Indonesian Gold. Kerry B Collison
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A loving smile crossed his lips as he also remembered Sharon reaching down to retrieve one of the metal bricks, surprise on her face at how heavy such a small amount of gold could be. He’d watched, as Sharon counted the hoard, the tally reaching six hundred and thirty seven bars. The secret cache was worth four million dollars, the war chest his niece would require to rebuild their fortunes.
****
Bandung – West Java
‘Boleh juga!’ Angela agreed that the guest speaker was, indeed, handsome; one of their fellow students sitting behind playfully hushed the pair. Jonathan Dau’s daughter then pinched the soft flesh of her girlfriend’s upper arm in friendly gesture, turning her attention back to the American’s closing statement.
‘…and, it is therefore obvious that mining ventures do, in fact, benefit local communities providing sound environmental considerations are strictly adhered to. The grave consequences of irresponsible mining procedures will have lasting effects on not only current generations, but also those still to come. Today, you are students. In the future, many decisions relating to good-mining practices will fall on your shoulders and I ask you to remember the talk I have given today when you make those decisions, and consider how your future determinations will impact on society. Thank you.’
The hall exploded into applause as Stewart Campbell completed his presentation titled ‘Mining and The Environment’, the students rising to their feet in respect, as their professor moved across the dais to thank the visiting geologist for his address. ‘Cakap amat!’ Siti Rahajo thought that the American was up there with her favorite film stars, leaning forward and whispering loudly for all to hear. Angela pretended not to hear, nudging her girlfriend, Nani, and pulling a face. Siti was unpopular with the other girls because of her promiscuousness – and popularity with the boys. This class was now more than halfway through the four-year course and Siti had already slept with most of the male students during their first semester.
All of the female students were in their early to mid-twenties, an age at which most Indonesian girls would expect to be already married, with families.
‘Why don’t you ask him for a date?’ Nani challenged, sending a titter through the group.
‘Why not?’ the well-endowed Siti responded, standing straight for the boys to see her firm breasts – another reason she was unpopular with the others. Even if Siti had not been loose the young men would still have chased after her, her classical Javanese features and voluptuous figure enough to guarantee envy amongst her classmates.
‘Students,’ their professor called for their attention, the assembly falling silent as the Dean cleared his throat. ‘We have been privileged to have Tuan Campbell talk to us today. He has kindly agreed to return and speak to those of you who are still here for the final semester.’ This was greeted with nervous giggles and coughs from the students. ‘However, our guest has kindly consented to remain a little longer today, to answer any questions you might have. So, please remain seated, and Tuan Campbell will invite you to direct your questions to him.’ The professor stepped back, gesturing with one hand that the floor still belonged to the visiting geologist.
‘Terima kasih,’ Campbell thanked the Dean. Then, addressing the audience, ‘Please raise your hand if you wish to ask a question.’ The seconds ticked away as embarrassed university students searched inwardly for courage to do so, most concerned that they may appear foolish, the remainder unable to think of anything that was relevant to the earlier address.
‘Tuan Campbell!’ a solitary voice rang clearly through the hall. And, without recognition called out, ‘You said in your presentation that mining companies and local communities could both benefit through the exploitation of natural resources?’ Those around Angela Dau were stunned, turning to gawk at the Dayak student.
‘Yes,’ Campbell agreed, ‘I did make that statement.’ He moderated his voice, then asked, not unkindly, ‘You don’t agree?’ Again, all heads turned towards Angela.
‘No, Mister Campbell,’ she replied, her refusal to use the more respectful address not lost on all present. Up on the dais the professor frowned. Angela Dau was one of his finest students. However, her outspoken views around campus had attracted Bakin’s attention, and the Dean was aware that Angela was under occasional surveillance by the intelligence agency. Angela continued, ‘If what you say is true,then why haven’t we seen any examples of such benefits flowing to the indigenous peoples in Kalimantan?’ The room was stunned into silence; and, with the exception of the faint and nervous shuffling sounds, there was absolute quiet.
Stewart Campbell looked down at the pretty student, the fire in her heart reflected in her face and he nodded, slowly, while gathering his thoughts. He was on dangerous ground here, and anything he might say which could be construed as being anti-government could cost him dearly. Nevertheless, Stewart still felt a deep commitment towards the people whose traditional property had been taken, often without adequate compensation – left to become displaced people in their own land. ‘Miss?’ he asked, wondering if being pressed to give her name might make her reconsider her question, ‘may I have your name?’
‘My name is Angela Dau,’ she responded, confidently, ‘and I come from East Kalimantan. My people are Penehing Dayak.’ The pride in her voice instantly moving Campbell, understanding immediately why this student would consider some of the content of his address as provocative. With the surge of foreign investment in the mining sector, it was the indigenous peoples of Indonesian Borneo that had suffered the most.
He smiled kindly. ‘I can understand how emotive an issue this would be, for you, Miss Angela,’ he paused, searching for the appropriate words in Bahasa Indonesia. ‘But I’m certain you will appreciate that it is not my position to enter into political debate as a guest in your country.Your question should best be directed to the government representatives.’ Campbell was saddened that he was unable to engage this young woman in open discussion; to do so would be irresponsible, the consequences severe for both.
Angela Dau felt the heat rise around her neck, ignoring her friend Nani’s warning tugs at her sleeve.
‘You can be confident, Mister Campbell,’ she said, her voice clear to all, ‘that I most surely will.’
The professor stepped forward quickly and addressed his students. ‘I ask that the students refrain from raising issues which are of a political nature.’ The message was clear, the Dean’s interruption saving both Campbell and Angela from further embarrassment. ‘Now, are there any other questions?’
Students turned to look at each other, none now really inclined to speak up. Then, from a girl standing in the third row, ‘I have a question,’ she said, raising her hand confidently. All eyes turned to the student in surprise.
‘Yes, then,’ the Dean wanted this session ended, ‘what is it?’
‘I’d like to know if Tuan Campbell is married?’ she asked.
To everyone’s relief, the student body broke into laughter, Siti Rahajo frowning at the catcalls, brazenly standing her ground. The professor was pleased with this distraction, bending over as if doubled in laughter, then reaching up to slap his guest on the shoulder. Campbell, too, could not resist a smile, addressing the seductive Siti directly.
‘Sudah kawin, tapi belum nikah,’ he answered, causing the students to roar in response, the play on words suggesting that he was sexually experienced, but remained unmarried, a delight to their ears. Sensing that this had gone far enough the Dean moved quickly to bring an end to the session, thanking Campbell profusely for his attendance, before escorting him away from the lecture theatre.
****
Outside, as they strolled across to the car park, Campbell inquired regarding the Dayak student.
‘She’s one