“Then Java is yours. It is the Netherlands even if it is India.”
“Yes; but I am from East Java, near Malang”—a section all of three hundred miles away, off at the other end of the island; but a strong distinction—an extreme aloofness or estrangement—exists between residents of East, West, and Middle Java, and between those of this island and of the near-by Sumatra, Celebes, and Molucca, all Indonesians as they are, under the rule of the one governor-general of Netherlands India, representing the little queen at The Hague.
Often when we spoke of “India” or “southern India,” or referred to Delhi and Bombay as “cities of India,” the Hollanders looked puzzled.
“Ah, when you say ‘India,’ you mean Hindustan or British India?”
“Certainly; that is India, the continent—the greater India.”
“But what, then, do you call this island and all the possessions of the Netherlands out here?”
“Why, we speak of this island as Java. Every one knows of it, and of Sumatra and Borneo, by their own names.”
The defender of Netherlands India said nothing; but soon a reference was made to a guest who had been in official residence at Amboyna.
“Where?” we inquired with keen interest in the unknown.
“Amboyna. Do you in America not know of Amboyna?”