culture

I am a woman who is raised in the Netherlands, but my roots are in Indonesia. Both my parents have "mixed blood". Their ancestors came from the Netherlands, Indonesia, China, Switserland or Austria and one of them from the Caribbean area. Our family is emigrated to the Netherlands in 1955. We travelled by ship, that ship was called "de Groote Beer" (the big bear). At the time of our removal, my father was very sick. He got a very severe disease during war. He and his brothers worked as prisoners of war during the Japanese occupation. My father died during that long trip to Holland. When the ship was heading Aden, a place in the south of Jemen, he was taken off board the ship. In Aden he is brought to a hospital, because he was too sick to travel on. My mother had to move on with 4 little children, my two elder sisters, my elder brother and me, a baby of 7 months old. That must have been a hell of a time for her. Later she got a message from the Red Cross that my father was deceased. So she had to raise her children on her own in a strange land and she also took care of her parents who came to live with us. She has taken care of them untill they both died. That is a deed of respect that you don't see often in the Dutch society.

my father and mother

Willem Burchart Juta 1928 - 1955 ******** Elvire Geraerds Thesingh 1926-1999

My mother was a child of a Dutch father and an Indonesian mother. Her father, my grandfather had a rubberplantation. When my mom talked about the plantation, she always called it: "the company". You could hear in her loving way of talking that she had many fine memories about that time. They had lots of pets like dogs, cats, chicken, even a little deer with three legs (one leg was shot off by accident) and a little pig that was named Boy. My mother was the youngest child of her parents. Her brother was 20 years older than she was. And her sister was 15 years older. My father had three elder brothers and two younger sisters. My father also had mixed blood. His mother had a Swiss or Austrian father and one of his grandfathers came from one of the Caribbean islands. And there were Dutch and Indonesian ancestors. I once had the intention to find out about my family tree, but I gave it up as there were too many problems in tracking birth dates. In the East they were not exactly secure in registrating those things.

pictures of nature
When we arrived in Holland in the beginning of 1956, we were lodged in a boarding house, together with other families who were repatriated. The boarding house was located in Hilversum, a beautifull place in the heart of Holland, we lived in a lane with big trees and near a forest, where we often went for a walk. I have warm and loving memories about that time. I remember the big big hollow tree in the forest, the kitchen in the boarding house with those typical spicy fragrances of the east, the lovely garden, our room on the front side of the house.The house looked a bit like a little castle. Every year I go to Hilversum, shopping with my kids and we always go to that lane where I used to live, the Rossine lane.

When I was little I often asked my mom why we were moved from Indonesia to the Netherlands and she always said: "We were forced to." I never understood why. And my mother couldn't explain it to me, she must have thought that I was to young to understand. And I think she was right at that time. But the history lessons at school never learned us much about the colonial time of Indonesia. We learned about the VOC and that kind of stuff, but never about the political situation in Indonesia afther World War II. In later years I read some books in the library about the colonial time of Indonesia. And in 1981 I went to Denver with my former husband and our little daughter. We went to see my aunt, a sister of my father and she has told me much about Indonesia and the time of the Japanese occupation. My mother never told me so much about that period and I can understand that now, because she has seen things during war that were very traumatic to her. I also read a book that used to belong to my mother. The autor was Johan Fabricius and the title is "Setoewo the tiger". It is a story about a Dutch engineer who is hunting a maneating tiger. This book describes the political situation after World War II in a very touching way.

tigers always intrigued me

In the Netherlands there are lots of coloured people these days. We have all kinds of nationalities living here. People like me from Indonesian/Dutch origine do not attrackt the attention of the locals anymore. That was different when I was a little girl. We didn't have immigrants from Turkey or Morocco at that time. Some parents had the habit to react strange on my appearance, a bit hostile sometimes. I remember a time that a mother of one of my girlfriends didn't even talk to me when I was at the door! But I also have a good experience with another girlfriend. Her mom was a very warm and loving person and she was very kind to me when I was playing there. That girlfriend is already deceased, but I will always remember her mom who has a special place in my heart.

I am curious to hear stories of other people with a mixed culture. I would also like to publish their stories. Maybe it will contribute to a more lenient society. If someone feels the need to react, please send me an email renyjuta@hotmail.com