But for the Shortcut…

I would not have met two run-away Indonesian slaves and helped them

Photo by on

I was doing my weekly shop, with the pram. Town was bustling with tourists, and I was in power-through mode and took the shortcut through Centra supermarket. I did a double-take, registering that Centra had created a new sit-down coffee shop, and then I did a triple-take because I spotted two young men sitting in it that just had to be Indonesian.

“Apakah kamu dari Indonesia?” I asked them, and one replied

“Can you help me please?”

I made my way over and sat with them. They were indeed Indonesian, from Central Java.

My second mother tongue is Indonesian, having picked it up as a young child, and these two Javanese lads preferred Javanese, but we could chat just fine in Bahasa Omong.

Yuti did most of the talking, while Suroto looked to be in shock, for he said barely a word, and unlike Yuti, did not seem to register the extreme unlikeliness of an Indonesian-speaking local finding them in their hour of need.

“We were slaves on a Spanish fishing boat,” explained Yuti. The boat stopped here yesterday, and me and Suroto ran away. That boat, no pay, no food, work all the time, no sleep. Last night, we slept on the street, in a doorway. Hotels all…