The One Ring
Some weeks after meeting at the cafe, Amir finally saw the engagement/wedding ring that Siti had daily worn for the month prior.
He asked, “Oh! You have a boyfriend now?”
Siti gave him a stern side-eye. “C’mon, you know my situation exactly. How am I going to have a boyfriend?”
Amir kept his feelings hidden per usual. Yet his playfulness was awkwardly stilted the rest of that day. As they walked around, Amir might ask, “What about him? Will you marry him? How about him?” Siti’s puzzlement and consternation grew as the time wore on, but she was unsure how to respond. Or even what was happening, really. Then from out of the blue:
“Maybe I should just marry an American girl so I can get a green card. Do you know any single American ladies?”
Siti was absolutely thrown off. She did, in fact, know one or two. But why would he say that? What had just happened?! Was he serious or playing? Her Sunda upbringing and her pride as a mature lady would not allow such betrayal to be expressed easily (or at all). With full composure, Siti casually replied, “If I get an opportunity, I’ll introduce you.”
At the Mouth of Mount Doom
Communications on Whatsapp between Siti and Amir were thankfully kept to a minimum for several weeks. Amir was caught up with exams and Visa matters. Siti went to Saudi Arabia for umroh, something akin to a lighter version of the pilgrimage known as hajj. She had not made any conclusions about what happened between them. Yet what could she do except continue as before? She had done nothing warranting his previous responses.
So it was one day that Siti came to work. She was approached by one of her coworkers. “Siti, there was someone looking for you.”
“Oh? Who was it?”
“Amir. I think he’s waiting outside.”
Siti hurriedly walked down the stairs. Her thoughts alternated between, “Oh my god, why can’t he read the air?”, “What is wrong with you?!”, and, “What does he want?!” Scenes of social fallout from gossip and possible workplace consequences played through her head.
Siti composed herself, exited the front door, and saw Amir standing around outside with some friends. He playfully asked, “Siti’s sembong! Everyone in Siti’s workplace is sembong, ya?” Extremely flustered and unsure how to read the air herself, Siti sputtered, “No… of course it’s not like that!” Wondering what had just happened in their interactions was becoming habitual.
Sembong is hard to translate. It can mean haughty, arrogant, or acting coldly. It could also simply be meant as a joke, as in, “too cool.“ “Sembong” is never a good thing, but its harshness is fluid depending on the context. Thus Siti can interpret this as: (a) “too cool for me” or (b) arrogant, but presented in a playful tone to avoid public conflict. The true interpretation is dependent on Amir’s unreadable mood.
Siti collected herself. She told him, “Actually, I have something for you from umroh. Can you come inside for a moment?
“I meant to go really soon. I’ll just wait out here.”
“It will be really quick, please!”
“No I must go very soon. I’ll wait out here.”
“Ok, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Siti’s calm exchange did not belie the volcano smoldering inside. She was deeply irritated that he could not be at least a little cooperative. All he needed to do was come inside her office momentarily! Now Siti had to give Amir his gift outside in the presence of another whom she did not have a gift for. This was sure to spark resentment on its own.
The hand-off was uneventful on its surface. Siti gave Amir his gift. He thanked her. Her coworker watched in silence. Everyone parted ways and resumed their routines. Yet underneath the urbane veneer lay irreparable damage. The circumstances around Siti’s gift were the final sledge in a building that had been slowly hollowed by inexperience and insecurity.
The Grey Havens
Siti watched some faraway horizon over her steaming bowl of chicken noodles. Her tone held less raw emotion than expected. She had clearly processed some of it before our meeting today.
“So that’s everything, Pak Josh. We don’t talk much over Whatsapp anymore. When we do it’s very short.”
“We’re sorry you went through all that, Siti! What happens now?”
“Well, he will go back to his country for a little while because he has to renew his visa. I want to talk to him and settle things before that.”
“Are you sure that’s worth it? If you want life to be less complicated, it makes more sense to just leave the situation alone.”
“True.. but I think if I never settle it I will always regret never knowing…. Like, I want to make sure I did everything possible before I leave it behind.”
Siti’s experience had been difficult. She had dared to open herself to the affections of another. She had experienced curiosity, hope, despair, then relational limbo. Her efforts had been rewarded with bewilderment and stung pride. The battle between Siti’s self-dignity and her desire to be genuinely loved resumed. Attraction, love, and trust are messy things. It is much easier to chase one’s goals and call it a day.
…“Let’s eat, yeah?”
Food is always trustworthy. Hot soup and noodles succeed where words fail. We ate in silence, a moment of therapy against the uncaring cacophony outside.