Almost the Seventh Wonder

Last week I was able to take a spontaneous weekend trip to go see friends and fellow fellows Julianne and Michaela in Jogjakarta, Central Java. Jogja (really spelled "Yogjakarta"), was evacuated during Mt. Merapi's eruption back in November - stranding Julianne in Jakarta for three weeks. Merapi has since settled down, and the local population is picking itself up and dusting itself off...literally. They are still cleaning up mounds of ash that devastated their villages (see below), but life seems to be getting back to normal, and the three of us set out to explore all that Jogja had to offer. It didn't disappoint.

Volcanic ash from Merapi

Notice the collapsed roofs and palms that were crushed under the weight of the ash

There are two World Heritage sites just outside of Jogja. The first is a Buddhist temple called "Borobudor." Most in Indonesia argue that this should be one of the Seven Wonders of the World and for good reason. This massive temple depicts Buddha's ascent to heaven with its ten levels - each telling stories of Buddha's life in their intricate stone carvings. The thing took 200 years to complete, and the workers actually had to stop working on it because the sheer weight of the volcanic-stones were making the entire structure collapse and sink into the ground. 

The top three layers contained these "bells." Each one contains a statue of Buddha in a different pose. The bells were filled with ash when Merapi erupted, so they must be taken apart stone-by-stone to clean them out. The temple has been rebuilt several times, in fact, because of the numerous earthquakes and eruptions that hit the area. Our tour guide explained that they are only allowed to reconstruct if they have at least 70% of the original stones.

All original carvings 

Next stop was an equally amazing World Heritage site; this time it was a Hindu temple called Prambanan. Each of these structures was devoted to either a god or their transportation system (bull, swan, and eagle). The biggest temple in the center was for Siva, the Destroy of the World. (Eeeee). Once inside, you could see the original stone statues of the gods or their animals in the cool shadows. Only priests (and camera-wielding tourists) can enter these temples to worship and collect holy water which they would pour on the statues of the gods and collect as it ran off. 

Photo courtesy of Jules. Michaela chillin' with the Destroyer of the World's personal bull.

One of the gods...of the non-destroying variety

Couldn't get enough of these stone carvings...

Just another amazing day in Indonesia. 

On Kupang

In all the excitement about English camp, I didn't have a chance to talk about the city of Kupang. It is a small, sleepy city, but it is blog-worthy for a few reasons.

The first reason is pictured above: Pasar Malam, or night market. The ETAs stationed in the city suggested this as our Saturday night dining option. It is one long street lined on both sides with food vendors. On first arrival, I immediately felt like I was transported back to my hometown's yearly street fair. There were a few noticeable differences, though. A) There were no carnies or over-sized, purple teddy bears. B). The dining options were displayed in front of each vendor on ice. Kupang is settled on the beach, so it's big on seafood fare. Mia (ETA) and I went to one such vendor and picked out the best looking fish we could find (Umm...the red one? Good thing Mia was an old pro at this by now). The fish was delicious, though I lost my appetite (and ability to look at Mia's pearl earrings without retching) after Jonthon dug the eye out of Mia's fish and ate it.

Then there was the popular public transportation option called the bemo. Bemos are small buses with benches on both sides and no door, so passengers can hop on and off with ease. Mini-buses are actually found all over Indonesia, but bemos are...unique. They are so unique that they are mentioned in Lonely Planet as a bass-thumping, decal-covered, must-experience wonders. Indeed, they are pimped out with flashing lights, deafening bass systems, and so many stickers that you can't see in or out. So, naturally, we had to try one. For about ten cents each, Jonthon, Victor, and I squeezed into a bemo. The slightly embarrassing/hilarious part was that since we are all about two to one on a size ratio with your average Asian, four or five school kids gave up their seats and hung out the door so the bules could have a seat. And then...more piled in. What?!?! There were folks sitting on top of folks and touching in ways that would be a living hell for anyone with a 'personal space' issue.We just thought it was really, really funny.




The third and final stand-out point of Kupang is that it is one of the few pockets of Christianity found in Indonesia. The archipelago is the fourth largest Muslim nation in the world, but there are some very large sectors where missionaries came in and spread Christianity. We saw only one mosque and very few hijabs (head scarves), but we did see lot's of this:

Many of the bemos had similar Christian art, and you couldn't walk my too many shops without hearing praise music (in Indonesian, but it turns out Christian praise music sounds just about the same everywhere). The best part for me was on Sunday morning when Jonthon and I were taking ojeks into town to meet with Victor and Mia to prepare for camp. Families, dressed in their Sunday best with Bibles in hand, were strolling to church. There are churches in Jakarta; I've been to a few, but this was different. A feeling of joy and comfort flowed over me as I watched the familiar procession. I know it sounds hokey, but it really affected me. It was almost a sense of being home...I knew this. Just watching them, I felt like I fit in more than I had in the last five months.

So, between street fairs, vehicles breaking local sound ordinances, and Sunday morning church, Kupang is closer to home than any place I've been in Indonesia so far. Nice.

What a Wonderful World....

Put one more tack on the map (or torn up post-it in my case since I can't damage the walls in my fancy-pants apartment...but I digress). Last week, I traveled with fellow ELF, Jonthon, to the city of Kupang in West Timor. This trip was simultaneously the furthest East and the most rural part of Indonesia I had been to. We were there to conduct a three-day English camp and teacher training for some high schools in and around the city. 

What a better way to open up this trip than by actually visiting a high school. Lucky for us, there are two Fulbright English Teaching Assistants (ETAs Victor and Mia) teaching in high schools in the area. On the first day we decided to go check out Victor's school. After a very long and uncomfortable ojek ride - we got lost and had to stop to renegotiate the price several times (well, Jonthon did this as his bahasa is far superior to mine)- we finally arrived at the opening of a dirt road which would eventually lead us to Victor's school. We met Victor and walked down the dirt road to his school. 

 

Victor's school had about eight classrooms, two of which were located in this pole barn with a tin roof...It rains in Kupang... a lot.                         Victor, being the stuff that Fulbrights are made of, takes it all in stride. Despite that he can't hear himself think, let alone talk, in this tin shack, he makes it work.

Rain aside, Victor is up against teaching English to students who have no reason to believe that they will actually ever use English. These students have never left their island, and since Kupang is not the tourism capital of Indonesia (we were the only bules around for miles), learning English rates pretty low on their priority list. Still, with no motivation, photocopied books (if they're lucky), upwards of forty kids per class, and spotty electricity, we witnessed those kids having fun learning English. We even got in on the action by leading teams in a Scattegories competition. It may have been the novelty of having some bules in the class (it's a good bet that we were the first white people these kids had ever seen - seriously), but I'll take it.

After our visit, it was time to get to work. We arrive at our camp site and met the twenty-seven high school students who would be with us over the next three days. These kids came from slightly better schools and had slightly better English. The building didn't have a tin roof (it didn't have windows or doors either, but let's not be choosey beggars), so that looked promising. We spent our first three hours together getting to know the students and their English levels through some fun games. Jonthon learned very early that one of the students was a pretty fantastic beat boxer. And, since Victor was also a closet break dancer, this was bound to happen:

After this random display of awesomeness kicked off the day, the camp counselor in me came out, and we had the kids doing Hokey Pokey challenges, miming, human knots, Simon Says, and the like. There wasn't a lot of sitting. But, there was a lot of English. The most fulfilling part for both us and the kids was their final project. On the first day, we had the kids listen to and analyze Louis Armstrong's Wonderful World (special thanks to Megan and Jolie). We let the kids listen to the song a few times and write down what Louis saw (I see trees of green...red roses, too). Despite the clear generational difference, the kids really got into Louis and were singing along by the third playing. On the second day, they had to write ten things that they saw in Indonesia, present or future, good or bad. On the last day, we asked them to write their own song (Wonderful Indonesia) using the ten items they'd written and a template of the song we created together by figuring out the stanzas and syllables in each line. In the first two stanzas, they wrote the bad things, and Jonthon changed the chorus to "And I think to myself...how can I help this world?" The last two stanzas were all the wonderful things they see. They nailed it.

Those kids held their lyrics like they were the best prize in the world. They wrote an entire song in English. Damn fine songs, too. When it was time to go, there were pictures and tears. It was an experience that none of us will ever forget. I even received this email from Gusti, one of the students, a few days after returning to Jakarta:

hi Jackie...!
I miss you guys...!!
I'm crying right know...this my unforgetable experience!

thank you,,for teaching us english...!

I hope you can give me your facebook name,,so ican add you to be my friend...!
that's will be great..!
bye. :)

And that is why I'm a teacher.

Native Speaker

The new sign for my office. I feel cheapened somehow. But, can't help but chuckle.

Five Months in and a Few Steps Closer

I spend a lot of time as a passenger in Jakarta since to drive is to gamble with one's life. Being a passenger gives me a lot of extra time to think. I think about my job and tasks at hand, but just about every day I also think about how incredible it is that I'm here. I'm in Indonesia. Halfway around the world. Doing what I love. It's five months in now, and I still feel like I need to pinch myself as I watch Jakarta pass outside my window.

Early on, I began gauging my level of integration into society by the type of vehicle I was in. During my first few days in Jakarta, all of the ELFs and I were toted around in a giant, cushy charter bus. I was literally elevated above the street level life of the city, still a disconnected visitor observing from a distance.

Then, I moved a notch down into the taxi level. Other Indonesians use taxis; I was getting closer. Other expats also use taxis...a lot. So, while I was being a little more independent - hey, we don't have taxis to flag down where I come from; it's a big step for me - I was still floating above real Indonesian life.

When I started working, Sebasa provided a driver. Now I get to cruise around in a police car. It's not marked up like a squad car, but it is painted the dull gray of police vehicles and has black and yellow plates denoting police. I don't know that this pushed me any further into the circle of true society, but now I was exploring different parts of the city. I was driving through the desa (the small villages contained between the high rises) instead of around them. At least the view that passed by my window was a bit more intimate.

Then there was the fateful Friday I finally took an ojek to visit my friends. Now that's more like it. There was nothing at all between me and my surroundings. I was weaving in and out of traffic, next to every other Jakartan who was trying to get around the gridlock. Dirt on my face, exhaust in my lungs, and a smile on my face.

The ultimate travel experience, though, was in Ubud. Lo had done some homework before he came over and had found a day-long biking trip through the country side. I'm not a biker, and even still, this experience will stick with me forever. Finally, I was in charge of my destination (well, I had to stick with our tour guide, but I could stop and weave as I pleased). I could pedal slowly through the country-side villages, wave to the children walking home from school, and say 'Selamat Pagi' (good morning) to the folks going about their day.

Nothing will change the fact that I'm tall, have white skin, blond hair, and green eyes; these things will always keep me from completely fitting into Indonesia. Even still, in five months, I've watched myself peel through the layers and get closer to living the experience rather than just observing in a comfortable, air conditioned existence. I still have miles to go; beyond the realm of travel into speaking the language and understanding the culture. One step (or pedal) at a time.

Teaching Teachers and Other Greats of the MidYear

All of the ELFs and Fulbright English Teaching Assistants (ETAs) in Indonesia had a chance to meet in Surabaya, East Java, for a midyear conference. We had a full schedule of outreach programs with local universities and high schools. With 14 ELFS and 44 ETAs, we visited 7 universities and 14 high schools, and we reached about 1,000 English teachers from all over East Java. That's something to be proud of.

These events are a big deal for the participants. Professional development for educators is hard to come by in Indonesia. And in a country entrenched in traditional lecture-style classrooms and restrained by resources and a lack of opportunity for students to practice English outside of the classroom, teachers clamor for any opportunity to learn new techniques for making dynamic lessons. The ETAs I worked with had the participants up on their feet doing the Hokey Pokey, playing games, and making up elaborate stories. We also were able to share a piece of American culture by presenting on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Mia, one of the ETAs, had an stirring presentation on civil rights in American, and it spurred a lively conversation with our participants. Some of them knew about Dr. King and some didn't, but all were moved by Mia's presentation and were curious to find out more about segregation in America then and now. Soft diplomacy. Very cool.

Some teachers getting creative with new materials

Birds-eye view of high school students eating lunch. They pile everything into either a piece or paper or banana leaf fashioned into a cone. Green and less dishes. Dig it.

The MidYear conference wasn't all work, though. Our fearless leaders at the Embassy arranged some sight-seeing around Surabaya. Surabaya is the second largest city in Indonesia (after Jakarta), and it and the surrounding areas have lots to offer. The first place we stopped was at a place called Lapindo. We parked along side of what appeared to be a giant dirt wall stretching for miles on the side of the highway. A few bamboo stairways led to the top of the dirt wall. Once you got to the top, all you could see for miles was a vast stretch of caked and cracked mud. Then, in the distance, was a mud volcano. Eruptions of mud and steam were spewing twenty feet into the air. Read the article linked above to learn more, but basically this volcano began spitting up mud in 2006 after some oil drillers accidentally hit it (oops). Since then, it has destroyed whole villages, and it isn't predicted to stop for thirty years.

The villagers whose houses were destroyed, hover around the scene and try to sell DVDs about the phenomenon or offer motorbike tours around the area. They'll do anything to get a buck for their families struggling to get back on their feet in the government-funded refuge areas.

Next, we went around to see some candi (pronounced chandi) - Hindu and Buddhist temples that dot East Java. These impressive structures aren't used anymore beyond being popular sites for romantic strolls among the local teen population, but you can still see ancient statues of Hindu gods. 

One of the sites, called Candi Tikus (Rat temple) was named so because it was discovered after the local farmers complained about an abundance of rats eating their crops. After some investigation, they unearthed a beautiful temple and bathing pool that the rats had been using as their personal living space.

 

Finally, we stopped by a local Buddhist monastery and a gigantic reclining Buddha. Since I've never been anywhere near a Buddhist anything, this was a particularly neat experience.

Lotus

I hope you can get the scale here. The elbow point would probably hit me waist-height.

Indonesian culture is so varied from one island to the next and even from one side of an island to the next. I've decided to stay two years partially so that I can continue exploring all of it. I'm halfway through my first year, and I've barely dented all that the archipelago has to offer. This trip helped me to refocus those efforts. Until the next big discovery...

Swingin' Abroad

I blinked and now I'm staring at the second half of my fellowship. Holy crap. Before I can look ahead, though, let me back up and cover some stuff that happened since Pontianak. 

First off, I had a visitor. My boyfriend, Lo, was able to come out for three weeks in January. We trekked around Lombok and Bali for a week, took cooking classes, committed random acts of dancing, and brought in the new year with didgeridoos.  Poor guy had to spend the following two weeks hanging out in or near my apartment while I worked. A bonus to this, however, was that he had time to record all of our adventures on his own travel blog. So, with his permission, I invite you to check out our trip from his perspective: Lombok and Gili Islands and Bali. I couldn't have said it better myself.

The day before Lo had to leave was by far the most memorable. I had arranged for us to teach a swing dancing lesson with the same group of high school students Jules and I visited for Thanksgiving. If you remember, back in August I listed bringing swing dancing to Indonesia as one of my goals. This was one goal I would have been happy to let slip, but with Lo coming and my connection to an eager bunch of high school students, the opportunity couldn't be passed up.

The result was better than I could have imagined. Okay, okay, so maybe they didn't learn a whole lot about English, as we mostly taught them uber useful swingspeak like, yehoodi, shorty George, and boogie back, but they did get a window into a piece of American culture that they won't find on MTV or facebook. And, they/we had a blast doing it. We ended up teaching them a popular swing line dance called "The Jitterbug Stroll" because they are already familiar with line dancing (poco poco - Indonesian electric slide), and I wasn't sure how receptive they would be to holding hands with the opposite sex (they weren't at all receptive to it). I was super impressed with how quickly they picked up the moves. But, don't take my word for it, check out the video here.

It was incredible to be able to share a piece of my life and American culture and, at the same time, give these kids a memorable experience that they couldn't find anywhere else. Check that one off the list.