Forgotten self-written work can yield an avalanche of endearing memories. Like this one for instance, originally written almost three years ago. This one will go public today, even if teh botol stories do not age as finely as wine. (1 March 2006)

The Unusual Teh Botol Quibble

(originally entitled 'A Tribute to Teh Botol')

by Farah 'Fairy' Mahdzan (13 October 2003)

One foolproof way to measure Indonesians’ love for tea is through casual observation of their instinctive reaction to order Sosro Teh Botol at the warung where they eat or whenever they are thirsty on the road. Not getting some somehow unleashes the beverage beast within them.

I was only reminded of how fiercely loyal my Indonesian friends are to Teh Botol when I recalled back a trivial incident that happened near the train station in Jogjakarta where I was headed for Christmas last year [2002].

We had been traveling from Jakarta to Jogja for 12 hours, feeling exhausted, sleepy and in desperate need of a shower at the end of our train ride. Feeling extremely dehydrated as we dragged our feet to Jalan Malioboro, we stopped by a little shop to purchase a few bottles of teh botol.

“Teh botolnya enam ya Bu (Six bottles of teh botol, Ma’am),” Rere inquired politely.

The ibu shopkeeper picked up six tea bottles one by one and deftly popped the caps off with a metal opener and distributed the open bottles to us. I remember her as being a plump Javanese woman who wore a batik sarong and no shoes; her hair was tied up in a bun. She then began sweeping the front of her little shop with a broom.

As some of us started to greedily sip the thirst-quenching liquid, intermittedly with loud satisfied gasps, I noticed Aan was not drinking and had this grimacing look on his face.

“Ini bukan Teh Botol! (This is not Teh Botol!)” he exclaimed, but not loud enough for the lady shopkeeper hear.

“Masa sih? (Really?)”, asked Iin lazily as she gulped down her drink through her straw; the rest of us reacted with equal oblivion. Clearly at this point everyone was just too thirsty to worry about the gripes of this one fellow friend of ours.

“Iya bukan, ini mah Frestea! (Nope, this is Frestea!), Aan complained as though a cockroach just scurried into and laid eggs in his drink. Apparently he was the only person who given a tea brand that was Sosro’s tea market competitor.

“Ya udah, minum aja kenapa, repot banget sih lo (Oh just drink it will you, you’re being such a fuss),” quipped Aan’s sister, getting a little bit impatient herself. We were all very tired and the thought of having to squabble over a drink just seemed preposterous at this ungodly time.

“Ya gue mau Teh Botol, bukan Frestea, (I want [Sosro] Teh Botol, not Frestea!)” Aan snapped stubbornly. “Tuker donk ama gue! (Swap drinks with me!)” he bleated shamelessly while waving his hands and persuading us to swap our Sosro teh botol with him. Not surprisingly, he was met with little success and blank zombie-like looks.

Even his girlfriend who had not yet drunk her chilled bottled tea was reluctant to swap brands with her whiny partner, when clearly Aan was offering an exchange for the same kind of drink: sweet jasmine tea.

But no, nobody wanted the “other” teh botol; they all wanted Sosro teh botol. In a subconscious reaction I clutched my tea bottle tighter while drinking (pun intended) all of this action in.

Just when it looked like Aan was going to waste that bottle of tea by not drinking it and wanting to order the real deal, Rere decided to give up his own Teh Botol for Aan’s Frestea so as to save our group from embarrassment in front of the lady shopkeeper. The rest of us continued to avidly suck in our jasmine tea as though Aan was going to snatch our bottles in a minute. I suppose he would have had Rere not been manly enough to surrender his Teh Botol.

How’s that for loyalty to the last drop…!