1.


Walk through Semarang


I hit the corner round of the Randoesarie and for me lies the Boeloeplein. With the residents house, the music tent and the building of the Dutch Indian Railroad society with on both sides of the entrance the high towers. For me from most sharply the perspective self closed of the long Bodjongweg with always smaller nascent, notwithstanding that the distance yielding assembomen. Left the sidewalk and behind that, deeply in their large furrow estate, whitewashed distinguished houses with broad open furrow galleries. On the right-hand side of the infinitely appearing away something well a tram job must be and behind that a slokan with wooden bridges about it to smaller houses that sums closed together stand. High telephone pole with under each other whole row glaze insulated pot. Then, suddenly, the large surprise. Cheerful belgeklingel does him look back. He must well never before a tram saw then on a plate, for surprised looks at he the groengeverfde almost square loco-motive that pulls a few wagonnetjes behind self. The stoomtrammetje that him single years later on each tomorrow to the Bodjongse H. B. S. would ride. The clear belgetingel, the light grey smoke, wegkrinkelend from the low chimney between the branch and leaf of the assem bombs, an image at which he yet a lot of years later, when the romanticism of steam train and tram already long by the sober, quietly running away electric means of transportation driven away was, often would think back. What must my walk spike be furtherer struck on its first research institution along the really no longer than two kilometers long Bodjongweg?


At the sidewalk side certainly the in that days through forever thirsting for Semarangers sore valued bierhal Wane Siau Touch with lips. More however yet the taartjespaleis Restaurant Smaber. With on the brick terraces at the street side iron chairs round the empty beer barrels, where, collected kotta which the heat already asked tangible became, probably all thirsty behind a cool drink sat. Later on will he there self often and with graagte bite in fresh cream horns and innumerable glass Ús-pasra empty spoon plane ice with rozen-, vanilla, assem- or chocolate syrup. Yet what further down it in its eye large and first name Hotel du Pavillon, a lot more properly really than that binnenlandshotelletjes that he yet only had known. Then came just past the hotel as a large surprise, the aloon-aloon. It is not impossible that he is be to sit about it just in the grass, in the shadow of an assemboom there are thirst with a glass Ús-poeter, exchanged for a roodkoperen gobang, that he found will well presumably in its trouser pocket, to satisfy. Not long after that, when be good father him had fortunately made with its first bicycle he here yet often would return. There in the cool noon on its belly in the grass lying look at the soldiers from the tangsi, that trotted it cheer and sweat behind the football. Only how many spannender were the real competitions of the rivals Go Ahead and M. O. T. of which he enjoy will in its H. B. S. -. Go Ahead with the brothers Kruythof and the both Priests, the Hartens and Baer of Slangenburg. And the dikke Motspeler Rye, through we he himself rather once against the green grasmat ended up.


But the aloon-aloon owned yet other attractions. You had that the always just interesting pleasant Pasar Djohar. Where in the kraampjes and stalletjes so much most desirable lay displayed, that you well not buy could, but that you to hartelust wanted to look at and feel. Shiny pocket knives from Sol - maggot in Germany - with jumble skilful tools in it. Dikke watches, system 'Rosskof" that only a ringgit expenses. Brass tobaccos boxes with a mirror in it, everlasting leather belts with shiny S-vormige and in which you fall sewn on buckle already values would be able to store. Mondharmonica's, tjap Hohner, spin of djamboehout and karbouwehoorn, fur color impress from the farmer war, on which gloomily got the rooinekken invariably on their of the Pieter Marissen. Bones cigarettes habits with a whole small magnifying glass it through whose you a muscle nude lady wanted to admire. Over that Pasar Djohar, I am not yet uitgebabbeld. You saw there always rondneuzende soldiers women from the tangsi. Doodbedaarde Chinese nonja's, often with sparkling jewels in the ears and dikke golden bracelets round the wrists. A single time saw one of the geisha's from the houses of plezier on Djagalan. That sat they on a row in fur color kimonos sweetly smiling and elegant her fans handle on the klandizie to wait. In through over ropes hung sarongs of each other separateen shacks not sat the batikhandelaars. hung there Always that to describe batikgeur. Wonderful warm colors had the kains, the slendangs and headscarves from sovereigns country, Cheribon and Pekalongan.


These everything, the quite own atmosphere, the calm business of pasargangers and sellers - how much is more warmly this everything not than the shouting of the position workers on a national market - declares probably about which I also in mijnlater live yet so gladly wandered around over the pasars in the places where I lived. Behind the actual pasar, in the open air, sat the rombengans, the bric-a-bracs of the east that jumble interesting old junk sell. Dented brass carbidlampen, old Daisy-windbuksen gilt petroleum hang-and wall lamps, yellow become and through fly bespikkelde plaster bustes of bite courts, Wagner and Liszt and parent west engravings in zwarthouten frame. Sums also pile old periodicals, before them a prick of the hand through a local leesgezelschap. Also here neusde you done gladly around. At the west side of the aloon-aloon lay the cities garden, in that summon center of entertainment for them, before who the association too properly or too expensive was. In the music tent played on saturday evenings mostly the military band from the tangsi. Then you could from children with their more older see walk around or round the iron tables see enjoy a bullet bottle lemonade or an ash-parsa. Sums sounded a spicy Souzamars from the brass horns, a melting Kalif of Bagdad or something dreamily from Hoffmans Erzńhlungen. If it dance music to best was given, waltzs and polka's lanciers or pace-the-quatre or also well the pace imported cakewalk, come you the parent years of the H. B. S, the fames of Sine Nomine, the theatre association, and Go Ahead see skip running with their ,,keetjes'.

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