the majority of Indonesia’s Moslems commence the fast together, very few manage to continue for more than a few days. The general lethargy in the workplace becomes impossible to deal with by the end of the second week, at which time tempers have a tendency to become more volatile than usual.
As tuan of the house, his responsibility was to ensure that when the fasting period ended and the celebrations had commenced his staff would each have a set of new clothes and an additional ration of one month’s rice, or beras , as it is called before cooking. He was politely informed by the cook that tuan should give them sufficient funds that day in order that they have adequate time to instruct the tailor to sew the new clothes.
He agreed and immediately there were requests for loans, holidays and salary increases by all. Coleman suggested that they were overdoing their demands and reminded them of the jaga who had been replaced. Koki agreed that the others had been greedy and ungrateful and undertook to reprimand them herself.
Christmas was a nightmare as it co-coincided with the Ramadhan period. Home-made firecrackers prevented all but the very deaf from sleeping during the fasting period. There were many parties but one had to risk the possibility of being stranded at another’s home due to the curfew imposed nationwide. Liquor from the Embassy’s duty-free canteen was extremely cheap and, as there was very little else to do, most of the foreign community drank — in most households, to excess.
The New Year was quickly followed by the Lebaran holidays. As Moslems celebrated, the country was inundated with the wet season’s first rain. The conditions were not as Coleman had expected. Humidity caused discomfort demanding constant showering and a slowing of one’s physical pace. Offices closed at two-fifteen providing workers with the opportunity to take their lunch then sleep through the hottest part of the day. Expatriates emulated the locals. They too slept through the afternoons. Most evenings were occupied with cocktail parties, national day celebrations and endless dinner parties. Weekends were often spent in the magnificent Puncak Hills bungalows area, where cool evenings often required a log fire, due to the scenic area’s altitude of five thousand feet.
Coleman easily settled into the swing of the routine and soon enjoyed the self-confidence of an old hand. Local staff warmed to him when they understood that he had taken the time to learn to speak their language prior to his arrival. The drivers joked with Achmad, now Coleman’s warmest admirer, for the rumours he created regarding the new tuan’s Dutch shaped head, incorrectly designating him as a descendant of the former colonial rulers.
Achmad had suffered the embarrassment of their jokes until being requested through the driver pool manager, Sjaiful, to become the new Second Secretary’s permanent driver. He was ecstatic as this removed him from the uncertainty of not only his work hours but also provided him with the opportunity to deal only with a tuan who understood his language. He was so very pleased that evening when, having completed his ritualistic prayers, he prayed also for the health and good fortune of his new tuan who had come from that faraway country of weapons they threw into the sky called kangaroos and cuddly little bears they called dingo. He knew all of this as he had listened to the other tuans and their njonjas discussing such things and laughing, happily about their country with its strange habits and practices. Although culturally confused, he was a good driver.
Achmad’s position in the world improved overnight.
Ah, he had thought, he must ensure that his children have his advantage of understanding a second language!
Direct communication permitted Coleman access to government circles never before open to the monolingual embassy personnel. His willingness to assist others soon endeared him to the other Embassies for few of their staff could match Coleman’s fluency. His face could be seen at all the major social and diplomatic functions as the Corp Diplomatique suddenly discovered that they could invite senior military and cabinet representatives to their function without fear of their being left out of the conversations.
It was at such a function Coleman first met Louise. Embassy functions were not designed to entertain. More so, these events were orchestrated to continue to highlight both one’s country’s and one’s own presence on the cocktail circuit. Most parties commenced at the evening hour of six-thirty and rarely continued for more than two hours. Dress was normally formal and it was obligatory that all members of the host Embassy attend the Ambassador’s residence where the functions were normally held.
Coleman had dressed slowly to avoid perspiration spots. He just could not get used to the depressing heat! The black tie and cummerbund made him feel self-conscious when he was first required to wear the dress suit but now, his confidence was such, the thought of wearing the Singapore tailored outfit made him feel more presentable. During his first formal reception not long after his arrival, he had discovered that almost without exception the other male guests were as uncomfortable as he in the tropical heat wearing the white dinner jackets, and yet they all persevered with the inappropriate attire just because of tradition.
Most of the time, the talk at these functions was mundane. One woman would complain of boredom, poor servants, bad stomachs and the heat while another would compete with stories of rashes, cockroaches and petty theft amongst the servants. The men bragged of their latest excursions to Mama’s Bar where they drank hot Bir Bintang and paid the equivalent of thirty cents for a short time hooker out in the rear toilets.
Coleman soon discovered that eating the paté de fois was dangerous at these events. He restricted his diet to the occasional chicken saté as the electricity, and therefore the refrigeration, was not completely reliable.
He viewed the assembly which, as the alcohol took effect, appeared more like a flock of penguins gathering than the elite of the diplomatic establishment. It was Australia Day. Unfortunately, it was also the Indian National Day but tradition had it so that the Indian Ambassador would first attend the Australian function and delay the commencement of his own so as not to draw upon each others’ common guests.
He was bored. Even the champagne was warm and he found himself restless. He was about to refuse yet another glass from the attentive jongus and leave when he saw her moving through the garden towards the steps.
She was wearing a full length white evening gown and her blonde hair was cut just above her suntanned shoulders. Lifting the hem of her dress between thumb and forefinger, and with very little effort, she covered the four steps back into the crowded, hot and noisy main reception hall.
Coleman removed two glasses from the waiter’s tray and stepped into her path.
“I think you may have misplaced this,” he said, holding one of the glasses towards the young woman.
She stopped. Casually casting her eyes over the now noisy gathering she returned her gaze to Stephen.
“Thank you,” she smiled in response, accepting the flute. “I knew I’d left it here somewhere.”
Stephen was surprised to see an unattached and yet attractive European alone. Especially one as beautiful as this!
“Coleman. Stephen Coleman,” he offered.
“Louise,” she answered, “and thank you for the champagne.”
“Would you prefer to move away from the crowd? It’s safe, I can assure you,” Stephen offered, indicating an area in the corner garden.
She hesitated and then turned without speaking, leading the way back down the steps to the fountain and impeccably maintained garden. Raising her glass she said, “Saluté, Coleman, your timing was perfect!”
Stephen laughed and touching her glass with his own, paused momentarily to observe her place the crystal glass to her lips and sip the champagne before he followed, drinking the flute dry.
“Well,” she teased, “you’re either from the liquor suppliers or very thirsty,” referring to the speed at which he had consumed his drink.
“No such luck, I’m afraid. Just a thirsty civil servant,” he joked, feeling the alcohol working its wonders as