Brotherhood

Being a language teacher, the idea of how a culture influences a language comes up from time to time. The common example is how the Eskimos have about a trillion words for snow. As I learn more about bahasa Indonesian, the case can be seen here as well.

Bahasa Indonesian is the national language. Nearly every (if not all) Indonesians can speak it. But, it is usually their second language. Almost all of the 30 provinces have their own native tongue. I found this out quickly when my students - who hail from just about all 30 provinces - would try to teach me the same word in about five different languages. This, apart from being a really effective measure to get the teacher off topic, also gave me a window into Indonesian culture. Nearly every one of these languages has special terms for fraternal relationships.

Mbak Iin, Iis, and Dellen

Kakak, adik, mas, abong, mbak, nona - they are all ways to address someone as either a brother or sister. Some of them distinguish older or younger siblings, but they are all used as ways to address both actual blood relations and friends (and nearly everyone else - even taxi drivers). It is rare to hear anyone call another person by name alone. I get the feeling that it is almost offensive, like addressing a doctor by his first name instead of Dr. Soandso. The teachers at my school often just call each other "mbak" or "sister" and leave off the first name altogether. The students, of course, all address each other as "abong" or "brother". Even when they are speaking in English, they will refer to their classmates as brothers.

The more exposure I have to these words and the greater understanding I gain of them, the more it is evident how they reflect the collectivist culture of Indonesia. I was warned before coming here that this culture can be a bit of a drag because there is a generally lack of privacy and concept of living independently. As an introvert who grew up in the American mindset of being a strong independent woman, this worried me more than just a little. And it is true; I get a lot of shocked faces when I tell people here that I live alone. It's just inconceivable. But, I found that my worry was unnecessary.

Abong Dedik and I at the farewell party

Conversely, I love the sense of having one large family every where I go. My coworkers are my sisters in the truest sense of the word. My students are my brothers, pestering and protecting as brothers will. I've never seen such a large group of students become such a close-knit unit in three months. The members of the Mobile Brigade finished their course at Sebasa last Friday. The closing ceremony was full of picture taking and hearty good byes, but there were many sad faces as well. Luckily for them and myself, we live in the time of facebook and cell phones, so those connections can remain intact.


I always thought the practice of calling each other "Brother Soandso" or "Sister Whatsherface" in the church culture in America was a bit trite. I just don't feel a genuine family bond behind those words. Here, it's different. When someone addresses me as mbak or kakak I smile deep down inside. I miss my family and friends back home, but having a family here takes away the sting of homesickness and gives me access to a culture that is so different from my own. Maybe this collectivist thing isn't so bad after all.