Mother(s)-in-Law

Sep 20, 2024

Are you out of your mind, Trules?

You’re going to write a post about mothers-in-law?

That’s like talking about politics and religion with your family around the Thanksgiving table. Like watching the Trump-Harris debate with “friends” in front of the ABC tv screen. Like choosing to defend Israel or Palestine while the demolished Gaza strip is being entirely destroyed. Like rooting for Putin or Zelensky in my grandfather’s town of birth, Kharkiv, in eastern Ukraine. Like cheering for Mohammed, Jesus, or Moses as they one-up each other doing miracles on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Like the U.S. government making reparations to Native Americans, African Americans, and the interned Japanese-Americans for crimes against humanity throughout American history. Like the Japanese themselves apologizing to the Chinese for the “Rape of Nanking”. Like Turkey owning up for the genocide of the Armenians. Like America for dropping “Little Boy” and “Fat Man” on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. You get my point. Entirely contentious and eternally irresolvable.

Then again… all the greatest men throughout history… most probably… had mothers-in law: Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, Hannibal, Napoleon, Ivan the Terrible, George Washington, Abe Linclon, Albert Einstein, the Georges Bush, Gomer Pile. Even me!

That’s right… even late married, poor Trules, has an Indonesian, non-English-speaking mother-in-law, who is probably more than ten years younger than he is, but who definitely looks and acts more than ten years older than he does, but who, under the circumstances, Trules/I have had the good fortune of meeting… just once in my life… over 23 years ago… on the 3rd world island of Sumatra… where my future MIL’s matriarchal Batak tribe were just recently human-eating cannibals (ok, maybe more than just recently!)… when my wife-to-be, Surya, took me to meet her Mom in their simple house by the railroad tracks in 2002... just after she, Surya, came to America in 2001.

Oh boy!

Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
Mother-in-only law, mother-in-law
The worst person I know
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
She worries me so

Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
If she'd only leave us alone
We would have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law

These are the definitive words on the subject… or at least the definitive lyrics, sung by the great Ernie K-Doe, back in politically incorrect 1961.

But nowwwww, you see, Opung (a traditional grandmotherly name for an elderly Indonesian woman, just as “Pak Trules” is the same for an elderly man in graceful decline, me!) — is COMING TO AMERICA, just like Eddie Murphy, The Pilgrims, Surya, my wife, Exsel, my son, and most likely, most of your grandparents.

But that - was quite the meeting! The first, and only one, between Opung and Pak Trules - back in 2002, in Medan, Sumatra, back by the school yard and railroad tracks.

I wish I could fill you in on the dialogue… but there was… none.

In retrospect, I wish it had… never happened… but… it certainly did.

It was clear from the very start, that Surya was potently uncomfortable bringing me “home” to Medan. She had just barely arrived in LA in August, 2001, when suddenly we were back in Malaysia at the beginning of 2002, me on a Fulbright grant, she as my so-called “fiance”, because of the Islamic prejudice against unmarried couples living together (even though Muslim men were reverently allowed to have four wives each, and to have unlimited children with each one).

But once my first four months were spent in Kota Kinabalu on the island of Borneo at an Islamic University just after 9/11, I was posted for a second four months at another Islamic university in the Malaysian capital, Kuala Lumpur, just a short ferry boat ride across the Strait of Malacca (think “spices of the East Indies”). So… it was more or less impossible to resist… Surya’s invitation for a homesick visit back to see to her Mom in Medan.

Now, if you’ve never been to Southeast Asia, Indonesia specifically, an archipelago of over 17,000 islands, all sprawled out along the burning Equator itself, just know that… it is unbearably… hot and humid, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, except - when the monsoons come… and they cool off the air for about thirty minutes.

Well, this day - was not a monsoon day, and… the railroad house had no air conditioner, nor do I remember a fan. Needless to say, it was sweltering… as Surya brought me into the tiny living room and introduced me to Opung.

Opung and I look at each other, like two humans from different species.

We force smiles at each other and Surya tells me to sit down while she…. runs off to take a shower.

I sit. Opung stands. And we don’t… say a word.

Now I know that Opung does not like her daughter being with an ollllld “bule” (boo’-lay, Indonesian for gringo). I know that I am 31 years older than Surya, and that I am “putih” = white. This is not cool anywhere in Indonesia. Young girls who “go with” old bules are thought of in a very pejorative way throughout the country and culture, whether that’s by Muslims or by Hindu-Bali people, like on the island of Bali, where I met Surya providentially in June, 2000.

Still, Opung stands and the future Pak Trules sits… for the longest 15 minutes of my life - staring at each other - not saying a word - because duh… we can’t speak… each other’s language.

In retrospect, I’ve always thought,

What the hell was Surya thinking… leaving me and her mother there… staring at each other… for 15 (hundred) minutes… while she took… a fxxking shower?

Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
Satan should be her name
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
To me they're 'bout the same
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
Every time I open my mouth
Steps right in to put me out
How could she stoop so low
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law

Now, ok… don’t get me wrong… I know that there are lots of guys who just LOVE their mothers-in-law. And vice versa. Hell, I heard Barck praise the hell out of Michelle’s recently deceased Mom, Marian Robinson, at the DNC, while at the same time, diminishing the size of Donald Trump’s crowd rallies and personal member.

Plus… my best friend from childhood, Rick Reaper, married a wonderful Filipina woman, Glenda, and “The Reaper” is considered, by far, “the best son-in-law in the world” by his entire extended Filipina “mishpucha” (Yiddish for “entire family”). They all came to his wedding in Greenwich Village, New Yawk City. Reciprocally, he went to visit his mother-in-law out in the rural village outside Manila. He was right at his wife’s side when his mother-in-law passed away.

Then again… The Philippines is a “2nd world” country, and The Reaper’s entire Filipino mishpucha speaks close to perfect English…

…but we sons-in law each have our own crosses to bear, now don’t we?

Not to say that I don’t genuinely admire Opung. Born “Santia Pasaribu”, she grew as a Muslim in a country with the largest Islamic population in the world. She then had the wherewithal to convert to Protestantism when she married a Catholic man from her Batak tribe (“the Christian compromise”). And as I’ve written before, the Bataks from central Sumatra are traditionally known as a strong and matriarchal tribe. As such, Opung both grew up, and brought up her own family of six children, by working hard - on farms, in rice fields, doing hard manual labor, finally owning her own “convenience store”, at which she worked around the clock until all her children were grown. She had no time to spoil her kids; they had to fend for themselves, by also doing manual labor, along with doing all the house chores, cooking, etc., especially after “Bapak”, Surya’s father, died in a motorcycle accident when she was just a teenager.

But Opung was a strict and demanding Mom. She wielded the family and tribe’s authority with a strong matriarchal hand, and all six kids went to school, did the chores, and helped each other out in every way that was demanded by a poor life with little to no amenities.

So when Surya sees and experiences the “privilege, wealth, and freedom” she’s had in America for the last twenty-three years, she doesn’t really understand when she hears my mostly white liberal, now “senior” friends - criticizing and complaining about the U.S. government, and all the things “wrong” with our country. Not to mention having to hear it constantly from her own husband, yours Trulesly.

She says,

Just let any one of your friends spend just 3 days in Indonesia, growing up the way me and my family did. The heat, the dirt, the poverty, the restrictions of Islam. They would very quickly find out exactly how lucky they are to have been born in America. How privileged and rich they are - compared to practically 99% of the people living in Medan and Indonesia. Your friends are really, really spoiled. And you too!

I can’t argue with her.

Anyway, at this very moment, as I sit here hunting and pecking at the keys, Surya is on her way to the… Albuquerque airport… to pick up… Opung… who, by the way, is arriving with her oldest daughter and thereby, Surya’s oldest sister, Nirmawati (aka “Nirma”). It’s their first visit to AMERICA - ever - and of course, just like Surya and Exsel when they first arrived in LA, neither speaks a word of English.

The plan is…

Come back from the ABQ airport directly to Double Dragon, one of Santa Fe’s only decent Chinese restaurants. Opung and Nirma have been traveling for 22 hours, and they are both more than a little tired and hungry. What do they want to eat? Rice! Noodles. Asian food. Not quite ready to jump into the New Mexican green and red chile, or the “Christmas chillequillas”, or so Surya’s supposes. And as far as giving my advice, or any more opinions on any situation about my wife’s family, I learned a long time ago…. to essentially… keep my mouth shut! Especially, in this case I figure, since it’s only the second time in twenty-four years I’ll be meeting my mother-in law. Besides, I just love the egg foo yong at Double Dragon.

Next, hang around the house for a little jet lag and relaxation. Hey, the ladies are in America for the first time! Show them around beautiful adobe Santa Fe. Maybe ease them into the red or green chile. Why not? New Mexicans eat rice, just like Indonesians, and hell, they both love hot, eye-tearing, spicy food.

Me? I’ve been moved out of the guest room/office… upstairs… to the master bedroom. Bought myself a tiny desk, put it under the window in the bedroom, and highjacked myself upstairs - lock, stock, laptop, and gooseneck desk lamp. That’s where I am now. Hell, the sky is just as blue from up here, with the same billowing New Mexico white transcendental clouds. And, I tell myself, this has been a life-long dream for both Opung and Surya. It’s the least I can do. Right?

Then… road trip, baby! Surya is going to take the two of them, Opung and Nirma, to… the Grand Canyon. And Bryce National Park.

And Salt Lake City. And Las Vegas/Sin City.

And of course, back to her American landing strip, Los Angeles, Caleeefornia.

For about ten days in all, driving her newly-tired, newly-braked, Mazda CX-5. Trip of a lifetime… or so we all hope. I can’t tell you how many double shifts Surya has worked for how many months to make this alllllll happen.

Finally, after this whole 4-wheel, 4-week extravaganza, Nirma will have to get back to work in Indonesia, while… Opung will stay with us at the house… for… 3-4… months!!!!(With a short trip to Utah in the middle.)

What more can I say about that prospect?

Maybe the less said the better?

Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
I come home with my pay
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
She asks me what I made

Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
She thinks her advice is the constitution
But if she would leave that would be the solution
And don't come back no more
Mother-in-law, mother-in-law
MYYY mother-in-law, mother in law

With Love in His Heart,

Son-in-Law,

Trules K-Doe

Mother(s)-in-Law

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