Masarang HK Society Limited 青山綠水協會有限公司

A most special man has left us. A young pastor from the far south of Limburg who subsequently spent almost his entire life in the interior of Borneo with the Dayak tribes he loved. And that love was mutual.

Much has been written and reported about the enormous variety of initiatives he developed, such as his technical skills as a pilot, installer of radio communication systems in the interior, founder of the still active volunteer fire brigade of Sintang, initiator of the cooperative of more than a thousand Dayak women who are making their weaving culture a proud symbol of Indonesia, even worn in clothing by the president. He always looked for ways to raise funds for  the many Dayak women he helped to study. And then we haven’t even talked about his three cultures museum in Sintang or his work for the orangutans, the fight against oil palms, the sugar palms/illipe nuts/medicinal and coloring plants as sustainable income, the Ensaid Panjang longhouse and so on.

I prefer to talk about my friend and his great empathy. As a pastor he was expected to obey and his vibrant energy and many initiatives were often thwarted and attempts were made several times to get rid of this “rebel” in the eyes of his order. However, there were always still friends within the church who protected him. The six-month period in Rome was part of one of those episodes to calm the mood in Sintang. Already in the seminary he was known as the “kloengelaer”, meaning more or less a person that never sits still and does strange things that other people don’t do. He secretly made a small radio that he connected to his fellow brothers via the gutter of the seminary building so that they all could secretly follow the football matches. His activities at the seminary with his tape recorder as a member of a club called the “sound chasers” caused great consternation among the teachers and hilarity among fellow seminarians. His recording of a well-known Christimas song, sung slowly by fellow residents, was played at high speed during the official Christmas celebration and that prank almost cost him his place at the seminary. And how many times have we not heard about what a cuckoo clock repairing pastor was doing with all those women and animals out there in the jungle of Borneo. Inappropriate!

Jacques’ strengths were his sharp intuition and enormous charm combined with a vibrant zest for life and enormous empathy for everything and everyone. Everybody from all walks of life visited him and all guests were always welcomed with open arms. The Chinese people brought him food and helped with other needs. Hendra, doctor Yani, Yosua even tall Andy from the supermarket, they all loved him. The Muslim community helped with all kinds of repairs, construction and expansion activities and often did not want to accept compensation for their services. These muslims also regularly brought food to the Kobus house. The Dayaks were also regulars to his home and he helped their artists by collecting their paintings and sculptures. His whole house is now like a museum full with unique pieces with Dayak themes.

He saw the ancient tools of the Dayaks disappear and collected and saved them. His collection became the basis for the Dayak section in the Sintang museum. When the government started making certificates for the land in the interior, Jacques arranged hundreds of certificates of the land of the Dayaks who initially laughed at him as if anyone would dare to steal their land and their would be a need for such a piece of paper. He prevented companies from the big city from taking over all the land especially along the main roads and kept the certificates in his safe. Years later, when the land had become many times more expensive, he saved many Dayak families that had financial problems who were then able to collect the certificate by “paying” only two bottles of rice wine.

His brother Marcel and many friends from the Netherlands made it possible for him to offer better opportunities to so many Dayak women. He also had many friends in Indonesia, such as Mrs. Utomo who had two longhouses built, one for the women’s cooperative and one for the village of Tembak.

I first heard of Jacques Maessen, or “Pastor Mas” as the local people address him, through a letter from him in 1993. He had heard of the Dutchman who worked at the Indonesian Ministry of Forestry as an advisor to the Minister for reforestation and conservation programs and worked with orangutans too. He had a small orangutan at his house and asked for advice. I wrote back to him that it was illegal to keep orangutans and that he should surrender it to a rehabilitation project, after which he wrote me an angry letter, saying “who do you think you are and that the Dayaks manage their own affairs and did not need Jakarta to tell them what to do with their orangutans”. I then sent my forestry police to confiscate the orangutan from him. This was not taken in gratitude and led to our hostile relationship. Brother Martien Dol, a Dutch brother who founded and managed a large printing company in Jakarta, knew both me and Jacques and, without our knowledge, arranged for us both to be invited to a dinner at Jacob Vredenbregt’s mansion in Jakarta and arranged for us to sit opposite each other at the dining table. That resulted in a good conversation that opened both our eyes and I was sincerely impressed by Jacques and promised to visit him in the interior of West Kalimantan. This was in 1998 and Dudung and I flew on a missionary Chessna single engine airplane from Pontianak to Sintang. But the pilot was unable to make contact with the airport despite the flight having been officially announced. After landing at a completely deserted landing strip we called the manager of the airport, which turned out had not seen a plane arriving in over ten years. He came excitedly running over with the keys and we were able to greet Jacques and a group of cute 5-year old Dayak girls in traditional costumes on the other side of the fence. That visit became the start of Jacques’ first animal rescue project in the garden, initially for sun bears, gibbons and other animals which later became the Sintang Orangutan Center.

Since that day I have travelled to Sintang many times and was given my own room upstairs with Jacques at the Kobus house where my suitcase with clothes and field shoes is still kept for my visits. We set up the Tuak Boys Club, where the inauguration of new members was arranged over a glass of rice wine in magnificent kitsch glasses decorated with fake gold on the upstairs terrace, overlooking what Jacques told everyone was the most beautiful garden in Southeast Asia with the stolen view. Because at the time, the garden was directly adjacent to the Baning city forest of 200 hectares and the garden connected perfectly with this peat swamp forest. Many of you who read this will gratefully remember the special hours on this terrace and the proverbial hospitality of Pastor Mas.

Together with Jacques I made many trips, on foot, on the back of motorcycles, with 4WD vehicles and with Chessna planes to remote villages where, without exception, his name opened all doors. We often slept together under a mosquito net. I remember the long journey to the village of “Bruder Martinus” for the sugar palm project. On the way back we got two flat tires. But after half an hour a car stopped. “Pastor Mas!” they exclaimed. And thus we were able to continue with their car while the passers-by repaired our vehicle. We waited for our car in a village 15 kilometers further towards the village of Putussibau. But people saw us and immediately we were led into a local house held by the arm and instantly food and drinks were provided. When our car arrived, repaired, we continued our long way back to Sintang. But when we stopped for gas it happened again. Mr. Pastor, remember you married us! You baptized our son. And again there was no escape from sitting and eating and drinking with these Dayaks for a long time. Another stop for a toilet break and the same thing happened again. Jacques was welcomed everywhere with great love and open arms, he is truly a household name in the interior of Borneo.

Whether it was the district head (Bupati) or the sultan or the bishop, everyone visited  Jacques at the Kobus house, where he lived and where he had a drink every day with Piet van Hooff who lived not far away and belonged to the same Catholic order as Jacques.

Every morning Jacques and I would sit on the terrace downstairs at half past five sharp and watched the fog lift above the forest and the first sun rays appear. We talked a lot about Jacques’ adventures and I have written many notes about them that are well worth publishing when I may have time.

Unfortunately, I and his many friends were startled by Jacques’ sudden disappearance. He was taken by the arm by two members of the order and taken against his will to Jakarta and from there to Bandung. He sent several distress calls asking to be rescued. His faithful secretary Angeladwi always had his live location on, so we could follow exactly what happened to Jacques. He was moved under the guise that he was seriously ill with cancer. It was an unpleasant story, the details of which I will not repeat here, but ultimately by signing a letter of guarantee that we took over the responsibility for Jacques’ care and all other obligations in case he needed support, Jacques was able to leave the room in Bandung and return to his beloved home and friends in Sintang, where he spent the last happy years of his life. Especially the 2023 Christmas we had a lovely 8 days together visiting so many of his friends and going to the Christmas holy mass in the Sintang Cathedral.

When Jacques had health problems, he received the best care thanks to Dudung and Dwi in Kuching and in Pontianak and from his loyal Chinese doctor friends. But the last time in the hospital things went wrong again. Again I refrain from saying more here. I spent many hours with him in hospital and when I played old songs from his birth region in The Netherlands for him on my laptop, he was completely happy till the end.  

He is missed greatly but I know my wonderful friend and pastor to many of us will never be forgotten.