Category: Indo of the month 2018

Hi Everyone!

My name is Jenn Meijer (now Spiller…as soon as I officially change my name) and I am happy to be proud of SoCal Indo! I originally am from Orange County (hometown Huntington Beach). In High School, I moved to “the bay” and have been here for 15 years. Even though I am in the San Francisco East Bay now, apparently according to some, I am still always the Southern Californian. I currently work as the Sr Exec Asst for the plant management of a biologics plant in Hayward CA. We are a CMO that produces biologic components for many different companies. While not at work, I enjoy “road trippin’” to the coast and the mountains, some of that new age-y stuff ….and art!

This year has been a banner year between loving my job in science (will get to that in a moment) and just some really cool stuff! I joined in with musician VT100 some and friends in a new art group called FILMA out of Oakland…FILMA had it’s first show in June. I also organized an art show with the help of another set of friends at Tom Franco’s Firehouse Art Collective studio, Lottie Rose Art House. (Yes, James’ brother).

So……Where does all this artsy smartsy stuff come from????

Well…..I have to give my Indo Side credit for that! WE are a colorful people with a beautiful culture. We go interesting people in our crowd of the likes of the Van Halen Brothers, the Thielmann Brothers, Mark Paul Gosselaar,

Rev Ike (I looked it up) one of the Pussy Cat Dolls, Michelle Branch, ICANN rep (my dad) Roeland Meyer and (a cousin of mine) the actress/producer Jennifer Babtist. Most of the other Indos I have met are also just as brave trail-blazers, gorgeous, intelligent and talented!

My Indo heritage comes from my grandparents. Both my grandparents are Dutch Indonesian: Martin Meijer grew up on Java and Martjie Babtist on Borneo. Both my

great grandfathers came from the Netherlands. The story that I got is that great-grandpa Meijer and great-grandpa Babtist were good friends. They both worked for the dutch military…..I think great-grandpa Babtist was some kind of higher-up general(?) Also heard both families dealt a lot with ship/weapon(?) design….with the Babtists also dabbling with music and art..

Aha!!!! This is where the art and science stuff come in! After WWII, and after the “repatriation” back to Holland, Grandpa Meijer joined the Dutch military then my grandparents got married. Then they decided to move to the US with their 2 children at the time (Tante Marjolein & my dad). My Uncle Mike was born in Southern California. INS screwed up our last name and the spelling got changed to “Meyer”.

Upon coming to the US: Grandpa Martin got a job in aerospace with Rockefeller and helped design the B-1 Bomber. My Uncle Mike currently works as an engineer for GKN. My dad started off at Hughes Aircraft doing satellite communications and continued onto the internet and becoming a founding member of ICANN in the 1990’s. It kinda makes me feel proud to also be in the science field somehow to keep this up.

And now the art thing: As I mentioned, I was lucky to do some art projects this year. I have a cousin back in the Netherlands in Els DeGroot – she does fantastic photography, with a piece featured in an official building in Belgium. I also have another cousin Manon Babtist who creates beautiful paints. My Tante Marjolein does watercolors and runs White Rabbit Ranch Art Studio with her husband Billy in Nevada.

I would like to end this note not just on a ramble about me, but a “high-five” to all of us!!! Besides having some really cool relations, I am just so proud to be Dutch Indonesian or INDO !

We came here (sometimes with nothing and nobody) and made something out of ourselves. We are not fully recognized in the US and have no identity in the media, but we have more of a sense of who we are and where we come from than some other groups. We know who we are and what we can do (anything!) and despite how others may try to influence or change us, we usually can still be true to ourselves and values.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS INDOS 🙂

Hi there, my name is Carl Böker, born in 1944 in Batoe, Malang, Java, Dutch East Indies. My Grandfather (father’s side) and my father served in the KNIL (Koninklijke Nederland’s Indië Leger/Royal Dutch East Indies Army).

Unfortunately with WW-II and then the subsequent Merdeka time (Indonesian takeover of The  Dutch East Indies). I never got to know my grandparents of both sides and do not know much of them other than my father’s father side, who was a German from Borghorst West-Germany and who volunteered to join the KNIL

My family lost my oldest brother and a sister one year older than I, due to illnesses, during the Japanese occupation while in the Dutch East Indies.

We left Batoe and moved to Surabaya and then to Bandoeng.

In September 1950 we left, the then declared Indonesia, in that they had gotten their independence in December of 1949. My mother was found to have Tuberculosis and left separately on a Dutch military hospital ship, while my father and us 8 kids left by a military troop ship.

Late October 1950 we arrived in Holland and were taken bij bus to the town of Maastricht, Province of Limburg in the South of The Netherlands and received our red cross winter clothing. We were temporarily moved into an old Dutch Hotel (one room with only a sink in the room and with the bathroom located in the end of the hallway) in Maastricht. We were then moved to another one-room hotel in Valkenburg near Maastricht. A year later we were moved into old military barracks in the city of Eindhoven. Then another year later we moved to another Hotel in The Hague. Then my older brother and I were placed in a catholic boys home in Vogelesang/Bennebroek, while my sisters were placed in a girls home. My oldest brother was 16 and joined the Royal Dutch Navy. Then another older brother and I lived with my mom’s family in Amsterdam, while my sisters and younger brothers were placed with other families in other towns.

We did not see our mother for 5 years until she was cleared from her illness (TBC). Then in 1955 she was cleared and allowed to to live with us,at which time we started our own real home in Valkenswaard south of the City of Eindhoven. Two years later we moved to a newer home in Bussum (the Dutch TV Town).

In 1958 my oldest brother and 2 of my oldest sisters gotten married and immigrated to the USA in 1959.

With all the turmoils and moving around to different schools, I excelled in my studies and was allowed to test out for the higher grades. At age 15 I was a student at the prestigious Dutch Merchant Marine College (The Hoge Zeevaart School) in Amsterdam studying to be a ship engineer.

But then in May of 1960 my dad got word that we were allowed to immigrate to the USA. So again, the family is packing up for another big move, and boarded the Dutch Civilian Carrier the Maasdam leaving Rotterdam to arrive in June of 1960 in New York. Then on the train to Denver were the family of seven started our lives in de USA.

My older sister and older brother and I gotten a job washing dishes at the Denver Hilton Hotel at 65 cents an hour, while my dad started cleaning airplanes for Continental airlines. No school for me, and therefore never saw the inside of a HS then. I got lucky, when the head Chef, a Dutchman, of the hotel thought he could train me to become a chef, and within 6 months at age 17, I was in fact a Junior Chef and gotten an offer to work as one of the many party chefs at the Beverly Hills Hilton Hotel in California. I then moved in with one of my married sisters in her home in North Hollywood.

Then in late 1962 I received my draft notice. I reported to the North Hollywood recruitment station and volunteered to enter the Army as an Infantry Rifleman at a pay of $68 a month. I was told no high school diploma I could not make more than the $68 a month, unless I want to jump out of airplanes to be a paratrooper and get paid $55 a month more to be as a paratrooper. I took the offer.

I started my U.S. Army Career as an Airborne Infantryman in 1963; then was cross-trained to be an Airborne Combat Medic for the 1/502nd Infantry Bn. (Abn), 101st Airborne Division.
Vietnam 1966-1967.
In 1967, I was assigned to HHC, 1/509th Infantry/Mechanized Bde. (Abn) in Mainz, Germany to leave the infamous jungles and rice paddies of the former Republic of Vietnam. I got to learn how to operate an APC (Armored Personnel Carrier) and how to keep an eye out for the Russian and East German soldiers.
In 1968, I was re-trained to be a Military Policeman and was assigned to the only Paratrooper MP Platoon (1st MP Platoon (Abn), 8th MP Co., 8th Infantry Division) in Germany in support of the 1st Brigade 509th Infantry/Mechanized (Abn). We were also the 8th Infantry Division’s Honor Guard. Note: the majority of the 8th Infantry Division was non-airborne.
As a U.S. Army Master Parachutist , I had  also been awarded with Parachutist Wings of the former Republic of South Vietnam and the former country of West-Germany.
Did many assignments as an Military Police Investigator (MPI) to assist the US Army CID with undercover operations in CONUS and in the former West-Germany.
Subsequently received training from the US Customs Service to function as the first supervisor for the Schinnen Field Office Border Operations (42nd MP Group (Customs)) Schinnen, The Netherlands to conduct drug suppression operations at the Dutch/Belgian/German border crossings.

*****I did receive my promotion to Master Sergeant E-8 in May of 1982, but declined the promotion in lieu of retiring in April of 1983. 

Completed my military career at Fort Bragg, NC with the 118th MP Co. (Abn) (note: this was my 2nd assignment to this unit) as a Platoon Sergeant and Field First Sergeant respectively (and, having also ran the Ft. Bragg CID Drug Suppression Team for about 1 1/2 year prior).
Started my civilian police career as a Sheriff Deputy/Investigator in Georgetown, CO; 
then served with the Aurora Police Department in Aurora, CO (Patrol, FTO, PAR, DART, and subsequently as a Detective (was also the department’s representative with the Denver Field Office U.S. Custom Service); and in October of 1999 I was selected and hired to be the Chief of Police for the Fairplay Police Department in Fairplay, CO.
Just an extra note…., many assignments as a Military Police Investigator and subsequently as a Police Detective included undercover operations working for the FBI, DEA, Secret Service (VIP Protection), the US Customs Service, and working with the Dutch Marechausee (Military Police and Dutch Customs Operations), German Bundes Grenzschutz (Federal Police) and the Belgian Gendarmerie (Federal Police).My wife and I then moved to Las Vegas, NV in 2002. I tried working the casinos (did not like it), then worked for the first TSA/Homeland Security Department at the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. Currently retired (May 9, 2014) from the Las Vegas Convention Center  (AKA: LVCVA) as a Senior Convention Authority Officer.

Hi there, My name is Elizabeth “Liz” Mahina Souza, very often strangers speculate about my ethnicity, of course, living in Southern California I get the most obvious guesses first, Latino, Hawaiian, part Japanese. Very often people approach me so certain I am Native American, that their first words are “What tribe?” You know I have these cheekbones; I can’t help it. I don’t mind that people think I’m from those ethnicities at all, but I do find it difficult to explain what I actually am. I’ll I say I’m Dutch Indonesian- a term my parents hated because they considered it inaccurate, they were Dutch, or they were Indische. I choose to simplify when explaining because I know most people are not really interested in the complexity of what I am- what we Indos really are- they are just curious. What we are is not just a combination of genes stemming from Dutch and Indonesian descent, we are a cultural group that evolved out of many different nationalities and races mixing together in the Dutch East Indies, a product of European expansion into the Pacific. And we are unique, culturally rich and because of our long history of cultural mixing adaptable and in danger of loosing our core culture. Thankfully because there is a new renaissance of young people striving to understand our background we won’t go away. Even if we add some more ethnicities to our mix. My children who heavily identify as Indo are also Scottish, Portuguese and Ashkenazi Jewish, lucky them. That is my two cents about my cultural identity and here is my personal story. My parents, Richard and Elaine Coert (Ridy and Zus), grew up in the Dutch East Indies to parents who were already ethnically mixed. My father was from Malang, and my mother Kediri, both towns in East Java. I was raised hearing their fantastic stories of flying on banana leaves, monkeys coming out of the trees to steal their lunches while they played, living on large estates with extended family and servants, as well as the horrors they faced during the Japanese occupation and my father’s service in the KNIL -a foreign legion branch of the Dutch army. They met after World War II, my father was a tall and very handsome man -the girls even stole his cap and wrote “Lady Killer” on it in English- his family was financially comfortable, and very old fashioned. He had enlisted in the air force, but was conscripted into the KNIL before he could go for training in Australia at 17 years old. He spent three years as a prisoner of war in a Japanese POW camp Kanchanaburi in Thailand until the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. My mother was petite, the oldest daughter and middle child in a family with seven siblings, she loved to tell stories and laugh. After my parent’s wedding they sold all their gifts and moved to New Guinea where my father was stationed for five years. Their time in New Guinea produced more fantastic stories, I don’t even know which ones to believe. They had a still born son while living there and sent all their money to my dad’s parents in the Netherlands where it was saved for them. Ten years after their wedding they finally had a baby, and that was me! It was 1957, I was born in Utrecht, the Netherlands. My father resigned from the military and worked for Dutch Shell, waiting to be allowed to immigrate to the United States. In 1959 we moved to the states and we lived in Long Beach, California where my sister was born. After a few years we bought a house in Huntington Beach where I grew up. Back then the town was not very developed and after my father took me to see the movie Mary Poppins I asked if we could go for a drive in the country, to which he replied “We live in the country!” We had a lovely little home with the best garden in the neighborhood. The Hollandse bakker used to drive around Orange County delivering foods to Dutch families and he would bring us kaas, ontbijtkoek, and special Indo foods often. Our American neighbors would evencome over and buy products. They all loved my mom’s cooking, she was a great cook. My parents loved to socialize they would go to dances at the AVIO and also entertain at home. Mom would make piles of lumpia, and dad would make sate. The ladies were always gossiping and sharing news while the men stood outside and got auto repair tips from my dad. My parents loved Hawaiian culture and when they realized I had a talent for dance I started taking lessons mostly in Polynesian dance. I was hired as a principle dancer at the Tiki’s in Monterey Park when I was fifteen years old. I went to college to study art where I met my husband Robert Souza who is a story artist for Walt Disney Studios now. I wanted to be a stay at home mother like my mom and quit school to raise our four children Jason, Jared, Jasmin and Jillian. We lived in Santa Cruz, California for eight years but eventually decided to move back to Southern California because it had more job opportunities and our family was here. Before going back to college I raised my four children, and then helped raise one of my grandchildren. During the time my kids were growing up, I continued working as a dancer both Polynesian and Tribal Belly Dance and even ended up travelling to Europe to teach dance classes. I also have been a knitting teacher, spinner, weaver, and have written articles for the Interweave Press publication, Spin Off. Even though I left college when I got married I continued practicing art and for the past three years have been in college full-time. Recently I graduated with a BA in Art from California State University Channel Islands (CSUCI). Currently art and family are my biggest passions. I am preparing to apply for an MFA program and am hoping to be an art professor one day. For the last year I have been working on a series of paintings that depict my Dutch Indonesian cultural identity. So far the paintings have taken the form of large 30” x 40” oil paintings. They are figurative and contain surreal symbolic elements to tell the story of my diaspora. I have my own feelings about what each painting means, but I hope viewers will also read their own meanings into the pieces. I am currently working on smaller watercolors inspired by historical photos. I am also making a shadow box theater with puppets in the style of Indonesian wayang kulit depicting cultural icons. The entire series will be featured in an art show at my alma mater in Camarillo, California. I would love to have a big Indo turnout for the reception of the show which will be March 14, 2019, 6-8pm in Napa Hall. The art will be up for viewing from March 4-April 4, 2019. If you’d like to follow me as an artist you can see my website www.elizartist.com (please forgive me, it’s an ongoing work-in-progress) or you can follow me on Instagram, @elizabethmahina.

My name is Peter Van Roey, born in the year when the first man walked on the moon in a Belgian village called Brasschaat, close to Antwerp. Belgian dad and Sumatran mom. My story is so similar like the other Indos in the previous months but I like to share my experience what happened on Lombok Island, Indonesia when I was there during the horrible  7.0 earthquake…

Here we are, Paradise on Earth, Gili Meno a tiny coral island. No roads, no motorized transportation, no streaming water and as flat as a pancake. It’s really Paradise on Earth!
Seri Resort, the most beautiful resort on the island, 4 stars, with all the luxury you could wish for.

We have dinner at 7PM, on the 2nd floor of this beautiful open beach building. A few people are sitting on the 3rd floor of this building.

We order pineapple lassi and a delicious fresh juice. As a starter we order yummy Bruschetta and right after finishing our starter we feel an instant light vibration, all employees run away without saying a word! This doesn’t feel good. Than the building starts to shake heavy, people panicking, we’re losing power, we experience literally a blackout.

You’re running but you don’t know and see where you’re running to. The sound of breaking glass, ceilings falling, furniture falling over.

We need to go down a concrete staircase it’s almost impossible to stand straight and go down the stairs because of the heavy shocks of the earthquake.

The concrete pillars are snapping and that sound is telling us we need to get out ASAP! We’re walking down the stairs not counting the steps we’re missing, the pool is losing its water because of the shakedown.

People are in full panic mode and jumping into the pool, which is a very bad idea because if the building will collapse it will collapse right onto the pool.

A Dutch police officer on vacation, tries to take control and tries to calm everybody down… and that happens.

4:30PM Because there is no hotel staff presence anymore at the resort there’s no other option than to work. All the guys are setting up tables at the beach and women are preparing food. We decided to bbq and try to make it a feast to lift up the spirit of the group. Meanwhile we see a boat passing by we all hope that people are not forgetting us?! The owner is working so hard to get us a boat so we can leave the Island. On a nearby Island there more than 7000 people waiting to get of it as well. And it’s a very slow process, 20 people per boat. We all hope that the owner can and have good connections so we can leave the Island and go to Bali. We still haven’t received any news from our travel agency and the local partner at all. I only can imagine we’re not the only one trying to get hold of them. Luckily we have perfect host that are trying to do their utmost best for all of us. They are emptying out all the refrigerators and all the fish that is in it will be out on the bbq so we all have some food in our belly. This is the last food we have and we’re desperately hoping we’re getting rescued tomorrow or it would be a real survival for all of us. 7:30PM I made a bed out of 2 beach chairs, a mattress, pillows and blankets. I have reduced those items out of collapsed home. I’m using the mattress as a shield for the wind. This will be our second day sleeping outside. This time not out in the field but on this idyllic white sand beach. And again there are the after shocks, let’s hope they won’t getting stronger. The sky is filled with stars and I even see a falling star. From where we now are we can see Lombok and another small island. That’s where the epicenter was. It’s really dark over there I can’t see any single light. I only see some fires on the beach, they must be also out of power. Sleep tight and see you tomorrow. Sleep? No way!!! At 11pm we encounter agains some earthquakes! The damaged to the buildings are only getting worse. We’re blessed to be sleeping on the beach! The whole night we felt shocks. 6AM We’re enjoying a beautiful sunrise, the question is do we want to enjoy it? We receive an update, a boat is going to pick us up at 8AM. 30 min later this changes into 11am. In the meantime we all are cleaning up the mess to help out the owner so he doesn’t need to do this on his own when we’re gone. The owner and his family and leaving together with us. We have made some breakfast with fruit and some eggs. Now there’s really nothing left on the Island. Last night a group backpacker arrived, they came from a nearby youth hostel. They were just in shock. After we’re done with breakfast it’s their turn to eat to finish the food. At this point we’re all equal, all refugees, waiting to be rescued, feeling abandoned, reset ourselves into survival mode. New update. The owner has arranged for us to be picked up by a boat and will take us for free to Bali. Normally this cost 500,000 Rupiah . About 30 Euros a person. Still no news from our travel agency. 10AM Tuesday morning. Our rescue boat is finally arriving after 2 scary days. Kids and wounded are the first one going on the boat. Max capacity it 54 and with all the resort people  and some others on it the boat is full. 40 people are being left behind. They are the last ones on the island. The captain of the boat promise them that he’s coming back for them. The evacuation is going smooth besides some small incidents with the backpackers. The boat is too have packed and we’re stuck on the reef. But we’re able to get free. And again… most men are just watching instead of helping. We sailing on but where to is the big question? 10:30AM We arrived at Gili Tarawan. A bigger island that ours. Here bigger boats can reach the beach. The marine has taken control over the island. Yesterday there are 7000 people evacuated from this island. Maybe it was for a reason that we weren’t rescued yesterday, because it must have been a total mess here. Still there are about 100 people left on this island. And we all are going to be rescued and being brought to Bali later today. People are busy hoarding the horses, main transportation on this island, and loading them onto the boat. They need to get off the island as well. This is the party island of the 3 island and you can see it because of the trash and the loitering. On this island 10 people haven’t survived the earthquake. I find a bottle water on a table and it’s a relief to drink again after being out for a while. We used the dirty hotel pool water for cooking, doing dishes and bathing. There’s no other choice. Luckily we’re used to “bad water circumstances” after traveling throughout Asia after all those times. And now we’ve become champions in waiting… Noon. Change of plans. Marines are letting us board into a speedboat that’s going to bring us to Lombok. The most damaged island. Our group is being separated. We all hope to see each other in the harbor so we all can meet and go together to Bali. After 15 min we arrive in Lombok. The army is welcoming us, just like the press and employees of Embassy. We’re brought into a bus that’s taking us to a ferry that will bring us to Bali. A 2 hour drive and 4,5 hour on the boat. On our way to the ferry we see all the damaged that has been caused. And it’s heartbreaking and devastating to see it. People are trying to salvage as much as they can do. Here it’s just total chaos and we realize we’re lucky being only 4 km away from the epicenter. And without a single deadly victim in our islands. The hotel building has been damaged, but that’s only material stuff. During the rest of our bus ride we see people sheltering outside on the streets and trying to survive. It’s a long 2 hour drive. All of a sudden the bus stops and we need to get out. We arrive in a crisis center, that has been set up in a hotel. Again press is here again and they are looking for stories of survives. People coming to us and asking us to get a picture. I just had enough of this all. We get free food and drinks. We need to register ourselves and have a mandatory nap of an hour before going back on the bus that will bring us to the ferry. 5PM We’ve found a spot on the ferry and because there a lot of people on it we need to sit on the floor. Although we’re not sitting in a bench or chair.. knowing what we have left behind and what we’ve seen this place on the floor is heaven for me. At this point the travel agency is finally contacting me, 2 days after the aftermath. I don’t have to explain I’m boiling at this point! They offer us to end our trip but if we do so we need to pay 2,070 Euro’s for new plane tickets. Insane right?! We arranged our own evacuation with help from the hotel owner but still… no help from them whatsoever. Now we have 5 nights in Bali, probably with lots of sleep in our furrier because with every vibration we’re awake and people will be in panic mode. I don’t even wish my worst enemy an earthquake like this one I’ve experienced. It came to my attention that SoCal Indo started the LOVE4LOMBOK 7.0 Campaign together with The Indonesian Community in SoCal to raise funds to help the victims on Lombok island, Indonesia, beautiful cause, please attend their event and fill up that place called AVIO in Anaheim. But still.. I’m grateful that I’ve been able to make this trip. We are SURVIVORS How cynical: the movie shown on the ferry is San Andreas; a movie about a gigantic earthquake in the United States.

My name is Catherine Loeffen and I am a Wood and temporary tattoo artisan. I have a B.S. degree in Apparel Manufacturing and Management from California Polytechnic University, Pomona. I was born on August 7th, 1979 to the parents of Elisa Solis of Mexican ancestry and Franklin Arthur Loeffen of Dutch-Indonesian descent. I am currently living and working in Los Angeles, CA. I own and run my own business, EternalGlyphics, where I handcraft art made out of wood, as well as free hand temporary tattoos using Henna and Jagua. I have always loved wood art, but specifically looking back to 2004, when I first touched my feet on Indonesian soil (Bali), is where my inspiration for wood art began. I have some artwork on display at a group art show, all inspired by Dutch-Indonesian roots, in Pomona, CA at La Bomba Vintage. Please feel free to browse my website – www.eternalglyphics.com.

My father was born in Bandung, Indonesia in 1950. He left Indonesia to seek refuge in 1957 and went to Holland and then moved to Los Angeles, CA in 1961. He started attending Long Beach State in 1971, where he met my mother. After dating for two years, they were married and had their first child, Marisa, in 1974. Three years later my middle sister, Natalya, was born in 1978. Lastly, my twin sister, Christine and I were born a year and a half later in Monterey Park. Within the first month of my birth our family moved from Pasadena to Altadena, to have more room for my twin and I.

My Oma, Jani Rosmiah Jansen, was born in Tjemahi, Indonesia in 1927. She had 4 children on the island of Java, Myra in 1945, Roy in 1949, my dad in 1950, and then Jessica in 1952; and had her youngest child, Linda in Los Angeles in 1962. Oma first married at the young age of 20 and married two more times over her life time. Her second marriage was to my father’s Dad, Nicodemus Loeffen whom passed away just a few months after my dad was born. Oma met my Opa, Franciscus Jansen, during her early high school years, but the war split them up and they later found each other again before moving to the USA. They married in Los Angeles, CA in 1961 and moved to Dallas, OR in the late 1980s. They were happily married for almost 33 years before my Opa passed away in 1994. Oma then moved to Seal Beach, CA in 1997, to be closer to family and friends, and spent her remaining years there before she laid to rest on January 02, 2017.

Food has forever been a BIG part of my life and although I was raised on Dutch Indonesian and Mexican food, my parents encouraged us to explore other cultures food and my love for food began. I can remember being introduced to Indonesian food by my Oma, hands down the BEST Dutch Indonesian cook I know. Lumpia, Gado Gado (salad), Soto Ayam (chicken dish), Roti Koekoe (sponge cake), Spekkoek (spice cake), Loempia (eggroll), Risolles (dessert), Tjendol (drink dessert) and Kroketjes (beef roll) were dishes I’d always ask her to make for me. It wasn’t until I was in college that I attempted to make my first Indonesian dish, Frikadel Djagoeng (shrimp and corn fritters). My Oma had a strong accent, even after being in the US for so many years, so calling her for a recipe, wasn’t the easiest task. Nor was it easy to find the right ingredients. We had just a few very small Indonesian markets throughout LA, Temple City and Bellflower that we’d find most of the products we needed to get the kitchen smelling like Oma’s house.

Last year, my Dad gifted me a cookbook, Indo Dutch Kitchen Secrets by Jeff Keasberry. Since then my mother and I have attempted to keep the traditional Dutch-Indonesian food in the house by experimenting with several of the recipes in the cookbook and remembering Oma’s style of cooking.

In 2004, for my college graduation gift, my mother suggested a family trip to Indonesia and without hesitation we had our tickets booked and set forth for our 21-hour flight to Bali. During our time there, we visited Ubud, the artist colony, where I fell in love with all the Mahogany wood work. The intricate carvings, wood inlays, furniture and jewelry were breathtaking. The craftsmanship and attention to detail were impeccable. I ended up purchasing so much, I had to buy another suitcase to bring everything back to home with me. My fondest memories from that trip was flying into Bandung, Java, meeting my Great Aunt and her immediate family for the first time and being able to see the street my Dad grew up on and the park he played at as a kid. I plan to take my daughter to Indonesia one day and show her the beautiful landscape of the rice fields, eye opening trees at the monkey forest, aqua marine water of the black sand beaches, intricate architecture of the temples, active volcano, and the majestic mountain views. All that I saw in Indonesia help inspire me in my art until this day, almost 14 years later. I am very proud of my Dutch-Indonesian heritage and I hope to incorporate more and more of this rich culture into my life.

Greetings from West Covina, “SoCal” I am number 3 of four boys in my Indo Dutch family. Both of my parents are Indo Dutch and their families are originally from Indonesia. My Father, Jeffrey Kerkhoff, born in Jakarta, Indonesia and moved to live in Amsterdam, The Netherlands, 45 minutesNorth of Rotterdam, where he lived until he was 16. His father and mother Maximillian and Carol Kerkhoff relocated my dad and his two brothers to Baldwin Park, CA. My mother Elizabeth (Pieters) Kerkhoff, born in Sliedrecht, The Netherlands and moved to South Pasadena, CA in 1960 moved to Baldwin Park from there. She was number 4 of 8 children from John and Margaretha Pieters. Growing up in an Indo home in SoCal was interesting as we looked like many kids out there, but very few actually knew “what we were.” I remember going to school and reporting I went to Oma and Opa’s house over the weekend and reacting to certain names as if someone just said a funny joke and my peers having no idea what was going on. All the huge family get togethers and amazing food that no one I spoke to ever heard of. I honestly saw it as “we were just exclusive” or in the “cool club” but the looks we would get were as if we were weird. I remember going to The Holland Festival as a kid with my Opa. We really weren’t that excited about the food as both sets of grandparents could prepare Indonesian food very well ! But it was more of the atmosphere and being around folk of the same background that were not in our immediate family. Of course food is HUGE in our culture and extremely important to me. So now in my family, we try to “out do” each other with who  cooks the most and the best Indo food to share with the family. Having married my Latin American high school sweetheart Saida Kerkhoff, she makes it a deliberate point to master the Indo Culinary Arts for and with our 3 daughters Charisma, Alyssa, Charlotte and our son Obadiah. We are proud to be INDO and look forward to further exploring our culture with them in the future. Jedediah Kerkhoff