Dutch East Indies Heritage Project

2012-01-11T12:05:00.000-08:00

Living in the Pacific Northwest in the winter time is quite dreary. As beautiful as it is here with the mountains, water and lush foliage it is still dreary. So posting these images of luscious tropical fruit perks me up a bit. It was a lifetime search of my parents who migrated across several continents to obtain a fruit which reminded them of their youth in the tropics. I tend to search in the same way, but perhaps it's a bit more symbolic than literal. The tropical roots never leave one's soul....

Childhood

2011-10-17T14:21:00.000-07:00

1958 Rotterdam, Netherlands - [back row] unknown Dutch neighbor girl, Mary, Roy [front row] Bianca, Donald, David

What good is a heritage project without some childhood photos ? This was taken in our old neighborhood in Rotterdam, Netherlands. We were always playing in the streets as there were no yards. The neighborhood was inner city with apartment buildings. Donald and I used to pick old chewed up gum off the sidewalks and put it in our mouths and chew it. I remember some of the gum even had shoe tread marks from people stepping on it - yummy. I was always very healthy throughout my life and I attributed it to this wonderfully disgusting habit - it made my immune system strong !

In this photo it looks like we wore our Sunday best because I'm holding my little purse. It was probably taken after church Sunday school or something. The boys shorts and sweater combo, typical for that time, and the girls' dresses all indicate dress-up time - hence Sunday. I remember this little purse because it made me feel very grown up. In the purse I kept a little hanky and a fake plastic lipstick tube.

This was after the war. The two eldest, Mary and Roy, were born in Surabaya, Indonesia. They were toddlers when our parents stepped onto the gangplank of the big boat which took them far away from Southeast Asia to Europe. The front row kids were all born in Rotterdam, The Netherlands (at home).

So whenever I see this photo I think about the little purse and the chewing gum with tread marks.

Another WWII story - American Airmen and Headhunters of Borneo

2011-05-28T20:06:00.000-07:00

This is a remarkable story of a group of airmen who parachuted down into the jungle. Their plane was shot by the Japanese as they were flying on a mission over the island of Borneo. They encountered an unlikely ally in the deep jungle as they were bonded by a common enemy - the Japanese military.

Watch the full episode. See more Secrets of the Dead.

Family Oral History Project

2011-03-24T01:42:00.000-07:00

Courtest of Johannes Adriaansen
Mother, Corrie Emily "Hobern" Adriaansen born in Cheribon, Java

This is a very important project which is an effort to capture stories from the generation who were born in the Dutch East Indies before WWII - the last link. Not everyone can write a book or make a movie, but here is an opportunity to record your story. Or you can help your loved one document their story.

Please follow these instructions if you wish to participate:

Instructions

Stories can be submitted in any format:

Record your voice by tape.
Write it on paper by long hand.
Type it on paper.
Electronically on computer.

Please include:

Name of contact person
Phone number
Email address
Mailing address

How To Send Your Story

By Email:
stories@theindoproject.org

By Fax:
941-918-4960

By Regular Mail:

Kareen Richard
124 Happy Haven Drive #36
Osprey, Florida, 34229
Tel: 941-918-4960
Mobile: 908-208-2059

Tip: Click to see instructional video on using a photo album when interviewing.

Family Oral History Project

Honoring Thirza

2010-11-11T23:12:00.001-08:00

The little girl with the skinny legs holding a little white purse is my cousin Thirza. The event was my parents' wedding Oct 2, 1947 in Soerabaja, Oost Java (Surabaya, East Java) Indonesia. She must have been around 9 years old at the time. It was right after WWII and material things were scarce. My mother made her own wedding dress and made the hat and veil to match my dad's military cap. She always liked to be different and add a new twist to something otherwise traditional. The way Thirza is holding this little purse, I would imagine it to be a priceless treasure amongst the left over rubbles of war as they rebuilt their lives.

Thirza just passed away on Nov 8, 2010 at 4:30 in the morning - it was sudden. She leaves behind her soulmate, Dick, and two adult children Cyndi and Donny and grandchildren. She is known to Americans as Jeanette though the family always called her Thirza.

There are few people in this world one can say you have truly known all your life. Sure there are obscure and distant relatives, acquaintances, and the marginal family friend. But to honestly say you truly know them is rare. Well, Thirza I know. Why ? She was always there in times of need. In her quiet soft-spoken way she was always available to lend a hand. I experienced several deaths in our family and each time Thirza and Dick came over to comfort and assist with whatever needed to be done. Nothing was too great.

My fondest and most impressionable memory was their wedding in 1961 in Holland. I was 6 years old at the time. When I saw Thirza in her wedding dress and veil and Dick in his official Navy uniform I thought I was in a fairy tale and they were a real princess and prince. It was so pure and so elegant I was enchanted the entire time. You can imagine a little girl completely mesmerized. And so the following 46 years of marriage brought them all the challenges life can offer including a missionary stint in New Guinea where Thirza was like a fish out of water, but she complied and believed in their mission and supported Dick in his assignment.

We've lost an angel on this earth. She's gone back home to heaven. Her mission is accomplished.

We miss you and love you Thirza. Please give a big hug to my mom, dad, brothers David and Roy for me....

Sense of Belonging

2010-09-29T22:52:00.000-07:00

This blog was started in 2005 because I wanted to get in touch with my roots from the former Dutch East Indies. I always have to say "former" or "now Indonesia" because it no longer exists as our parents knew it to be. Clearly, the sense of identity and belonging is innate as I meet more like-minded people who also revere and want to preserve the legacy of the Dutch East Indies - Tempoe Doeloe (the good ol' days). This personal blog may be neglected for the greater picture which is the creation of The Indo Project. However, I still find it to be a time of solace and reflection as I write on this blog.

It is thrilling to know that the younger generations are interested in the stories of their grandparents and the land where they are from. It is my deepest hope that we can leave a legacy for them which reminds them of where they came from. Don't we all want to know that ? It's hard to move forward unless you know where you came from. It makes one complete. The collective memory of the stories keeps the history alive of the Dutch East Indies, both the good and the bad.

I am proud to be part of this history and I am glad to belong to this incredible community.

Heritage Tours to Indonesia

2010-07-25T10:24:00.000-07:00

If you are interested in traveling to Indonesia, The Indo Project is developing tours specifically tailored to the Indo-Dutch community. There is no such kind in existence. The tour coordinator is Tim OCallaghan who is an experienced tour specialist and has extensive knowledge of Indonesia having travelled there over 15 times. His mother was a Dutch prisoner during WWII under Japanese Occupation and he has traced back her steps which included the prior camp site of Tjideng in Java.

Your input in this survey will help us plan the itinerary and make it a meaningful sojourn as we explore the past and gain understanding about our heritage.

Click here:

The survey is only 7 questions and does not require your identification.

Tamara Fielding as Indo Profile

2010-06-11T21:32:00.000-07:00

The Indo Project

Tamara Fielding is a "Dalang" -a shadow master who performs all over the world. She explains her background in the first ten minutes paying homage to her heritage. See The Indo Project blog for more detail.

Connecting The Dots Through Modern Technology

2010-06-05T22:13:00.001-07:00

Facebook, fax, email,mobile phone, IM, etc; all these modern methods are making the world smaller, particularly the Indo (Indo-European) world. The 2nd, 3rd and even 4th generations are now able to reconnect to their roots as information becomes more readily available. On YouTube one is able to retrieve archival footage of the Dutch East Indies, also referred to as The Netherlands East Indies.

The lack of access to information about one's culture can lead to its final demise, fortunately the reverse is happening. We are finding each other again. There are so many stories to share. My parents are gone now, but their spirits live on and their memory is honored through this blog. It is only natural.

It's been a long journey, but we are connecting the dots now. Visit www.theindoproject.org for a more comprehensive view.

Latest Book: End The Silence by Dorothy Read

2010-06-05T22:02:00.000-07:00

Local author Dorothy Read (from Whidbey Island, WA) has written a book about a WWII survivor who is Dutch-Indonesian "Indo", Ilse Veere Smit during the Japanese occupation of the Dutch East Indies and the ensuing revolution. She did a remarkable job on the Idaho Public Television station on Dialogue in an interview explaining the premise of the book.

We need people like Dorothy to help us tell our story of survival and resilience. She is a champion for all those survivors of the Japanese POW camps during WWII.

Please write on Dorothy's blog and share your story. Click on above title (hyperlink) to get to her blog.

Honoring the Women (Part III)

2010-05-13T00:44:00.001-07:00

I have to show this picture for its imperfection and quirky story behind it which led to her eventual life mate. This is my mother at the age of 17 in Indonesia (1935). She had many suitors in her day and each one proved to be to her dissatisfaction. Originally, this picture had another person in it, her beau at the time. I believe he was standing to her left (our right). Well, she decided she did not like him any more because he was too bossy, snoopy and too tall and he hovered over her constantly. She broke up with him. In the meantime, the picture was already developed. So when she received the final picture, she took her scissors and cut out his image (pre-photoshop).

Why is this honor worthy ? Because she was true to herself. Despite her flaws, she was always genuinely herself. You got what you saw. I hope I am like that. You cannot pretend to be someone you are not because at some point the truth will come out. She came from a pseudo-aristocratic colonial background and married my father late in life. He was Indonesian. He was a champion boxer in his day. He was a tough KNIL (Royal Netherlands East Indies Army) soldier. He was a former POW. In a colonial social hierarchy the color of one's skin determines the treatment one receives. He was dark brown. She was light-skinned. He stole her heart and for whatever reason, out of all the suitors he fit the bill. They faced many challenges which are beyond comprehension today and even divorced from each other, two times. As teenagers, we attended their second wedding ceremony. However, they remained committed to their children and to each other as parents. There was so much history between them that it functioned as the glue. In the twilight of their years, they lived only 5 American freeway minutes apart.

She was true to herself.

Postal History of Dutch East Indies

2010-04-04T16:02:00.000-07:00

The handwriting on this postcard reminds me of my parents', especially my mom's. There was a certain artistic flair to it and I always recognized her handwriting immediately above all others. My father's was more structured and controlled and looked like a piece of art. This particular postcard is from 1903 from Sumatra to Holland "Greetings out of Sumatra".

Kopi Luwak - World's Most Expensive Coffee

2010-02-26T17:30:00.000-08:00

At $160 per pound, what makes this coffee so expensive ? Apparently, the cherry beans of the coffee plant are eaten by a nocturnal animal called a Luwak. Oh..this gets better. The entire bean does not get digested, just the outer layer. So it basically passes through the animal's digestive tract and is excreted..yes..pooped out. It gets washed, and then sun dried. Locals believe that the "animal stage" provides some kind of enzyme which ferments leading to the exquisite flavor it yields. It is described as a rich flavor with hints of caramel or chocolate. In short, Indonesia produces the world's most expensive coffee because of this unique processing.

Descendants of Shipwrecked Survivors

2010-01-29T01:23:00.000-08:00

This subject has always fascinated me. During the massive maritime trade routes of the 16th century many ships were destroyed and ended up at the bottom of the ocean. Along with the shipwrecks were a handful of survivors who made it to shore. Statistics were hard to obtain for obvious reasons, but it was known that they were missing.

My colleague and friend Mike Hillis has met an incredibly unusual man named Goyo. He is believed to be a descendant of some European sailor/adventurer type several generations back having mixed with the local women. His features clearly are not pure Indonesian because he is tall and has big feet and hands and has some kind of non-Asian features. Here are Mike's words:

"This man is an Indo from the jungle of the Spice Islands. His name is Goyo and he was born and lives in the jungle. I met him in April, 2009 in a small coastal village on a remote island. Most Indos learned how to eat with cutlery a long time ago. Goyo does not own shoes, eats off banana leaves and hunts wild jungle boar. He is known as the Raja Hutan (King of the Jungle)...."

I also recently read about a DNA study that was done in Australia to determine how much Dutch DNA is mixed with the Aboriginals in a particular area where there were shipwrecks. The study is being done by the VOC Historical Society in Perth.

Old East Indies Map

2009-12-12T14:52:00.000-08:00

For Our Heritage

2009-12-03T17:10:00.000-08:00

This is a "pre-announcement". In the next month you will be notified of some very exciting news regarding my people.

A documentary project is underway as we speak. This film will chronicle the Indo's (Dutch-Indonesians/Eurasians) historical journey from their birth in Indonesia to their adopted countries, spanning over 350 years. It is an untold story in North America and our intention is to share this magnificent legacy. One of my partners appropriately calls it a "historical cold case". A case we will revive with this narrative film and other initiatives on the agenda. Hang on to your seats. More information will be posted as the project develops.

Until then, enjoy the holiday season !!!

My Adventures in Indonesia (1988)

2009-11-19T23:31:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's now 2009 and I'm finally writing this down for all the world to see. Indonesia in 1988 was quite different as it was in 1955. But it is still the wondrous tropical motherland from where we originate.

A window of opportunity came and I snatched it up. With some careful planning, I began with teaching English in Tokyo for just under a year, went to Hong Kong and on to Jakarta and the adventure began. This was before computers and travel blogs and WiFi cafes. So the only information we had were our little guidebooks with some phrases and whatever information other travelers shared with us. One of my best friends (a seasoned traveler) met me in Jakarta and we proceeded onward. In a way it's kind of nice not to know a lot. That way it justifies our outrageous Western behavior to the natives. Like climbing over a chain link fence to catch our train at 4:30 in the morning. Not only that, but my friend was wearing a dress and the hem got caught on the top of the fence but the rest of her body was already on the ground so all the world got to see what was underneath the dress. We were laughing so hard of course. I'm sure the locals thought we were off our rocker (they get up early). Oh well.

Most people write about the temples, rice paddies, flora and fauna, etc. So I'll just zip ahead and write about our perspective as two single women traveling amongst a traditional society such as Indonesia. I'm pretty sure I confused everyone. If not that, then it was curiosity. I don't exactly look American but I wore American clothes and walked and talked the jive. On the other hand, I don't look completely Indonesian but clearly there's a hint of it particularly as my skin got darker and darker by the day. In the process of haggling or negotiating a price I definitely noticed I kind of had an "edge". Thanks to my genes. Okay, enough of that.

On to "Johnny"... This young Javanese guy became our shadow initially showing us the local sites and then continued following us even by train as we headed to Bandung. He showed up a couple days later and popped up out of nowhere. We learned quickly if you showed any hint of interest, they're on you like flies. On to Bali, Lovina Beach... what a riot ! The guidebooks never warned us that there would be Balinese gigolos pumping iron on the beach scoping out the western chicks. We were whisked away to a makeshift "nightclub" which had a rotating disco mirror light ball and blasting music. We danced all night stumbling back to our little losmen and plopped down in our beds as the sound of ocean waves lulled us to sleep.

What I loved about traveling this way is the unpredictability of everything. I ended up traveling up to Sumatra with my new "friend-Francois-from-France". He was great, more like a brother than anything. It was completely different traveling with a male. I did not feel as much on edge and there was an instant sense of order and protection. He became like a brother to me and we had a great time exploring Lake Toba territory, home of the Batak people. He accused me of brushing my teeth too much. It was time to part.

This was all back when I had good feet, a backpack and little sense. It was a turning point and my orientation started to point more towards my heritage and where it all began - this wondrous rich island nation.

Honoring the Women (Part II)

2009-11-05T06:11:00.000-08:00

As I look through the old photos of my family, I started to notice a certain trend. I don't know if it's just my own family (mother's side) or if it was part of the culture of their day, but I saw more photos of women together than couples. For instance this photo, it is my mother at around age 19 with her mother. There were other siblings and I believe her father had passed away around that time. It looks like a formal portrait. Isn't it kind of interesting ? Can you imagine nowadays going to a portrait studio only with your mother and posing for a picture together ? I saw other photos of two sisters or a two female cousins. Now that I think of it, the females in my family are all strong. My eldest tante (aunt) is 97 years old. A year ago, she still flew to the USA for her annual visit from The Netherlands. On her return to Schiphol airport in Amsterdam her pickup party was not there due to some miscommunication. So here is this elderly lady stranded after an 11-hour international flight. After waiting a while she hailed a cab and ended up using all the birthday money she got at her party in the USA. We all admire her. After my mother died (her younger sister) with a forlorn look on her face, she said there was no one left from her youth.

Mom had another sister who was the eldest. I think their age difference was almost 12 years, so she was kind of like a second mom to her. Her name was Tante Ellie. Apparently when Mom was about 15 years old, an Arab sheik spotted her at the local pasar (market). Later, when they returned home someone knocked on the door. Tante Ellie answered the door and a man representing this sheik said my mom was chosen to be his master's next wife and asked for her hand in marriage. Tante Ellie was shocked ! Immediately she wanted to shield and protect her little sister. She told the guy to wait on the veranda. She went out through the back, ran to the pasar to buy a cheap ring, came back, put the ring on my mom's finger, went through the front door to the veranda dragging my mom behind her, pulled out my mom's hand clearly showing the ring and said she was already spoken for. The sheik's rep honored this, bowed and left. I love this story !

Memories

2009-09-04T15:01:00.000-07:00

There are some things I just cannot part with. This is one of them. It is one of the original suitcases my parents brought with them to the USA when we emigrated from Holland in 1962. It still has a piece of the US Customs inspection sticker on it. Sitting on top is the leather briefcase in which my dad carried all our important immigration papers, documents, etc. He was very good about record-keeping. I am not positive but I believe these two items also came from Indonesia back in 1950 because even in 1962 they looked very old and worn. As I touched the suitcase and briefcase tears swelled up and rolled down my face. So much history and energy is connected to these items. Their lives were are stake as they fled Indonesia. Papa was on the Indonesian Revolutionists's hit list as a Dutch sympathizer and collaborator. He worked with very sensitive information as an undercover reporter for the Dutch military. Since he was dark (Ambonese origins) and he had extensive knowledge of all the dialects, he served the Dutch well. Mom said they had to flee and were the first of our extended family to leave. With a 2-yr-old under one arm and a 4-yr-old under the other arm, she said they walked up the gangplank of the huge oceanliner never to see their homeland again. They were the only family. She said the rest of the passengers were young Ambonese men heading to Holland for work.

It was only in their old age that my parents really started to reflect and share these kinds of stories. It's almost like the gravity of a lifetime had settled in and their minds can now review all that they've experienced. Also, maybe it was because I had more one-on-one time with them. The story about walking on the gangplank occurred in the car. After an appointment I drove mom to a scenic waterfront near our home. Living in the Pacific Northwest we are surrounded by scenic water and mountains and never tire of it all. We stayed in the car looking at the beautiful water and it must have evoked a memory in her as she proceeded to share this story. She had a very far away look on her face and we sat in silence together. That's the kind of energy I feel when I handle this old suitcase and briefcase.

May parents lived through tremendous losses and upheavals, but never did I see them complain or feel sorry for themselves. Both parents are gone now. I cherish and honor their memory with all my heart and soul. I still miss them very much. Thank you Mom and Pap for everything ! God bless you.

Family Ties

2009-08-26T09:24:00.000-07:00

2009-Aug-26: Summer is coming to an end. Time for reflection as the air begins its transformation to another season. I can hear it by the way the wind moves between the leaves on the trees. I love this in-between time.

My sister just left with her kids to go home to France. This is their annual sojourn to America. Each visit marks the many changes in our family over the years. What struck me the most this time is how the little ones are not little any more. I see in their features traces of their grandparents and hints of a mixed heritage. My 16-year-old French niece is asking questions and wants to know about her mother's side of the family.

We reconnected with cousins, nieces, nephews and various relations. I also realize that now I am my parent. The generation before us is no longer at family gatherings. Onse lieve oudjes (our loving elderly) have left this earth and now we are stepping up the generation ladder. This makes me more compelled to tell our story. We have a very special legacy to share and pass down. We are the in-betweens. Perhaps that is why I like this time of year as the season transitions to the next.

My Travels

2009-08-10T02:33:00.000-07:00

The pins are where I've traveled so far.

Looks like I need to go to Africa and Australia.

Create your own travel map or travel blog
TripAdvisor has airfare search

Me and My Little Angklung

2009-08-07T16:06:00.000-07:00

What can I say ? I love the sound. Even this little one has that soft muted sound bamboo makes. My dream is to see an entire orchestra performing on the big versions.

Honoring the Women

2009-07-25T12:47:00.000-07:00

Orchids. This is one of my favorite flowers. My wedding bouquet consisted of orchids. Our wedding cake was designed line a staircase with the layers detached and orchids were draped over each layer cascading down. Orchids are not only beautiful but very resilient. I had one sitting over the winter time totally neglected. I thought it was a goner, but kept it because it was a gift. Then in the spring I got that wanting-to-plant feeling and decided to nurse it back. Well, it didn't take much. Just some watering and plant food and sunlight. Now it is absolutely glorious sitting in my little laundry room window which gets a lot of sunlight.

Why am I going on about orchids ? They remind me of the women in my family. My mother, my sisters, my aunts (tantes), my grandmother and greatgrandmother, and all the women in the extended family. They were beautiful on the outside and made of steel on the inside. Instead of "steel magnolias" they were "steel orchids" (the Asian version). When the men were taken away during the war, the women had to fend for themselves. My mother said they knitted socks for the Japanese soldiers to make extra money. She said they had one light bulb and used an oatmeal box (Quaker's ?) to cover the light bulb as a shade because all lights had to be out at night. So they knitted socks under that one light bulb. She told me her older sister had a knack for making peanut brittle which they sold to bring in money to the household. Oma was a short little squat mother hen who would do anything to protect her brood. Her husband (my Opa) was a very tall man who held her in the highest esteem unfortunately died early, but fortunately for him before the war when all hell broke loose.

Another "steel orchid" is Oma on my father's side. She also was a little spitfire, 4 ft 11 ft who raised 16 children (long story). Japanese soldiers stormed into their house, but Oma had prepared her children well, particularly her daughters. The daughters took their places on the couches and beds throwing up red vomit into pails and buckets. Oma knew the Japanese had a deep fear of diseases. She knew plants very well and was known for her herbalist skills. Her daughters were instructed to chew on a plant which when mixed with saliva turned red. This mimicked spitting up blood which gave the appearance of a very serious disease. The Japanese soldiers fled and Oma saved her daughters.

These are but a few of the many untold stories of the women's role during this tumultuous time of history. I will disperse more of such in the coming posts. As orchids, these women are beautiful and resilient.

Solute to our precious "Steel Orchids".....

SLAVERY

2009-06-21T11:27:00.000-07:00

No one wants to think or talk about this subject but it is important to acknowledge. Why ? Because it is still happening today in the form of human trafficking ! Us humans never seem to learn. This is an article written by my friend Nancy Ricci. Her ancestry goes back to Suriname in South America one of the biggest plantation labor populations that Dutch colonials established in the 1800's. They were notorious for transporting human lives across oceans to fulfill their labor shortage on plantations and also in their military rank and file. The pain and loss in slavery remains in the collective gene memory through generations as evidenced by this article.

In which a Coconut evokes Memories and Ponderings

June 6, 2008

Just the other day, I was craving for a traditional Javanese dish prepared with freshly grated coconut. I was so happy to find some fresh coconut at my grocery store and could not wait to prepare my Javanese dish!

As I am getting ready in my kitchen to crack open the hard shell of the coconut, I could not foresee that the whole handling and preparing process of my craved after dish, would evoke strong and loving memories of my parents and ponderings about my great grandmother.

Cascade of Memories

A fresh coconut contains water inside of it. When you shake the coconut firmly you can hear the water going back and forth. Before I crack the nut open I make sure to poke a hole with an icepick in one of the “eyes”, drain the delicious liquid, and then crack it open with a hammer in order to release its yummy white “flesh”.

While I watch the coconut break open into two pieces, I suddenly see my mother and father standing in the kitchen of our old appartment in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. My father is cracking open a coconut, while my mother patiently waits, her bowl and grate tool right at her side on the kitchen’s countertop.

Funny how memories are suddenly summoned like that…

As I am releasing pieces of coconut from the broken hard shell, I remember how my father did that too, with a frown on his forehead out of mere concentration. As soon as the pieces are all peeled and cleaned, he passes them to my mother who then starts grating.

Just like my mother I have my bowl and tool ready and I start grating. The movement of my right hand holding a piece of coconut going up and down the grate tool is repetitive and together with the grating sound, my mind is put in a state of ease and I ponder about the family recipe I am about to make.

A written recipe I have not, all instructions have been passed down by spoken word. As I wonder why the recipe has never been written down, I realize that my great grandmother never knew how to read and write. Born in the poorest part of West Java, Indonesia, she never received proper education and remained illiterate for the rest of her life.

My right hand is still going up and down the grate tool, and the pristine white grated cococnut is accumulating in my bowl. In the same speed, questions start to accumulate in my head regarding my family’s history.

Pondering about my great grandmother

In early 1900 at the very tender age of barely 17 years old, my great grandmother was taken against her will to a ship called Djebres & Prins Willem. This boat was destined to sail to a country she did not know even existed called Suriname where she and many other Javanese people were destined to work on the sugar cane plantations.

Was she scared during her journey at sea? Did she make friends during her journey? Did they cry together and comfort eachother, telling each other that everything is going to be allright and that they will return to their families really really soon?

And when she finally arrived in Suriname, South America, what emotions and feelings would run through her whole being? Would she ask her self: “Where am I? Why am I taken here? When can I go back home to my family?”

I pause grating for a moment, hang my head and cry for my great grandmother. She never returned to Java, Indonesia and was never to see her family again as long as she lived.

How I wish I can talk to her now. How I wish I can tell her my ongoing story. I would tell her that I have grown to become a confident, well educated, well spoken young woman. I would tell her that I speak several western languages but only master two of those languages: Dutch and English.

I would tell her that just like her, my parents crossed an ocean to go to a far away country called the Netherlands. I on my turn traveled even further to the United States of America. The significant difference, however, is that neither my parents or myself traveled against our wills. We were free to make that choice ourselves.

I would tell her that her forced travel, trials and tribulations have not been for naught.

The recipe you might wonder..?

I may share little knitting patterns.
I may share pattern tutorials.
I may share my knowledge of knitting.
I may share stories.
I may share pictures.

However, a family recipe that has been passed down for generations… I will share not.

So I just leave you with a photo of beautifully, hand grated coconut, ready to be transformed into a yummy traditional Javanese dish.

Thanks for reading and until the next entry..!

IDENTITY

2009-06-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

Not long ago, I read about a small group of Basque sheepherders who were recruited from Europe to tend sheep in Nevada. No one else in the USA wanted to do the work. They grew in number from 300'ish to several thousand and then petered off when they started to realize it did not make economic sense to leave their home country. This occurred during the early 1960's after Franco's reign ended in Spain. Today exists a thriving tight community of Basque descendants who gather once a year for a Basque festival/family reunion. I was so impressed as I learned more about this group and wondered about my "own people".

It all comes down to identity doesn't it ? We tend to manipulate our identity according to the circumstances in our environment. Call it a political/social/economic chameleon depending on one's situation. There is no denying that most immigrants experience a tremendous drive and thrust towards fitting into their newly adopted country. An incredible amount of energy on the psychological and physical levels are geared toward making it happen in their new environment. In that intense process, the children tend to lose sight of their beginnings - their roots. It may not be on a conscious level as their identity gets lost in the game of surviving.

At a recent dinner party attended by folks with connection to the former Dutch colonies, we agreed about the vast complexity our heritage entails. So many of us are able to lay claim to lineages derived from Dutch, Chinese, American, Swiss, Armenian, Spanish, Belgian, Portuguese, German, African, Arab, French, etc., etc. Because of this complexity it seems to be an everlasting question, who am I ?

There is debate about the term "melting pot" versus "salad bowl" versus "mosaic" - all labels and terms aimed at defining mixed blood and distinct ethnic groups. I don't get too hung up on terminology but documentation seems to demand a system of categorizing and labeling in order to make sense. Some people have a very strong identity such as the Basque people. It seems to be a primordial sense to know one belongs to a certain tribe... not surprising the contemporary explosion of social networks such as Facebook - we all want to be connected and moreover know where we belong.

Family Stories

2009-05-27T23:03:00.000-07:00

[Colonial home in Sumatra 1939]

This photo evokes in me echoes of stories told by my parents as I was growing up. Why is it that we begin to appreciate those stories more after our parents are gone ? The bond my mother had with her parents was so evident as tears welled up in her eyes at just the mention of her mother or father. Her father died when she was 17 years old. He died on the operating table from what sounded like a reaction to anesthesia. She said he went into the hospital and never came out. She was intensely angry at the doctor who took away her father. Her entire life she witnessed a love and affection between her parents which led her to an idyll childhood. Her mother made cotton candy for her birthday parties, her favorite treat. When she was a young woman she saw the night sky lit up with fireworks in celebration of the engagement of Queen Julianna to Prince Bernard in 1932. She said the fireworks cleverly took on the shapes of the engaged couple's heads facing each other.

We all carry with us family stories and legacies that are more precious than any material possession. The Dutch East Indies seems so remote, but it was alive and thriving. As complex as it was with all the social, economic and political layers it was an era embedded in our blood and memory.

Keep those stories alive through your children and their children, etc. These stories are who you are.

Supreme Court Justice could be an Indo

2009-05-25T09:19:00.001-07:00

It is possible that the first Indo could be nominated to the Supreme Court. Read this article from LA times about California State Supreme Court Justice Joyce Kennard. Read article for more details.... Bianca

President should look West for Supreme Court nominee
Los Angeles Daily News - Los Angeles,CA,USA
Born to a Dutch-Indonesian father and a Chinese-Indonesian mother in West Java, Indonesia, she shares with Obama a multi-ethnic, multi-racial background ...

Silenced Voices by Inez Hollander (review)

2009-05-21T04:17:00.000-07:00

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Like a number of Netherlanders in the post World War II era, Inez Hollander only gradually became aware that her family had significant connections with its Dutch colonial past, including an Indonesian great-grandmother. Unlike the majority of memoirs that are soaked in nostalgia for tempo doeloe, Hollander’s sets out to come to grips with her family’s past by weaving together personal records with more general, academic views of the period. Hers is a complicated and sometimes painful personal journey of realization, unusually mindful of the ways in which past memories and present considerations can be intermingled when we seek to understand a difficult past. Silenced Voices is an important contribution to the literature on how Dutch society has dealt with its recent colonial history.

More details

Silenced Voices: Uncovering a Family's Colonial History in Indonesia

By Inez Hollander

Edition: illustrated

Published by Ohio University Press, 2009

ISBN 0896802698, 9780896802698

312 pages

Silenced Voices by Inez Hollander

2009-05-21T03:56:00.000-07:00

This book must be read by all who have a connection to the former Dutch East Indies. It has opened the floodgates to dialogue for many of us who grew up with the memories of war, imprisonment, great loss, pain, displacement and survival. The survivors of war and their descendants must know their pain and their memories are shared. To compound it, our history textbooks has left us out including in Holland. It is like we never existed. When I say "we" I mean not only the Indo people, but the pure Dutch, the Chinese and all those caught between the waring factions in Indonesia during WWII and the dark bersiap period. It has been over 60 years and it is time for recognizition and honor which I believe Inez has been able to craft in this book. My review on Amazon.com states that the atrocities and raw details described in the book are a necessary evil to convey the weight and impact it had on the survivors and their descendants. We need to know. The world needs to know. The time has come.

Click on title to access web site. Also available on Amazon.com

Indos in the USA-Where Are You ?

2008-11-16T15:23:00.000-08:00

Pasadena, California, early 1960's the first Indos, De SOOS club

It is estimated that around 60,000 Indos (Indisch or Dutch-Indonesians) emigrated from The Netherlands to the USA in the early 1960's under the Paster-Walter Act which allowed us to come to the USA outside of the immigration population quota of 3000. I have not been able to verify this Paster/Pastor/Pastore-Walter Act through any of the government archives available on line. If anyone out there have another means of verification please send it my way.

Because Nederlandse/Dutch-Indonesians were classified as Dutch it is unclear as to how many actually landed on U.S. soil. The highest concentration started out in California. However, we know now that we are all over the North American continent. For instance, my family started out in Wisconsin the first couple years and ended up in Washington state because we had extended family there. My father's side of the family started out in Massachusetts and ended up on Oregon. What is your story ? If you'd like to volunteer, please leave comment on what state/country you live in.

Halloween 2008

2008-11-07T23:54:00.001-08:00

Two Jewish guys with their Dutch-Indonesian wives:

Oscar and Bianca, Josh and Priscilla.

(Halloween 2008)

Mata Hari

2008-11-07T03:20:00.000-08:00

Are we related ??? It is reported through the family grapevine that Mata Hari is in our family tree. It certainly provides a new twist in my geneology as my research continues.

Born in Leeuwarden, Friesland, Netherlands by the name of Margaretha Geertruida "Grietje" Zelle 7-Aug-1876, she led a life that was far ahead of her time. Unfortunately her colorful life ended by execution on 5-Oct-1917 in Vincennes, France during WWI. Accused of being a German spy and espionage "Mata Hari" fell victim to her own creation.

After a winding road of a privileged childhood, family disruption, and displacement her adventures started by marrying a Dutch Colonial officer by the name of McLeod. Shortly thereafter they transferred to Java, Dutch East Indies. He turned out to be not such a nice guy and they divorced. She escaped the woes of her miserable marriage by studying the local culture and joined a local dance troupe. Thus, the theatrical persona of "Mata Hari" was created. In Malay it means "eye of the day". Because of her looks (un-Dutch like) she convinced a lot of her audience that she was a mysterious Hindu princess or something like that.

Her "career" really took off in France as a type of courtesan, moving in circles of very powerful men of that era. After her execution her body was not claimed by any family members and was offered to medical research. Her head was preserved in a museum but got lost after the museum moved !!! So many mysteries.... If we are indeed related, it would be quite a story to pass down !

Bali

2008-09-01T09:16:00.001-07:00

Click on Bali title to view video..

Bali is my favorite place on earth. I traveled through the island in 1989 and have intentions to return. My parents went there right after they were married in 1947 on a military assignment. It was not a honeymoon. It was during the Indonesian revolution and my dad was assigned to be part of the stabilizing forces (right after his POW discharge - another story...). At that time there were no Yoga retreats and luxury villas, etc. However, Bali remains to have a strong identity in the face of many changes and the key element is the people and their belief system.

I'm Back !!!

2008-08-31T11:04:00.000-07:00

After some life distractions, I'm finally back on track with this blog/project which has never left my heart. A key highlight was attending a Holland Festival in Long Beach, CA in May which had quite a concentration of Indo families - met a lot of wonderful and interesting folks. It was a family reunion with people I never met !!! Clearly, there's a hunger to preserve the memory of our heritage and to capture the legacy of our parents and grandparents. More stories to come. Glad to be back..... Bianca

What Are Our Occupations ?

2007-10-18T15:59:00.000-07:00

This subject is always fascinating as life has its many twists and turns along the way. People from the former Dutch East Indies and their descendants come from such a diverse background that their work tends to follow suit. Here are just a few samples in my circle. I welcome yours to add to this list:

Environmental Health Specialist
Engineer
Mortgage Loan Officer
Carpenter
Health Claims Processor
Pharmacy Technician
Yoga Instructor
Medical Transcriptionist
Events Planner
Animal Rights Activist
Car Salesman
Banker
Doctor
Auto Mechanic
Nurse
Administrator
Teacher
Author
Chemist
Artist
UPS Driver
Sales Rep
Musician

Oma Brouwer (Grandma Brouwer)

2007-04-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

When my parents first moved to Holland in 1950 from Indonesia they faced much discrimination by the Dutch people. Even though Indonesia was a colony for over 300+ years, the Dutch society knew little about it and its people. They viewed the former colonial subjects as inferior and primitive, even though they had Dutch citizen status and Dutch blood running through their veins. The distinction was the color of their skin and the funny dialect they spoke. Dutch-Indonesians or "Indo"s come in varying shades of brown; cafe latte to dark chocolate and all in between. Many had Dutch last names.

With this background in mind, my parents had to begin a new life in a 3-room flat in Rotterdam with 6 children. Accustomed to servants, a cook and nanny, Mom was lost as to how to run a household, cook, shopping, etc. Our neighbors above, Mr. and Mrs. Brouwer, complained about the noise us kids were making running back and forth and the strong odors coming from our flat (Indonesian cooking). Somewhere along the line Mrs. Brouwer's dismay turned to compassion as she saw my mom struggling with the overwhelming task of daily life. Gradually she became my mom's mentor and most staunch ally. Their bond became so strong us kids called her "Oma Brouwer" and I actually thought she was my grandma or at least an exra one !

Oma Brouwer guided my mom in the ways of domestic management. Laundry day is Monday, market days are Tue and Thurs, etc. She showed her how to set up a household schedule and delegate chores to the family. The boys would fetch the coal for the stove and haul it up the typical vertical narrow Dutch stairway to our flat. She was there with each birth as four of us were born in Rotterdam. Since most of the births were at home with a midwife, the rest of the kids went upstairs to Oma Brouwer's place. She became my mother's rock and anchor in this changing new world.

My most vivid memory took place on a rainy evening. It was a heavy downpour. Our doorbell rang hard & fast. We peeked down the narrow staircase where at the bottom was Oma Brouwer in tears and all disheveled. She was crying, her hair hanging down in strings, her nylon stockings were run and her knees were skinned and bleeding. She had fallen on the pavement walking home. My parents rushed down to help her up the stairs. I was totally in awe. I had never seen an adult cry before and thought "wow grownups cry !".

When it was time for us to leave Holland for America it was a bittersweet goodbye.
Mom said that Oma Brouwer could not hold back her tears, gave us all a kiss and waved goodbye. Mom told me that once a Dutch person is your friend, they back you up 100% and remain loyal forever.

And that was Oma Brouwer's legacy...... her memory has stayed in our hearts after all these years.

How Do We End Up Where We Are ?

2007-03-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

Many of us have traveled down a twisting pathway forged by our parents or grandparents that was shaped by economic, political and religious circumstances. I live in the Seattle, WA area today because of some missionaries who came to Indonesia in 1938. The Reverend R. A. Busby from Bethel Tempel (which still stands in downtown Seattle) came to Batavia (now Jakarta) as a missionary for the Assembly of God. My mother and her family were converted by the Pentacostal ("Pinkster" in Dutch) missionaries when she was a young girl. After fleeing Indonesia in 1948 to The Netherlands, some cousins went ahead of us and emigrated to the USA sponsored by the Busbies of Seattle. We followed in 1962 and eventually in 1964 were sponsored by those cousins and moved to Seattle. Each move was a stepping stone to the next.

Photo on right is circa 1945. My mother is the one sitting properly on the first row far right with the white shoes (age 27). This was a Bible School class in Indonesia.
click on title to access link about the missionaries for further history

Our Furry Companions

2007-03-15T21:07:00.000-07:00

Paco is our little Chihuahua who is pure joy and a wonderful little companion.
Pico is the little cockatiel on my shoulder looking down at Paco. Unfortunately we lost Pico about a month after this photo was taken. He flew away outside. They were just getting to know each other as Paco came as a little 7-week-old puppy (all 1-1/2 lbs!). Animals have feelings and moods. My husband used to give neck massages to Pico (the bird). It got to the point that Pico would nudge him with his beak whenever he wanted a massage. Animals respond to energy. In some of my darkest moments, little Paco sensed my sadness and would stay by me quietly just looking. I consider pets as a gift from God.

The Passing of My Mother

2006-12-25T10:10:00.000-08:00

I lost my mother on December 21, 2006. After a massive stroke almost a month prior, she peacefully passed on to be with her maker. This period of time was both heartwrenching and deeply profound as we exchanged last words and held onto one another. This loss eclipses other losses; a link to my past, my heritage, my roots, a symbol of a bygone era, of another world that no longer exists. Certain objects evoke memories of my Mom and the era she came from: A dainty teacup and saucer. A floral handkerchief with scalloped edging scented with her perfume. A powder puff with her favorite talcum powder. Her Dutch bible. Her pair of "inside" shoes and "outside" shoes - they were identical, but she knew the difference. I miss her very much. I'm very happy we got to make spekkoek together during our last holiday season of 2005. She will live in my heart forever.

Dutch East Indies Geneological Association

2006-11-05T04:32:00.000-08:00

Photo circa 1918 - The baby sitting on her grandmother's (my greatgrandmother "Oma Wilkens") lap is my mother. The two girls on the right are her older sisters (Tante Juul en Tante Ellie) and the two boy on the upper left is her brother Harry and the blond boy is her cousin Max)

"Indische Geneologische Vereniging (IGV)" is the Dutch East Indies Geneological Association. This association is based out of The Netherlands. The database is gleaned from what used to be the Civil Registry of Dutch East Indies for Europeans which was established in October 1828 to end of December 1949. This registry was not taken to The Netherlands after the transfer of sovereignty (Indonesian Revolution). The list of of names is from a series of files and cards extracted from the Civil Registry and kept in The Hague. Fortunately, there is an English version to using this database. Please click on the green title link above. The baby sitting on her grandmother's lap is my mother taken in 1918.

Obscure Fact Series: Chile Connection

2006-11-04T21:47:00.000-08:00

Obscure Fact:
Marie A Hagenaar Vogelzang - Married the famous Chilean poet Pablo Neruda in Batavia in 1930 when he served as Consul from Chile. Maria Antonia Hagenaar was born 5/3/1900 in Djokjakarta, she married 6/12/1930 in Batavia, and she died 3/27/1965. Her father was
Richard Peter Fedor Hagenaar and her mother was Antonia Helena Vogelzang, both were born in Indonesia. The maternal grandmother was Maria Mathilda ten Cate. The ten Cate side is thought to be of Javanese descent. Maria was described as a tall, cold dutch woman.

History of Jazz in Dutch East Indies

2006-09-04T12:59:00.000-07:00

Did you know that Dutch colonists brought Jazz to the islands ? It was considered emperialistic as it was from the West.
Some of the earliest jazz performers were the Indos (Dutch-Indonesians) in the 1930-1940's. Click on green title above for link to article from the Jakarta Post newspaper.

Pasar Malam Besar

2006-05-23T22:15:00.000-07:00

This is me standing in front of the entrance to the Pasar Malam Besar ("Evening Market" in the Indonesian language). As I entered I was transformed by the sounds of crickets and various aromas of spices and flowers.

This is probably the world's largest Eurasian festival in the world. Its roots lie in the Dutch East Indies. Eurasians are the descendents of a mixed breed primarily between the Dutch and Indonesians. It's kind of like a big family reunion and a time to check in with one's roots in the form of dance, music, crafts and of course FOOD ! My husband and I were there in 2005 and really enjoyed it. The series of tents looked like Cirque So Le. One does not have to be Eurasian to attend - in fact, many other ethnic groups attend plus the Dutch and other Europeans because it's so colorful and festive and has great food. It is worth seeing at least once in a lifetime. Click on the green link above for more details.

The Japanese Invasion

2006-05-23T08:55:00.000-07:00

The Japanese invaded and occupied the Dutch East Indies from 1941 to 1945. Many of our grandparents, parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins were in the middle of this occupation. They endured P.O.W. camps, internment camps, torture and eventual evacuation never to see their homeland again. Please click on the green link above regarding the Dutch East Indies 1941-1942 campaign.

Old Wedding Photos

2006-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:00

I just love old wedding photos from the Dutch East Indies. Please share yours if you have any.

Who Have We Married ?

2006-04-30T12:35:00.000-07:00

I think people with roots going back to the former Dutch East Indies have the most diversity- long before "diversity" became a popuplar sociopolitical term. It is reflected in our patterns of marriage. Whether they are a totok (pure Dutch), an Indo (Dutch-Indonesian mix) or any other European-Asian mix or even the Blanda Hitam (African) they sure do know how to make the world go round so-to-speak. Just in my circle we have married Jews, French-Vietnamese, African-American, French, Chinese-Indonesians, Norwegian-Americans, Italian. Other families I know of have married Puerto-Ricans, Lebanese, East Indian, Mexican, Native American. The Dutch East Indies in its hay-day was a microcosm of a United Nations. Please share your stories of the rich diversity of this legacy.

Old Colonial Maps Invaluable for Tsunami Relief

2006-02-08T18:41:00.000-08:00

An article in The Windmill Post January 25, 2006 stated how invaluable old maps from the colonial times of Indonesia (Dutch East Indies) became in helping relief organizations find their way to the tsunami-stricken areas. They are only accessible on the website of the Royal Institute for the Tropics (KIT) in Amsterdam.

Martial Arts - Penjak Silat

2005-10-25T22:16:00.000-07:00

Penjak Silat is a form of self-defense developed out of the martial arts of Indonesia refined by Dutch-Indonesians who brought noteriety to its art form to the Western world.

How Do You Measure Rice ?

2005-09-12T08:03:00.000-07:00

I had an interesting experience the other day in a grocery store which evoked memories of my childhood. I was looking for some black sticky rice. The sales clerk asked if I needed any help. She was Asian in a non-Asian grocey store and we were in the Asian section. She found it for me and I asked her what the ratio was between rice and water for cooking. She looked at me perplexed and shrugged, "I don't know, I've always just used my finger up to the first line". Immediately we connected. My parents did that all the time when they cooked rice and for some reason, it's kind of faded away from me over the years.

The History of Tempeh

2005-08-12T10:19:00.000-07:00

Most of us connected to the Dutch East Indonesia are familiar with tempeh used in Indonesian cooking. It's basically fermented soy. Now heralded as a highly nutritional food even better than soy, it's interesting to trace back its origins.

"Java is still the Mecca of the tempeh world, yet over the centuries, wherever Javanese settlers have gone, they have taken tempeh with them. Today it is widely produced and consumed in Surinam (where 30% of the population is Indonesian), and on the west and south coasts of Peninsular Malaysia. To a lesser extent it is consumed in Singapore, New Caledonia, and the other Indonesian Islands (especially Sumatra). Tempeh is also increasingly popular in the Netherlands, where it was introduced by immigrants from Indonesia in the 1940s."

Click on Title to access fulll article.

Gamelang Along!

2005-08-06T22:36:00.000-07:00

Gamelang is a wonderful musical tradition from Indonesia made of a complex series of gongs. Once your Western ear becomes accustomed to the sounds, it has a soothing trans-like affect. Click on the site, scroll down to the ding dong selections and hear the various tones! Enjoy!

WORDS

2005-08-06T22:22:00.000-07:00

This is a list of some words used in The Dutch East Indies, which you may have heard growing up. Mind you, I'm just an American so welcome any comments for refinement if the interpretation is a bit off.

aduh!: wow! oh boy! yikes!
babu: female domestic servant, like a nannie
betjak: bicycle taxi
blandas: whites (Caucasian)
KNIL: D. Koninklijk Nederlands Indisch Leger - Royal Dutch Indies Army
kokki: female servant, the cook
oom: uncle
oma: grandmother
opa: grandfather
pemudas: Indonesian nationalist fighters usually young men
tante: aunt

Trip Back to The Netherlands

2005-07-22T09:53:00.000-07:00

This June (2005) I returned back to the country of my birth. It was nostalgic afer 32 years. This photo is me overlooking the Port of Rotterdam, my birthplace. Interesting, because now I live in Seattle, a major port to the far east. Guess I was destined to live in ports.

As I entered through Schiphol Airport Customs the official looked at my passport, looked up at me and said in Dutch "Spreek je noch Nederlandse ?" (Do you still speak Dutch ?) and I felt at home right away. To summarize the trip, it was nostalgic and interesting, but upon returning to the USA it made me appreciative for my life here. What I did like about Holland is the strong connection to the colonial history through food, art, literature and the mix of people. I'll write about the Pasar Malam Besar we attended in Den Haag in a separate article - annual Eurasian festival.

Fables and Superstition of The Dutch East Indies

2005-07-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

These are some of the fables/superstitions I received from folks who grew up in The Dutch East Indies.

Clipping your nails at night:
I was told that you will never see your Parents die or when they are dead when you clip your nails at night and I never did until once when I came to the States and I never saw my Parents when they died. First think I thought about. In other areas of Indonesia there might be similar ones with different explanations, like yours and mine with the clipping of nails at night. I don't do it at night anymore except that one time.

Young girls:
Another story from the cook: a girl does not eat the end of the banana (how do you call it really when have a whole bunch, so each end); a girl does not eat the rice at the bottom of the pan; same problem (I used to love it); also don't eat from a plate which is cracked and all that only for girls!!!!! And they might be right; I did all those and still not married. Whether one believes this or not, there are so many things from Indonesia which for some reason or another occur and is attributed to the local beliefs.

Birthday Celebration:
One other thing is that you don't celebrate your birthday before the day itself or later. I have a cousin here who kept taking me out before my birthday to celebrate it with that or her sister-in-law and I fought it with everything I had. She said it was nonsense and keeps doing it.

Fireflies & Nails:
When you sit in the garden on a nice warm tropical evening you might spot some fireflies dancing aroud this way that way. Theiy are the nails of some rich chinese man who became rich by paying his servants too little and treating them bad. You should also know that rich chinese men let their fingernails grow and grow and grow. The richer he is (doesn't need to use his hands for labour, not even writing) the more nails he can afford to let grow. And show that to his social world. But when he dies his fingernails are sent out to do something useful. And of course he doesn't know the concept "doing something useful". So his nails just wander around aimlessly.

Famous People Connected to the DEI

2005-07-21T11:26:00.000-07:00

Jane Seymour, actress: Mother was a nurse, father a doctor in the DEI. Mother was in camps during the war.

Eddie Van Halen, rock singer: Second generation Dutch-Indonesian, born in The Netherlands.

Michelle Branch, singer: Third generation Dutch-Indonesian (mother is Dutch-Indonesian).

Where Are We ?

2005-07-21T11:17:00.000-07:00

The following are statistics from the retirement system in The Netherlands as of 2003. They represent individuals born in the Dutch East Indies who are now receiving retirement. That means those individuals lived through WWII and the Indonesian Revolution, the dark Bersiap period. If you compound the numbers from this initial list factoring the 3 generations of descendants, you can see the widespread diaspora spanning the globe.

Netherlands 51.005
United States 4.811
Australia 716
Canada 617
Indonesia 344
Belgium 335
Spain 316
Germany 240
France 219
Great Britain 135
South Africa 113
New Zealand 97
Switzerland 72
Netherlands Antilles 52
remaining countries 302
Total 59.374

Introduction

2005-07-05T21:03:00.000-07:00

My name is Bianca. I am of Dutch-Indonesian background, living in the USA since 1962. My parents were born in Indonesia under the former colonial system known as The Dutch East Indies or "Nederlands-Indie" as they say in the old country. Mom's (family name Straver) birthplace is Pimatangsiantar, Sumatra (1918) and Papa's (family name Dias) birthplace is Klaten, Java (1913). [The name "Dias" by the way is Portuguese and comes from the former colonial power of the Portuguese before the Dutch took over]. They were repatriated to The Netherlands after WWII and the revolution which gave birth to the new Republic of Indonesia (basically kicking out the Dutch after 300 years) I was born in Rotterdam, The Netherlands in 1955. After 11 years in The Netherlands our family emigrated to the USA. They had been on a waiting list to get a house and got tired of waiting.

Since we left The Netherlands when I was 7 years old, I'm basically American for all practical purposes. However, juggling hamburgers and fried rice and Dutch at home and English outside the home and my tan skin color set me a bit apart from my peers. In the throes of growing up I was never that interested in my heritage. We were too busy trying to fit in.

In a 7th grade history class (many moons ago) the teacher happened to mention to the class that my background was from the Dutch East Indies. Afterwards, a girl came up to me and mentioned that her grandmother grew up in the Dutch East Indies. I was kind of shocked as no one ever seemed to know this part of history. Another time, at work (years later!) a coworker learned of my background and told me when he lived in Egypt as a young boy (he was actually Italian), he remembered seeing the "immigrant ships" come through the Suez Canal in the late 1940's early 1950's and they carried Dutch and Dutch-Indonesian (Eurasian) families. Wow, that one blew me away. So I started wondering how many others are somehow connected to this part of history and where are they ? It wasn't until my early 30's that I started to become more interested in my heritage. Curiosity peaked my interest which led to a journey to Indonesia. I just had to trace my roots and see what this fabled land is about.

In 1989 after graduation from college, I trekked to Indonesia via Japan. This trip changed my life. With a backpack I covered Java, Sumatra and Bali. By foot, by bechek (bicycle/taxi thingy), by bus, by train, by boat and by plane I tried to see all that I could in 7 weeks. There were remnants of Dutch colonial buildings and forts and churches scattered here and there, but clearly this country has its own national identity. The stories I grew up with about plantation life were in the back of my mind as I wandered through this land. Since then, I realize The Dutch East Indies is a bygone era and I've been on a mission to get to know my heritage.

I know there are others out there like me. There are also descendents who never set foot in The Netherlands or in Indonesia, but they know sambal and kroepoek, Oma and Opa, and pannakoeken and other symbols of our heritage.

This blog is a collection of things I've found on my quest. I hope you find it interesting and enjoy reading it!

Thailand Burma Railway Centre

2005-07-05T14:24:00.000-07:00

Many of our fathers, grandfathers, uncles, brothers were POW's during WWII by the Japanese. There now is a museum in Thailand dedicated to those who served as slave laborers on the Burma Railway. So if you ever get to Thailand, check it out.

http://www.tbrconline.com/default.asp?PageID=1

What is The Dutch East Indies Heritage Project ?

2005-07-05T14:03:00.000-07:00

The purpose of this project is to provide information for anyone who has roots in the former Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia). Primarily for the English-speaking world, my hope is to make this part of history more alive for the younger generations in particular.

After 300 years of Dutch rule in the archipel of Indonesia, 1600's - late 1940's, the former Dutch East Indies produced and shaped a system of economics, trade, language, culture and a social strata that leaves a colorful and complex legacy never to be repeated. People of various blood lines, mixed and not mixed, emerged as a result of war and commercial trade; Chinese, Malay, German, Indonesian, Dutch, Armanian, Arab, African to name a few.

There are many other sites available about the history, culture, geneology and mililtary events. Most of the documentation is in the Dutch language and there are some academic papers in English.

Since the project is in progress, data regarding history, culture, military, transmigration, etc. will be sorted out. People are welcome to contribute comments, stories, photos and insights.