The Fifth Season. Kerry B Collison
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agree to their burial. There, a number of local female parishioners had gathered, to prepare the bodies for burial.
Lily’s mother had been amongst the volunteers, and had insisted that her daughter accompany the women whilst they carried out their traditional preparations. The corpses were washed and cleaned where practical, injected and painted with formaldehyde, then dressed in cloth. When Lily first entered the chemist’s storage room she avoided looking at the bodies. The acrid smell of chemicals assailed her nostrils, but she resisted the temptation to flee. As the minutes dragged by, her stomach settled and Lily reluctantly went about assisting her mother, surprised with herself that she had found the strength to remain. Within the hour, the experienced women had managed to complete their tasks and stood by the corpses, admiring the results of their labors.
Lily wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist and, glancing across the room at her mother, she sighed. Lily desperately wished that her parents would now leave this hostile environment and travel with her to Jakarta, where she lived with her uncle while preparing for university.
Sadly, she realized, they would not leave their community, unwelcome as they might be. Generations of their family had lived in East Java since fleeing China more than two hundred years before and had developed strong ancestral ties with their new land.
* * * *
Originally, Lily’s family name was Ong. They had been obliged to adopt an Indonesian name as part of the assimilation process required by the New Order regime, which had come to power in 1966. Although born more than ten years after the holocaust, Lily knew that some half a million people had died during the two years following the abortive coup. She also knew that her race had been cruelly targeted by the indigenous people, who accused the ethnic Chinese of involvement in the communists’ attempt to take control of the government.
Vicious rumors had spread claiming that her people were responsible, at least in part, for the kidnap, mutilation and murder of the nation’s leading generals. The resulting cleansing campaign spread through the archipelago, striking fear in the hearts of all who were of Chinese extraction. Eventually, once the new President had been firmly ensconced at the nation’s helm and the blood-letting ceased, many of the Chinese who had fled the horrors of the Sixties returned, bringing with them capital the new government so desperately needed.
Lily accepted that the Chinese had prospered under the New Order and, softened by time, there were occasions when stories relating to events of more than thirty years ago often seemed exaggerated; almost fabrications. Having moved from the rural community to the exciting, sprawling metropolis of Jakarta to further her studies, she could see no evidence anywhere to support such stories. There, she discovered, the Chinese were influential, and extremely successful. She was delighted to learn that even the First Family had developed close ties with her race, and Lily, as did her peers, believed that this relationship virtually guaranteed all Indonesian Chinese their ongoing safety.
In Jakarta, Lily discovered that racial discrimination, although evident, was generally ignored due to the realities of commerce, and she had eagerly assimilated to the exciting conditions, captivated by city life and the metropolis’ amazing entertainment facilities. Pleased to have left her provincial surrounds of Situbondo, and the growing ethnic tensions now prevalent throughout the countryside, she undertook to work diligently, hoping, that upon graduation, her uncle would provide the opportunity for her to remain in the capital.
Now, she regretted having returned home for the Christmas holidays.
Memories of her childhood and school, when she had been subjected to fear and humiliation at the hands of discriminatory groups came flooding back the moment she had stepped down from the train. On those all too frequent occasions, she would return home from school, her face wet with evidence of tears. It had been difficult and demeaning to follow her mother’s advice, to ignore the insults. Lily found it impossible for the hurtful racial slurs and intimidating language so often encountered in this small, isolated community in East Java, not to leave some scars.
For Lily, shocked by the minister’s death, the evidence before her only reaffirmed her belief that racial hatred for the Chinese was more than a passing phenomenon. This perilous culture of envy had spread over the centuries, its origins dating back in Indonesian history to a time when her people had been given special status over the indigenous by the Colonial Dutch. Now, that legacy had all but disappeared, displaced by deep-rooted tribal animosities which lurked dangerously close to the Indonesian society’s fragile surface. It would seem, she felt disconsolately, that contrary to what the nation’s leaders would have the international community believe, there was, in fact, no unity in diversity; at least, not in this nation of more than three hundred ethnic groups, each clamoring for recognition and autonomy from the Javanese.
* * * *
Lily glanced over once again at her mother and smiled weakly, wishing she could escape the demanding duties and stuffy conditions. Since word of the carnage had swept through the small country town, not one Chinese family dared venture more than a few steps from their homes, most of which were situated above the endless rows of shops they controlled. Even the iron-barred windows had been locked firmly shut and, for a fleeting moment, Lily feared that she might faint, struggling to control her rising fear in the hot, humid, suffocating atmosphere where the bodies now lay together, awaiting burial.
‘Lily, go outside and get some air,’ her mother demanded, and she did so, not wishing to spend any more time in the room than was necessary.
The smell of formaldehyde had permeated the room, her clothes and hair, causing her discomfort.
‘I won’t be long, mother,’ she replied, thankfully, then smiled weakly before escaping the smell of death which she knew, would require time to wash from her memory.
Once outside Lily squatted on the footpath, bent her head forward, and drew long, deep breaths filling her lungs until the giddying effects threatened to exacerbate her nausea. Slowly, with one hand against the concrete wall to secure her balance, she rose to her feet and remained still for some minutes until assured that the panic attack had passed. At that moment, a truck rumbled past, the driver blowing the horn unnecessarily just as the vehicle reached the point where Lily stood recovering her composure, choking in the wake amidst billowing clouds of dust.
Her pale face in no way reflected the anger she felt inside, not just towards the inconsiderate driver, but also with having to live in constant fear simply because she and her family were of Chinese extraction. Lily had wanted to wave her fist angrily, but instead, had merely wiped her face with her hands. Remembering, suddenly, where these had been, she struggled to prevent the flow of tears which threatened and quickly wiped her face again, this time with the back of her arms.
Lily Suryajaya peered down through the provincial backwater’s commercial district. The pot-holed, dusty street, lined on both sides with aging two-story multi-purpose shops and dwellings, caused her to sigh. She counted the number of days remaining before she would return to Jakarta, wondering if she could last. She was anxious to leave, and this impatience was further fueled by the knowledge that her uncle there planned to move into new accommodations within the following weeks, where they would all enjoy access to the condominium’s private facilities. For Lily, this meant time in the swimming pool. She tried to remember when she had last been swimming, and was surprised to discover that it had been more than three years.
Depressed by her surrounds and too frightened to walk down the street alone, Lily remained sitting outside the chemist’s shop, and passed the time contemplating her future. She prayed that her education would provide the means for her to escape her humble origins, and find permanent employment away from the angst and racial discrimination evident in the provinces.
Sitting alone on the footpath she suddenly became anxious and decided that it would be best she return to her parent’s shop further down the street. Although reasonably confident that she would be safe to walk the distance alone, considering events of the past days, Lily decided not to take the risk. Reluctantly, she took one, long, last breath of fresh air and strolled back inside to see if her mother had finished and would accompany her home.
Within the hour Lily stood