I am sitting on a train on my way back from Awan’s village, Ketangungan. The main reason for this trip was to inspect the newly installed flushing toilet I gave as an Eid ul Fitri gift. But there was a second purpose.

Six weeks ago, a most perplexing scenario presented itself to Awan as he sat in his skivvies eating bubur ayam (for breakfast) in the house he grew up in. He had gone home to arrange the installation of the new toilet and was getting ready to start work when a mother and daughter, in full muslim regalia arrived bearing gold, money and a most unexpected marriage proposal.

When Awan told me, my first reaction was to laugh. But as I learned more about Irin and her family I began to appreciate how serious the situation was. Irin’s family is one of the wealthiest in Ketangungan. Her father owns several shops and a large house near the town centre. He drives a late model car (unheard of in Central Java) and has a brood of university educated children. The youngest, Irin, works as a teacher at the local junior high school. She is very young to be a government employee, a position most certainly bought by her father.

Awan’s family couldn’t present a stronger contrast. His three aunts live in an old house built by their father, Awan’s grandfather, in the 1950s. It’s a fine house, but it has seen better days. There are none of the modern niceties. Awan’s aunts have had hard lives. Two are widowed and one, blind from a young age, never married. The oldest of the three has cancer. She is too old to have surgery and visits the hospital every month for medical treatment.

The warung (small store) at the front of the house provides them with a small income. Awan’s cousin, Wihartin, runs the warung, selling food and drink to locals. Their income is supplemented by Awan, who sends money every month. Awan was raised by these three women and is devoted to them. When you meet them, you can understand why. They are warm and hospitable. There is a quiet dignity about them, if that makes any sense.

The proposal came as a complete surprise to Awan, though no doubt the two families must have discussed it beforehand. How else could they have known when Awan would be in Ketangungan? Irin and Ibu (mother) chatted with Awan’s cousin and aunts in the front room while Awan hurriedly washed and dressed. When he presented himself, Ibu did all the talking. She presented her daughter for marriage, along with a wedding ring, other gold jewelry and an (as yet) undisclosed amount of money.

Later that day, Irin’s father (Pak) arrived at the house (again unannounced). By this time, Awan had come up with what might be acceptable excuses: he didn’t know the girl (delaying tactic); he wasn’t ready for marriage (lacks credibility). In the end, he told Pak that his principal commitment was to his family and for so long as he had that commitment, he could not get married. A very valid and honourable reason. But Pak wouldn’t hear of it. He would make sure Awan’s family would be looked after; he would buy Awan a house close to his aunts; he would give Awan a job in Ketangungan so he could be close to his aunts.

Talking to Awan later, I learned that he could not turn down the proposal right away. Irin’s parents had clearly put a lot of thought into this and turning them down immediately would have been disrespectful. It would have suggested that he did not take them or their proposal seriously. So he told Pak that he would give his answer after Eid ul Fitri.

A couple of days later, Pak turned up at the house again, this time with the title to a piece of land only 100 metres from his aunts’ house. The title was in Awan’s name, the land cleared for a new house.

When Awan told me, I began to wonder about the pressure this kind of situation presented. Irin’s father presented Awan with a very attractive offer: an end to finance worries. I grew up with fables about temptation - most of them Christian in origin (at least in their most recent incarnations). The long and short of it: if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Morality tales aside, the situation in which Awan found himself demonstrates the power of money, particularly over those who don’t have any. In the following weeks, Irin’s father went on to demonstrate that he too understood full well the power of money.

Two days before the Eid ul Fitri holiday, Awan’s deadline, Irin arrived at the house with a truckload of ceramic tiles to replace the existing roof. Awan returned home to find the tiles lined up along the side of the house, his neighbours buzzing with questions about Irin and her Eid ul Fitri gift. Later that day, Awan learned from his cousin, Agus, that Irin’s father had paid for treatment Agus’ mother received at the hospital that week. What was presented as a gesture of kindness, was also a deliberate attempt to buy favour from Awan’s family. “They are good people”, Agus told Awan later. “See how it could be...”

Ultimately, Awan turned down the proposal. But even that came at a price. With their conspicuous displays, Irin’s family drew the attention of Awan’s neighbours, friends and the village generally to what should have been a personal matter between Awan, Irin and her family.

I have learned so much from this experience, mostly about relationships. It has so many facets that its hard to pull it all together. Maybe later...