Mind Your Assumptions

Chapter One

It was a truth universally acknowledged that a Chinese family must have a son in order to continue the family line. However financially disadvantageous it might be to have large families, this truth was so well fixed in the minds of people that the elders would insist on their children to continue reproducing until an heir was born.

The state of things being what they were, Elizabeth Sugianto was born the second child of five sisters. As far as the story went, Mr. Arief and Mrs. Ina Sugianto were pressured into having a son by their parents and the community at large, although what business the latter had on the whole affairs was rather questionable. One daughter after another, Mrs. Sugianto diligently performed her duty as a good daughter-in-law until the couple realized that they were going down the path of a financial disaster with all the additional mouths to feed. However, by that time, the fifth and fortunately, the last child, Lydia was already born. To everyone's disgruntlement, the couple opted for family planning and no heir was to come forth from the firstborn male of the Sugianto family line. Worse still, eighteen years later, Mrs. Sugianto suffered so much headache when she needed to find husbands for her five girls, now all grown-up and of a proper age to be married off according to the society's norms.

An explanation is now due as to which society we were referring to. The Sugiantos lived in a small town called Surajaya on an island that was part of the Kayan archipelago, which held a little over four hundred thousand households in about 43 square kilometers of land, making the population density just over 11,000/km2. Out of however many households cramped into that small area, only one percent was made up of overseas Chinese - first, second, and third-generation Chinese Kayans. Being a minority group, they tend to keep to themselves, rarely marrying outside their circles, and retaining the distinct cultural norms of their past ancestors from China. This was no small feat, considering only a handful of elites managed to learn the Chinese language despite the government's nationwide ban on it since the heyday of anti-Communist movements in the sixties.

It was a close-knit community, where everyone knew everyone else's business, thereby providing fertile breeding grounds for gossips and drama. According to a local, it would take a mere couple of hours for news, good or bad (bad, more often than not) to travel from one end of the town to the other. News traveled like the sound of a dropped pin in a perfectly silent room, the saying went.

So this was the manner by which the news of the arrival of a certain young man to the neighborhood came to the attention of Mrs. Ina Sugianto - during a somewhat harmless tête-à-tête while the women were gathered for arisan, a social gathering among housewives of middle- and upper-class families. They were usually held in one of the members' houses or a high-end eating establishment around town.

"This is quite a nice place you have chosen. I haven't been here for a while," Tante (Mrs.) Lia remarked to Tante Sherly, hiding the snigger in her voice. The former's husband owned a textile factory, which has thrived in the last couple of years.

"Yes, they serve Kayan traditional food in an upper-class style, on plates rather than using pincuk (banana leaves). They also add a couple of Western dishes to the menu. It complements their image as a fusion restaurant, don't you think?" Tante Sherly replied, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in Tante Lia's snide comment. Meanwhile, Sherly's husband managed a successful Japanese fast-food restaurant chain nationwide.

"I personally think it's more delicious to eat traditional food using pincuk. The banana leaves bring out the flavor in the cooked meat," Tante Ina chirped, deciding to join in the conversation. Her husband, well, was more of a general manager to a large family-owned pharmaceutical company. He was a competent manager, though, deeply trusted by all members of the Board.