The soldier and housewife, looking at each other in a very solemn manner, began explaining their dreams, their hopes and their personal feelings about the future and showed the three minor children a book for us to read and learn how to speak English. The rest was to become the most significant event in their lives as they remember packing their personal belongings into six suitcases and heading for the airport in Amsterdam to head on a KLM flight to the Americas hoping to land and feast on the new dream of living in a free and opportunistic country where persecution or religious beliefs are respected, where opportunity to live and grow healthy were provided and where children, no matter what age can advance both educationally and socially without the traditional boundaries of socialism where the existence of a commune environment denied such goals or motives.
Our new home was situation in the south end neighborhood, situated in the low income of Columbus Ohio. Arriving in America in the late fifties, the biggest change for us was the American culture of food, clothing and music. The extra luxury of having both a telephone and a television was much appreciated and told well of our father and mother’s yearn to educate us to the fullest extend of their possibilities. Soon after arriving in Ohio, a late arrival came into the family and the clan expanded to five. A baby sister would come into this world safe and sound with lots of love and attention provided by her siblings. Each of these changes appeared to be a direct opposite of the culture we had left behind and it was a refreshing feeling for all of us that benefited from the social environment. School was a pleasant place to go for me. I would go to school every day of the year if I could; it was a sanctuary from all the negative things I had experienced in my life so far. Although not very fluent in speaking English, I managed to cope as did my older sister and younger brother who seemed to adjust better than me as his personality was more outgoing than both my sister and me.
Speaking with broken English and apprehending the culture quickly, I gathered a circle of friends that wanted to spend additional time with me and tutor me in the language barrier that existed. Two girls in particular, I remember, raised their hands high in the air when the fourth grade teacher asked for volunteers to sit down with me and help me with the hard words as I learned to put them in sentences and comprehend their meaning as well. Spending my time reading and writing worlds provided by my tutors, I couldn’t help but notice they both smelled really nice and their hands were soft and smooth. One with blonde hair and the other with brown, I felt like a king sitting between these two beauty queens as they dedicated most of their own time teaching me how to speak, read and write the English language at the age of eleven. Elementary school was over and done with before I knew it. Those girls who gave me all that attention moved on and I am sure charmed some other guy off his feet as they were both very pretty and smart to boot. Recess in school often provided a time to meet new friends and as time passed on I developed new friendships with some of the same who lived nearby and also those who lived down the road where the racial boundaries of the city divided the black from the white houses. Living on the white side was not always a peaceful event as it was just as rough on this side struggling with those who roamed the school yards looking to pick a fight with weaker and smaller than them. I recall those hot summer days when we all gathered, black and white, in our shorts and tee shirts with towels draped over our shoulders as we trekked our way to the community swimming pool five miles down the road in another part of town we had heard it was the bigger and better than the smaller one we had near our neighborhood. Sweating and exhausted from walking the trip in the middle of the July summer, we were ready to line up and jump into the pool when were abruptly halted by two white tall and muscular life guards as they told my brother, my black friends and I in a very calm and stern voice, we could not enter the pool as we were “too dark” for the rules.
Looking in shock and dismay at my white friends, I turned around but not without saying something that was obscene or derogatory as I was not only embarrassed but really brought down to the reality that here, on this earth, at any given moment, the color of your skin can reject or allow you entry into a public pool or any other place if they chose to deny you your rights of equality under the social cultural standards of the neighborhood. Sports became my favorite pastime and as I developed myself into an athletic type of persona, I realized my physical prowess allowed me to be a terrorist on the school yard, if I wanted to be thus I chose to be careful of how I was perceived as a bully or a friend. On several occasion, I needed to intervene in situations where others, stronger and bigger than they ones they picked on had to be put back into check by me as they chose to pick on my friend or friends during their reign of terror on the playground.
Thinking of me as a peace maker, in reality it was turning out I was being perceived to be an enforcer. It became a common consensus I represented the rights of those smaller or weaker and protect them from the bullies that roamed the playgrounds; often going unnoticed by the teachers who were suppose to be supervising us during recess or lunch time. A reputation is a terrible thing when you lose control of this label because as I was about to find out, my reputation to defend evil and the weak quickly elevated me to the level of being a target for others to challenge and determine whether or not they could beat me in a fight or wrestling match which to my surprise, came way to often as I reached my later years as a teenager in junior high school and as an athlete on the track and football squad in high school. Wanting to be more free spirited and independent, my thoughts of going to school wavered from time to time and caused me to begin taking it more lightly than I should have. Grades dropped and my presence on the football team was hinged on the ability to bounce back and get my grades back where the coach would be able to keep me playing. Seeking help by looking for a tutor, I found a girl who was both smart and pretty but who already had a boyfriend who was extremely jealous of the fact she wanted to tutor me and get my grades back up to where they were suppose to be.
There were times when I felt tension as she was slightly distracted at times during our meetings and finally told me to find somebody else to teach me math and algebra as those were the two subjects I really had trouble with in class. Reaching sixteen, I became the family chauffeur as the formerly retired soldier, my father, had sought new employment and worked in an insurance warehouse where all things burned or salvaged in an industrial fire would be stored, cleaned and resold to bidders. Getting up early in the morning, I took my father to work and turned around quickly to return home and pick up my mother who had taken job as an accountant at another insurance place downtown Columbus. Having only one car in the family, I was placed with the responsibility to ferry both parents to and from work so I could go to school in between the runs and park the car at the school parking lot. Needless to say, a sixteen year old teenager with a car in the sixties was a rare sight and to say the car was a chick magnet would be an understatement. The white ’59 Chevy Impala was a high profile device often the interest of the local police as it was known to be a fast cruiser and often seen smoking tires on the street and school parking lots. Radio blasting and an eight track of the Beach Boys in the car player, I was a king of the road for many to envy as I took this opportunity to brag and show off as much as I could with my friends and giving rides to all the girls who expressed a wish to ride to the burger joint during lunch time or sometimes we would cut school and go joy riding out of town.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Holland, the Low Land
Unloading the crates from the vessel was a time consuming task that lasted for over a day with us sitting on the dock waiting to move on with the luggage and hoping we had a warm place to sleep tonight that was free of rodents and water puddles. Weary, foul smelling and wearing week old clothes, the journey had landed us in the city of Haarlem, Netherlands, a small city ten miles from the capital of the country, Amsterdam. A blissful released sigh came over the two adults as they sighted a familiar face approaching them on the dock and as they engaged into a private conversation, the three minors knew the trek had come to an end and it was time to settle in a new setting surrounded by fresh water, stacked high apartments made of brick and windmills in the distance moving with the wind as it generates the power to drain the land and flatten or grind the corn into a powdery substance used for food for both men and animals.
Holland, the windmill world, is a flat piece of real estate once owned and conquered by the French, Spanish, Portuguese and many other foreign powers between the 10th and 16th century. It finally became a kingdom in 1865 and rose to become one of the world’s top economic and maritime power dominating in wealth and power. Better known as the Netherland today, it became home for the immigrants exiled from their island domain and left ashore a new and strange land with little or few relatives to contact or seek support from during their initial stages of homesteading this new segment of their lives. A soldier by profession, the father reported to his new assignment and endured the change well. His thin cotton blended tropical uniforms traded in for the wool and thickened stiff uniforms worn in this wind driven land with sub zero temperatures that last for months and created canals of ice covered trail ways, his only method of getting to work was on a bicycle he had bought upon arrival from a neighbor who had put it up for sale. Speaking seldom of his days as a prisoner of war, he was a quiet man who spoke very seldom with a voice which contained compassion or warmth. I guess being a prisoner for so long made his skin a little tougher than most as he did what he needed to do to survive on a bowl of rice a day and a handful of sparsely gathered vegetable. Still a bullet lodged in his leg from the war that would end all world wars, he never complained but it was no surprise in his latter years, he was watching the history channel, reflecting back to the Second World War events. The mother, an educated scholar with no preferred occupation, remained in the compact but warm apartment not too far from where the soldier worked. She kept the place clean as she assumed the new role of the housewife as she was never placed in such a position before as she came from a system where the caste levels dictated the role of servants for those who were wealthy or able to afford to pay for such services as maids, housekeeper or landscaper. Struggling to meet the new challenge of housekeeping and cooking for the clan, she began to take interest of new recipes as she learned how to cook the traditional meals served in our native land as well as the Dutch customs and favorites. A new addition to the staple was the potato and a few other produce that were rare and expensive on the islands from where she came. Sticking to her traditional Asian cooking, she mixed the meals up so we had a treat every now and then. Time passed and the soldier was relocated to another city where the government seat was and his role would be more important than once before. This resulted in our packing up our belongings as saying good bye to our new found friends and neighbors as the good fortune has allowed us to become a lot more self-sustained and grow as new family members as well as some of the old found a means to gather and collectively share their wealth and fortune as much as the opportunity permitted. The housewife’s father, once a rich and wealthy man, was stripped of his wealth he had so hastily liquidated and passed out this insurmountable amount of cash to his trusted both friends and family members before they boarded the ship with an oath or promise they would arrange to meet again and return the money to him upon arrival; hence, given the fact they carried a significant sum of cash, they disappeared into the new setting not leaving a word of concern behind. The growing up years were good as new friends and new family members created a circle of trust and as we enjoyed the stability our world gave us, we recognized the fact we were still better off than some other families as the soldier, our father, had been a solid provider and it was his guarantee there would be food and clothing, warmth and shelter for his family as long as he could provide for them the good things in life.
Needles to say, especially during the winter months, wrapped up with his shawl around his face and ears, he fought the wind and icy road surfaces as he struggled daily to ride back and forth to his job on that bicycle that had a most distinct bell ringer on it. Thinking this would be our final resting place, we attended the local schools and found friends whom we fraternized with before and after school as the community was both ethically and socially developed with refugees from Indonesia and other areas of the world where the Dutch colonial systems had failed and resulted in excommunication to their home country of citizenship.
Socialism is the staple of the Dutch society. The schools and government functions dominate every detail in your personal life. The markets are socially equal to all the other markets thus competition is rare and prices are high. Chicken and meat were commodities rarely enjoyed due to their expensive price as a meat and potato meal was obviously a luxury few could afford. Beans, fruits, vegetables and tofu were common and often prepped for the daily meals. Bread and milk were plentiful in this land of produce and honey. Stores rarely had sales and the selection of clothes were bland and not with much color as these dark winter months dominated the dress for cold climates rather than the warm climates experienced in those farther away from the Arctic Circle.
Swimming in the North Sea seemed extreme at times as the water was never warm and yet, the beaches were crowded every day of the week. Eating fresh herring fish cured in a salty juice, we often spend. Becoming a avid swimmer, it was a good skill to possess with all the water around those flat lands connected with numerous channels filled with boats and barges. Sensing the need to provide better opportunities for the children and wanting to improve their way of living, plans were made to travel yet to another land only this time it would be to seek freedom from the socialistic means of raising a family and better provisions for seeking a higher education and enhanced personal opportunities. This required deep thought for the father whose days as a soldier was nearing to an end with over thirty years of service to show for his success and determination to overcome all obstacles faced with so far. Late one night a family meeting took place and as the short wave radio volume was turned down and the lights flickered as the fireplace crackled with the wood brought up earlier from the basement of the apartment building, between the coals and wood, a voice spoke with all serenity and seriousness about our new plans to move to America.
Holland, the windmill world, is a flat piece of real estate once owned and conquered by the French, Spanish, Portuguese and many other foreign powers between the 10th and 16th century. It finally became a kingdom in 1865 and rose to become one of the world’s top economic and maritime power dominating in wealth and power. Better known as the Netherland today, it became home for the immigrants exiled from their island domain and left ashore a new and strange land with little or few relatives to contact or seek support from during their initial stages of homesteading this new segment of their lives. A soldier by profession, the father reported to his new assignment and endured the change well. His thin cotton blended tropical uniforms traded in for the wool and thickened stiff uniforms worn in this wind driven land with sub zero temperatures that last for months and created canals of ice covered trail ways, his only method of getting to work was on a bicycle he had bought upon arrival from a neighbor who had put it up for sale. Speaking seldom of his days as a prisoner of war, he was a quiet man who spoke very seldom with a voice which contained compassion or warmth. I guess being a prisoner for so long made his skin a little tougher than most as he did what he needed to do to survive on a bowl of rice a day and a handful of sparsely gathered vegetable. Still a bullet lodged in his leg from the war that would end all world wars, he never complained but it was no surprise in his latter years, he was watching the history channel, reflecting back to the Second World War events. The mother, an educated scholar with no preferred occupation, remained in the compact but warm apartment not too far from where the soldier worked. She kept the place clean as she assumed the new role of the housewife as she was never placed in such a position before as she came from a system where the caste levels dictated the role of servants for those who were wealthy or able to afford to pay for such services as maids, housekeeper or landscaper. Struggling to meet the new challenge of housekeeping and cooking for the clan, she began to take interest of new recipes as she learned how to cook the traditional meals served in our native land as well as the Dutch customs and favorites. A new addition to the staple was the potato and a few other produce that were rare and expensive on the islands from where she came. Sticking to her traditional Asian cooking, she mixed the meals up so we had a treat every now and then. Time passed and the soldier was relocated to another city where the government seat was and his role would be more important than once before. This resulted in our packing up our belongings as saying good bye to our new found friends and neighbors as the good fortune has allowed us to become a lot more self-sustained and grow as new family members as well as some of the old found a means to gather and collectively share their wealth and fortune as much as the opportunity permitted. The housewife’s father, once a rich and wealthy man, was stripped of his wealth he had so hastily liquidated and passed out this insurmountable amount of cash to his trusted both friends and family members before they boarded the ship with an oath or promise they would arrange to meet again and return the money to him upon arrival; hence, given the fact they carried a significant sum of cash, they disappeared into the new setting not leaving a word of concern behind. The growing up years were good as new friends and new family members created a circle of trust and as we enjoyed the stability our world gave us, we recognized the fact we were still better off than some other families as the soldier, our father, had been a solid provider and it was his guarantee there would be food and clothing, warmth and shelter for his family as long as he could provide for them the good things in life.
Needles to say, especially during the winter months, wrapped up with his shawl around his face and ears, he fought the wind and icy road surfaces as he struggled daily to ride back and forth to his job on that bicycle that had a most distinct bell ringer on it. Thinking this would be our final resting place, we attended the local schools and found friends whom we fraternized with before and after school as the community was both ethically and socially developed with refugees from Indonesia and other areas of the world where the Dutch colonial systems had failed and resulted in excommunication to their home country of citizenship.
Socialism is the staple of the Dutch society. The schools and government functions dominate every detail in your personal life. The markets are socially equal to all the other markets thus competition is rare and prices are high. Chicken and meat were commodities rarely enjoyed due to their expensive price as a meat and potato meal was obviously a luxury few could afford. Beans, fruits, vegetables and tofu were common and often prepped for the daily meals. Bread and milk were plentiful in this land of produce and honey. Stores rarely had sales and the selection of clothes were bland and not with much color as these dark winter months dominated the dress for cold climates rather than the warm climates experienced in those farther away from the Arctic Circle.
Swimming in the North Sea seemed extreme at times as the water was never warm and yet, the beaches were crowded every day of the week. Eating fresh herring fish cured in a salty juice, we often spend. Becoming a avid swimmer, it was a good skill to possess with all the water around those flat lands connected with numerous channels filled with boats and barges. Sensing the need to provide better opportunities for the children and wanting to improve their way of living, plans were made to travel yet to another land only this time it would be to seek freedom from the socialistic means of raising a family and better provisions for seeking a higher education and enhanced personal opportunities. This required deep thought for the father whose days as a soldier was nearing to an end with over thirty years of service to show for his success and determination to overcome all obstacles faced with so far. Late one night a family meeting took place and as the short wave radio volume was turned down and the lights flickered as the fireplace crackled with the wood brought up earlier from the basement of the apartment building, between the coals and wood, a voice spoke with all serenity and seriousness about our new plans to move to America.
Genesis - 1947
Born in the year of 1947 and growing up on the once colonial Dutch island of Java in the late 1950’s, one can only imagine the tropical setting of rubber trees, with habitation of snakes, reptiles and tigers. The constant hunting by tourist coming to the island, slowly resulted in the extinction of the Javan Tiger as it habitat was slowly being destroyed by humans crowding the island with small villages popping up everywhere there was an ample amount of drinking water supply that resulted in this island being the most populated island in the world with almost 60 million people living there today. Mountain peaks stretching over twelve thousand feet into the air, this land was rich in natural resources that eventually developed the city of Bandung into a municipality that developed itself into a resort city for plantation owners as luxurious hotels, cafes and European boutiques were opened dubbing the city as the Paris of Java.
Surrounded by a chain of volcanic mountains, this thirteenth largest island in the world was the home of the ToersBijns family and the Hauber family whose residence was well established by their ties to the Dutch owned East Indies Tea Company and the merchants who bought and traded goods between this land and Europe on a steady basis. The plantation was a huge white portal shaped dwelling surrounded by an ample growth of palm trees that provided shade, comfort and shelter to anyone who did business with the patrons of the Hauber clan. Dealing in real estate, produce, and other native products manufactured or grown there, their financial dealings put a lot of cash in their pockets.
On the other side of the town were the clan members of the ToersBijns family whose family members were associated with the more fundamental business function related to governmental business as well as acting as the local constables or police officers in this locale filled with foreigners and traders from all around the world. Better known as commoners, they were people of the land and lived in an average middle income mannerism that was even better than the normal conditions on this island. A grandfather who was a Chief of Police and two uncles that were local constables, the family was well respected in the community.
World War II had ravaged this country badly and the rebuilding of the economy was left into the hands of those who had the cash to do this task. It also took its toll on the ToersBijns family as their uncles were caught and them being policemen just doing their job, when executed by the Japanese soldiers who occupied the island during the Second World War as history revealed the torture and horrendous conditions the natives and occupants had to endure under this Japanese rule. The remaining brothers, one a merchant and one a soldier in the Dutch army, were fortunate to survive this ordeal and lived to raise a family.
After Indonesian independence in 1945, the city experienced a rapid development and growth as urbanization took place that transformed the little city resort into a bustling 2 million people dense metropolitan area serving many economic developers in their self serving business deals and growth in wealth. The rebuilding and resettlement of villages, industries and wealth brought corruption in the government and as the wealth of the foreign investor grew larger and larger, the newly established Republic of Indonesia issued a decree that all foreigners must leave the soil of the republic or face the consequences for remaining behind. In their struggle for independence between the years of 1945 through 1949, the Dutch military commanders gave an ultimatum all Indonesian militants had to leave the city immediately or face severe consequences. Their exodus from the city resulted in the burning inferno of over half the city. Three children had been born to the couple of Carl and Edith (Hauber) ToersBijns who had to decide how they were to deal with the daily strife of civil war and terrorist acts up and down their neighborhood and market area where they lived. This internal social revolution resulted in the end of total control of foreign intervention and as the civil war progressed, the Dutch government troops controlled the city and other large scale communities but could not control the villages and the countryside where the rebels struck their fear into the lives of everyone in the cities.
This armed conflict ended with the expulsion of all Dutch government officials and troops. During these times, the economy of Bandung’s manufacturing textile apparel business, the growing of plantation and agricultural food as well as the rapid growth of higher culturally based educational institutions spewing over to support the industrial growth resulted in a flood of protests by the Indonesian government that foreigners were taking control of their economy and that laws had to be passed to avoid loss of control of their economic growth and dependency on foreign businessmen.
Soon after the declaration of independence was announced by the Indonesian government all Dutch citizens were ordered to leave the islands and return back to their native homeland. The fragility of the Dutch government was mainly due to the fact their armed forces had been dominated by both the Japanese and Germans during the world war and its inability to bounce back to a governmental power resulted in the colonial failures resulting in the self-governed freedom sought by the natives of the land who hated the foreigners. The message was clear and everyone scrambled to gather their personal resources to meet the rest of the clan at the harbors where ships sat waiting boarding of all those scheduled to depart on these large passenger ships headed for Europe and The Netherlands. Businessmen move quickly to liquidate their assets and stuff their money inside hastily made money belts and hidden compartments. A limit on how much they were allowed to take with them on their person, smuggling rings were developed to allow the rich to secretly stash their fortune inside compartments designed for luggage or property as well as other hidden places. Bribes, promises and extortions were common place and hopes of bringing their post war wealth to their homeland were hampered by strict inspections of persons, property and other belongings. Spearheaded by social and communist insurgents, Dutch citizens were closely inspected upon departure and harassed if suspected of smuggling or other acts of dishonesty. This revolution destroyed the colonial establishments and resulted in a new journey to the mother land in Holland.
Holland was the common name for the Netherlands, a small country situated on the western shores of Europe touching the North Sea and not too far from the English Channel. The land was positioned below sea level and surrounded by man made dikes or dunes to keep the water from overtaking the surface. Once a colonial power, it was now the newly chosen habitat for the ToersBijns family who had survived a long journey aboard a dilapidated passenger ship that held a few thousand refugees who has stowed on board all their live long belongings hoping to start a new trend with what they salvaged.
The ship was smelly and filthy. It wreaked the smell of vomit and the cabins were shared with other families as some were not so fortunate to have private dwellings and shared the cargo bays with hundreds of others squatting, nudging each other in efforts to find a space large enough to stretch out. The name of the ship was unimportant but it did belong to the Royal Dutch Packet Navigation Company, a shipping company with connections to all the islands of Indonesia and sea worthy to transverse the long trek from the islands to Europe through the waters of the Indian Ocean, the straights between the dead sea and Suez canal into the Mediterranean Sea passing the Rock of Gibraltar and reaching the shores of Amsterdam in a matter of months of sea sickness and dysentery, while enduring the medieval medical treatment for those who became ill and struck with the malaria disease. Having no access to real medicine, herbal concoctions were applied to break the fever. The food was unbearable and barely edible but as the self imposed hunger was a blessing versus a full stomach swerving from side to side while the waves pounded the ship, the crew members were rude, arrogant and un-thoughtful of all our the passengers needs. A family of two adult persons clinging onto the three minor children in a wave of humanity seeking new life in another world was a terrifying experience for them especially since the unknown still faced them ahead of them. Seldom seeing any other family member during the voyage, they depended on each other to keep the minors safe and sound from perverts and misaligned individuals crowded inside this hull of a ship for months.
How many months I can’t remember but it seemed an eternity. Seeking fresh air on top was a luxury seldom enjoyed and well deserved once you weaved through the waves of humanity compacted on this vessel. Hand in hand with firm grips so not be dislocated and misplaced in this multitude of bodies, we cried often and wished to be somewhere where it was warm and dry. The humidity and smell below deck was combining an odor not easily described as stinking but rather as something stronger and what you would expect of a dead animal whose carcass has decomposed for weeks and ripe with aroma.
Surrounded by a chain of volcanic mountains, this thirteenth largest island in the world was the home of the ToersBijns family and the Hauber family whose residence was well established by their ties to the Dutch owned East Indies Tea Company and the merchants who bought and traded goods between this land and Europe on a steady basis. The plantation was a huge white portal shaped dwelling surrounded by an ample growth of palm trees that provided shade, comfort and shelter to anyone who did business with the patrons of the Hauber clan. Dealing in real estate, produce, and other native products manufactured or grown there, their financial dealings put a lot of cash in their pockets.
On the other side of the town were the clan members of the ToersBijns family whose family members were associated with the more fundamental business function related to governmental business as well as acting as the local constables or police officers in this locale filled with foreigners and traders from all around the world. Better known as commoners, they were people of the land and lived in an average middle income mannerism that was even better than the normal conditions on this island. A grandfather who was a Chief of Police and two uncles that were local constables, the family was well respected in the community.
World War II had ravaged this country badly and the rebuilding of the economy was left into the hands of those who had the cash to do this task. It also took its toll on the ToersBijns family as their uncles were caught and them being policemen just doing their job, when executed by the Japanese soldiers who occupied the island during the Second World War as history revealed the torture and horrendous conditions the natives and occupants had to endure under this Japanese rule. The remaining brothers, one a merchant and one a soldier in the Dutch army, were fortunate to survive this ordeal and lived to raise a family.
After Indonesian independence in 1945, the city experienced a rapid development and growth as urbanization took place that transformed the little city resort into a bustling 2 million people dense metropolitan area serving many economic developers in their self serving business deals and growth in wealth. The rebuilding and resettlement of villages, industries and wealth brought corruption in the government and as the wealth of the foreign investor grew larger and larger, the newly established Republic of Indonesia issued a decree that all foreigners must leave the soil of the republic or face the consequences for remaining behind. In their struggle for independence between the years of 1945 through 1949, the Dutch military commanders gave an ultimatum all Indonesian militants had to leave the city immediately or face severe consequences. Their exodus from the city resulted in the burning inferno of over half the city. Three children had been born to the couple of Carl and Edith (Hauber) ToersBijns who had to decide how they were to deal with the daily strife of civil war and terrorist acts up and down their neighborhood and market area where they lived. This internal social revolution resulted in the end of total control of foreign intervention and as the civil war progressed, the Dutch government troops controlled the city and other large scale communities but could not control the villages and the countryside where the rebels struck their fear into the lives of everyone in the cities.
This armed conflict ended with the expulsion of all Dutch government officials and troops. During these times, the economy of Bandung’s manufacturing textile apparel business, the growing of plantation and agricultural food as well as the rapid growth of higher culturally based educational institutions spewing over to support the industrial growth resulted in a flood of protests by the Indonesian government that foreigners were taking control of their economy and that laws had to be passed to avoid loss of control of their economic growth and dependency on foreign businessmen.
Soon after the declaration of independence was announced by the Indonesian government all Dutch citizens were ordered to leave the islands and return back to their native homeland. The fragility of the Dutch government was mainly due to the fact their armed forces had been dominated by both the Japanese and Germans during the world war and its inability to bounce back to a governmental power resulted in the colonial failures resulting in the self-governed freedom sought by the natives of the land who hated the foreigners. The message was clear and everyone scrambled to gather their personal resources to meet the rest of the clan at the harbors where ships sat waiting boarding of all those scheduled to depart on these large passenger ships headed for Europe and The Netherlands. Businessmen move quickly to liquidate their assets and stuff their money inside hastily made money belts and hidden compartments. A limit on how much they were allowed to take with them on their person, smuggling rings were developed to allow the rich to secretly stash their fortune inside compartments designed for luggage or property as well as other hidden places. Bribes, promises and extortions were common place and hopes of bringing their post war wealth to their homeland were hampered by strict inspections of persons, property and other belongings. Spearheaded by social and communist insurgents, Dutch citizens were closely inspected upon departure and harassed if suspected of smuggling or other acts of dishonesty. This revolution destroyed the colonial establishments and resulted in a new journey to the mother land in Holland.
Holland was the common name for the Netherlands, a small country situated on the western shores of Europe touching the North Sea and not too far from the English Channel. The land was positioned below sea level and surrounded by man made dikes or dunes to keep the water from overtaking the surface. Once a colonial power, it was now the newly chosen habitat for the ToersBijns family who had survived a long journey aboard a dilapidated passenger ship that held a few thousand refugees who has stowed on board all their live long belongings hoping to start a new trend with what they salvaged.
The ship was smelly and filthy. It wreaked the smell of vomit and the cabins were shared with other families as some were not so fortunate to have private dwellings and shared the cargo bays with hundreds of others squatting, nudging each other in efforts to find a space large enough to stretch out. The name of the ship was unimportant but it did belong to the Royal Dutch Packet Navigation Company, a shipping company with connections to all the islands of Indonesia and sea worthy to transverse the long trek from the islands to Europe through the waters of the Indian Ocean, the straights between the dead sea and Suez canal into the Mediterranean Sea passing the Rock of Gibraltar and reaching the shores of Amsterdam in a matter of months of sea sickness and dysentery, while enduring the medieval medical treatment for those who became ill and struck with the malaria disease. Having no access to real medicine, herbal concoctions were applied to break the fever. The food was unbearable and barely edible but as the self imposed hunger was a blessing versus a full stomach swerving from side to side while the waves pounded the ship, the crew members were rude, arrogant and un-thoughtful of all our the passengers needs. A family of two adult persons clinging onto the three minor children in a wave of humanity seeking new life in another world was a terrifying experience for them especially since the unknown still faced them ahead of them. Seldom seeing any other family member during the voyage, they depended on each other to keep the minors safe and sound from perverts and misaligned individuals crowded inside this hull of a ship for months.
How many months I can’t remember but it seemed an eternity. Seeking fresh air on top was a luxury seldom enjoyed and well deserved once you weaved through the waves of humanity compacted on this vessel. Hand in hand with firm grips so not be dislocated and misplaced in this multitude of bodies, we cried often and wished to be somewhere where it was warm and dry. The humidity and smell below deck was combining an odor not easily described as stinking but rather as something stronger and what you would expect of a dead animal whose carcass has decomposed for weeks and ripe with aroma.
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