Ban di Bawah Pohon Asam

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Pak Hai, guru geografi kelas 8b, masuk ke kelas pada hari Senin membawa selembar kertas dan tersenyum seperti guru yang sedang merencanakan sesuatu yang mengerikan.

On Monday, Mr Hai, the geography teacher of class 8b, came into the room with a slip of paper and smiled the way teachers smile when they are planning something terrible.

“Hari Jumat kalian masing-masing akan memberikan presentasi,” katanya. “Lima menit. Temanya: pekerjaan keluarga saya. Apa yang kalian lakukan, apa yang orang tua kalian lakukan, dan apa yang istimewa dari pekerjaan itu? Kalian boleh menunjukkan foto.”

“On Friday each of you will give a talk,” he said. “Five minutes. The topic is: my family’s work. What do you do, what do your parents do, and what is special about it? You may show pictures.”

Minh, yang duduk di sebelah Linh, mengeluh keras-keras. “Keluargaku bekerja di warung sup mi,” katanya. “Aku cuma bekerja di sana waktu aku makan.” Seluruh kelas tertawa, dan Minh membungkuk seolah-olah dia baru menerima hadiah.

Minh, who sat next to Linh, groaned loudly. “My family works in a noodle soup kitchen,” he said. “I only work there when I’m eating.” The whole class laughed, and Minh bowed as if he had won a prize.

Linh tidak tertawa. Dia punya masalah, dan masalah itu beroda dua.

Linh did not laugh. She had a problem, and the problem had two wheels.

Ibunya menambal ban. Tempat kerjanya ada di sudut dekat pasar, di bawah pohon asam tua: sebuah kursi plastik, seember air, sebuah pompa tangan, dan sebuah papan nama yang sudah tergantung di sana sejak Linh masih kecil. Setiap pagi Linh harus lewat di sudut jalan itu. Dia selalu berjalan di seberang jalan. Ibunya melambaikan tangan setiap pagi, dan setiap pagi Linh berpura-pura tidak melihatnya.

Her mother repaired tyres. Her stall was on the corner by the market, under an old tamarind tree: a plastic stool, a bucket of water, a hand pump and a sign that had already been hanging there when Linh was little. Every morning Linh had to pass that corner. She always walked on the other side of the street. Her mother waved every morning, and every morning Linh pretended she had not seen it.

Setelah pelajaran selesai, Minh berjalan di sampingnya sambil makan biskuit. Dia selalu membawa biskuit. “Dan kamu?” tanyanya. “Kamu mau bercerita tentang apa hari Jumat nanti?”

After class Minh walked beside her, eating a biscuit. He always had a biscuit. “And you?” he asked. “What will you talk about on Friday?”

“Tentang pamanku,” kata Linh. “Dia bekerja di hotel di Da Nang. Sebagai bos.”

“About my uncle,” Linh said. “He works in a hotel in Da Nang. As the boss.”

“Benarkah?” tanya Minh. “Aku tidak tahu itu.”

“Really?” Minh asked. “I didn’t know that.”

Itu tidak sepenuhnya bohong. Paman Tuan memang benar bekerja di hotel itu. Hanya saja dia penjaga pintu malam di sana, dan bagian tentang bos itu baru saja dikarang.

That was not quite a lie. Uncle Tuan really did work in that hotel. But he was the night porter there, and the part about the boss was new.