair and climb onto the sideboard to try to openthe part of the radio which the cloth covers.Mak is yelling, ‘My goodness, Willa! What on earth are you doing to theradio?’I explain that I want to see the tiny people in there who are alwayschatting and singing away on the radio. Mak grabs my arms and pulls meoff the chair.Mak says there are no tiny people inside the radio. ere’s only electricalequipment.‘So who is it that sings and chats on the radio?’Mak says the electrical instruments catch the frequency sent out by theradio station, RRI. In the radio station, the broadcasters play the songs andchat away on the air, and then this comes into our radio. And into otherpeople’s radios. I don’t really understand Mak’s explanation. But I know sheis right. It would be difficult for all those tiny people to get inside that tinyradio.‘Willa, imagine if Lilis Suryani was singing on our radio. And then LilisSuryani was also singing on Ida’s radio. If Lilis Suryani was inside the actual
radio, it would mean there were lots of Lilis Suryanis. Which is impossible,because there’s only one Lilis Suryani in this whole wide world. With themachinery inside the radio, we can all listen to the voice of Lilis Suryani atthe same time. Or listen to the news at the same time and in the differentplaces… Do you understand, Willa?’I do. I understand. So there is no one inside the radio, just electronics. Butwhat do they look like? And how do you get the songs and theconversations?Mak tells me there are broadcasters talking and playing songs somewhereout there. I want to know more. I want to see them! Suddenly Mak takesmy hand.She says, ‘Now that you know there is no one inside the radio, just bits ofelectronics, please stay away from the radio. Don’t you try to open it again.OK?’How does she know that I still want to see the inside of the radio?Mak stares long and hard into my eyes.‘Willa, promise me, you will not start ddling with this radio.’Promise?Eurgh. I don’t want to promise, I am still really really curious about whatgoes on inside a radio.‘Willa, do you agree?’Why does Mak have to ask me if I agree?It means that I have to agree with her.If I say no, Mak will growl.And I don’t like a growling Mak.Her face becomes, let’s say, less than friendly.Trust me.
Radio #2I’m not allowed to visit Ida at her house this evening.I’m not allowed to play in the doll’s room.I’m not allowed to play with my swing.Mak is angry. And the reason? ERRES. Our radio.Well, strictly speaking, it wasn’t ERRES.It was me.I was the one who did e ing to ERRES. is afternoon, when Mak went to visit Aunt Lily at Alley No. 10, Iclimbed onto the sideboard, where the radio lives. e little picture of thedakocan doll seemed to be calling me. So I got closer to it and turned thebutton on the left. e light came on. I heard the sound ‘nguiiiiiing…’ so I kept turning thisbutton until the sound was right. From the sound of the voice, I knew I’dreached the right frequency for RRI. e broadcaster talked for a bit thenplayed a song.I looked at the left side of the radio where it’s all closed up. I looked at theright side of the radio. All closed up too. I turned ERRES upside down,just a little bit. e back of the radio was covered by some thin board.(After everything had happened, Mak told me that this isn’t actuallywooden board. It’s actually called cardboard.) I saw four screws, one in eachcorner. I knew how to open them: a screwdriver!I jumped down quickly. I knew just where I could nd a screwdriver:inside Pak’s tool box, which lives in the corner of the living room. at’sright, the room where the swing is.Wow! So I was extremely pleased to discover that Pak really has a lot ofscrewdrivers. He has little ones and medium-sized ones and huge ones.Some are at, and then there are those screwdrivers with the end split intofour. I took one that had an end split into four. I knew it was the right one.It looked like it was going to and… it tted. Yep, I turned those screws SO
EASILY. In a ash, the screws were swiveling up and up and up… andthen they were loose. And then all four were out. e cardboard was stillstuck to the radio. But there was a little hole. So I put my nger in thishole. It tted pretty well. Maybe a bit too well. My nger was stuck in thatlittle hole. So I tried to pull my nger out… and the cardboard came awaytoo. With my nger still stuck in it.And Mak was right. ere weren’t any men chatting away to themselves, there was no LilisSuryani and there was no one inside playing the guitar or the trumpet orthe piano. ere was nobody. Just that little light shining. And then therewas a yellow cable all coiled up, and another cable on the left-hand side thatwas draped over to the right. I was just about to try and touch the lightwhen I clocked that Mak was standing over me. In one move, she’d grabbedme and lifted me off the sideboard. My nger was still inside the little holein the cardboard. I heard Mak growl. Like an angry cat. I saw that hereyebrows were furrowed: her two eyebrows looked like they were joined up.Her forehead was all scrunched up and wrinkly. Mak set me down on mywicker chair. She took the cardboard off my nger and put it on thesideboard.‘What did I tell you yesterday about this radio, Na Willa?’ asked Mak.I was silent. My heart… I could feel my heart beating in my throat. It wasthumping so hard. I swallowed and tried to say something. I couldn’t.‘I’m asking you a question, Willa. You have to answer,’ said Mak, with avoice as hard and at and cold as an iron ruler.I looked into her eyes. en I closed my eyes. Mak was really really angry.I knew it.‘Na Willa…’‘You said I shouldn’t play with the radio. You told me that the radio is nota toy,’ I said at last.‘So, what on earth were you doing just now?’‘I just wanted to know what happens inside the radio, Mak.’I could feel my eyes getting all hot. My throat was completely dry.Mak took a deep breath. She sighed. She bowed her head. And when shelooked up again, she said, ‘It’s so dangerous to open the radio while it’sturned on, Willa!’
She was still using that iron ruler voice.But her eyebrows had gone back to normal.‘Do you remember when you put your nger in the plug socket?’Mak reminded me about at Other Time.I nodded.‘Do you remember what it felt like?’I nodded again. It had felt like my body was completely stiff and that myheart was thumping up in my face and that everything else was vibrating.‘Opening up the back of the radio where the light comes on means youcould have got another electric shock. It’s so dangerous, Willa. Do youunderstand?’I nodded.Mak then stood up and left me alone on the wicker chair. She walked overto the sideboard and picked up the cardboard, screws and the screwdriverthat were scattered all over the place. en Mak waved at me to come too.I got up and went to her. Mak pulled at the cable which goes into theelectricity socket. She told me to climb onto the sideboard.What did she want?‘Do you want to know what’s inside the radio? Come here then. Up youcome. Have a look.’Mak wanted me to look inside the radio? Was this for real? ere wasnothing for it but to do what she said. And so Mak started explaining allabout how a radio works.When she’d nished, Mak picked up the cardboard and screws andscrewdriver.‘Now, please put them back together again,’ she said. ‘And don’t comedown until you’ve nished.’ en she left me on my own.I felt so happy.I tried to put everything back, but I realised it wasn’t very easy to put themexactly where they were meant to go. My hands started to get tired. I wasdripping little beads of sweat. I sighed, without meaning to. (I was feelingpretty grumpy.)
‘What’s wrong, Willa?’I heard Mak’s voice. ‘Do you need a hand?’‘It’s OK, Mak. I can manage,’ I said in my most ultra-determined voice.I started to lose patience. I had to put in the screws one by one and thenscrew them in the screwdriver. I needed both hands to turn the screwdriver.I also needed to keep the screws positioned in their holes. I needed twohands to do this as well! But it was impossible for me to ask for Mak’s help.I was the one who had taken everything off. Now I had to be the one whoput it all back. e rst and the second screws were the trickiest to do, butafter that it got easier. And when two screws were in tight, well then it wasa cinch.By the time Mak told me lunch was ready, all the screws were where theyought to be. Mak checked them by turning the screwdriver to tighten them
up. She put a little cloth over the radio. en she walked up to me, reallyclose.‘Willa, you broke your promise to me that you wouldn’t open up the backof the radio. And you did it when the radio was connected to the electricity.You have put yourself in terrible danger. And so, for that reason, I have topunish you’.I nodded.‘You aren’t allowed to play today. I’m forbidding you from playing at Ida’s,Bud’s or Dul’s houses.’I nodded again.‘Hmm?’‘I’m not allowed to play, but can I read some books, Mak?’Mak sighed. She looked up at the ceiling. en she said: ‘Yes, you may.But I’m choosing the book.’So I’ve been reading Mak’s book with the cover that’s all torn. I can’tremember how many pages I’ve read. It’s just words everywhere. ere arealmost no pictures. After maybe thirty pages there’ll be a picture, withwomen wearing huge ouncy skirts, like chicken coops. Anyway, the booktells this story about four girls who live with their mum. And their father?He went to war.
SundayIt’s de nitely Sunday.Because I am sneezing at the smell of spicy fried rice. Mak has cookedsome up. ere are tomatoes and there are omelettes sliced up into slenderlittle strips and sprinkled on the rice.It’s de nitely Sunday.Because Mak’s turned the radio on and it isn’t playing Lilis Suryani buttraditional Javanese songs.It’s de nitely Sunday.Because I have to get up quickly so my bed can be laid out to dry out inthe sun. is afternoon, when we get back from church, the beds will getshaken out and beaten with rattan. I love helping Mak shake out the bed.After the bed has been beaten with rattan, little stars come oating off itand they drift about all over the place. So many of them! e moment I try and catch these stars with my hands or with my mouth…they vanish. Sometimes, when I try and catch them I start sneezing.Mak says that what’s coming out of the mattress is just dust, not stars.
is eveningEvery evening, once she’s had her bath, Farida isn’t allowed to go out. Itgets busy at her house. Lots of children come. Farida is there too. Mak saysthat Farida is learning to recite. In amongst all the different voices, I canalways hear Farida’s voice.What would it be like if I went on over there? I wonder. I’m sure Faridawouldn’t mind, because almost every day she asks if we can play together.But what about Mak? is evening, Farida has asked me to go round again. I have to tell Mak: Ireally want to go.‘I want to go over to Farida’s house. Can I, Mak?’‘Hmmm, here’s the thing: Farida’s learning to recite. It’s not a game,Willa. It’s the same as praying and reading the Bible in church.’‘I want to see what’s it like, Mak.’‘Well, you’d better ask Gus Salim or Farida’s mum rst.’‘Farida said I can go.’‘Hmm, well, let’s us both go over there. It doesn’t seem like they’ve startedyet.’Mak and me hold hands, cross the street together and then go up toFarida’s house.Gus Salim is standing in the opening of the big front door.Mak takes off her shoes and goes over to him. ey stand close to oneanother, talking. I have a hunch that it’s all about me, because I see thatMak keeps looking over at me. Gus Salim is doing the same. And then theystart laughing together and nodding their heads and bending over. enthey call me to them.‘Willa, I’ve talked to Gus Salim and he says you can go in. But remember,this is not a playground: you’re not to make any noise. And you’re not to doany nosing around or looking for Farida. And no running. Just sit quietly atthe back. Can you do that?’‘I can, Mak.’
‘Promise?’I walk in and go to the very back. In front of me, there are children sittingdown in rows. e boys are in front, each wearing a sarung and a fez, whilethe girls are behind and wearing white clothes from head to toe. All thechildren are holding these little sticks that they use to point at the big booksin front of them. Ahmadi, Farida’s brother, is also there. As soon as I sitdown, he comes and gives me a big book, a book holder and one of thosesticks. I get given all of this! I have a good look around me before I openthe big book. I point at the writing and, though I can’t read it, I can join inwith the sounds that everyone is making, because I’m so used to hearingthese same sounds from inside my house.A little while after the reading and the pointing with the sticks, all thechildren start to get up. ey tidy up the books and the book holders andthey collect the sticks up. I do the same. Everyone stands up. at includesFarida and all the other girls who are wearing white. It’s just me who isn’twearing white.And why is that, I wonder?I want to wear the same clothes as everyone else. But Ahmadi didn’t comeand give me any clothes. In fact, there is nothing white here that I can wear.Where can I get the same white clothes as Ida?Ah, I remember: there’s some white cloth at home.And I know exactly where to nd it.I get up and race home.It only takes me a moment before I’m back at Farida’s house again.I have a large white piece of cloth and I’ve draped it over my head,wrapped it round my neck and then sort of wrapped it round it my body.It’s done! I look a lot like Farida now. is is EXCELLENT.And then I hear Mak calling me from over the road. She’s using a reallyloud voice. Oh dear, what’s going on? I peer outside. Mak is standing infront of the fence. She has her hands on her hips. Her forehead is, yes,wrinkled. Oh oh oh… Why does Mak want to take me home all of asudden? It was Mak herself who said it was ne for me to join in here. AndMak had permission from Gus Salim. So what is this all about? I haven’t
made any noise. I didn’t disturb Farida. I didn’t run about. What is goingon?‘Na Willa, you must be punished.’ Mak looks absolutely furious.‘But why do I have to be punished? You told me I could join in. You toldme I could hold the little stick…’‘Yes, I did say that was ne. But look at what you’ve done!’I think: Mak is cross because I’m wearing this white cloth and look justlike Farida.‘ is sheet had just been all nicely washed and ironed by Mbok. We didn’teven have a chance to put it on the bed. It was perfectly clean! And thenyou took it with you across the street. And now look at it: it’s lthy!’Mak is pointing to the bottom of the sheet that I took so I could look likeFarida.Mak is right. e sheet is now really really dirty.It’s gone all brown along the bottom. Heck.‘You’re forbidden to come with me to the market. You’re to stay here withMbok and wash this bed linen. Until it’s perfectly white again. Do you hearme, Willa?’I nod.‘Where is your voice, Willa?’I nod again and say, ‘Yes, Mak.’
PartyFarida. at’s Farida’s – Ida’s – voice. She’s calling me from the outside ofmy house. Before I reach the door, she’s already standing beside Mak’ssewing machine. She smiles. You can see her black teeth. ey’re line upneatly but look like they’ve been eaten by worms.‘Come to my house!’ she says.A ha! I’d almost forgotten! is morning, when Mak was taking me toschool, Mak had said:‘Today I’m going to Ida’s house to visit her mother. You can come and joinus later if you want.’I’ve just remembered this message. No wonder when I got home onlyMbok was in the house.‘What’s happening in your house?’Ida is tap-tap-tapping her feet impatiently.‘My mum is cooking. She’s making cucur.1 Come ON!’She pulls my hand and I follow her. We go to Ida’s house: you can’t missthe chance to eat cucur. I love cucur. Especially the kind that Ida’s mothermakes: it is always totally delicious. Ida is impatient, holding my hand. Wecross the street, pass the fence, pass the garden (with no plants in it) andthen head into the kitchen that’s on the left side of the house. All thewomen who live down our alley (our alley is called Gang Krembangan) arehere together in the kitchen, Mak included.It’s really crowded and noisy, with people crammed next to the stove andby the chopping board (which we usually use as a bed or chair for our dolls). ere are heaps of vegetables gathered in the basket and in the cupboardand in the basin at the corner of the kitchen. ere’s lots of meat all set outin big pans. Coconuts (a LOT of coconuts) are sitting waiting to beshredded. I don’t know when on earth it will all be nished. is bigkitchen where we sometimes play hide and seek suddenly seems so narrow.I wander around the kitchen. I still can’t nd any cucur. Ida grabs my handagain and we head out of the kitchen and out to the hall, which brings us to
all the big rooms that have heavy teak doors. I’m just opening the door toIda’s room, the smallest room in the house, when she pulls at my hand.‘Not there!’ she says, running back out along the hall.And suddenly she stops in front of the second last room.‘Whose room is this?’ I ask.Ida doesn’t reply. She is already pushing open the door. Inside is a bedcovered in pink, shiny sheets. ere are jasmine owers and roses andasparagus leaves all arranged and xed with pins to certain parts of the bed. ere are four big pillows leant against the bedhead. And then, on top, along tulle cloth hangs delicately on either side of the bedhead. In themiddle of the bed there is a ower arrangement. I’ve never seen a bed asbeautiful as this. I really want to jump about on it. I decide that would be anextremely fun thing to do.Just as I’m thinking of asking whose room this is again, Mbak Tin, Ida’sthird sister, appears in the doorway. She’s not smiling like she normallydoes. Her face is pale and her eyes are all puffy and red. She moves slowly,sitting down on the stool and staring at the dressing table which is alldecorated too. It is covered with lots of owers.‘What are you doing here?’ she asks us in a soft voice.Ida is grinning. ‘Eating cucur!’ she says, pointing to the great stack of cucuron the little table to the left of the dressing table.On the table there are other plates piled with cakes and sweets. Mbak Tintakes a deep breath and passes the plate to us. At that moment I see thather eyes are lled with tears.I gure she really doesn’t want us to eat her cucur.I look at Ida as she takes the plate and puts it on the oor. She sits down,takes a piece of cucur and crams it straight into her mouth.‘Come on. Let’s eat!’ she says, her mouth still full. I sit down next to her.‘Get eating!’ she says again, putting a second bit of cucur into her mouth.I turn to look at Mbak Tin.Ida puts her lips right up against my ear.‘Mbak Tin is getting married!’‘Oh! Can I stay and see it?’Ida laughs at my question. ‘Yes, you may! She’s getting married in twodays. Mbak Tin, can Willa see you as a bride?’ says Ida.
And at that moment, Mbak Tin starts sobbing. Her body shakes. I dropthe cucur I was holding and it falls onto the oor.But Ida doesn’t stop eating. She whispers into my ear, ‘It’s kind of normalto cry a lot when you are a bride. I think it must be,’ she says.Mbak Tin’s crying gets even louder. Ida carries on whispering: ‘If someoneisn’t crying, it means they aren’t happy about getting married.’Mbak Tin rises from her chair and throws herself onto the bed. Facedown.Her hands are pounding the pillow.Her legs are kicking up and down. e owers fall from the bed.Suddenly Ida is choking. Her eyes go wide, confused.I pick up the cucur that fell on the oor.We both creep out of the room.All that afternoon, we don’t go back into Mbak Tin’s room.We don’t want to.Notes1cucur – a tasty and sweet deep-fried snack, often made from rice our mixed with palm sugar
e brideIda and I are playing by the kitchen.We play that we’re cooking the leftover vegetables, until Mak comes overand asks me to come home with her.It’s already starting to get dark.Back at home, Mak and I sit out on the terrace. Suddenly I rememberabout Mbak Tin.‘Mak, is a person supposed to cry when they are getting married?’Mak lifts her head.‘Normally, we cry out of happiness. While the ceremony is happening, wemight be crying and laughing at the same time. Why do you ask?’‘Ida and I were in Mbak Tin’s room. We were eating cucur. And then wesaw her crying…’‘And?’ Mak asked.I told her the whole story of everything I’d seen happen in Mbak Tin’sroom.Mak takes a long deep breath. ‘Maybe she doesn’t want to get married yet.’‘She doesn’t want to get married? at’s funny! I really want to getmarried! I’ll wear a beautiful long shiny dress and a crown and I’ll putlipstick on.’‘Willa, getting married is not just about wearing a long shiny dress and acrown and putting lipstick on. Marriage means you are ready to be a womanand take care of a house and your husband. It means having children. ereare so many things that have to be done.’
‘So you can’t play any more?’‘You can’t.’So that was the reason Mbak Tin was crying.She must be feeling sad because she won’t be able to play any more. Shewon’t be able to ride her bike round the village, or zoom her bike down thealley like we do every afternoon, or run about being noisy and laughing withher friend – a boy – on the way home from school.‘Mak, if that’s what it’s like, I don’t want to get married,’ I said.‘Willa, when you get older and nish studying and earn your own money,then there will be plenty of time get married. And if it happens, you’ll behappy. And me and your father will be happy too.’‘When will that be, Mak?’‘Oh, it’s a long way off. You still have lots of time.’‘A really long time?’‘Yes, a really long time, when you’re taller than me.’Oh, that seems too long. I’m only about as tall as Mak’s thigh right now.Humph. at night before I sleep, I pray to get bigger and taller as soon as possible.So I can be taller than Mak.
e night of the partyMak has got our dresses all ready for Mbak Tin’s wedding party. For me,there’s a pink organza dress. It has this long, wide ribbon that ties up at theback. Mak is going to be wearing a red dress. e collar is square-shapedand the sleeves are short – just below the shoulders. e bottom of her skirtis wide like an umbrella. Mak tries on her dress and she looks in the mirror.She is so beautiful. And she’s even more beautiful when she takes the rollersout of her hair.I have my hair in rollers too. My hair is wrapped up using little bits offolded newspaper and then fastened with rubber bands. When we let it allloose, my hair will be wavy.I really love dressing up.‘Can I put some lipstick on too, Mak?’‘Absolutely not, Willa.’Drat. I really want to put some on. I want to have red lips like Mak. Itlooks so beautiful.‘Why not, Mak?’‘Because lipstick is not for children. You and the other little girls – none ofyou need any lipstick. And that’s because your lips are beautiful just as theyare. You don’t need more colour. Your lips are already gorgeous. See?’Mak holds my shoulders and shows me my re ection in the mirror. Shetouches my cheeks and gives me this huge smile.‘Willa, you’re so beautiful! My daughter is beautiful!’ she says again.I show her my happiest smile, and Mak hugs me.Yes, I don’t need any lipstick. Mak is right.In the evening, Ida’s yard is lled with people. We can hear loud musiccoming from over there. I want to set out rightaway. But Mak says thatwe’ll go later, that we can wait, that there’s no hurry. It’s not until sunsetthat Mak starts putting her shoes on. We hold hands and cross the street toget to Ida’s house. ere are so many guests in the house. I look around for
Ida but I can’t see where she is. Mak takes my hand and we go into theliving room. ere I see Mbak Tin standing in her shiny dress. Her cheeksare rosy pink. Her lips are red. Her eyes are red too. Standing next to her isa man. A big man. With a moustache. And a beard. And a fat belly. Andgolden teeth in his mouth that suddenly appear when he smiles. is mancan’t stop smiling. Mbak Tin is not smiling at all.When we get closer and take Mbak Tin’s hands, I see that she is crying.Mak hugs her. She pats her shoulder. e man standing next to Mbak Tinis still smiling. His golden teeth are gleaming again. ere are so many ofthem.At that moment I have this feeling that I don’t like him very much.I don’t know why.I want to go home as fast as possible.
Going to school is morning Nyonya1 Chang is visiting our house. I love looking atNyonya Chang’s hair. It’s soft and yellow and rolled up like a snail at theback of her head. When the sun lands on Nyonya Chang’s hair, it shinesand shines. Mak says that Nyonya Chang must have been so beautiful whenshe was young, because even now – with her wrinkled face – she lookswonderful. I agree with Mak.Another thing I like about Nyonya Chang is that she always brings me apresent. Today she has brought me a bag full of little chocolate umbrellas.And she gave Mak a stack of books. I hope there might be some children’sbooks in amongst them that I can read.Mak tells me to let Mbok know that Nyonya Chang has arrived. ismeans Mbok has to prepare hot tea and sugar, and get the small spoons. Ifwe have any cakes we’ll serve them up too. After I’ve nished helpingMbok, I go to the middle room behind the living room. I sit down on mychair. e one under the window. From there I can hear Nyonya Chang andMak chatting. Nyonya Chang asks Mak about Pak. Mak tells her that Pakis still in Jakarta and he can’t come home just yet as he still has a lot of workto do.I love hearing Nyonya Chang speak. She sounds different. Not the same asMak or Pak, or really anyone else I know. I ask Mak about her accent andshe says it’s because Nyonya Chang isn’t Indonesian. She’s an Americanwho’s been living here for a long time and is married to Mr Chang, theowner of the bookstore in Kembang Jepun. ey’ve not been talking for long before I hear my name being mentioned.Straightaway I sit bolt upright. Nyonya Chang says, ‘Marie, Willa has to goto school.’A ha! School! I really want to go. What will Mak say? Come on, Mak.Answer her. Mak, don’t just be quiet!‘Maybe you can teach her to read and write. But she’s got to get used tothe whole world of school. She needs to make friends beyond her
neighbours. And there will be teachers… She’ll learn so many things atschool.’Mak… Mak stays silent.I really want to see what’s happening. Oh! Mak looks like she’s shakingher head. She doesn’t agree. All of a sudden I want to burst into tears. I feelso sad. Mak doesn’t want me to go to school. I get up out of my wickerchair. I go into the kitchen. Mbok is sitting there, peeling shallots. She asksme why I’m all moody. I hold my breath as I try to answer. I cry into herlap.‘What’s happened now?’ she asks. I’m crying but not making any noise atall.I don’t know where she came from but suddenly Mak is standing behindme. She’s looking at me in surprise, eyebrows raised.‘Crying? Why? You don’t want to go to school?’What did she say? at I don’t want to go to school? No! at’s not right!No no no! I’m crying because… Ah stop it! Stop it! I wipe my tears andstand up in front of Mak.‘Am I going to go to school, Mak?’‘Yes. You must. Don’t you want to?’I start leaping about. I hold onto Mbok. She’s laughing and shaking herhead.‘I’m going to go with Nyonya Chang, and she’s going to help me get youregistered at the school. You’ll start tomorrow,’ says Mak.OK, so I’ll start tomorrow. Tomorrow? I’m leaping about again and I onlystop after my feet bash into Mbok’s stool. Ouch! Mak has a look at my feet.Everything is ne. She pats my head and then hurries off out of the room.She changes her clothes, grabs her handbag. She puts on her shoes and goesstraight out with Nyonya Chang. Together they head off on their bikes.I can’t stop singing. I can’t stop smiling. I can’t wait to see Ida when she getshome from school. Also Dul. ey have to know that from tomorrow I’ll beone of them. I’ll be a school kid. I can’t wait till Mak gets home… Why isshe taking so long?
Notes1 Nyonya – Mrs
SchoolAt last Mak comes home in the afternoon. I’ve already seen her bike comeinto the alley, headed towards home. I run outside. As she gets closer I cansee lots of bits of paper all tied up with string and stacked in the bikebasket. Mak gets off the bike and together we walk into the house.‘School, Mak?’ I can’t be patient any longer. I just have to ask her about it.‘Yes, you’re going to school.’ is is epic. I really am going to school.‘When will I go, Mak?’‘Tomorrow. Is that alright with you?’I am leaping around again. Tomorrow! Mak is shouting and telling mecalm down and relax because I’m nearly falling over as I jump up and down.I’m so excited.As we go into the house, I see Ida standing in front of her fence. Ha!From tomorrow, she won’t be the only girl (in this alley) who goes to school.I will too! Me and school: YES.At home, Mak is unpacking her bag. ere are so many things inside. Auniform. For me. A ribbon. For me. A drawing book. For me. A notebook,pencil, eraser and bag. All for me. ere’s also a box made out of tin.What’s this, Mak?’‘A lunch box for you to take to school.’Ah! en Mak takes out a small squat bottle made of plastic. It’s yellow.‘And what about this one?’‘ at’s your drinking bottle. If you don’t bring anything to drink, you’ll getthirsty after playing in the yard at school or you’ll get hiccups after you nish your lunch,’ says Mak.Ah! Ah!I check over again all of the things that Mak has got ready for me. Newthings always smell so good. Mak helps me to tidy them up.‘Willa, please take good care of all these things. ese are presents fromNyonya Chang. I don’t have the money to buy all of these, as the moneyyour father is sending from Jakarta hasn’t arrived yet.’
Oh.‘Your school fees have been paid by Nyonya Chang.’Oh. Ohhh.‘Starting from tomorrow, you’ll go to school. Please study hard. Please bekind when you’re at school. Let’s show Nyonya Chang that you haven’ttaken any of this for granted. It is precious. Do you get what I’m saying,Willa?’ asks Mak.I quickly nod my head. It’s a promise. I will study well. I will study hard.I’m not going to cause any trouble. I’m not going to cry at school. Ipromise. at night, I can only eat the tiniest of amounts at dinner. My tummy feelsso full. Normally, I then feel all sleepy. But not tonight. I help Mak lay outall the things I’m going to wear and take tomorrow.‘What exactly does school look like, Mak?’‘You’ll see for yourself tomorrow, Willa,’ says Mak.‘And who will I meet tomorrow, Mak?’Mak smiles broadly. ‘Your classmates. You’ll be in kindergarten. And thenyou’ll meet the teacher.’‘ e teacher? What’s her name?’‘Ibu Tini.’‘Is she pretty?’‘Yes.’‘Clever?’‘Absolutely.’‘Does she know the alphabet?’
‘Of course! She’ll help you learn more quickly. And you’ll learn so much,because your teacher has so many children’s books.’‘More books than we have in this house?’‘Yes! e teacher has a special room where she keeps the books. All thepupils can read in there. It’s called the library.’‘Libra…’‘…ry.’‘I love the li-bra-ry.’‘I think you will.’‘Can I read lots of books at the li-bra-ry, Mak?’‘As many as you like.’‘I really love the li-bra-ry then.’‘Very good.’‘Can I stay in the li-bra-ry all the time, Mak?’‘Hmm, I’m afraid not. You have to stay in the classroom. at’s where youlearn lessons with your friends and with the teacher.’‘Lessons?’‘Yes! Lessons where you learn to write and draw and cut and stick andsing…’‘I can sing songs already. Oh oh Hestiiii… why you look just like her!’‘ at is not a song for children, Willa. You’d better not sing that at school,OK?’‘You mean the teacher doesn’t like Hesti?’‘Well, she might do, but if you’re at school please only sing children’ssongs.’‘What if they’re not very good?’‘Of course they’ll be good. And you have to sing them.’‘I’ve got a feeling they’re not going to be all that good…’‘Willa, stop it! Let’s just see. Right now you need to get to sleep so youwon’t be late tomorrow morning,’ says Mak.Oh! How am I supposed to get to sleep now. I can’t wait to go to school.‘Hush, give your feet a wash, brush your teeth, wash your face and changeinto your pyjamas. en come into my room.’I am jumping about so happily. I love sleeping next to Mak. Because I’llget to hear a story in bed. And a song. And I can touch Mak’s lovely softarms.
Ibu TiniI wake up earlier than Mak this morning. She’s surprised to see me sittingup at the corner of the bed.‘Willa, it’s too early!’ she says, looking at the clock.Mak jumps out of bed and goes straight to the kitchen. Mbok has wokenup already. She’s boiled hot water and got the tea ready. Now she’s preparingthe rice that was left over last night. She’s going to use it to make nasigoreng.1‘For me?’Mak nods.Mbok boils some more water so I can have a hot shower.‘Take your clothes and bring them to the bathroom. A pupil should beable to get everything ready on their own,’ says Mak.I do just as she says. e water boils quickly and Mbok puts it in a bucketalong with some cold water. I have my shower and use the chocolate soapwith the bee drawn on it. It smells lovely. After my shower, I dress, brushmy hair, have a glass of Laughing Cow milk, put on socks and shoes, checkI have my water bottle and lunch box (with nasi goreng and a crispy friedegg), and I use a rubber band to attach a spoon to my lunch box.I’m ready to go. I ride on the bike with Mak, sitting on the special rack bythe handlebars. My mouth feels all fresh as the wind rushes in.‘Your school is nearby – just ve alleys from here. Today we’re going bybike so we get there faster. And who knows if I have to see the headteacheror your classroom teacher. Tomorrow we can just walk.’Sure! Mak stops her bike in front of a big rusty metal fence that is wideopen. I get down off the bike. We pass the fence and see all these big kidsyelling, running, laughing. I see a big building across the playground withlots of doors and windows. is is my school. Which is my class?Mak parks her bike in the corner of the playground. And then we walk tothat big building. Mak holds my hand and takes me to a room in the corner,
the smallest one. Inside is a woman who is pretty old, but not as old asNyonya Chang or Mbok. She sits on a chair behind a table that is coveredwith batik2 cloth. On the table are all sorts of papers and books stacked upin a big pile.Mak says ‘good morning’ and the lady asks us to sit down. She asks if I’llbe coming to school today. Mak says yes and I smile a big smile, sitting verystill and quiet with my hands folded. e lady says, ‘I’m Ibu Hermin. I’m the headteacher. From today, you maycome and learn in our school. In a moment your teacher, Ibu Tini, willcome and then you can follow her to your classroom.’I quickly nod my head. My heart is beating so fast. I listen to Mak who isstill talking to the headteacher – who is wearing a green kebaya3 and abrown sarung. Her glasses are quite thick, and the shape of upside-downtriangles.I keep watching the door until a thin tall woman wearing a owery skirtenters the room. Her shirt is blue and her hair is in a ponytail.She walks up to us and the headteacher looks at her. ‘Ah, this is Ibu Tini.Willa, please say hello to Ibu Tini.’So this is Ibu Tini. She’s nodding at the headteacher and at Mak. Andshe’s looking at me. I remember to smile. But Ibu Tini doesn’t smile. Shejust looks at me. For long time. I stop smiling. Suddenly I want to go home.‘Willa, I’m going home now, OK? See you later!’ Mak gets up, kisses mycheek, shakes hands with the headteacher and Ibu Tini, and leaves theoffice.I don’t want to follow Ibu Tini Who Doesn’t Smile.I want to go home, Mak.But Mak is already riding her bike far far away.
Notes1nasi goreng – fried rice2 batik – a traditional Indonesian way of decorating cloth, where complex designs are drawn ontocloth with melted wax and then the cloth is dipped in dye. e parts of the cloth which were drawnon with wax don’t absorb the dye, so when the wax comes off you have a pattern.3 kebaya – a long tted blouse
In the classroomIbu Tini walks so fast.I run behind her. We pass one classroom, two classrooms, threeclassrooms, four classrooms. I try to peer into each room as we pass. But Ican’t see all that much because I have to run to keep up with Ibu Tini, whois already far ahead. At the end of the corridor, we stop in front of aclassroom. Even from a distance, we can hear how noisy this room is.I want to go in, but Ibu Tini just stands silently in front of the classroomdoor. So I stand next to her. en she turns to me and her mouth shrinks asshe purses her lips together.I really want to go home now. But how can I? en I hear Ibu Tini say, ‘Come on then, in you go! And don’t be naughty,I don’t like naughty children.’I nod my head. I know what naughty children are like.I’m not a naughty child.I’m not.Ibu Tini pushes me into the classroom. e noisy room immediately fallssilent. Everyone in the class is looking at Ibu Tini. Hold on. No. ey’renot looking at her. ey’re looking at me. ey look at me in astonishment.Some pupils even have their mouths hanging open.Why are they so shocked? I look down at my uniform, my shoes, my bag,my lunch box and my bottle of water. Is there something wrong with me? e ribbon is still tied in my hair. But they are still staring at me inamazement. I don’t like it. I stare at them one by one. en they startlooking down or turning their heads away.OK well, that’s something.Ibu Tini announces my name: ‘Na Willa’.Suddenly all the other children start laughing. ey laugh like mad. IbuTini laughs too. What’s so funny now? What on earth are they nding sohilarious? What are you laughing at? I do not like it.
I stamp my foot. Ibu Tini looks shocked. She stops laughing and hereyebrows wrinkle into one eyebrow in a perfectly straight line. Her lips areall pursed in the middle again. I look straight into her eyes. I don’t like thatshe laughed at my name. We look at one another and then she pretends tobe looking at the classroom door and she yells, ‘Quiet, everyone!’ e children all stop laughing, bit by bit.‘Starting from today, our new classmate is going to be learning with you.And she will sit…’Ibu Tini is looking around the class. en her eyes stop at a chair in themiddle of the classroom. A little boy is sitting there. His hair stands on endlike a toilet brush. His eyes look tired. He has a runny nose.‘Next to Bayu.’ e boy with the runny nose is called Bayu. Ibu Tini pushes me towardsthe third chair from the front, second from the door. In front of Bayu,there’s a small boy with curly hair. Behind Bayu, two girls. One has a fringeand one has her hair tied back. ey both stick their tongues out. So I dothe same: weeeee! All the children are still staring at me. What’s wrong? Ikeep checking my uniform and my shoes. Everything is normal, just like itwas before. Nothing’s changed.‘Na Willa, sit down.’I hear Ibu Tini give me this order and I obey. e wooden chair is so highup, my feet dangle off the edge. I hang my bag lled with my food, waterand pencils on the back of the chair.Ibu Tini tells me that today we’re going to learn to write. She takes out astack of books, calling our names, and one by one my new classmates goforward and take a book. I wait. All of the books are handed out. My namehasn’t been called. Everyone gets out their pencils. ey’re ready to startwriting things down, but their eyes are still on me. ere are no books left on Ibu Tini’s table. I have a look inside my bag.Who knows, maybe Mak already put one of those books in my bag?Nothing. Only a pencil, a rubber, and a lunch box full of nasi goreng. Yes, Iremember: last night Mak told me that I’d be given a book at school. So Ijust need to ask Ibu Tini for one.‘What’s wrong?’ she asks me in a loud voice.Her eyebrows are still all joined up crossly. I tell her that I don’t have abook. She takes a deep breath (which means we can see the little hairs
coming out of her nose) and then she says: ‘You’re new here. You don’t havea book yet. Just sit in your place. Watch how your friends are writing. Iassume you can’t write yet, yes?’‘Oh, actually I can write the alphabet.’Ibu Tini laughs. ‘Sure, sure, sure… So maybe you can write but you stillcan’t read yet, right?’ en she gestures for me to go back to my chair. I stay standing next toher desk.I say, ‘I really can write.’‘Children can’t write before they go to school. You can’t either. Sit down.Now.’ She says in a voice that is a lot louder than mine. I am still standingthere, holding onto the corner of her desk.‘But I can!’ I say.‘Are you arguing with me?’ Ibu Tini stands up sharply. Her eyes havesuddenly become completely black. And enormous. We can see all of herteeth. She has a lling in one of her molars. I hear all my classmates gasp. Ido too. Ibu Tini is getting so angry. But why? I only said that I can write.I can also read, but I haven’t told her that yet.Should I just say nothing? But I can read and write! Ibu Tini points to mychair.‘Go back over there immediately or I will punish you!’Punished! Punished? I stamp my foot. I don’t want to get punished. I can’tbe punished. I didn’t do anything wrong. I just said I can write. I am stillstanding by her table. Ibu Tini gets out from behind her desk and startspushing me back towards my chair. I want to stay where I am but then IbuTini properly pushes me. My feet start to move. And then with one grab,she picks me up and shoves me onto the wooden chair.I’m really upset. I sit back on my chair and fold my arms. I don’t want todo anything today. Bayu (the one with all the snot that is now runningdown onto his lips) is looking at me. Why does he keep on looking at me?What is so strange about me?
I kick him. I don’t like being stared at like this. Bayu kicks me right back.It really hurts! I kick him back again. He tries to respond but I lift my legsup in the air so he bashes his foot on the chair leg. He yelps with pain. Hisface looks so horrible. I can’t bear to look at him and I laugh out loud.Suddenly I feel my plaits being pulled. It’s the two girls who were stickingtheir tongues out. I turn back and stare at them. My hands are all ready toattack: I grab the ponytail of one of the girls and the fringe of the other. Igive both of them a really hard tug and the girls start screaming like mad.Suddenly my ears hurt. Ibu Tini is twisting them round and round in herhands. She pulls me up by my hair, and then suddenly lets go. I almost falloff my chair. But my feet nd the ground and, as I stand up, I stamp myfoot. But under that foot of mine is… Ibu Tini’s foot. So now she’s yelping.Her hands are ailing about in the air, trying to grab me. I spring out ofmy chair, just as her hands reach out across the back of the chair. She’sscreaming. And then she calls my name. Really really loudly.‘NA WILLA. Get here now. How DARE you? Oh I’m going to punishyou! Here! Come HERE!’ en she races to the front of the class andquickly opens a cupboard. I wait next to the blackboard. What is going tocome out of that cupboard, I wonder? After a moment, she appears with acane in her hand. Ah, I get it: a cane. A cane.
I jump up and sprint to the door. I’m leaving. I’m running away. Ibu Tiniis screaming. I can hear her footsteps behind me. She’s trying to catch mebut I run so fast. I run past all the classrooms and the fence… On and on Irun. I see the main street and realise that Ibu Tini has stopped followingme. I stop running. I see a road sign and realise I’m not so far from myhouse. I carry on walking.I’m going home.
Quitting schoolI get home. Mak isn’t there. Maybe she’s at the market. But Mbok is there.She’s been sweeping the garden and is standing by the fence. When she seesme coming, she cries out in a big panic: ‘Oh sweet child! Whatever’shappened to you, Willa?’I keep running, avoiding her outstretched arms. I kick at things as I makemy way to the bathroom. My shoes come off one by one. I take off my socksand my uniform. en I go into my room and throw myself on the bed.Mbok is following me. She stands next to the door, holding onto thecurtain. Her eyes grow wide. ‘Your hair, your clothes… Whatever will Maksays if she sees you like this?’ she says.Mak! Yes, what would she say. at means I have to change my clothes.I get up from the bed and head to the wardrobe in the middle room(where the swing is). But it’s too late, Mak is already home. I can tell fromthe sound of her voice that she’s in the living room.‘What’s happened, Mbok? What’s with all the noise this morning?’I hurry to get behind the wardrobe. From there I can hear the click ofMak’s shoes: tak-tik-tok. en I hear Mbok’s voice. ‘It’s Noni! Noni!’‘What’s happened to her? Has she fallen over? Is she hurt?’‘No, no…’‘ en what are you crying about?’‘I think she got in a ght with someone! Her hair! Her clothes!’‘What? She got in a ght? Who with? Is she hurt? Where is she?’I can hear Mak’s voice. It’s getting closer. Louder. Closer.‘She’s in her room.’ And as Mbok says that, I’ve almost got to thewardrobe. But then Mak is in front of me. We crash into each other and Ifall down, landing on my bottom. Mak is standing there. Her eyes widen asshe sees that I’m in my vest and pants.I get up fast. I can tell from Mak’s eyes that she’s not happy. Maybe she’sabout to pinch me.
‘Quickly change into some clothes and tell me what happened at school,’says Mak.Her voice is soft. But it’s at. Like a drain. It doesn’t sound like the voiceshe uses to read books to me. My knees feel all wobbly and my hands aresweaty. I drop the shirt that I’d just got. is is awful.‘Willa, hurry up!’ Mak is tapping the wicker chair, while I get readybehind the door. ‘How come you’re back so soon from school?’I look into Mak’s eyes. My throat feels dry.‘Mbok said you got in a ght. Who with?’Now Mak has her arms folded. Her face is really close to mine. No smiles.‘Willa, please speak up,’ she says again.Her voice makes me want to jump over the chair and race off down theroad. But I can’t. I have to speak. I have to tell her. So I explain everythingthat happened at school. I am pretty certain that it won’t be long until Makstarts pinching me.
I close my eyes.‘Willa, is this true?’I open my eyes when she asks me this. Her arms are still folded.I nod. ‘It’s true. Ibu Tini twisted my ears.’‘But you trod on her shoes!’‘She wouldn’t believe that I can read, Mak!’‘And you pulled someone’s hair!’‘But only because they did it to me rst!’‘We don’t do things out of revenge, Willa! at way things never end. Youhave to tell Ibu Tini about what this other person did.’‘I don’t like Ibu Tini. And I don’t think she likes me either.’‘Ahhhg, Willa! Teachers are good.’
‘ ey aren’t! Ibu Tini is horrible.’‘It’s because you kicked your classmate.’‘But that was because he was staring at me and laughing at me!’‘Maybe he wanted to make you laugh?’‘No! His face was… I didn’t like looking at his face!’And I imitate what Bayu was like. Suddenly Mak starts laughing. She isreally laughing hard. I laugh too.‘What’s going to happen, Mak?’ At last I dare to ask her this as she stopslaughing.‘If he had a face like that, I’d kick him too!’ she says, actually not quite ableto stop laughing. ‘But Willa – kicking, punching and pulling the hair ofyour friends… It’s all wrong. And stepping on your teacher’s feet is…Ahhhg…! I’m afraid I have to punish you,’ says Mak, when she FINALLYstops laughing.Punishment? Haven’t I already been punished? I’ve already been pulled bymy hair and had my ears twisted… and now I have to be punished! I am fedup! I’m just going to cry!‘Willa!’ Mak is yelling.‘Shut up!’ I yell back.Mbok suddenly appears from behind the curtain. She’s just seeing what’sgoing on. Only for a moment. en she goes back to the kitchen.I roar. I am roaring like a wild thing.‘Willa – one!’ Mak starts counting.I’m still crying.‘Willa – two!’I keep crying.‘Willa, if you don’t stop crying, I’m going to pinch you.’What? She’s going to pinch me if I don’t stop crying. So I need to stopmaking a noise and stop my tears. Stop! Stop! I have to stop crying.Mak takes a deep breath.‘Willa, listen… Everything you did was wrong. But I need to talk to IbuTini at school. You wait at home. When I come home, I’ll tell you whatpunishment you’re going to get.’Mak gets up and looks for her shoes. She is almost running and grabs herbike which is leaning behind the pine tree. Mbok tries to catch up with her,maybe to ask her something. But it’s too late. Mak has gone.
So I wait at home. It feels like a long long time. I look around for a storybook that I haven’t read yet. Mak gets home just as I’m eating my lunch inthe kitchen.Before she went out, Mak’s hair was in a two plaits. She had one at the topof her right ear and one at the top of her left ear, and the hair was kept neatwith a black hairgrip above each ear. Now, as she stands in the doorway, theplaits are gone. e hair by her left ear and right is all loose. Not neatanymore. And her face is sweating. And her eyebrows… Well, her eyebrowsare all joined up – with the middle really low and the bits at the end reallyhigh.Mak is really furious.I get up straightaway.She’s going to pinch me!What should I do. Is it better to start crying now or to wait until sheactually pinches me? I’m confused. Mak beckons me to come nearer. Is thepinching about to start?I decide it’s probably better to just cry. Loudly. Or is it better to wait till Iget pinched? So that Mak knows I’m in pain. Or…Mak tells me to sit in the wicker chair. What did I tell you! I should havestarted crying. And now it’s too late. Too late! Mak takes a deep breath andcrouches down in front of me. She touches my knee and says, ‘You won’t begoing back to that school tomorrow. We will look for a new school.’I jump up from my chair. Ahhhh! Is this real? I am so happy! So so happy.‘So, I don’t have to see Ibu Tini again?’‘No. Unless you like her, in which case I would let you see her,’ Mak saysand she is smiling.Our faces are really close to one another.I can see that Mak’s nose is full of little pores.‘Which school, Mak?’‘We’ll nd one.’‘When, Mak?’‘Today. You come with me!’ says Mak.I quickly change my clothes and we set off to look for a school for me. Wego by bike. I sit at the front of the bike, near the handlebars. e bikezooms down the main street. I can hear Mak singing. I know the song:
When the lamps are lit on the ship, e sailors play on the boat...I forget to ask Mak what happened with Ibu Tini. Maybe I’ll ask hertonight. Before we go to sleep.
e searchWe ride the bike to lots and lots of schools. All of them have bigplaygrounds with children running about in them. ey are so noisy.Whenever the bike gets anywhere near this sort of school, I turn to look atMak. She doesn’t turn to look at those schools. She just looks straightahead. And keeps on singing. I sing along with her too.I sing louder than Mak. e bike really zooms along. e wind whooshes across my face.A few times, I sing even louder and beat the wind that’s whistling aroundus and trying to get into my mouth.I can’t remember anymore how long we must have been riding along thisbig road. ere are cars, becaks, bicycles, trams. en Mak turns the bikeand starts going down these really quiet streets. e bike isn’t going asquickly any longer. We pass a school and the bike gets slower and slower.‘What sort of school is this?’ says Mak. I read out the words on the sign:Taman Kanak-Kanak Putra Sejati - Putra Sejati Kindergarten. Mak crosslymutters something or other – I don’t know what. e bike moves on again.‘Why don’t we stop there, Mak?’ I ask.Honestly, I’d be pretty pleased if Mak stopped there: there’s a see-sawinstead of a swing in the playground (I already have a swing, remember?).‘We’ll look at some other ones rst. I don’t like its name very much.’‘Why’s that, Mak?’‘Putra Sejati.’‘What does that mean, Mak?’‘Putra means boys. Sejati means true.’‘But what about the girls?’‘Exactly. Where are the putri – the girls? I’m not sure if they take girls aspupils.’
After ‘Putra Sejati’ we don’t see any more kindergartens. Until we reach akind of turning and the bike slows down again. Mak must have seensomething. I look around. And yes, to the right of the road, behind a tallthin plant covered in owers, there is a small sign that says:TK JUWITA‘What does juwita mean, Mak?’‘Beautiful,’ says Mak. I can feel her chin touching the top of my head.Mak always does that when she says the word ‘beautiful’.‘So we’ll stop here then, Mak?’ I ask, as the bike turns into the gate.Mak nods. I get down off the bike so Mak can push it, and the three of us(me, Mak and the bike), go into the garden of TK JUWITA.So the garden isn’t actually that big. But it has a see-saw as well as swings.And there aren’t lots of classrooms. Just one, with big windows. On theglass of these windows are stuck all these colourful bits of paper in theshape of sh, birds, owers, butter ies, cats, dogs, boats, bikes, moons,stars… I point them out to Mak. She nods with a big smile.‘It’s beautiful, right?’‘Who made them, Mak?’‘I would imagine your new classmates and teacher.’
‘If I go here, can I make them too?’‘I would think so,’ says Mak as she locks up the bike. Mak then takes myhand and we walk up to a wooden door painted yellow, red, and blue. Iwant to have a door like this! Later I’m going to remind Mak about it. Whoknows, maybe she likes it too (all our doors are painted white with darkblue edges).We arrive inside and a voice calls: ‘Come, come… Do come in! Come onin, little one – this way!’Mak and I look at one another. Mak is smiling. A huge smile. Hereyebrows are raised (in a good way). I feel happy to hear that voice callingus. e lady with that voice sounds like she has a good, big heart. is I believe.
JuwitaMak and I go into the classroom.And waiting there is a lady who is as tall as Mak. I think maybe she’saround the same age as Mak. Her clothes look like Mak’s – she’s wearing abig owery skirt. But she has a different hairstyle: her hair is in a bun.When she sees us, she smiles at us really prettily. She holds out her handsand shakes hands with Mak. en with me too. She says that her name is‘Juwita’.A ha! Mak and me look at the sign again. e lady looks at us then laughs, ‘ at’s right, the kindergarten has myname.’And then she says, ‘Now, how can I help you?’ and invites Mak to sitdown on a chair. In front of us, there’s a small table – a coffee table – and ithas a mat made of paper with little holes cut in it, just like lace. In thecorner of the mat, it has owers and leaves drawn on it. I’ve never seen amat like this. It’s so lovely. I think maybe Mak needs one of these at home.I sit next to Mak. And from here I can see the hair of Ibu Juwita moreclearly. Her hair is in a little bun that is pierced with a hair decoration thatis round and black with little holes in the shape of owers. is is the rsttime I’ve seen hair done like this. If Mak’s hair was longer, maybe she couldmake it look like this.
Mak starts talking to Ibu Juwita, telling her all about me and how I’mready to go to school. Ibu Juwita nods then smiles at me.‘What’s your name?’ she asks me in Indonesian.1I look at Mak, who is looking at me too. Mak gives me a little sign that Ishould reply.‘Na Willa,’ I say, as I stare at Ibu Juwita’s mouth. Will she laugh like IbuTini? I wait. And wait. OK, so she doesn’t laugh. Her eyes open really wideand then she smiles warmly.She says, ‘Wow, I’ve never heard a name like that. It’s beautiful!’I feel myself sit up tall.Ahhh, Ibu Juwita said my name is beautiful! Mak and I are looking at oneanother. Mak smiles. Me too. I’m feeling so happy to be here. Mak thenasks about school fees – when to pay, when I can start attending. Ibu Juwitaanswers all of her questions as though she is singing.From all of her answers, I just remember one: Na Willa can start schoolwhenever she wants.How about tomorrow?
I want to start tomorrow. Or how about… I start to whisper to Mak:‘Now?’ I ask in a tiny voice.But it wasn’t too tiny for Ibu Juwita to hear it.‘Now,’ she says, ‘classes have nished. But if you want, you can go andhave a look in the classroom. You can have a little sit down in the chairs? Orhave a look at the toys inside the big boxes next to the cupboards.’I can’t breathe!Mak knows that I really want to do all of this. She touches my hand.‘Yes you may go. Have a little look…’I leap up and go straight into the classroom that Ibu Juwita pointed at.I feel like…I really really want to stay here.Notes1 Na Willa and her mother speak to each other in Javanese at home
e rst morning (1)I’ve already woken up.Mak isn’t awake yet. But that’s OK.I open the curtains, get out of bed and step carefully into the kitchen.Maybe Mbok has already started cooking something. Oh! e kitchen isstill dark.Humph. Why are Mak and Mbok still sleeping? I’m worried they’veforgotten that I’m meant to be going to school today. I’d better have ashower straightaway so I can eat some nasi goreng and omelette… or plainrice and a fried egg, sunny side up.Having some milk sh would be pretty great too.Unfortunately, I ate up all their eyes yesterday.And anyway, the skin won’t be as crunchy as it was yesterday, straight afterit was fried. I hate eating tethel1that’s been made by Mbok the nightbefore. Ahhh, so what will it be for breakfast?Oh, I see: it’s just white rice and krupuk.2I stand on a chair. I pull the krupuk box towards me and try and get the lidoff. e lid is really tricky to take off. I pull it harder still but it just won’topen. I try one more time…Suddenly… Glontrang-tang-tang-taaaaang: the lid of the krupuk box is ying through the air, and the box and crackers are ying everywhere aswell.‘Who’s there?’ It’s Mak’s voice.She’s standing in the kitchen. Her hair is standing up on end and blowingabout like owers. Her eyes are very wide and round. Her mouth is too.Wait, wait, Mak… Please don’t raise your eyebrows.‘I… I… I wanted to have krupuk for breakfast, Mak. I was trying to getthe lid off and…’‘Breakfast?’‘I’m getting ready, Mak…’‘Oh yes, today you’re going to school.’
Mak does remember.‘What if we’re late?’‘We’re not going to be late – school starts later. Let’s go back to sleep,’ saysMak as she helps me pick up the krupuk that are all over the oor.‘I’ll get my pencils ready and polish my shoes, Mak…’‘Hmmm. Last night we packed your pencils, notebook and drawing book.And your shoes are already polished.’‘OK, then I’ll have a shower now.’‘Willa – wait, wait, wait. It’s three o’clock in the morning! Do you seeoutside? It’s still dark. And still quiet. Your little yellow chick is stillsleeping. Later, when it’s the right time, I’ll wake you up, OK? Now let’s goback to bed,’ says Mak.Her hands are patting my head.‘So we’re going to sleep again?’Ahhhg, can I get to sleep again? I’m really not feeling very tired.‘Yes, and we’ll all wake up in three hours.’‘ ree hours is a long time, Mak.’