Opa is
the Dutch word meaning "Grandfather". But to me, Opa will always
mean dry roasted peanuts, vanilla thick shakes, and quick oats with
bran, but more... so much more. You know a psychic once told me that my
Opa was one of my guardian angels who stood by me and looked after me,
guiding me in silence. I believe that to be true. I feel his presence
with me and some would say that is strange or even ridiculous, but it
is my truth and I cherish it. Yes I was skeptical at first until the
psychic, Swami, described my grandfather to me perfectly. He started by
telling me the name began with R. Well at a guess you could say Robert,
Roger, Richard, but he did go on to say Rudolphe. He described a tall
striking man with blue eyes, thick grey hair, and a proud yet gentle
air.
My grandfather, my Opa - Rudolphe Andre Dumas.
Born on the 1st March 1917 in Batavia, Netherlands East Indies - the
place now known as Jakarta, Indonesia, Opa was of European descent and
mostly Dutch ancestry. In those days Indonesia was a colony under the
rule of Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands, and the Dutch were very
much considered oppressors and masters of exploitation in a land rich
in natural resources, though this seems a common story where
colonisation is concerned. I know very little of Opa's childhood and
family life save that as a young man, he attended high school in
Bandung, a mountainous city in West Java, and went on to study for
three years in a Batavia university as a medical student.
During his third year of university he met my grandmother, Elizabeth, a
beautiful young girl of mixed race - her father being Dutch, and her
mother Indonesian. She was a year younger than he was, and as far as
the story goes to me, it was love at first sight. Opa had been camping
illegally on private property, and my grandmother had been sent down by
her father to warn him and his friends away. As Opa helped her from
under a fence, he reached out to kiss her... and so began the 57-year
romance of the beautiful Elizabeth, and the handsome Rudolphe. A
romance that I assure you endures still now.
Alas as things go, the man I am sure was destined to be a lifelong
scholar proved to have too strong a rebellious streak, and personality
clashes with one of his professors forced him out of medical school.
Instead he went on to compulsory military service for six months, and
then onward still to attend a Customs Officer course, and in those days
a career in Customs was highly respected. After two years study he
finished second in his course and thus had the choice of where to be
posted. He chose Batavia. There, in October 1940 at the age of 23, he
married his beloved Elizabeth. I once asked her if she had always been
sure he was the one for her, and I remember how she laughed. She told
me that at the time Opa proposed, she was engaged to another man and
had to make the choice. I am really not sure if she knew then what it
was about my grandfather that she couldn't pass up. She told me a story
of the early days of their marriage - Opa was lying on the couch,
perfectly still, and called her over to say "Dickie, this is what I
will look like when I'm dead". I think she got scared then, because her
only thought was "Oh my goodness I have married an idiot". Well, some
idiot he proved not to be.
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