NUMBER 1 • JANUARY 2023 • 10,0 0
Andrea Matthies
immortalizes
Bert (81)
visits his hometown
Bandung
Indische
family
names
in black and white- ED I TO R I A L -
Indo International
So here it is, the first edition of the Indo International.
It sounds like we are presenting a new magazine, but it is not.
It is Moesson International in a new jacket.
F
or those who missed the news of the name
change: we decided to rename the magazine
because we feel that this title will reach a larger international audience.
We have also created a new website:
www.indo-international.nl where you can find
content and our web shop. We believe you will
find this more accessible than the Moesson website.
Or like the story that Wibowo Wibisono wrote about
the 81 year old Bert who went to visit his hometown
Bandung with his daughter, passing on his history.
Other than changing the name, we will not change
the content and objective of the magazine. And that
is to share the stories from and about the international Indo European community and its heritage,
like the ones you can read in this edition.
I hope you will enjoy this edition, and if you have a
story to share, don’t hesitate to reach out.
And last but not least, our cover story. The beautiful
photo project by Andrea Matthies, with Indische
family names in black and white. She immortalized
86 people whose families migrated to the USA.
Photo: Herbert van der Beek
Take the story written by Kayla Smith. She discovered a letter written by her grandfather in which he
shared some of his painful past, a past Kayla had not
yet heard of.
312
Brenda Gruber
Michele Pieters
Family name: MacMootry Birth Year: 1945
Place of Birth: Cirebon, Java, Dutch East Indies
Where did family live after leaving Indonesia:
Netherlands
Date of family arrival to the U.S.A. 1960
Which members of family came to the U.S.A.:
Dad, Mom, siblings, Self
Family name: Pieters Birth Year: 1954
Place of Birth: Den Haag, Netherlands
Where did family live after leaving Indonesia:
Netherlands
Date of family arrival to the U.S.A.: 1958
Which members of family came to the U.S.A.:
Dad, Mom, Self
Richard MacMootry
Perry Mossembekker
Family name: MacMootry Birth Year: 1943
Place of Birth: Cirebon, Java, Dutch East Indies
Where did family live after leaving Indonesia:
Netherlands
Date of family arrival to the U.S.A.: 1960
Which members of family came to the U.S.A.:
self and wife
Family name: Mossembekker Birth Year: 1954
Place of Birth: Amsterdam, Netherlands
Where did family live after leaving Indonesia:
Netherlands
Date of family arrival to the U.S.A.: 1956
Which members of family came to the U.S.A.:
Dad, Mom, self, sibling&
- R EP O R T -
BLACK WHITE
With new generations in the making and Indos marrying into new families,
what will happen to the original family names of the first generations
that moved to the United States? Photographer Andrea Matthies asked herself
that question and decided to capture the families and their original names in black
and white film. The portraits are first published here in Indo International.
By Andres Matties
K
eeping the relevance of our ancestors with
origins in the former Dutch East Indies who
first came to the United States is of the
utmost importance. To preserve our culture
here in the States, we must hold a candle to
their journey by remembering what they endured, their perseverance in how they were
forced to adapt, assimilate, and eventually thrive in
completely new societies, and I think we do a pretty
good job of it.
However, one very important thing that may slip into
obscurity through the making of new generations,
the marrying into new families, and just the way life
goes, are the original Indische family names. The
names represent those who came before us and
endured the trials and tribulations that encompassed life before and after the war in the former Dutch
East Indies. This is something I have often pondered;
the eventuality of the loss of these names, mainly
if offspring are comprised of females only. In our
family, Family MacMootry, my Opa and Oma had
three daughters and two sons, one of which (Ronald)
lost his life during the war at six months of age. The
surviving son, my Oom Richard MacMootry, ended
up having three girls, so right away we know the
relevance of the family name was hanging in the balance. Luckily, one of my cousins, Liana, decided to
give her son, Jaron, the family last name, essentially
saving the name from its American demise.
The reality of other original Indische family names
disappearing with the generations is definite. Thinking about that eventuality sparked my creativity to
begin a project based on family names. I also wanted
the project to be unique in its use of black and white
film. My Opa,Herman MacMootry, was an avid photographer, and he made sure to always make room
for his home darkroom. When he and the rest of the
family arrived in the Netherlands from the former
Dutch East Indies, they lived in a one-bedroom,
one-bath situation in the pension hotel, Hotel De
Schelp in Zandvoort, NL. The fact that there were
five people, and later six, living together in these tiny
quarters posed no problem for my Opa. He would
simply put up a sign saying something like “KEEP
OUT” while he processed and printed his work in
his makeshift darkroom. My Oma, Mom, Oom, and
Tantes knew to steer way clear of that room when the
sign was up or else! So, I consider my use of film as a
medium a direct homage to my late Opa.
In this series of images, you will see various generations represented. Each subject held a sign bearing
the name or names of the original members of
their family who made the journey from a war-torn
Motherland of the Dutch East Indies all the way to the
USA. The subjects become relevant in the captions
where we see their names and where and when they
were born. In some cases, such as with Daniel and
Gerdy Ungerer, they came to the USA as a married
13The Things
WE LEAVE BEHIND
18- READER S SH AR E STO R I ES -
When someone dies, they leave behind a legacy, an imprint passed down
from generation to generation. What remains are the memories of who
that person was, what they did in life, and how they made you feel. For Kayla Smith,
this is how her Opa has existed in her mind since his death in 2006.
By Kayla Smith
P
M
y Opa is the sum of all the little moments and memories – the slippers he
wore, his favorite recliner, his incessant
picture taking, and the way he would
give us all “Opa kisses” by sniffing our
heads. To me, he was a quiet, observant,
hard-working man. He was stoic and, at times, a bit
intimidating. He was all these things and more and
yet I never felt like I truly knew him.
In October 2021, while visiting my Oma, I was sifting
through some of my Opa’s things. In life, he had
been a meticulous record keeper. He held onto everything. From something as mundane as an appliance warranty to something as meaningful as a napkin
from my sister’s wedding. As I looked through
countless documents, I stumbled upon a letter that
seemed important. Although I could not read Dutch,
I saw the date “October 15th, 1945” and knew I had
to translate it. Based on the research I had done
on my family history up to that point, I knew that
1945 was a tumultuous period in the history of the
Dutch East Indies. It was known as The Bersiap and
I wondered if this letter had something to do with
that. Deep down, I hoped that this letter would help
me to learn more about my Opa and, in turn, myself.
Perhaps he had left something tangible behind for
me to find when the time was right.
aul Smith was born on January 24th,
1928, in Kertosono, Indonesia. In 1956,
he leftIndonesia for The Netherlands
with his wife, Winny, and his son,
Harold. In 1960, after having two more
children, Paul then moved his family
of five to the United States, where he
spent the remainder of his life. Paul died on
June 24th, 2006 in Melrose, Massachusetts.
He left behind his wife, three children, six
grandchildren, and one great-grandson. Kayla
Smith is Paul’s youngest granddaughter and
the youngest daughter of Harold. She lives
and works in New York City as a Social Worker,
providing grief counseling to those impacted
by trauma and loss. In sharing this story, she
hopes to shed some light on the historical
experiences of our Indo ancestors that are often buried and kept silent, illuminating a path
towards healing for all generations.
Deep down, I hoped
that this letter
would help me to learn
more about my Opa
and, in turn, myself
19Homecoming
28- R EP O R T -
At 81 Bert Strüwer traveled with his daughter to Indonesia, his homeland.
To revisit the country of his youth, the country where he has know happiness and
hardship. And although this was not the first time he went back there, this visit again
helped him to make peace with the past and experience the trip as coming home.
By Wibowo Wibisono
I
n October 1957, with a spool of thread in his
hand, Cornelis Adelbert Strüwer, or Bert for
short, then 16, stood on the deck of the Pulau
Laut. The half cargo and half passenger ship,
would bring him to the land he had never seen
before, the Netherlands. Slowly, he slackened
the thread until it ran out as a symbol of releasing
the land he was born and grew up in, Indonesia, and
promised to come back.
This year marks the 65th anniversary of Bert’s migration to the Netherlands with his family. Now 81,
this resident of Hoogeveen kept his promise by visiting Bandung in June this year with his only daughter, Virgenie who lives in Zwolle. This was his third
visit to the city he was born in 1941 on Kebon Sirihweg, shortly before the war broke out, from a mixed
German-Dutch father, and a Javanese mother.
It’s also the city he met and fell in love with Jeannette Beatrix Diephuis, or Ita for short, an Indo born in
1938 in Magelang, Central Java, at the Protestanse
Jeugd Club (Protestant Youth Club) where they both
went to Sunday school. After secretly dating for ten
years, they got married in 1965 in Wageningen.
I came to meet this father and daughter at the hotel
they stayed at, and it was going to be our first
encounter since I crossed paths with Virgenie on
Instagram months earlier. Back then, I was interested in her posts about how her Indo father traced his
roots in Bandung. My very first impression of this
family was they were like relatives I hadn’t met for
so long. They are Dutch by nationality for sure, but
somehow, from the gestures and body language, I
could sense that Indonesia is still alive in their hearts
and running in their blood.
The family portrait showing Mr
Cornelis Willem
Struwer and his family (Bandung
)
My very first impression
of this family was they were
like relatives I hadn’t met
for so long
29- CO LU M N -
Patricia Jacob
Kolak
PATRICIA JACOB lives and works in Amsterdam and
is always focused on food. She eats, cooks or writes
about it as a freelance (culinary) journalist and editor.
48
Foto: Amke
M
y mother lived in an Indo-Dutch nursing
home in Amsterdam for about seven
years. She was surrounded by carers with
Moroccan, Turkish and Indonesian roots.
A workforce equivalent to the United
Nations, including of course Surinamese
employees. My mother and her housemates often talked to them about the motherland.
They began conversation sweetly with small talk
about the tropical weather, but gradually a postcolonial struggle ignited.
The main sentence that caused the storm to break
out was short but effective: ‘The Netherlands has
benefited considerably from us.’ Team Indo immediately reacted. ‘How so? You only have bauxite, and
that is worth little to nothing.’ The team captain, an
elderly Indo gentleman, added: ‘They really didn’t
get rich off you. We had much more: oil and natural
gas, but also coffee, tobacco and sugar. What do
you think all those spices got them?’ He already had
the answer. ‘That palace on Dam Square… Paid for
in full with profits from the Dutch East Indies!’ His
teammates beamed. Baffling: were they proud of the
extremely lucrative exploitation of their native land?
But then came the Surinamese trump card. ‘We had
slaves. Do you know how much money was made
from human trafficking?’ The opposition was not
put off. ‘There were slaves in the Indies too.’ ‘Maybe
more,’ claimed the boldest of the bunch. ‘Much less
is known about it. Who knows what time will reveal.’
It was as if they were looking forward to it. Eventually, there was always someone who steered the
conversation to calmer waters – food. From tropical
fruit to exotic vegetables. The fact that you had juicy
mangoes (mangga) and papayas in both countries
was beyond dispute for both parties. But which
country had the greatest banana variety? They
would hit you over the head with those numbers.
The battle ended in a draw. Vegetables did not really
fascinate the Indos, in that area ‘Suriname’ was allowed to win. ‘Sopropo, antruwa, bitawira? You may
well have more cabbages than we do.’
Afterwards there was usually coffee with spekkoek
on the table. Even though kolak would have been
more appropriate. After all, this contains ingredients
that occur in both Suriname and Indonesia: banana,
sweet potato and/or cassava. The coconut milk, in
which the pieces float, is hot in both countries. Kolak
is a fusion of Surinamese and Indo flavors. An ideal
dessert to eat together and make peace.