1. The Keris Pusaka

Uncle Frans is a nice Indonesian guy and usually well dressed. His behavior is very quiet like with most people from his generation, he's very kind and helpful. This was not always the case. In his youth he was a bit wild. He earned a lot of money in the restaurant were he started as a young helper and became a famous chef. It didn't take long before Uncle Frans got an offer to start a restaurant in Amersfoort, Holland together with his nephew, as equal shareholders. Before he went to Holland an Uncle gave him an old Pusaka Keris. He was told exactly how to take care of it. Grateful Uncle Frans took the Pusaka. The restaurant was a big success. Uncle Frans married a Dutch wife and got a daughter and a son.

Many years later he went back to Indonesia to visit his family. In the house of his Uncle Boetje he saw "his" old Pusaka Keris. "Did you have two identical ones?" Uncle Frans asked surprised. "No, but since you never bothered to treat this Keris well, it came back to me," his Uncle said. At that moment Uncle Frans remembered that years ago in Holland there were months of strange nightly sounds, as if someone was in the corridor. But there was never someone to be seen. The lamplight's swung from the ceiling, without a breeze. It gave Uncle Frans sleepless nights.

The unexplainable sounds gave him goose pimples and he lost pounds from sheer fear. Never did he find out what caused them. After a year the noises stopped. Uncle Frans got his rest and gained weight again. After he told all this to his Uncle Boetje, he could explain what had happened. Uncle Frans was very hard spoken to: "A Keris Pusaka is not an ordinary dagger. Generations of family honor and respect for the ancestors and the keeping of our century old traditions are personified in this Keris. A Keris Pusaka lives! An unrespectable treatment of such a Keris is absolutely intolerable. Because you treated our Pusaka so badly, the Keris came back to me. Because here he gets treated well, the way it should be." Uncle Frans dared to ask, "How can this Keris get to Indonesia by himself?" A bit angry his Uncle said, "My God, Frans, I just gave you the explanation, what do you want more? Two follows one! You're not stupid are you?"

Back in Holland Uncle Frans went to the box, which held the Keris when he got it from his Uncle Boetje. It was at precisely the same place were he left it. And the red ribbon still was wound around it the way he had left it. Uncle Frans had never taken time for the Keris. He opened the box. The red velvet cloth was still in it, but the Keris was gone. Nowadays Uncle Frans lives from his pension. That he didn't take care of the Keris then, he still regrets it. Years ago he bought a Keris at a market, which he takes care for and treats according to tradition. "I will try to bring ‘the spirit' of the Pusaka in this Keris, for my son. And maybe, if my son takes over the tradition, maybe then Uncle Boetje will give ‘our' family heirloom to my son."