A FORTY YEAR OLD FRAGRANCE

One of my aunties was Indonesian.

[More precisely, an Indo - a Dutch person whose past lies in the Dutch East Indies, and who may be of a mixed or creole ancestry.]


By saying that, I also betray the nature of the relationship, as any Indo will recognize. Terms such as auntie and uncle, used among Indos, do not actually mean blood relation, but indicate that the person so referenced is of one's parents' generation or older, and close to the family, or the parent of a friend, or even an adult friend of one's youth.

[I made mention of my auntie earlier, in this post: http://atthebackofthehill.blogspot.com/2006/09/boterkoek-butter-cake.html
There's recipe there - you might like it.]


When I first knew her, Auntie Ietje (*) lived in Valkenswaard, in a cottage near meadows on the road to Geenhoven. The cottage no longer exists, having been replaced with row houses in the early seventies, after she had moved to The Hague. The trees along that road are also gone, and there are no more meadows.

When she still lived there I would often visit after school or chess club meetings.
Her house smelled.
Lavender and camphor, sandalwood and citrus.
Those being the fragrances of expensive hand soap, unvarnished wooden chests that keep away bugs, incense that drives out mosquitoes and makes the soul tranquil, plus lemons.


There were usually three or four large fruit-bowls with lemons - in the kitchen, in the living room, in the hallway to the back patio. I believe there may have also been a bowl in the bedroom.

She used lemons for a wealth of purposes, but probably mostly for the memories. Lemons are redolent of warmer climes, and when bruised release a wonderful aroma. A squeeze of lemon over food, or the zest in the dish, can make something pedestrian seem delightful. A twist of peel in the pot along with the leaves makes even grocery store tea taste good and fragrant.
In very many ways lemons are bright spots of sun in the gloom of a Northern European twilight, the fragrant fruits that chase away the wintry blahs, the gilded motes of tropical comfort in the cold. Lemons are warmth, youth, freshness, sparkle.
It is by such import-products that exiles in Holland bring back echoes of a sunnier life.
These are not unusual conceptions, and you likely already knew them. You too probably like lemons.


But what you might not know is that warm water with lemon juice softens hair after washing, and makes it shine.


Auntie Ietje's hair always smelled faintly of jasmine shampoo and lemon.
It was one of those things which took me a long time to realize.
I wasn't even aware of it until I was as tall as her.


As I was outside the building earlier today having a smoke, I smelled that exact same combination - jasmine shampoo and lemon.


I was ten years old again and the nose once more remembered lavender and camphor, sandalwood and citrus.
I do not know who carried that fragrance in her hair, I did not notice her pass by.
Which is probably just as well.
It is best not to deal with ghosts.




(*) Eee-chuh; Hokkien for one or first (Yih), with the Dutch diminutive postfix (-tje) added on. Little first child. The nickname stayed with her for life.