Letters of a Javanese Princess

by Raden Adjeng Kartini

A handsome carved kwade covered with gold figures on a purple ground, was in the great hall at the back of the Kaboepaten. All tables, chairs, and benches were removed from that apartment and the floors were covered with a great alcatief.

On both sides of the kwade, which was draped and ornamented with flowers, stood two large copper vases, filled with young cocoanut leaves and flowers. These vases are called kembang majang, and must not be broken at a wedding.

At about half-past seven in the evening, when all of the women guests had assembled in the kwade-hall and were ranged on the ground in two rows, one on each side of the kwade, sister came in, led by the hand of our married sister and our sister-in-law, and followed by a woman who carried her sirrihdoos[4] and kwispeldoor.[5] Sister sat down in the middle of the room, near her family and the most prominent guests. The sirrihdoos and the kwispeldoor were placed next to her only as a matter of form, for Kleintje eats no sirrih; behind her, a little girl waved a koelte.

Sister sat with crossed legs before the gold shining kwade, motionless as an image of Buddha, between the gravely dressed, solemn-looking wives of the native dignitaries, equal in rank to her husband. Tea and cakes were served, every one took a cup of tea and several kinds of small pastries. The bride and the most distinguished guests each had an individual tea-service, and a tray of pastries. It was as though a whole carpet of pastries were spread out before the guests, here and there broken by sirrihdoozen and kwispeldoors of gold and tortoiseshell, of wood, or of silver. The company was composed entirely of married women. We unmarried ones were not there.

You have certainly heard that among the Javanese it is a great misfortune for a woman to remain unmarried. It is a disgrace as well. Not so long ago, in enlightened Europe it was looked upon in the same way; is not that true? So we must not think ill of the foolish uncivilized Indians.

If the bridegroom has a mother, on this evening she must be at the feast of her daughter-in-law-to-be.

Our masculine guests ate with father in the pendopo, while the bridegroom stayed at home in his lodgings.

Sister was so glad when, at half-past nine, the ceremonial was over, so far as she was concerned. She walked decorously and sedately from the hall, through the throng of women sitting around; but as soon as she was out of sight, and safe in our room all the formality was gone. She was again our little sister, our dear happy Kleintje, and no Buddha image. That evening was sacred to the Prophet. In the mosque there was a great slamatan (sacrificial meal, celebrated with prayers); the blessing of heaven was asked upon the approaching marriage.

At that meal, only men were present, our women guests, even the Regents' wives who had come to sister's wedding, ate at home with us.

Early the next morning, there was a stir in the kaboepaten. It looked quite gay, with its decorations of greens and flags. Outside on the highway, there was bustle and noise. The tricolour waved merrily among the rustling young cocoanut trees that bordered the road which led to the house of the bridegroom. In the green covered pasehuisen, two little houses on the aloen-aloen before the kaboepaten, the gamelan played lustily.