Chapter One - Richard Lewis

"My ancestors came from China, but my family has been Indonesian Chinese for many
generations. In 1965 my grand-father had a supply contract with the military command,
which of course involved kickbacks. That was how one did and still does business.
During the 1965 riots in Djakarta, while other Chinese own shops were burned, military
soldiers kept ours safe. With the rise of Soeharto, our own family fortunes rose. We
became quite wealthy. We owned properties around the world, but Djakarta was always
our home. In 1998, there were mass riots that led to Soeharto's resignation. We thought
that our loyalty to the regime would guarantee our safety, but not this time. The military
stood aside, our private security forces wandered off, and a mob ransacked and burned
our place. I myself was in university in Australia, but my sister was attending the
University of Indonesia, where she thought she was safe." The brows came to a dead
stop. "She was raped and then burned to death."
Tina briefly closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she murmured.
The doctor unlocked a cabinet behind him. Flipping through hanging folders, he
extracted papers from one. "Men Djawa has been in and out of state mental institutions
several times. It would professionally unethical for me to show you her confidential
patient records, but there are some government documents appended. You would need
my permission to look at them, a permission I am denying." The doctor put the papers by
the bronze dragon. He glanced at his watch and opened his agenda book to write,
repeating out loud his words, "Tina Briddle requests to see Men Djawa. Denied." He
closed the book. "Just to aid my memory in the future if needed. I have an appointment.
In half an hour, the patients in her wing will be taken to the back garden. Friends and
family often visit. I've never heard of an anthropologist doing so, but if one did, I would
imagine she would use tact and sympathy. If you will excuse me."
The doctor left the room.
Tina waited a few discreet seconds and then looked through the papers.
The standard police report and welfare agency intake information, including a
photocopy of a Identity Card that gave her name as Parwati. In her ID photo she stared
into the camera with empty eyes. The letters "ET" stamped onto the card marked her as
ex-political prisoner, a second class citizen with limited rights and very limited
employment opportunities, required to regularly report to the authorities.
There was also a photocopy of a typed government intelligence summary dated
November, 1966, dotted with many acronyms and long numbers. Portions of it had had
been blacked out. Parwati was Gerwani, the chairwoman of the Bate Gede branch. She'd
been hiding in Singaradja, where she was arrested based on a loyal citizen's information.
The name of the citizen was heavily inked out. Her husband, was PKI and made secure.
There were two daughters, Endang and Sri, fate unknown.
Parwati was held first in temporary detention at a military base in Singaradja for
two months, then transferred to a center in Tabanan, where she was classified a category
C prisoner. After an escape attempt, she was reclassified to B category and relocated to a
main camp in central Java, where she was held for decades and then finally released
without trail or recompense.
Large trees shaded the garden, with squares of lawn decorated with flower beds.
Men Djawa sat a wheel chair in a patch of sunlight, her hands resting in the lap of her
striped clinic gown as she stared unseeing into the distance. On the bench next to her a
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