Rabu, 03 Maret 2021

NASREDDIN - A MAN WITH THOUSANDS OF IDEAS - Cerita Rakyat Dalam Bahasa Inggris

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Before it’s Late


It was a long dry season. Most wells were dry. So, Nasreddin asked his son to take some drinking water from a natural fountain. He handed a jar to his on. After that, he hit his son’s face and said, “Be careful, don’t break the jar!” The boy cried and left.

One of his neighbours knew the event. He felt a pity on the boy. He approached Nasreddin and said, “Nasreedin, your son is a nice boy. Why do you hit him!

“In order not to break the jar,” Nasreddin answered.

“You’re not wise, Nasreddin. The jar is not broken, but you have hit your son.”

“You’re wrong,” Nasreddin answered, “If hit him after he breaks the jar, as most people do, it would be very late. And it is no use to do something late.”

 

Nasreddin felt that he was already old. He thought that he would die soon. So, asked for someone to make a grave for him. He promised to pay the man a certain amount of money when the work was finished.

During the work, Nasreddin protested many things about the grave. But, at last the man finished the grave making. He asked for the money Nasreddin had promised him.

Nasreddin said, “You cannot ask for the money now.”

“Why! You said that you would pay me as soon as I finish the grave.” Asked the man.

“The grave is not complete yet,” said Nasreddin.

“What else should I do to complete it. I’ve done everything,” said the man angrily.

“It’s not complete yet because the corpse is not there yet,” answered Nasreddin.

 

One day, when Nasreddin was still young, his mother would have something to do outside. Before leaving, she said to Nasreddin to watch the door carefully. Don’t let anyone in. there have been many thieves recently.”

Nasreddin, therefore, sat by the door. An hour later, his uncle came. “Where is your mother!” he asked.

She is out”, Nasreddin answered.

My family will be here altogether this evening. Go and tell your mother not to be away this evening.”

As his uncle left, Nasreddin started thinking, “Mother told me to watch the door. Uncle asked me to find her and tell her that he would be here with the whole family.”

Having thought over and over, he finally made a decision. He pulled the door up, carried up, carried it, and went to meet his mother.

 

One night Nasreddin dreamt something very beautiful. When he was sitting alone by the street, someone approached him. The man looked very kind and rich. He gave a gold coin to Nasreddin. He gave one more and more until there were coins. Then he stopped giving more coins.

Nasreddin knew that there was one more coin left in the man’s hand. He said, “Please, give me the other coin so that I have ten coins.”

The man shook his head again. Nasreddin wanted to hit the man. As he swung his hand, he woke up. He opened his hands. Of curse, there was eyes and cried, “All right, all right! You don’t have to give me more coins. Nine is enough. Now give them back to me!”

 

One night a thief was breaking into Nasreddin’s house. Coincidentally Nasreddin saw it. Then he hid in a big box in the corner of the room quickly.

The thief started searching for money pr jewellery in the house. He opened the cupboards, drawers, and wardrobe but he could not find anything. He was almost desperate and wanted to go out through the window. When he walked to the window he saw a big box in the corner of Nasreddin’s bedroom near the window. He was glad because he thought that there was jewellery or much money inside.

The box was tightly locked from inside. Yet, he could open the door hardly. He was very surprised to find Nasreddin inside the box. The thief was angry and said, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I hide from you,” said Nasreddin.

“Why?”

“I’m a shamed because I don’t have anything that you can take. That’s the reason why I hide here,” answered Nasreddin.

 

Someday Nasreddin’s country had a census. Two of the persons in charge came to Nasreddin’s house.

“How old are you, Nasreddin?” asked he.

“Forty,” answered Nasreddin.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nasreddin. Several years ago you said that you’re forty. And now you said that you’re still forty,” his friend said.

“You’re right. I always try to be consistent with what I have said,” he answered.

The man was a little annoyed. He said in amore serious tone, “Try to remember now. How old are you?”

“Yes, I remember now. I’m three years older than my brother.” Nasreddin answered.

The man asked, “How do you know?”

Nasreddin answered, “A year ago, my brother said to my friend that he was two years younger than me. It was last year. It means I am now one more year older than him. So, I’m there years older than him now. My God, I’m afraid I’ll become his grandfather soon.”

 

One of Nasreddin’s neighbours was a merchant. He traded to many foreign countries. He was considered the smartest man in the neighborhood because of his experience. When he went home from his journey he always had some new stories his neighbours had never heard before.

One day he told his neighbours a new story. “You know, I have just visited a new country that I have never imagined before. It’s really a strange country.”

“What’s so strange?” asked one of them. Nasreddin was sitting beside the man who just asked the question.

“The country was very rich. The people were bright skinned and quite smart,” explained the merchant.

“All right. And what’s so strange?” asked the other person impatiently.

“There the weather was very hot so that nobody wore any clothes.”

Quickly Nasreddin asked, “So, if they wore no clothes, how did you differentiate between the men and the women!”

 

Nasreddin has been sitting at the corner of crossroad for the whole day. The people passing by the crossroad were curious about what he was doing. One of them asked, “Nasreddin, why are you sitting here all day long?”

Relaxedly he answered, “One day, there will be an accident here. If there is an accident, there will be so many people here that I cannot se the accident before the people come here. So, I would be able to see the accident.”

The people laughed at him.

“Where are you going?” asked Nasreddin.

One of them said, “We’re going to play music. Come on, let’s play together.”

Nasreddin refused their offer because he couldn’t play music. But he was ashamed to admit that he couldn’t play any musical instrument. He thought that he should take a music course.

So, the next day he went to the best music teacher in town.

“Sir, I want to learn music here. Ho much is the fee?” Nasreddin asked the music teacher.

“The teacher said, “My students pay me twenty thousands rupiahs for the first month and fifteen thousands for the second month and the rest.”

Nasreddin said, “All right. I’ll learning music here from the second month.”

 

Once Nasreddin was elected a judge in his village. He faced a very puzzling case. In the trial the victim stated that the suspect had bitten his right ear. But the suspect argued that the victim had bitted his own ear.

Nasreddin said, “This is really a confusing case. The two explanation are contradictory. And there is no witness. Okay, the law trial is in recess for 30 minutes.”

After that, Nasreddin left the court and went to an empty room next door. There he tested the suspect’s and victim’s argument by biting his own ears. Whenever he tried, he fell down, therefore, his head was swollen all over. He smiled as he had found the answer to the case.

He started the trial again. “Let me see the victim’s head.” Said he.

The victim stepped up and Nasreddin examined the victim’s head. After examining the head for a while, Nasreddin said, “The victim is right. The logic is as follows. If his head was swollen, it would show that he bit his own ear, and the suspect would win the court. But the fact is his head is not swollen. It means that his ear had been bitten by the suspect.”

 

The king and Nasreddin were very good friends. The king almost always asked him to join when the king went hunting. That day he asked Nasreddin to join him to go hunting for bears in the forest nearby.

Even though Nasreddin had joined the king to hunt many times, but actually he was afraid of wild animals, especially bears. So, before he joined the king, he had come to his friends and asked for their advice about hunting bears.

When Nasreddin went home, he met one of the friends coincidentally. His friend was smiling and asked, “How was the hunting, Nasreddin?”

“That’s very amusing hunting,” Nasreddin answered cheerfully.

“How many bears did you got?” his friend asked further.

“I even didn’t see any,” he answered.

His friend asked, “Why do you say it’s amusing?”

“Well, if you were in my shoes, you would have been very happy not to see any bear. You know, I’m scared of bears,” Nasreddin explained.

 

Nasreddin was very poor. He didn’t have any money to buy even some fruits. He knew that his neighbour had a rich garden of fruit trees. But the garden was surrounded by a high concrete fence.

Nasreddin climbed the fence and jumped into the garden. He climbed up the most fruitful tree. He picked some fruits and put them into his bag. Suddenly someone said, “Hi, Sir. What are you doing up there? This is my garden, don’t you know?”

Nasreddin was afraid and ashamed. He answered, “A big cyclone swept me here, Sir. I don’t know what to do.”

The man was smiling and said, “I’m so sorry to hear that. But why do you pick my fruits?”

“When the cyclone swept me into this garden, I lost my balance and tried to hold something. And I could only reach the fruits,” Nasreddin answered.

“Really?” the man said, “Then why are they in your bag?”

Nasreddin answered, “Well, that’s what I’m thinking about now. Why are they in my bag!”

THE RING

 

One of Nasreddin’s close friends was a merchant. He often travel led away from his town. One day, he visited Nasreddin to say goodbye before he had a long trip. When he saw Nasreddin’s beautiful gold ring with a precious stone in it, he wanted to own it.

“Nasreddin!” said he. It is really hard to be apart from you. I am always restless because you are my only close friend in this world. So, please give me your ring. When ever I see your ring, when I am away, I will always remember you and feel close to you.”

The ring was the most valuable possession of Nasreddin. He would not give it to anyone else.

“I am so touched to hear it, my friends.” Nasreddin said, “Just like you, I can hardly be separated from you for a long time. So, please have a pity on me. Let me ring be on my finger. Whenever I see the ring during your trip, I will always remember my friend who have tried to have it but I did not allow him. Then I will always feel close to you, too, although you are away.”

 

One night Nasreddin came home very late. Whereas his wife was waiting for him restlessly. When he came his wife got angry.

She said, “I have been cooking for you all afternoon but you come home very late. Now the food is table. We cannot eat anything.”

She hit her husband’s chest several because she was very annoyed. Then she pushed him backward. Unfortunately he fell and rolled down the stairs. It made a loud noise.

The couple was quarreling after that. His closest neighbour heard the noise and came to their house. He knocked at the house strongly.

“What’s wrong with you. It’s late at night already and you keep making noises,” said the neighbour.

“My coat falls along the stairs,” answered Nasreddin.

It’s only a coat and you shouted as if you hurt yourself,” said the neighbour.

Nasreddin answered quickly, “Of course, I shouted loudly because I was inside the coat.”

 

There were several soldiers who just came back from a battle. Some of them went to a food stall and told the others about his bravery and manliness in the war. Nasreddin was one of the listeners.

One of the soldiers said, “I swung my sword left and right, many enemies fell down and died at once.”

The listeners clapped their hands. The soldier looked very proud.

“Your story reminds me of something!” Nasreddin shouted.

“What’s that?” asked one of the listeners.

Nasreddin said, “In the last war I fought, I swung my sword toward my enemy’s legs. He was also dead at once.”

Then the applause came to him. Suddenly one of soldiers asked, “Why didn’t you just behead him? It’s much greater for a warrior.”

“That’s impossible,” Nasreddin answered quickly.

“Why?” asked the other.

“My comrade had done it before I did,” answered Nasreddin.

 

Nasreddin was chatting with his friends. He asked his friends, “Which is more important, the sun or the moon?”

“Both are important. None is more important than the other,” his friends answered almost spontaneously.

“No, I think in general the moon is more important than the sun,” said Nasreddin.

“Is it? Why?” one of his friends asked.

Nasreddin answered seriously, “Night is dark. So, people need light very much. Fortunately, there is a moon. It gives people don’t need any light. So, they don’t need the sun.”

All of his friends laughed together.

But Nasreddin soon said further, “Night is dark. Maybe it is a problem for you. But, for me it is not. Since I can see in the dark, for me night and day are just the same. So, both the moon and the sun are not important to me.”

One of his friends asked, “If it is true, Nasreddin, why I sometimes saw you walking with a light at night?”

“Oh, that’s only to prevent somebody from hitting me.”

 

One day Nasreddin went down town. It was very hot. He wanted to take a bath. So, he went a public bathroom.

At that time he wore shabby dress. The man in charge of the bathroom did not care him so much that the man just gave him a small piece of soap and an old dirty towel. Then he took a bath in that public bathroom.

After taking a bath, Nasreddin gave the man two gold coins happily. He did not show any disappointment on his face for the poor service. The guard was very surprised and thought Nasreddin should have given him much more money if his service was better.

A week later Nasreddin came back to the same public bathroom. He wanted to take a bath there. The guard welcomed him warmly with a nice smile. He was treated like a king. He was given the best towel and fragrant soap. The guard also gave him a massage. After taking a bath, Nasreddin gave the guard two coins with the cheapest value.

The guard stared at him confusedly.

Nasreddin said, “The money is for the former service. And the gold coins last week were for your service now.”

 

Nasreddin was not very rich. But sometimes his wife asked him for something beyond his reach. That day, for example, she asked him to buy her a gold ring. Of course, Nasreddin could not buy it for her. His wife got angry.

In the evening, she made soup. She intentionally put so many chilies that the soup was too hot to eat. Fo course, she did not tell her husband about it.

But a moment later, when the time for dinner came, she herself forgot about it and took a spoon of soup and sipped before Nasreddin took any. Of course, she felt too hot and tears came down her cheeks. She tried to hide it from her husband and said nothing.

“Why are you crying?” asked Nasreddin, seeing his wife in tears.

“My mother used to make such soup for me. So whenever I make it, I always remembers her, then I cry,” answered his wife.

Nasreddin, without any suspicion, took a spoon and sipped it. He, of course, feel to hot, too, and his tears fell down from his eyes. His wife asked him, “Why are you also crying?”

He answered, “I am also very sad. When your mother died, why didn’t you follow her at once?”

 

Nasreddin got married again after his wife died one year before. About three months after the wedding party, his wife gave a birth to a baby son.

His wife was very happy. “Look, Nasreddin, we have a healthy baby son, now. He will make you proud later,” said his wife.

Nasreddin smiled and did not say any word. The next day he went to the market and bought several things, such as, paper, pencils, pens, erasers, and even toys. After getting all the things, he went home quickly.

At home he put all the things beside the baby and said, “Those are you, my baby.”

His wife was surprised to see that. She said, “What are you doing, my dear husband?” You are all right, aren’t you? It take several years before a baby can read or write.”

He answered, “You’re wrong honey. Our baby is not an ordinary baby. It is an extraordinary baby.”

“How do you know?” his wife asked.

“That’s obvious. It was born three months after we got married, not nine months. So, I think we will grow up fast and be able to read and write well in few months.”

 

When Nasreddin was still a young boy, he was very naughty. He always disobeyed what his father asked him to do. Very often, he did something contradictory to his father’s order. Therefore, if his father ordered him to do something, he preferred giving contradictory order rather than straight forward one. If he, for example, wanted his son to come into the house, he would say, “Get out, son,”

One day, the father and son were walking home from the market. They brought a donkey with them. They put some sacks of flour on its house. When was a river about 2 kilometers before their house. When they were crossing the river, one of the flour sacks down from the back of the donkey.

The father said, “Nasreddin, the sack is sliding down. Push it down firmly.”

The father, of course, hoped that Nasreddin would lift the sack instead of pushing it. But that time Nasreddin even did the order as it was said. He pushed the sack so that he drowned it into the river. Soon it disappeared into the water.

Seeing that, the father got angry. He said, “You’re a fool, Nasreddin!”

Nasreddin answered, “Sorry, Dad. I obeyed your order now just to show how foolish your orders are.”

 

Nasreddin was a poor man. He lived in shabby house. Whenever it rained, the roof was always leaking. So, he always had to climb a ladeer to fix i. since was very difficult and dangerous, he had to do it carefully.

It was a sunny morning when Nasreddin was repairing the roof. An old man was walking in the street. He saw Nasreddin on the roof and waved his hand to ask Nasreddin to come down.

“There must be something important for me,” thought Nasreddin. So he climbed down the ladder. He almost slipped many times that he might fall down. As he reached the ground, the old man said, “I really poor man, Nasreddin. Please give me some money. I really need it.”

Nasreddin got very angry. But he repressed his anger and said, “Go up the roof!”

He helped the old man get on the ladder. As the old man was already on the roof, Nasreddin, standing on the ladder, said, “I am also poor. I have no money either.”

The old man asked, “Will you give me some money after this?”

“No, I have said I am a poor man also. If you don’t want to help me fix roof, just climb yourself. I’m sorry, I cannot help you either,” said Nasreddin.

 

One day Nasreddin wanted to go out town but his donkey was ill very weak. So, he decided to borrow his friend’s horse. He was an officer an his horse was very tall and big,

The sun was shining brightly. Nasreddin rode the horse to go to the market. On the way the horse was frightened by a vehicle that overtook him in a high speed. It was galloping and jumping high before running very quickly.

The horse was so tall and big that Nasreddin got difficulties in controlling it. When Nasreddin wanted to ride it toward his house, it even ran quickly to the opposite direction. Nasreddin was very scared because he could not stop it. That time the horse was running toward rice fields.

Nasreddin’s neighbour was ploughing his rice field. Because he felt very tired, he took a rest. Suddenly he saw Nasreddin riding a horse very quickly from a distance. He thought that Nasreddin brought important news for him. Therefore, he went to the streey to wait for Nasreddin.

When Nasreddin arrived there, to him he asked, “What’s the news?”

“No news for you” said Nasreddin.

“Why are you so in a hurry! Where are you going?”

“Don’t ask me, ask the foolish horse,” answered

Nasreddin. His left hand holding the neck of the horse firmly.

 

One day Nasreddin went downtown. When he walked in front of a shop, he saw nice trousers inside. He walked into the shop. There he examined many trousers. He chose the best, and took them with him. He said to the shopkeeper nearby, “I’ll take them.”

Then he walked to the other room of the boutique. There he saw many coats. He examined them. He thought that he was very interested in on of them. So he took one.

He went to the cashier. He gave the trousers back and said, “I take this coat.” Then he walked out.

The cashier shouted to call him back. Nasreddin went back and said. “What’s the matter?”

“Excuse me, Sir. You haven’t paid the coat yet,” said the cashier.

“I think I have given you trousers. How much are the trousers?” asked Nasreddin.

“They’re ten thousands rupiahs.”

“Okay, how much is this coat?”

“It’s also ten thousands, Sir.”

Nasreddin smiled. He said further, “That’s why I give you the trousers to buy this coat.”

“But Sir, you haven’t paid the trousers either.”

“Of course, I haven’t because I don’t buy them, “said Nasreddin.

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AFFANDI THE GREAT ARTIST - Cerita Rakyat Dalam Bahasa Inggris

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AFFANDI THE GREAT ARTIST

 

An Admirer from across the Seas

Siti, an American girl, was born and had always lived in New York. Everything about her was American, except for her name which is very Indonesian. Her parents gave her that name to remind them of Indonesia, a country they had once lived in for some years and had loved so much.

Since her early age, Siti had always felt close to Indonesia. She grew up in a house full of kinds of beautiful pieces of art from various parts of Indonesia. Of all those pieces, the one she loved most is a painting by Affandi, the famous Indonesian painter.

At first, the painting does not seem Indonesian at all, as it is scene from Times Square, New York, full of tall buildings, bright lights and many, people. Various bright colours seemed to dance around the canvas in free, creative lines and shapes. Siti always enjoyed looking at the painting. Standing close to it, she cannot make out anything aside from confusing blobs of paint, but as she stands further back, the painting slowly begins to look like Times Square, the busy place she is very familiar with.

Her father often told her stories about Indonesia, and also about her favorite artist, Affandi. She grew curious to know more about this man. Her father had met him once during the time he was working as a journalist in Indonesia. He even kept picture of the artist. They show a common, simple looking man with an almost bald head and thin, long hair.

Siti often tried to connect this man with her favourite painting. There was something she could not understand. The artist looked too simple to create such a great work of art. It made her more and more curious about Affandi. She made a plan to visit Indonesia one day, and see Affandi’s Museum in Yogyakarta, his home town.

 

The Long Awaited Trip

After so many years of planning and saving, Siti was finally really flying to Indonesia, to make her Affandi come alive.

Her plane landed in Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia. She had to see some of her father’s old friends there. After two days in Jakarta, she took a train to Yogyakarta. It was an eight hour day trip. As she had a window seat, she could enjoy the beautiful scenery of green rice fields and peaceful village life.

 

It was late afternoon when the train got to Yogyakarta. A ‘becak’ took her to a hotel. Along the road, she caught something different in this strange place. It was the peaceful city life of Afandi’s hometown. She was going to find more about him here.

 

The Museum

The next morning she took a ‘becak’ again to the Museum of Affandi, which was not far from her hotel or the important streets of Yogyakarta. The place was quiet and showed very little activity. She was the only guests that morning. She entered a building which looked like cave from the outside with a strange bamboo house on stilts in front. She promised herself to visit the house afterwards.

A Javanese gentlemen wearing a neat grey suit welcomed grey at the entrance in good English, and presented himself as the guide of the museum. Actually the museum consisted of two buildings which looked alike, situated side by side. The first one displayed all the works by Affandi. There were sculptures, sketches and paintings. As she entered the building, it seemed to open up. The thatched roof and ventilation holes allowed air and light to circulate well. Oil paintings were all over the walls. Some sketches were also displayed on the open mezzanine. Everything was so simple and natural, just like the rocks and bamboo in the surrounding area of the museum.

 

The Process

The guide showed Siti the early sketches and paintings made by the artist when he was still very young. They were very realistic and naturalistic, depicting his mother, wife and daughter. But they already showed the flowing curve which would later develop strength and marked his famous style.

Siti asked the guide a lot of questions. She was very curious to find out more about the kind of man Affandi had been and the kind of life he had lived. The guide told her about how Affandi had started as a self-taught billboard artist working for a movie cinema. At the time he was so poor that he had to sleep outdoors using unused billboards. At times he even took his little daughter, Kartika, to join him in his adventurous life.

Affandi’s continuous hard work and strugle brought him to several countries like Italy and India where he studied art seriously and developed his unique style which made him the pioneer of modern Indonesian art of painting. It was Affandi who introduced the use of strong colours pushed directly out of tubes to be expressively and spontaneously mixed on the canvas. The reason why Affandi liked to use this method was because he wanted to quickly express his feeling about the objects he was working on.

The guide showed Siti a series of Affandi’s work, starting from his early very naturalistic and realistic style to more and more expressionistic. Even his self portraits show development and process of deviation from the conventional rules of beauty in painting. The face the artist looks more and more deteriorated in his later portraits. Siti found out through the guide that this process indicated Affandi’s wish to keep the simplicity of his personality and to express his deep sympathy for simple, common people, so humble was Affandi he did not want people to call him a painted or an artist-he preferred to be known as a craftsman.

 

The Compound

The second museum was used for paintings made by several modem painters. The guide showed Siti to the back of the compound, where tapestry works made by Affandi’s wife, Maryati, were displayed. Siti asked the guide if she could have a look at the bamboo house. He led her first to the cart house next to it. When Affandi was still strong and could climb the stairs, he used to work up at the bamboo house. As he grew, older he had to move to the lower cart house which had only several stairs to climb. It was really a cart brightly painted in green and red, and modified into a house. The bamboo house had the same colours as the cart house. Under the stilts there was Affandi’s favourite bright yellow car. Upstairs there was only one open sitting area and one bedroom which looked simple but very comfortable and cozy. Around the bamboo house there were ponds which were naturally decorated with plants and flowers. Is between the two museums Siti saw the cemetery of Affandi’s and his wife’s. The whole compound looked so calm, yet warm and friendly. Siti tried to imagine how it used to be when Affandi had been alive and working there. Several picture in the museum described how the artist worked, even when he was too old and weak, helped by his daughter, Kartika. The image of the artist became much clearer to Siti and seemed to be so familiar, as if she had known him personally.

 

The Family

Through the guide Siti learned more about Affandi’s family. It was a family of artist. While Affandi’s work consists mostly of oil paintings, nis wife’s comprise embroidery paintings. Having such artistic parents, their, daughter, Kartika, also followed the same path with her oil paintings.

As Siti asked more questions about Affandi’s family, the guide took Siti back to the museum, to show her sketches and paintings of Affandi’s mother, his wife and his daughter.

Siti was very much impressed by the paintings of the artist and his daughter. Their togetherness was repeatedly shown in several paintings, sketches and even a sculpture. They reminded her of her own father, and a feeling of homesick crept into her heart.

“He must have been quite a special father,” she said to herself, as she looked again at the paintings of Affandi and Kartika one by one.

 

The Artist’s Hometown

Siti thanked the guide as the she left the museum compound. Her head was filled with the image of Affandi, the great artist of international reputation, who stayed so simple, dedicating all his life to his art and humanity. Siti stopped a while just outside the entrance gate and looked around her. People moved about at a very slow pace, much slower than what she was used to back in her country.

The ‘becak’ that had been waiting for her outside the museum took her around the town, to see the Sultan’s Palace, the silver craft village and some batik workshops. Siti was very impressed by the local people who smiled and were very friendly to her wherever she went.

In the evening she took a leisurely walk along the surrounding streets. She saw a lot of food stalls along the pavement of the road popularly known as Jalan Malioboro. Lit by kerosene lamps, people were eating cross-legged and chatting, while some street musicians played local instruments. Siti was tempted to enter one of the stalls. She even tried to eat like local people, using her right hand. The people in the stall taught her how to do it, and she tried to chat with them using her limited Indonesian against their limited English. She liked the food, and the warmth of this new friendship.

 

The Humbleness of Rice Stalk

As she walked back to her hotel, she tried to place her favorite Affandi in the middle of his hometown. What a contrast it was, to imagine the great artist of international reputation living simple life in the middle of a world of simplicity but amazing warmth. This contrast somehow answered her questions about the simple artist and his rich creation. She remembered her father’s words, quoting an Indonesia proverb: “Like a rice stalk bending weighted down with the burgeoning grain.”

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A MINANGKABAU BOY - Cerita Rakyat Dalam Bahasa Inggris

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A MINANGKABAU BOY

 

Hasril gave the ball made of newspaper a good kick, sending it flying off the dirt road into the wet mud of a freshly planted rice paddy. “Goal!” he cried to his friends, and ran down the small, grassy path to his home.

“Hey, Ma! I’m home!” Hasril shouted to his mother who was feeding the chickens behind the house. Quickly, he removed his shoes and ran inside, throwing his backpack full of books on the table. He was late coming home from school and his father had already left for the rice paddy. If he was going to have any time with the water buffalo, he would have to eat and finish his homework quickly.

The table was already set for the afternoon meal. Hasril grabbed an empty plate and filled it with rice from a large pot. He selected a piece of fish from one serving plate and spoonful of kangkung from another. Using his hands, he hungrily shoveled the spicy food into his mouth.

“I see you have found your lunch, Hasril,” his mother laughed, coming in from the back with a basket full of laundry. “Do your homework and then I have some food some food for you to take your father in the field.” Hasril’s mother set down had followed her inside out the door again.

Hasril is an 11 year old Minangkabau boy. The Minang live in a mountainous region of Western Sumatra, although many have moved to other parts of the country. They are a farming people who raise a large variety of crops in this fertile, volcanic highland. Everything from broccoli to onions, white potatoes, beans, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, eggplant, cauliflower and cucumbers are grown in small family, patchwork-like squares of ground. But mostly, they are rice farmers with paddies planted up the mountainsides like wide stairs.

Hasril was anxious to help his father in the family rice paddy. Unlike his brother Achmal, who was studying to be a master wood carver in the nearby village of Pandai Sikat, Hasril had always wanted to be a farmer. He loved to feel the wet mud of the rice paddy oozing between his toes. He loved the smell of the fresh, new seedlings and the sight of waving fields of golden grain ready to be cut. But mostly Hasril loved his water buffalo, Rabu. He finished his homework, quickly changed from his school uniform into an old t-shirt and shorts, and ran out the door.

“Bye, Ma!” Hasril shouted, picking up the fried tapioca root his mother had carefully wrapped in banana leaves and the pot of hot coffee for his father. Then down the road he went, sometimes running, sometimes walking, his bare feet feeling each stone on the rough, dirt road.

At the family’s rice paddy, Hasril’s father had already started clearing out the rice plant roots to prepare the field for planting. Rice grows like grass and the roots become tangled in the wet mud that is left after the plants are cut. This work is done with a water buffalo pulling a bajak which looks and works like a giant comb to tug the stubborn roots loose from the soil.

“Hasril! How was school? Here, you take over. After all, Rabu loves you best,” Hasril’s father said, pulling the large water buffalo to a stop.

“Okay, Pak!” Hasril answered, taking the reins from his father. Hasril felt proud and grown-up standing behind this animal-five times size and many more times his weight.

Hasril moved his water buffalo up and down the muddy rice paddy. Then at one turn, the water buffalo slipped and fell on his side, plunging Hasril into the thick mud. The buffalo struggled to get up, kicking his leg and moving his head and horns back and forth to gather the momentum to haul his huge form from the sticky mud.  Hasril didn’t dare let go of the buffalo, and the bull’s  strong movements threw him in and out of the reins tightly to keep the scared bull from running away. In only a moment, both were again going up and down the paddy as though nothing had happened.

Father and son spent the afternoon clearing the padi and as the sun was setting, they unhitched the buffalo. Hasril climbed on the great bull and, holding onto Rabu’s back far from the buffalo’s sharp horns, he rode all the way home.

The next morning was Sunday, and Hasril’s family took the family bendi, a small brightly colored horse-cart, into the town of Bukittinggi.

Bukittinggi, the center of Minangkabau culture, is a small mountainous town surrounded by many villages of kampungs like Hasril’s. Two of these villages are famous throughout the world Pandai Sikat where amazing woodcarvers turn out intricate designs with simple tools, and weavers create the elaborate traditional songket cloth of the Minangkabau : cotton woven with spun silver. The other is the village of Koto Gadang where silversmiths twist and turn silver threads into the delicate filigree earrings, necklace chains and bracelets that have become treasures in many countries outside of Indonesia.

But today, Hasril’s family needed to buy a cangkul, a tool that looks like a hoe but functions as shovel, rake, and spade. While his father bargained for the tool and his mother bartered with another merchant for length of cloth, Hasrils wandered along the nearby street.

Everywhere Hasril looked he could see his proud Minangkabau heritage. The name Minangkabau means “winning buffalo” and refers to the ancient story bout the beginning of the Minang people. In the mid 1300’s, invaders from Java came to conquer the land. The strongly outnumbered and out armed Minang thought of a clever plan to maintain their independence without bloodshed.

As the story goes, the chiefs of both sides decided to settle the dispute with a fight between two water buffaloes. The Javanese produced a monster of creatures-the largest water buffalo that they could find. The Minang brought to the contest a hungry, half-starved nursing baby water buffalo with knives tied to his short horns. Baby ran towards the Javanese prized buffalo to find milk and nuzzled his adversary, wounding the huge beast with his sharp knives.

Out of their deep respect for this animal, the Minangkabau build their roofs in a sloping U-shape to represent the water buffalo’s horns. The market skyline where Hasril stood was a maze of buffalo horn roofs in all directional. His own home in the village had a metal roof in the traditional sloping U-shape.

“Time to go, Hasril. We don’t want to miss the beginning,” Hasril’s father called to him as he emerged from the store with his new cangkul.

How could he have forgotten? Today his father had promised to take him the buffalo! Quickly, he ran to catch up.

Hasril and his father went by cart to the arena in the neighboring village. Buffalo fight had been a part of Minang tradition since they first claimed their independence some 600 years ago. As father and son came closer, they became part of a mass of people heading towards the same place-an open field outside the village.

By the time they arrived, several hundred people had formed a large square with two water buffaloes in opposite corners, held tightly by their owners. Hasril’s father swung Hasril up on his. Shoulders and they watched as the water buffaloes came face to face in the ring.

The rope that each owner had wound securely around his arm was attached to the water buffalo through the bull’s pierced nose. Water buffaloes do not naturally want to fight, so the owners must make their bulls angry. First they cut the rope that goes through the water buffalo’s nose. Then they spit on the rope remaining in their hands while running around the bulls, yelling. This spitting in a way to control the animal’s spirit and sure enough, within second, the water buffaloes charged at each other. Then they drew back. More spitting and the bulls locked horns again.

Hasril and his father were cheering. The crowd was roaring advice, hoping that their favorite buffalo would win. Suddenly one water buffalo pulled away, stumbled back and charged out of the ring, sending the on-lookers running in every direction. The bull that remained within the square was the winner.

Hasril and his father stayed to watch one more match. Then they followed the hundreds of people heading home as they laughed and talked and played and argued about whose bull was best.

Today on their return, Hasril and his father came across a neighbor’s wedding ceremony. They entertainment had started with a wonderful plate dance. Hasril and his father stopped to watch the dancers in their traditional dress, including the women’s sloping U-shaped hats. A dukun or magic man stood behind the dancers and kept them from cutting their feet as they jumped and danced on sharp shards of glass while twirling two plates in their hands.

Although Minang people are strongly Moslem, they still believe in hidden spiritual forces. Hasril’s life will always include these magical forces: special rites for the planting of rice, for the carving of wood, for the weaving of cloth, for the ceremonial dances.

Even in modern times, the Minang people are tied to their adat, their customs, in ways that is difficult for even other Indonesians to understand. From morning until night, from birth until death, everything Hasril does must follow the adat, the ancient customs that have made the Minang life strong from generation to generation. According to Minang adat, Hasril’s mother is the owner of all family goods and land, not his father adapt tells Hasril what to wear, whom he should marry and how the girls will ask him, what foods are to be eaten and when. It is a set of strong unwritten rules that cannot be broken.

But for now Hasril was tired. He lay down on his rope bed with its kapok mattress and fell asleep-happy with his independent Minang heritage, his home and many blessings, happy for the strength to be a water buffalo boy.

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