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Between the Bars

Between the Bars H E R S R I S E T I A W A N During my second year of imprisonment on Buru Island, I was among those who had to "ride the Honda," jail slang for coming down with malaria. I felt quite wretched. For about a month after the first attack, I could see no farther than one meter. After the second, I lost sensation in my left leg for about three months. Once, when my fever had just broken and I was in a semiconscious state, I vowed to the mates who had gathered around me: "I am not going to die now! I will live to see how all this turns out." It hadn't yet crossed my mind that one day--nearly eight years later-- we prisoners would actually be returned to Java. I had imagined that we would be left to die, one by one, till all were gone--consumed by old age, the harsh environment, and physical and spiritual exhaustion--and that, with the sinking of time, history would gradually forget us. I also imagined, though, that in the years to come, when historical memory had begun to dim, time through its own inattentiveness might present http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Between the Bars

Manoa , Volume 12 (1) – Apr 1, 2000

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2000 University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x
Publisher site
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Abstract

H E R S R I S E T I A W A N During my second year of imprisonment on Buru Island, I was among those who had to "ride the Honda," jail slang for coming down with malaria. I felt quite wretched. For about a month after the first attack, I could see no farther than one meter. After the second, I lost sensation in my left leg for about three months. Once, when my fever had just broken and I was in a semiconscious state, I vowed to the mates who had gathered around me: "I am not going to die now! I will live to see how all this turns out." It hadn't yet crossed my mind that one day--nearly eight years later-- we prisoners would actually be returned to Java. I had imagined that we would be left to die, one by one, till all were gone--consumed by old age, the harsh environment, and physical and spiritual exhaustion--and that, with the sinking of time, history would gradually forget us. I also imagined, though, that in the years to come, when historical memory had begun to dim, time through its own inattentiveness might present

Journal

ManoaUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: Apr 1, 2000

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