For the last 5 months we've been working on a semester long video project at the language center. The idea is that one group from each of the 27 classes should submit a video about Bengkulu (ideally tying in some area of expertise from their field of study). We wanted to show students that English has some real life, communicative purpose for them outside of the classroom, and also to promote tourism in Bengkulu province.
Most of the students had no video making experience and have little opportunity to use technology in general. After months of blood, sweat, tears, bribes to customs officials, polite reminders, cajoling, playing the bad cop, and complete internet and computer failures, all of the videos are finally finished. So check out the playlist and feel free to comment on any of the videos.
http://video.yahoo.com/playlist/100651628
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Reflections
Things I will miss:
1. my co-workers
2. my students
3. the English clubs
4. wearing flip-flops at the office
5. the UNIB jungle campus
6. monkeys swinging in the trees outside my classroom window
7. Papaya, papaya everywhere!
Things I will not miss:
1. Smell of fresh rubber and chicken poo wafting on the early morning breeze
2. The guys at the carwash yelling “Hey Mister” in my face on the walk to work
3. Intestinal amoebas
4. Wild and crazy parties every weekend
5. Distortion from the Mosque loudspeaker gently rousing me from sleep at 4:30 a.m.
6. Fresh dusting of gecko poo on my kitchen counter every morning
7. Personal garbage dump conveniently located behind my house
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday afternoon
Yesterday I went with some students to record a video for a project we're doing at the language center at my university. This video was taken at the most popular beach in town, which serves as the main Saturday and Sunday afternoon hotspot for everyone in town. There is usually a lot of traffic along the beach road as the main activities there are crusin' and watching the sunset (along with the occasional elephant ride). However last Sunday it was busier than usual due to some sort of competition (the banner said "Fox Hunt", but I don't know if that was meant to be taken literally) This was at high noon...on the equator...can't you just feel the unbearable heat? If Sartre was right, and hell is other people, than this might very well be my own, personalized version of it, Indo style...
After we escaped the traffic jam, we headed out to a waterfall in the mountains outside of the city. The waterfall was nice and cool, but the hour long ride to get there was anything but. Speaking of but(t), mine was completely numb after the day on the motorcyle and is finally starting to regain feeling a day later. To keep my mind off the brain rattling ride (thanks to the giant potholes in the roads courtesy of years of earthquake damage) I occupied myself with taking pictures along the way. This is how the average family gets from A to B in Indonesia:
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Birthday Festivities!
Last week was the big birthday celebration, and as luck would have it, it just so happened to be Muhammad's b-day as well, so we had a nice long holiday weekend in which to celebrate. My friends and I headed out to the 1000 Islands, a group of islands off the coast of Java, for a little sun and snorkling. We stayed at a great little place called Tiger Island, which is about the size of a football field and we had the run of the island for 3 fun-filled days. After a few minor sea urchin disasters, some incredible sunsets, copius amounts of snorkling, and some daredevil stunts involving a trampoline, we headed back to Jakarta to finish out the celebration in style...it just wouldn't be my birthday without a little karaoke...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
How to take a mandi
Mandi is the term used for "taking an Indonesian-style bath" and it has been the subject of much discussion between myself and friends and family back home. While I was at first somewhat depressed at the thought of having to bathe this way for an entire year, I am now a true convert to the mandi style. As my neighbor put it: "it's refreshing"...and I couldn't have described it any better myself. So, without further ado, here's a step by step process of how to mandi:
Bird's eye view of my bak (my house has 4 bathrooms if you can believe it, and this one is by far the cleanest and in the best condition. Notice how the tap is secured by using a plastic bag...many plumbing and maitenence problems here are solved with plastic bags. It's the Indonesian equivalent of Duct tape)
1. Fill the bak (tub) with water. In all Indonesian homes, the bak is left full at all times (the water is used for not only bathing purposes, but also in lieu of toilet paper...however that is a separate topic which should best be described in person...)
2. Stand outside the bak and scoop out a bucket of water, then pour the water over the body taking care not to get any soap in the bak.
3. Repeat step 2 until clean
It's a bit labor intensive, but since the water is cold, keeping active takes your mind off of the fact that the water is freezing.
Here's a look at my bathroom, complete with western toilet (thank god!) and bak:
Bird's eye view of my bak (my house has 4 bathrooms if you can believe it, and this one is by far the cleanest and in the best condition. Notice how the tap is secured by using a plastic bag...many plumbing and maitenence problems here are solved with plastic bags. It's the Indonesian equivalent of Duct tape)Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Prestige of English
A few weeks ago while on vacation, I received a phone call from a man asking me to make a presentation about “culture and teaching English”. The man who called me couldn’t speak English very well (made even worse because the conversation took place over the phone) so I was very confused about the whole situation
The presentation was on a Saturday morning on the far side of campus. From my house, it was about a 30 minute walk. Even though I left an hour early, someone from the faculty at which I was presenting called and text messaged me 3 times just to make sure I was still coming (note: once someone gets your cell phone number, they will use it liberally by calling and texting constantly. Thus, I must guard my number with my life and only give it to people that I really, really trust. Most of the other teaching fellows here in Indonesia and I have all had our fair share of “cell phone stalkers”, students or people from the community who somehow get our numbers and constantly text and call for no real reason.)
Anyway, I arrived at faculty building a sweaty, disheveled mess after the walk, and was immediately ushered to the 3rd floor. From there I was led into a conference room of about 200 people, who, as I found out upon arrival, were graduate students in the Educational Management faculty. I was lead to the front table reserved for the presenters, and was introduced by someone from the faculty. As I soon found out, the occasion was the “International Seminar of Educational Management” (my presence alone enabling the use of the “international” moniker.) I was also told that “most of the students don’t have very good English, so you can use Indonesian to explain the more difficult parts”…which would be fine if I had to give them directions or ask how much something cost, etc. However my level of speaking ability is not quite up to the task of explaining the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Without a way to accurately judge the English ability of my audience, I began my presentation…but by about slide 3 of my power point, I could tell by the glazed eyes of the audience members that they didn’t understand anything I was saying. So I tried to adapt as I was giving the presentation, all the while still sweating and highly distracted by a man with a camera standing about 1 foot from my face and taking my picture from all angles while I was trying to speak.
Finally, I decided to throw all professional integrity out the window and rushed through the power point without trying to adapt the information to make it more easily understood. Then it was time for question and answer. From attending previous conferences I knew that audience members love to ask “questions”, which means that usually someone will grab a microphone and talk at length without much concern about whether or not he/she has an actual question or whether or not what he/she is saying has any relation to the theme of the presentation. Therefore the onus is usually on the presenter to which said “question” is directed to try and create a question based on the extended monologue of the audience member. This is even more fun if the audience member speaks the entire time in Indonesian (none of which could be understood by me) and then a “translator” (whose English was as negligible as the rest of the audience members’) was left with the task of relaying the information to me in English.
After an hour and a half of complete confusion and frustration, my allotted presentation time was finished. I was then ushered back to the head table, where I was presented with a certificate and thanked by one of the organizing committee. This was his speech: “Dear Ms. Katie, thank you so much. You are so nice. You are so beautiful (and at this, the entire audience burst into applause.) You are so smart. Thank you for coming from New Zealand to talk. And you are still single, but you will be here for 5 more months so maybe some men in the audience can meet you (at this audience once again burst into applause).” End of speech. I was then invited to eat lunch with the organizing committee and some of the faculty members. Only then did I truly realize the level of English most of the seminar members could comprehend…basically, we could discuss likes/dislikes in simple sentences (“Do you like bananas?” “Do you like Indonesian food?” etc.) So as I suspected, maybe 5 out of the 200 people in the entire room had understood what I was saying for the last 2 hours. Frankly, I could have recited the lyrics of “Stairway to Heaven” and nobody would have been the wiser.
So what’s the moral of this story? Personally, I was confused as to why I would be invited to speak at a seminar in a language which the majority of seminar participants didn’t speak. What would be the purpose? What could be gained by having the graduate students sit in a hot and crowed room while they were given a presentation they didn’t understand? Frankly it seemed a waste of time for me (having spent 2 days researching and making the presentation), not to mention frustrating. It also seemed a waste of time for the participants, who could have, in my opinion, gotten some actual information had the presentations been in Indonesian.
It seems the purpose of English here isn’t so much about WHAT is being conveyed as to HOW it’s conveyed. English represents prestige, education, and respect. And it doesn’t seem to matter if the person using it can understand/be understood. The fact that it was used is all that matters. The fact that a foreigner took part in a seminar makes the seminar itself that much more prestigious, never mind what the foreigner said, but just that fact that she was there at all (even better if participants can get an actual photo WITH the foreigner as proof!) I guess being from such a goal-oriented culture, this concept is nearly impossible for me to grasp. I am also struggling with the concept that the value and importance of an event is increased when attended by a foreigner (and even more specifically, a Western foreigner). I seem to be struggling lately with what my presence here means and the discrepancy between the purpose of my fellowship “on paper” and the real motivation. I would like to believe that the content of my work from my 10 months here will be as valued when I finish as all the great photo opportunities. We shall see…
The presentation was on a Saturday morning on the far side of campus. From my house, it was about a 30 minute walk. Even though I left an hour early, someone from the faculty at which I was presenting called and text messaged me 3 times just to make sure I was still coming (note: once someone gets your cell phone number, they will use it liberally by calling and texting constantly. Thus, I must guard my number with my life and only give it to people that I really, really trust. Most of the other teaching fellows here in Indonesia and I have all had our fair share of “cell phone stalkers”, students or people from the community who somehow get our numbers and constantly text and call for no real reason.)
Anyway, I arrived at faculty building a sweaty, disheveled mess after the walk, and was immediately ushered to the 3rd floor. From there I was led into a conference room of about 200 people, who, as I found out upon arrival, were graduate students in the Educational Management faculty. I was lead to the front table reserved for the presenters, and was introduced by someone from the faculty. As I soon found out, the occasion was the “International Seminar of Educational Management” (my presence alone enabling the use of the “international” moniker.) I was also told that “most of the students don’t have very good English, so you can use Indonesian to explain the more difficult parts”…which would be fine if I had to give them directions or ask how much something cost, etc. However my level of speaking ability is not quite up to the task of explaining the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Without a way to accurately judge the English ability of my audience, I began my presentation…but by about slide 3 of my power point, I could tell by the glazed eyes of the audience members that they didn’t understand anything I was saying. So I tried to adapt as I was giving the presentation, all the while still sweating and highly distracted by a man with a camera standing about 1 foot from my face and taking my picture from all angles while I was trying to speak.
Finally, I decided to throw all professional integrity out the window and rushed through the power point without trying to adapt the information to make it more easily understood. Then it was time for question and answer. From attending previous conferences I knew that audience members love to ask “questions”, which means that usually someone will grab a microphone and talk at length without much concern about whether or not he/she has an actual question or whether or not what he/she is saying has any relation to the theme of the presentation. Therefore the onus is usually on the presenter to which said “question” is directed to try and create a question based on the extended monologue of the audience member. This is even more fun if the audience member speaks the entire time in Indonesian (none of which could be understood by me) and then a “translator” (whose English was as negligible as the rest of the audience members’) was left with the task of relaying the information to me in English.
After an hour and a half of complete confusion and frustration, my allotted presentation time was finished. I was then ushered back to the head table, where I was presented with a certificate and thanked by one of the organizing committee. This was his speech: “Dear Ms. Katie, thank you so much. You are so nice. You are so beautiful (and at this, the entire audience burst into applause.) You are so smart. Thank you for coming from New Zealand to talk. And you are still single, but you will be here for 5 more months so maybe some men in the audience can meet you (at this audience once again burst into applause).” End of speech. I was then invited to eat lunch with the organizing committee and some of the faculty members. Only then did I truly realize the level of English most of the seminar members could comprehend…basically, we could discuss likes/dislikes in simple sentences (“Do you like bananas?” “Do you like Indonesian food?” etc.) So as I suspected, maybe 5 out of the 200 people in the entire room had understood what I was saying for the last 2 hours. Frankly, I could have recited the lyrics of “Stairway to Heaven” and nobody would have been the wiser.
So what’s the moral of this story? Personally, I was confused as to why I would be invited to speak at a seminar in a language which the majority of seminar participants didn’t speak. What would be the purpose? What could be gained by having the graduate students sit in a hot and crowed room while they were given a presentation they didn’t understand? Frankly it seemed a waste of time for me (having spent 2 days researching and making the presentation), not to mention frustrating. It also seemed a waste of time for the participants, who could have, in my opinion, gotten some actual information had the presentations been in Indonesian.
It seems the purpose of English here isn’t so much about WHAT is being conveyed as to HOW it’s conveyed. English represents prestige, education, and respect. And it doesn’t seem to matter if the person using it can understand/be understood. The fact that it was used is all that matters. The fact that a foreigner took part in a seminar makes the seminar itself that much more prestigious, never mind what the foreigner said, but just that fact that she was there at all (even better if participants can get an actual photo WITH the foreigner as proof!) I guess being from such a goal-oriented culture, this concept is nearly impossible for me to grasp. I am also struggling with the concept that the value and importance of an event is increased when attended by a foreigner (and even more specifically, a Western foreigner). I seem to be struggling lately with what my presence here means and the discrepancy between the purpose of my fellowship “on paper” and the real motivation. I would like to believe that the content of my work from my 10 months here will be as valued when I finish as all the great photo opportunities. We shall see…
Friday, February 01, 2008
Danau Toba
A few weeks ago during semester break some friends and I decided to explore North Sumatera. Our first stop was Danau Toba (Lake Toba), about 4 hours by car from Medan (the biggest city on Sumatera). Most bus rides here are white-knuckled, hellish journeys spent packed into a crammed bus careening around too-small mountain roads...and our trip to Danau Toba was no exception. The trip was made even more fun due to the fact that the lady sitting in front of us insisted on keeping all the windows closed (even though there was no AC in the bus) to keep her hair from getting mussed (I took small solace in the fact that despite her best efforts, at the end of the trip she arrived with a huge cowlick in the back of her head...) However the journey was well worth the carsickness and stress. When we finally got to the lake, it was an amazing sight to behold. After spending 3 days there, I have decided that Danau Toba is one of my favorite places in the entire world! The lake is the largest in southeast asia and was formed in a volcano crater after a large eruption thousands of years ago (actually just making up the last bit...not exactly sure when it was formed, just making an educated guess...) There is an island in the middle of the lake (equal in size to the island of Bali) which is where we stayed.
On the first day, we rented bikes and rode around to check out the countryside and visit all the tourist "landmarks" (I say that in quotations because some of these so-called landmarks were nothing more than a few mounds of dirt...gotta give the resisdents some props for trying, though!) We also did some canoeing, saw some traditional dances, toured the traditional Batak-style houses, saw some traditional weaving, and visited hot springs. All in all, an amazing time!
More houses and traditional wood carving:
On the first day, we rented bikes and rode around to check out the countryside and visit all the tourist "landmarks" (I say that in quotations because some of these so-called landmarks were nothing more than a few mounds of dirt...gotta give the resisdents some props for trying, though!) We also did some canoeing, saw some traditional dances, toured the traditional Batak-style houses, saw some traditional weaving, and visited hot springs. All in all, an amazing time!
Another teaching fellow and I in front of a traditional style house:
More houses and traditional wood carving:
Welcome dance performed by some local residents:
Traditional weaving methods:
Kendra and I showing off matching hair and outfits:
View of our hotel from the ferry:
Traditional weaving methods:
Kendra and I showing off matching hair and outfits:
View of our hotel from the ferry:
Borobudur
Last weekend I took a whirlwind trip to Yogyakarta on the island of Java. The country's capital, Jakarta, is known as the capital of commerce in Indonesia while Yogya (as the locals call it) is the cultural capital. A trip to Yogya wouldn't be complete without a visit to the Buddhist temple of Borobudur, about 42 km outside the city. Here's a bit of background:
Construction of Borobudur probably took place around 760 AD, and completed around 830. It is designed as a mandala - a geometric aid for meditation. It is in fact a model of the Buddhist cosmos. Borobudur has 10 levels, and these 10 levels are categorized into three distinct parts which correspond to the three divisions of the Mahayana Buddhist universe: khamadhatu, the low-life, so to speak; rupadhatu, the realm of "form"; and arupadhatu, or the state of detachment from worldly being. A pilgrim would circumambulate the monument in clockwise fashion, starting with the reliefs on the eastern staircase, and going around the monument before ascending to the next level, and so on, until he reaches the top. That's a journey of ten circles around Borobudur, covering a distance totaling five kilometers.
Besides being overrun with tourists, it was also ungodly hot (hence the umbrellas)
Some relief carvings on the lower walls:
One of the many statues of Buddah:
Buddah's-eye view of the mountains surrounding the temple:
Me blending in with the surroundings:
Construction of Borobudur probably took place around 760 AD, and completed around 830. It is designed as a mandala - a geometric aid for meditation. It is in fact a model of the Buddhist cosmos. Borobudur has 10 levels, and these 10 levels are categorized into three distinct parts which correspond to the three divisions of the Mahayana Buddhist universe: khamadhatu, the low-life, so to speak; rupadhatu, the realm of "form"; and arupadhatu, or the state of detachment from worldly being. A pilgrim would circumambulate the monument in clockwise fashion, starting with the reliefs on the eastern staircase, and going around the monument before ascending to the next level, and so on, until he reaches the top. That's a journey of ten circles around Borobudur, covering a distance totaling five kilometers.
Here's a look at Borobudur from the entrance path. Like most ancient and colossal religious structures in Southeast Asia, Borobudur is usually swarming with tourists...the day I visited was no exception. And like most places that are swarming with tourists, it seemed there were more people interested in getting their picture taken with me and my friend than of the actual structure (within 5 minutes of arrival I was petitioned by literally 10 different groups to get my picture taken with them)
Besides being overrun with tourists, it was also ungodly hot (hence the umbrellas)
Some relief carvings on the lower walls:
One of the many statues of Buddah:
Buddah's-eye view of the mountains surrounding the temple:
Me blending in with the surroundings:
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Christmas in Borneo
As most of you know, I spent this Christmas with some friends on a little jungle adventure on the island of Borneo. We started our journey traveling upriver by boat to the Tanjung Puting national park in Kalimantan (The island of Borneo is shared by Indonesia, Malaysia, and Brunei. Kalimantan is the Indonesian area of the island, occupying the entire lower portion.) We went to the park because it is home to an orangutan reserve and rehabilitation center. Due to illegal logging and deforestation, thousands of Borneo orangutans have been displaced and/or killed. For this part of our journey, we had a guide take us to the reserve and we stayed in an eco-lodge in the forest.
A few other teaching fellows and me on our boat:
Our first day in the organutan reserve...we got there just in time for the afternoon feeding. The dominant male eats first, then the others can come and eat.
The next day we got to hang out with some mothers and their babies. As we were walking down the trail to the feeding station, a group of them came to show us the way. If we stopped, they too would stop and wait for us...I think they wanted to make sure we didn't get lost! I think this one is trying to tell us something...
Rules of the park...unfortunately, we didn't see any crocodiles in the river.
Snack time:
3 days in the national park, one frightening bus ride, and a very scary hotel later, we arrived in Banjarmasin, which is the capital city of Kalimantan. We were happy to have a little civilization in which to spend Christmas day. And lo and behold, a Christmas miracle: karaoke! Truly a great Christmas day...dinner at Pizza Hut and then an all night karaoke session!
The next day we traveled about 5 hours to the village of Loksado in the mountains. We stayed in a great guest house right on the river, and a guide took us on a little trek to see some local hill tribes. We also got to go for a swim at a nice little waterfall:
After hiking to the waterfall in the morning, our guide asked us if we wanted to take the "long way" back down the mountain. Little did we know what the "long way" entailed...a 5 hour crazy jungle trek, complete with Indiana Jones-style bridges, stream fording, and mudslides. Of course, our guide did all this wearing little rubber flip-flops...and he still had to wait for us to catch up!
Tony, Susannah, and Kendra crossing a stream:
Finally, our trip to the mountains ended with a ride down the river on a bamboo raft. The guide on our boat was amazing...machete in one hand (to chop off tree branches that got in the way) and a bamboo pole in the other to steer, he kicked ass! And of course, he did all this with a cigarette in his mouth most of the time....
Even in the jungle, we still found a little of the Christmas spirit...a very Charlie Brown-looking tree in the eco-lodge:
A few other teaching fellows and me on our boat:
Our first day in the organutan reserve...we got there just in time for the afternoon feeding. The dominant male eats first, then the others can come and eat.
The next day we got to hang out with some mothers and their babies. As we were walking down the trail to the feeding station, a group of them came to show us the way. If we stopped, they too would stop and wait for us...I think they wanted to make sure we didn't get lost! I think this one is trying to tell us something...
Rules of the park...unfortunately, we didn't see any crocodiles in the river.
Snack time:
3 days in the national park, one frightening bus ride, and a very scary hotel later, we arrived in Banjarmasin, which is the capital city of Kalimantan. We were happy to have a little civilization in which to spend Christmas day. And lo and behold, a Christmas miracle: karaoke! Truly a great Christmas day...dinner at Pizza Hut and then an all night karaoke session!
The next day we traveled about 5 hours to the village of Loksado in the mountains. We stayed in a great guest house right on the river, and a guide took us on a little trek to see some local hill tribes. We also got to go for a swim at a nice little waterfall:
After hiking to the waterfall in the morning, our guide asked us if we wanted to take the "long way" back down the mountain. Little did we know what the "long way" entailed...a 5 hour crazy jungle trek, complete with Indiana Jones-style bridges, stream fording, and mudslides. Of course, our guide did all this wearing little rubber flip-flops...and he still had to wait for us to catch up!
Tony, Susannah, and Kendra crossing a stream:
Finally, our trip to the mountains ended with a ride down the river on a bamboo raft. The guide on our boat was amazing...machete in one hand (to chop off tree branches that got in the way) and a bamboo pole in the other to steer, he kicked ass! And of course, he did all this with a cigarette in his mouth most of the time....
For a more detailed description, check out this link to my colleague's blog (I'm too lazy to write it myself!)
Monday, November 26, 2007
garbage
There is shit everywhere here. Not literally of course (although about some dark corners and abandoned patches of land behind buildings I would rather not know.) One thing I have learned after living in this country for 3 months is that sometimes it’s best not to dig too deeply into unused rooms, or when looking out windows, to keep my focus on the trees rather than the informal trash dump scattered underneath them. Garbage of a different variety can be found in and around most buildings, and my office at the University where I work is no exception. As I sit here typing, my desk is facing a wall of shelves…shelves which are, shall we say, organizationally challenged. Crammed onto said shelves are stacks of old papers covered in dust, yellowed by water-stains; 3-ring binders (not one of the 26 remains with the full functionality of it’s spine or ability to remain closed); stacks and stacks of outdated practice tests (circa 1975); used test answer sheets from students long graduated; sloppy piles of manila envelopes…all of this topped off, like the cherry on the proverbial sundae, by a clock in the shape of a rafflesia flower whose hands haven’t moved past 9:45 since the earthquake 2 and a half months ago.
One of my main goals during my fellowship is to give the English Library here at the language center an extreme make-over. As you might well imagine, the library, normally referred to as the Self-Access Center (SAC), is not exempt from the traditional Indonesian-style organization (the aforementioned method of piling shit everywhere but never, EVER, throw anything away lest it might come in handy some day.) Upon my first introduction to the SAC, after having my mission explained to me, it took every ounce of will-power I possessed not to attack the place with a giant plastic garbage bag (props to the McClintic Gulag of my childhood and its Saturday morning enforced cleaning sessions, which, in retrospect, probably instilled more long-term values than that re-run of Saved by the Bell) Anyway, in an effort to be more culturally conscious, I resisted my impulses to immediately begin re-organizing, deciding to first observe the situation then choose the best course of action.
So after 3 months of observing the routine and browsing through the materials, I deduced that the SAC was used mainly as a lunch room for teachers and a place for the librarian to watch soap operas. Various attempts at sorting the materials had taught me that most of the listening materials hadn’t been touched in years, and the majority of the video tapes couldn’t be played and were, in fact, stuck together and slightly moldy. An obvious and easy place to start weeding out unnecessary items…or so I thought. As with most things here, nothing gets accomplished without the advice and opinion of anyone who happens to be in the building at the time. Which is fine, and I understand it is the culturally acceptable way of doing things here (as with most Asian countries, which all lean more towards the collectivist end of the spectrum) However the problem with my desire to throw out the unused materials came not from the group consultation, but rather from the thought that I would throw anything away at all.
Now, it was clearly logical and made perfect sense to me that, if the video and audio tapes don’t work, and we don’t have a machine to play some of the outdated tapes (some strange mini-videos that I’d never previously seen before digging into the nether regions of our SAC shelves) then what is the purpose of keeping the stuff around? Why not weed out the old stuff and in the process make the stuff we do use easier to see and more accessible? But, if I have learned anything after living in 3 different countries and traveling in many more, it’s that sometimes, culturally speaking, what I consider to be “logical” and what others consider to be “logical” often do not coincide.
With the aid of another English teacher serving as my interpreter I tried to get the librarian to understand my logic. Tensions we certainly running high, and the more I tried to reason with her, the more tightly she clung to the idea that the old tapes might be needed by someone. After an hour of consultation, explanation, and towards the end some pleading, we finally reached a breakthrough in our stalemate. The epiphany came when I told her that I had special funds from the State Department specifically set aside to be used for the purchase of new materials and books…funds that I could use at my discretion, which didn’t have to be approved by the director of our language center. As Oprah would say, it was an “Ah, ha!” moment…and then, for the librarian, it was a whole new world. The tapes…gone….garbage…sent to the dumping ground (i.e. the pile of trash behind the building) She now directed all her attention to making a long and detailed list of all the new stuff she wanted for the SAC.
Since that afternoon, I have been thinking about all the shit piled everywhere in this country. It didn’t really register with me, why everyone, it seemed, was so hesitant to send things to the garbage and accept the fact that sometimes, you have to just let things go. But then it started to make more sense…why, for example, my cleaning lady was saving all the old peanut butter jars I threw in the trash, or why she (even though she can’t speak English) wanted to save the old Newsweek magazine I tried to discard. Even today, she politely asked me if she could keep a worn out pair of flip-flops I had thrown in the trash. Of course, I told her, please take them…and then I felt terrible, that something I had deemed disgusting and unfit for use, was, to her, something to be saved and taken home to her family.
I am starting to understand why people hold on so tightly to things. When there isn’t a seemingly endless supply of money to replace something, the line between what is garbage and what isn’t becomes blurred. Since coming here I have slowly started to re-define what the term “necessity” means to not only me, but the majority of the world’s population. It’s an easy lesson to learn when true necessity confronts me every time I open my front door (and sometimes it even comes inside and cleans my bathrooms for me) I just hope that I can remember it when I get back home…
Photocopied Children's Books
Garbage dump below my office window
One of my main goals during my fellowship is to give the English Library here at the language center an extreme make-over. As you might well imagine, the library, normally referred to as the Self-Access Center (SAC), is not exempt from the traditional Indonesian-style organization (the aforementioned method of piling shit everywhere but never, EVER, throw anything away lest it might come in handy some day.) Upon my first introduction to the SAC, after having my mission explained to me, it took every ounce of will-power I possessed not to attack the place with a giant plastic garbage bag (props to the McClintic Gulag of my childhood and its Saturday morning enforced cleaning sessions, which, in retrospect, probably instilled more long-term values than that re-run of Saved by the Bell) Anyway, in an effort to be more culturally conscious, I resisted my impulses to immediately begin re-organizing, deciding to first observe the situation then choose the best course of action.
So after 3 months of observing the routine and browsing through the materials, I deduced that the SAC was used mainly as a lunch room for teachers and a place for the librarian to watch soap operas. Various attempts at sorting the materials had taught me that most of the listening materials hadn’t been touched in years, and the majority of the video tapes couldn’t be played and were, in fact, stuck together and slightly moldy. An obvious and easy place to start weeding out unnecessary items…or so I thought. As with most things here, nothing gets accomplished without the advice and opinion of anyone who happens to be in the building at the time. Which is fine, and I understand it is the culturally acceptable way of doing things here (as with most Asian countries, which all lean more towards the collectivist end of the spectrum) However the problem with my desire to throw out the unused materials came not from the group consultation, but rather from the thought that I would throw anything away at all.
Now, it was clearly logical and made perfect sense to me that, if the video and audio tapes don’t work, and we don’t have a machine to play some of the outdated tapes (some strange mini-videos that I’d never previously seen before digging into the nether regions of our SAC shelves) then what is the purpose of keeping the stuff around? Why not weed out the old stuff and in the process make the stuff we do use easier to see and more accessible? But, if I have learned anything after living in 3 different countries and traveling in many more, it’s that sometimes, culturally speaking, what I consider to be “logical” and what others consider to be “logical” often do not coincide.
With the aid of another English teacher serving as my interpreter I tried to get the librarian to understand my logic. Tensions we certainly running high, and the more I tried to reason with her, the more tightly she clung to the idea that the old tapes might be needed by someone. After an hour of consultation, explanation, and towards the end some pleading, we finally reached a breakthrough in our stalemate. The epiphany came when I told her that I had special funds from the State Department specifically set aside to be used for the purchase of new materials and books…funds that I could use at my discretion, which didn’t have to be approved by the director of our language center. As Oprah would say, it was an “Ah, ha!” moment…and then, for the librarian, it was a whole new world. The tapes…gone….garbage…sent to the dumping ground (i.e. the pile of trash behind the building) She now directed all her attention to making a long and detailed list of all the new stuff she wanted for the SAC.
Since that afternoon, I have been thinking about all the shit piled everywhere in this country. It didn’t really register with me, why everyone, it seemed, was so hesitant to send things to the garbage and accept the fact that sometimes, you have to just let things go. But then it started to make more sense…why, for example, my cleaning lady was saving all the old peanut butter jars I threw in the trash, or why she (even though she can’t speak English) wanted to save the old Newsweek magazine I tried to discard. Even today, she politely asked me if she could keep a worn out pair of flip-flops I had thrown in the trash. Of course, I told her, please take them…and then I felt terrible, that something I had deemed disgusting and unfit for use, was, to her, something to be saved and taken home to her family.
I am starting to understand why people hold on so tightly to things. When there isn’t a seemingly endless supply of money to replace something, the line between what is garbage and what isn’t becomes blurred. Since coming here I have slowly started to re-define what the term “necessity” means to not only me, but the majority of the world’s population. It’s an easy lesson to learn when true necessity confronts me every time I open my front door (and sometimes it even comes inside and cleans my bathrooms for me) I just hope that I can remember it when I get back home…
Audio tape collection at the SAC
Books-on-Tape collection
Photocopied Children's Books
Garbage dump below my office window
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Around town...
A few weekends ago I was invited to some weddings here in Bengkulu. From what I am told, most weddings last around 3 days and involve several costume changes. The first wedding of the day was one of the teachers that I work with at the University. During the reception portion of the wedding (day 2) the bride, groom, and their parents dress in the traditional wedding clothes according to where each family is from (this is West Sumatera dress)
These girls performed a traditional dance at the reception.
From what I understand, the wedding party sits on an elaborately decorated stage throughout the entire reception (about 5 hours) while guests greet them and have their picture taken with them. There is no exact starting time for the reception and guests come and go throughout the day. For most formal events such as this, guests show up, say hello to the hosts, eat, then leave. No mingling, no forced, uncomfortable chit-chat with the 3rd cousins or various other crazy relatives...personally, I am a huge fan of this Indonesian style etiquette....
This is wedding #2 of the day. The bride and groom are wearing traditional Java dress (both bride and groom's family originally from there) This reception was held at the house of our librarian...I cannot express how hot this reception was. It was outside under a tent set up in the librarian's front yard and there were about a million people all crammed together. This combined with the inhumanely loud karaoke that served as the reception's entertainment resulted in almost unbearable conditions. A situation such as this is a perfect example of how Indonesian party etiquette proves to be quite useful. Guests get in, get out, and nobody passes out from heat exhaustion....
This was taken at the birthday party of my friend's son.
There's no birthday cake, but there is a certain kind of rice made on special occasions. It is custom for the honoree to cut the top of the rice and serve it to the most honored and respected guest at the occasion.
This is at an old British military fort in Bengkulu. Most weekends find it full of kids running around and students hanging out with their significant others.
On this particular day, I had a whole gang of "tour guides" who were more than happy to pose for photos every chance they got (they also got an enormous amount of joy out of teaching me dirty words in Indonesian...kids these days...they grow up so fast...)
Cows grazing on the University campus:
Neighbors:
Gecko trying to hide between the wall and ceiling of my house:
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Bali in a Nutshell...
I just got back from a little vacation in Bali. It is really an incredibly beautiful place and unique in Indonesia because it's the only island in the archipelago where the majority of the population is Hindu (95% of Balinese) It was such a different world from where I am...it was interesting to see how stongly the majority religion influences the culture and lifestyle. I only spent 10 days there, but I could have easily spent a month traveling around...lots of places to see and things to do.
Women taking offerings to the temple:
We also stopped at an organic farm in the mountains. Friendly gentleman roasting coffee:
Steam leaking up from the ground on the way back down the volcano:
Mother and child at a monkey sanctuary:
Monkey rules:
I ran into some friends who I worked with in Japan...here Blair shows the inspiration for his hairstyle:
Heather and Blair get serenaded by a drag queen in Seminyak (Blair obviously still in high spirits from his own private lap dance moments before...)
Engaging in less ambitious pursuits in Ubud:
Blessings from Tanah Lot, a Hindu temple:
Sunset at Tanah Lot
We got to see some of the countryside on a mountain biking tour. This is a terraced rice field we passed on our way...
Women taking offerings to the temple:We also stopped at an organic farm in the mountains. Friendly gentleman roasting coffee:Cocoa, light of my life, fire of my loins! Our guide lets us try some raw beans picked fresh from the tree:
Sunrise on top of a live volcano (Mt.Batur). We were cursing ourselves during the 4 a.m. hike to the top, but it was definitely worth it in the end...
...check out that sunrise!
...check out that sunrise!Steam leaking up from the ground on the way back down the volcano:Mother and child at a monkey sanctuary:Monkey rules:I ran into some friends who I worked with in Japan...here Blair shows the inspiration for his hairstyle:Heather and Blair get serenaded by a drag queen in Seminyak (Blair obviously still in high spirits from his own private lap dance moments before...)Engaging in less ambitious pursuits in Ubud:Blessings from Tanah Lot, a Hindu temple:
Sunset at Tanah Lot
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