Susan LaffertyI dropped off a load of ironing at the press-wallah in our Delhi neighborhood and admired his two parrots that were hopping around on the charpai (rope bed) in front of his tent. How do you describe this to friends in America who’ve never walked a street in India?
The day ash fell on Surabaya in 1963 and turned day to night, I hardly noticed. Bali’s Gunung Agung had erupted—one of the largest, most devastating eruptions in Indonesia’s history—but my nose was in a book. It was only after I reached up to turn on the lamp that I realized it was pitch dark outside early on a Sunday afternoon.
The early 1960s in Indonesia were years of political upheaval. The Communist party was strong and growing in power. There were protest marches in our city against Malaysia and against the British.
I remember the air raid drills in Surabaya when I was 4 or 5 years old. The siren would blow and every light had to be turned off. We sat in the dark until the siren blew again. If it happened during dinner time, Mom put a sock over a flashlight and fed my baby brother by its faint glow.