Are you in the club?

 

I'm not sure when this bar/fan club was established- at least before my time in Indonesia- but I thought I would share the photo for those that don't understand how popular President Obama once was in Indonesia.

An Experience with Islam & Democracy

This last weekend I traveled to Aceh with coworkers from Tifa’s Governance and Democracy Program in order to visit some of our partner organizations there, monitor the progress of their work, and discuss how to strengthen democracy in the upcoming local elections.  Over the course of three days we met with a group of religious leaders, anti-corruption activists, political activists, and a school for democracy training.  We drank copious amounts of the uniquely brewed coffee for which Aceh is famous, but none of the special coffee that is ground up with Aceh’s other famous locally farmed good. (Think what crop is usually grown to fund violent separatist movements).

With the group of Ulama from one of Indonesia’s largest Islamic groups, Nahdlatul Ulama, I listened to them lament the corruption and money politics that has taken hold in Aceh and how they envision Sharia-based democracy thriving in the future.  Afterwards we gathered for lunch and coffee with a group of activists who discussed goals and plans to strengthen local democracy as well as specific projects for this fall’s election. Friday, after two cups of strong coffee and a bowl of lontong Aceh for breakfast, we met with an anti-corruption NGO and listened to their progress conducting community discussions and hearings to create awareness of the government’s budget management.  Afterwards we continued on to the Saree School and sat in on the first day of a group training on peace and democracy.  While the school offers trainings on topics such as starting home businesses for women and organic farming, these attendees were both young and old, men and women; all invited because of their leadership at the local level.

Getting out of Jakarta again was both reinvigorating and reinforced my sense of purpose here.  Working in a donor foundation office everyday makes trip to the field such a treat, as well as necessary to see actual conditions and progress.

Trip Part Two: Abby’s Visit and Travels in Flores

After almost two days of flight-travel, Abby arrived in Bali on Tuesday morning and we met at Warji Homestay in Ubud.  After a short rest we got a lunch of babi guling (roasted suckling pig) at the famous Ibu Oka restaurant.  Feeling satisfied, we wandered around a bit, stopping at temples, a bookstore to exchange books, and a salon for a little Balinese pampering.  That first night we did the touristy thing and saw a traditional kecak dance, and I actually really enjoyed it since they performed the story of the Ramayana.  We spent the evening drinking Bintang and Balinese arak (not the kind that makes you blind) with our friendly hosts (I had stayed here several times before), and I introduced Abby to Indonesian cloves. 

The next morning we caught an early flight to Ende in central Flores.  Determined to take public transportation to Moni, the starting point for exploring Mt. Kelimutu, Abby and I found our way to the bus stop and spent the hour-long wait chatting with locals and getting some cheap Padang food.  I think the bus ride was only an hour or two, but the windy road, clean air, beautiful views and entertaining fellow passengers made it a unique experience.  We easily could have passed right through Moni without noticing there was a town there, but luckily the bus driver knew where we wanted to stay and dropped us off.  Opting for the cheapest room with a balcony, Abby and I settled in for an evening of exploring and relaxing.  The exploring only took 20 minutes as it was a very small town, but we capped it off with a surprisingly delicious “traditional” meal of banana flower vegetable salad, coconut curry chicken and veggie soup.

We had made plans for two ojeks to drive us up to the mountain crater at 4:30am and headed out promptly into the cold mountain air.  I was actually freezing (too adapted to hot weather) and while Abby was holding on to her motorbike driver, I was hugging myself for warmth the whole 10km.  It was definitely worth it though when we reached the top and completed the last kilometer by foot right at sunrise.  From the top we could see all three of the famous crater lakes, one was black and the other two almost fluorescent blue and green colored.

Back down in the town of Moni we connected with a Dutch couple to share a rented car for the cross-island journey we had planned.  First stop on the agenda was picking up some Padang food and taking it to the blue stone beach for a picnic and swim.  Then it was on to the town of Bajawa and we passed incredible scenery as the road wound around dramatic hills and green rice paddies.  Bajawa is known for the preserved traditional villages with unique architecture located around it and we visited a few before driving on to Ruteng.

This leg of the drive included another beach picnic/swim and a few stops to take in the views, a picturesque lake, rice paddies formed in the shape of spider webs, and tumbling rivers and waterfalls.  The night in Ruteng provided us with both the most comfortable and unique lodging: a convent.  Warm showers (with shower curtains!) made up for the 9pm curfew.  We continued on to Labuan Bajo fully rested the next with a stop at a local home-run arak production business and bought a bottle of the strong brew.

The port town of Labuan Bajo was our base for the next three days to visit what was probably the most beautiful scenery I have seen in Indonesia.  We got a bungalow up on the hill and, once again, headed to the beach.  The next day I headed out on a dive boat and had two incredible dives, the first a beautiful wall dive and the second an extreme drift dive where we saw a black-tip reef shark, four turtles, and fourteen manta rays.  I hadn’t read ahead that it was manta season, which unfortunately coincides with jelly fish season so I sustained numerous minor stings, but the mantas, they are incredible, majestic animals.

The next day Abby, me, our Dutch friends and another American girl chartered a boat to explore Komodo National Park for two days.  We got to hike a bit on both Komodo and Rinca Islands, seeing just a handful of the famous dragons in the wild but piles of them waiting outside the park’s canteens.  We snorkeled at two picturesque beaches, slept on the boat roof underneath the stars, and sunbathed on the prow of the boat.

Wednesday we caught a flight back to Bali and spent one night in Sanur before flying back to Jakarta.  Then it was time for me to show off this polluted mass of a city I live in.  Having Abby around energized me to do some actual tourist things though so we went to the top of the national monument Monas for views of the city, walked around the old city of Kota to see colonial architecture, old ships at Sunda Kelapa, tasted the most expensive coffee in the world at a chain named after it, Kopi Luwak, and of course, went out clubbing.

Saturday was Abby’s flight home and after a full day, and loaded with souvenirs, she caught a cab to the airport.  Overall it was an amazing trip, so much better for having done it with close friend.  She didn’t help my resolve for staying here that much longer though as her visit was a strong reminder of everyone I miss back in the US.

Update Part 1: VIA Conference and Travel in Bali

I think I must have underestimated my job at the Tifa Foundation because I was definitely not expecting to be as overwhelmed as I was my first week back at work.  Taking three weeks off work is never really a good idea, and as it turns out, even in Indonesia a lot can happen during that time.  I came back to a never-ending pile of translations to do, a mid-year evaluation with my Executive Director, hundreds of emails, website design work, planning needed for my next writing project and requests for me to create a work plan and new English teaching plan.  Consequently, writing about the past three weeks and what an amazing time it was, has been daunting and not prioritized until today.  But here it is, part one of my trip to Bali and Flores.  More pictures have been uploaded to Flickr for your perusal.

The primary purpose of my trip to Bali was to attend VIA’s annual conference, held in the culture-rich town of Ubud just like last year.  With a much smaller cohort of volunteers this year the actual conference was shortened and left us with a week and a half of discretionary travel.  This mid-year conference is always highly anticipated by the vols as a chance to escape the villages, speak English and eat Western food (or Cuban and sushi as it turned out) that can only be obtained in the only part of Indonesia that most tourists visit, Bali.

I began the trip by meeting up with a fellow volunteer, Derek, and we spent the long weekend before conference on Nusa Lembongan, an island off the southeast coast of Bali.  We got a room facing the ocean and then rented a motorbike to explore the island and its hidden beaches.  Our first stop was Dream Beach, which incidentally had the strongest pounding waves I have ever tried to play in.  After get tumbled around a few times and finding my hair saturated with sand, I resigned myself to the beach and the hotel’s infinity pool to test out my new waterproof camera.  Later we checked out another beach and drove around the small island to see the mangroves and the views.  The next day we went on a snorkeling trip but didn’t see anything too remarkable.  I want to come back again during late summer when the diving draws people from around the world to see the mola-mola fish.  On Monday we took a boat back to Bali and met up with the other volunteers and VIA’s Country Representative Sugi in Ubud for conference.

The five days in Ubud were spent discussing VIA’s Indonesian Program and brainstorming ways to improve the volunteer recruitment, orientation, and training processes.  We also reviewed current posts and looked at post proposals to determine the schools and NGOs we should send volunteers to next year.  Staying in Ubud was made even more relaxing as we did most of our work on our hotel’s expansive balcony that overlooked rice paddies and protected us from the drizzling rain.

We concluded conference on Friday with a group outing to a hidden white sand beach on Bali’s eastern coast.  When everyone parted ways, I got dropped off in the small port town of Padang Bai for a few days of reading, relaxing and snorkeling at its beautiful beaches while awaiting Abby’s arrival.

Update Part 2: Abby's Visit and Travels in Flores to come.

City mosquitoes are just as dangerous

Last night I was visiting a friend's place and as we sat down to enjoy a few evening drinks out on the front veranda I asked where his roommates were.  "Oh, one is in the hospital with dengue," he replied. With a casual tone accustomed to Southeast Asian-induced disease and injury I responded, "Oh really? Where did she get it?"  But then he came back with "Oh, from here.  It's the fourth case of dengue coming from this house in two months."  And that was when I asked for some bug spray. 

I have been warned that dengue is endemic to Jakarta and is especially bad during the rainy season, which is right now and promises to last for like eight months this year.  But I still rarely get bitten and even more rarely think to use bug spray, I mean, who wants to soak in Deet for a year?  But the possibility of Dengue, a mere 10 minute ojek ride away from my own home, got me weighing my options a little more.  Particularly since I will be going on vacation tomorrow to more rural parts of Indonesia where mosquitoes also carry malaria. 

Touristy Bali is first on my itinerary (there is my yearly VIA conference to attend) but after that I plan on traveling east to Flores island.  For this trip I have instructed my visiting friend (Abby!! yay!!) to start taking some malaria medication.  I learned this lesson when my last friend to visit chastised me for being completely oblivious to the possibility of malaria (I had already been living deet and malaria free in Sumatra for almost a year) and not warning her to take any medication.  Sorry Claire, but at least Abby will benefit from the lesson you taught me.  So with this new perspective I am going to try to be a little more responsible than the last time I took a friend to the far reaches of Indonesia and also try to locate myself some malaria meds in Bali.  They should be used to uber-cautious Western travelers looking for malaria meds right?

The Umbrella Runners

Tonight I learned a new Indonesian term: ojek payung.  As I tell you the story, keep in mind that payung means umbrella and ojek is the term for the motorbike taxis that prowl the streets and particularly enjoying heckling white girls in their overly friendly manner. 

I could see the ominous dark clouds thicken as I walked to the grocery store but with Jakarta’s unpredictable weather I hoped the downpour would hold off for my quick trip to get dinner supplies.  When I emerged from the store though, I was faced with a torrential flurry of rain that showed no signs of stopping.  So I debated my options.  I could wait for it to stop, but that could take anywhere from 5 minutes to 5 hours and was looking to be the latter.  My other option was to answer the call of one of the little kids that were surrounding the store’s entryway equipped with oversized umbrellas and offered customers a dry walk to the bus stop or home.  I thought I would try it out and approached one, told them where I was going, and was handed the umbrella.  This little boy, who told me he was seven, shivered uncontrollably the entire walk home.  Even though I offered him to stay under the umbrella with me, he was soak through, and barefoot.  When we reached my gate, less than a five-minute walk I handed him 7,000 rupiah (about $ .70) and he ran off, presumably back to the store for another measly fare.  My friends at the kos were impressed I gave him so much, and told me that those kids are called ojek payung.  They live in our neighborhood and this just highlights one of the entrepreneurial activities that impoverished urban kids will do for a little cash.

On confusing my house maid

Yesterday my housemaid gave me lettuce.  This actually does have a story behind it and marks a significant step in our kitchen relationship.

I really enjoy cooking, even just simple things for myself, and living in Indonesia has not stopped me.  In contrast to my previous living situation in Jambi, I greatly appreciate the large kitchen equipped with a double burner stove and refrigerator at my current kos.  I know I could have hoped for an oven but that would have just been too much of a luxury, a microwave totally out of the question.

For dinner I continue to whip up mostly different kinds of stir fries, salads, and grilled vegetables, and only rarely when I do cook rice it is the less common red or brown rice.  To that you may wonder if I eat and enjoy Indonesian food, to which I would respond a definite yes.  Everyday at work the office cook creates a small buffet of delicious Indonesian dishes (plus our 3pm snack!) where I get my typical fill of grilled chicken, fried tempeh or tofu, vegetables cooked in oil, spicy sambal, and white rice, followed by some fresh watermelon or papaya.

My young housemaid, Saroh, is constantly perplexed by my recipes and every evening I can be sure I will have to answer the question “Apa itu non?” (What is that, miss?).  Her childlike curiosity is not that misplaced as she is practically a child and new to Jakarta from rural south Sumatra, but that’s another story to come.  So whenever I cook I show her the vegetables, condiments, and techniques that I am using and always offer her a taste.  In the past couple weeks I have shown her that bell peppers are in fact sweet and not frightenly spicy like she imagined, the sour taste of balsamic vinaigrette, that hot chocolate can be homemade and made to taste, that vegetables can be eaten raw in a salad with absolutely no rice or cooking required, and when cooked vegetables do not require salt or large quantities of oil.  Inevitable, at the beginning of my time here, was her other main question “Ngak pakai nasi non?” (Not using rice, miss?).  My meals that did not include rice stumped her and when I began to buy rice that was brown instead of white she accepted its higher nutritious value but did not endeavor to join me.

What this all boils down to basically is that at some level I have suspected that despite her sweetness, she thinks I am a little bit crazy.  The only foreigner living in our building I am the one who cooks funny things and is fun to observe.  Yesterday, however, was an adorable step when she excitedly announced to me that she had copied me and bought lettuce.  I replied in a joking fashion that she could make salads now and should use my oil and vinegar if she wanted.  That was apparently farther that she was willing to go and announced it was just to eat with rice and sambal (spicy chili paste), so it was really just a half step.  But she eagerly added, basically insisted, that I could use some of it too if I wanted.  So thanks to Saroh, today I am going to make a salad for lunch, and maybe bring our friendship just a little bit closer.

Another Untraditional Christmas

Almost New Years and I am just getting around to my Christmas update.  Living in Indonesia, an untraditional Christmas can be expected.  I longed to be back in the US as I listened to stories about snow, good food, and skyped with reunited family members.  But the holiday was quiet in Jakarta, families usually use any holiday to get out of the city so it was eerily quiet when I took a taxi to the train station.  We flew past the green lights of an intersection that normally would require at least a 10 minute wait.  I also took advantage of the government-regulated four day weekend and visited a Muslim coworker’s family in Bandung.  Honestly, the train ride itself competed with the fun of the visit.  Either it was one of the most beautiful train ride views I have ever seen, or I am easily impressed by nature after living in Jakarta.  For three hours of winding between forested hills, tiered rice paddies and over ravines, it was the perfect amount of time to relax and pull out a novel.

Once in Bandung, my friend Ari met me at the train station and we headed downtown for some factory outlet shopping that this city is famous for.  I thought it was amusing to compare this to the “factory outlet” shopping we have in the US, that terminology is more accurate here as the factories are located in Asia.  Jakartans and even Malaysians take advantage of the direct AirAsia flights from KL to Bandung and I was told prices go up on weekends.  I was going to call it my Christmas shopping but no purchases were made so Ari directed me to some Sundanese (the main ethnic group of West Java) dishes I should try.  We had a tofu and peanut sauce dish called baso tahu, nasi timbel which is a style of fried chicken and tofu with rice and sambal, and finished with ice cream with durian and chocolate- heaven in a plastic cup, eaten on a stool on the side of the road!

Afterwards we headed to her family’s home where her 3-year-old boy, parents, brother, sister and sister’s family were all hanging out.  While they were certainly not celebrating Christmas it was fun to just be with a family for the holiday.  Indonesians are such welcoming people that I was immediately just one of the family there and was given someone else’s bedroom for the night.  We watched tv and chatted, someone boiled water for me to take a bath and then it was bedtime so everyone else could get up for the 4am prayers.  The day after Christmas we went to the big Sunday market and went out for lunch.  After getting everyone’s stuff packed it was then time for the drive back to Jakarta.  I can’t comment on the view by car as I was of course passed out the entire drive; nothing new there.

Verbal Mishaps

While I was away on my trip, some of the empty rooms in my kos (boarding house) filled up and I returned to a much more lively and interesting living environment.  The new additions are all Indonesian and most are around my age and fun to talk to, eat dinner with and just hang out and participate in Indonesians’ favorite home activity- watching TV.  This development has also been a boon to my Indonesian skills as it expands the contexts in which I speak casually.  I was noticing that my vocabulary leans heavily towards political and development issues.  I could talk for ages about women's health, defending human rights, the plights of migrant workers, government transparency, and a new writing project is set to make me conversational in conflict resolution and community peacebuilding issues.  But I still get stumped when it comes to discussing household issues.  Hence my newest idea: sticky notes around my room labeling everything from curtains to drawers to faucets.  I am committed to balancing my language skills!

However, I fear this is becoming a detriment to my English again.  Friday night I was out at dinner with some American friends and feeling on the spot in the conversation found myself scrambling for the English word that means happening again and again.  The word that came out of my mouth: repetuous.  A couple minutes later I realized to my extreme embarrassment that I meant repetitive, not exactly what you would consider a challenging word.  I am hoping that verbal mishaps like this remain a rare occurrence as I try to maintain some language agility in while devoting myself to learning Indonesian.

A Week in Cambodia

Now back in Jakarta for a few days I have had time to get resettled at work, do laundry, and upload photos to my Flickr account.  Still I keep thinking about my trip to Cambodia when I see Buddhist image or see someone dressed all in orange reminiscent of the monks I saw everywhere during my six day trip.  I have to say that was not nearly enough time to fully enjoy such a beautiful country and hope to return to mainland SE Asia for a trip to include Vietnam and Laos.  I am so glad I went there with my friend Katie who has spent the past year working in Battambang and was patient enough to withstand my ceaseless questioning about Cambodian life. 

We flew into Phnom Penh from Kuala Lumpur last Thursday and checked into this adorable little hotel she had booked for us- across the street from the Tuol Sleng Prison from the Khmer Rouge days, a very sobering place to visit.  While Katie did some errands for the café she is helping open in Battambang, I had all day Friday to explore Phnom Penh and was pleasantly surprised at how livable a city it is and how cool the weather was!  I toured the National Museum, the central market, Wat Phnom, the riverside tourist strip, and the Russian Market, famous for cheap knock offs of Western brand clothing and tons of beautiful silk scarves.  Friday night we caught a six hour bus up to Siem Reap and the sweet digs Katie got us at the Golden Banana.  Maybe resting and taking this easy would have been the best decision for the day before running a 10K, but instead I spent the entire next day wandering around and climbing up temples at Angkor Wat.  There are so many temples and they are all so spread out that everyone rents tuk tuks for getting around.  I was able to see about four of the most popular temples, Ta Phrom, Preah Khan, the Bayon and Angkor Wat just in time for sunset.  They were truly amazing and I relished every time I was able to escape the hoards and wonder at them in peace.  I hope to go back some day and explore some of the more remote ones but I am extremely happy with what I was able to see.

The next morning Katie and I woke up bright and early (even though I was still a tad bit sore from my hiking the day before!), grabbed some bananas, and headed to the race.  Thankfully it started before 7am so the weather was still cool and we were actually shivering on the tuk tuk drive.  As my first 10K race ever it was exciting to run with so many people from around the world and especially touching to see the disabled participants as the race was put on as a benefit for Cambodian land mine victims.  The race path started in front of the main Angkor Wat temple and then meandered through the forest and around a few other temples.

 

Afterwards we headed back to the hotel for a little rest and then it was massages and drinks to celebrate my 24^th birthday!  I don’t think I could have spent the day any better.  In the evening we headed to Katie’s home in Battambang for a little more celebrating with wine and a local favorite vegetable curry dish.  Monday I had the whole day in Battambang and we started out with a 30K bicycle tour that visited some local home industries including rice paper makers, a rice wine operation, and a place with the best rice cakes I have ever had.  It was fun to see local life and compare it to Indonesia, Cambodia is definitely years behind in development.

Finally, on Tuesday an early morning bus ride back to Phnom Penh let me see a bit more of the countryside, then I took a quick visit to the National Palace before flying home to Jakarta.  I have never taken a trip with such a packed schedule like this but I am so glad I got to see so much and enjoy it with a friend!

Revisiting Kuala Lumpur

Hello from the Malaysian capital, Kuala Lumpur, and truly one of my favorite cities in Asia.  I came here last February for an extended visa run and this trip has allowed me to explore the city and its surrounding sights a little more.  Primarily when I think of KL though, I think of delicious and cheap Indian food.  After spending my Thanksgiving evening in-flight, as soon as I checked in to my guesthouse here last Thursday, I dropped off my backpack and headed across the street for a 1 am dinner of Masala Thosai.  Delicious.

I came to Malaysia to meet up with my good friend and former co-volunteer in Indonesia, Katie.  I flew in from Jakarta, she from Siem Reap, and we both met at a bus station in South KL to catch a three hour bus up to the Cameron Highlands for a weekend of relaxation, hiking, tea drinking, strawberry picking, cool air, and views of rolling green hills and tea plantations that so sharply contrasted with my last three months in Jakarta.  I will post photos when I get back to Jakarta!

We came back to KL Sunday night for Katie to participate in her VIA conference- I just found out mine will be in Bali in January!  Being here has been interesting to see fellow volunteers that I last saw during our training in Chiang Mai a year and a half ago, and who are coming from working in Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, and Myanmar.  While they are at conference and after I submitted my Indonesian visa application to the Embassy here, I have had time to wander the streets of Chinatown, Little India, go running in the park below the Petronas Towers, and visit an amazing Hindu Temple set in some caves just north of the city.  I continue to marvel at the vibrant diversity you can see on the streets of KL at any moment, but would have to look much deeper to find in Indonesia.  Signs here come in four languages, Tamil, Chinese, English and Malay, so that while I know my Bahasa Indonesia can get me by when speaking with a Malay person, Chinese and Indians here usually just want to speak English with me.  I was amazed yesterday, when going out with co-vols how many of our combined languages came of use.  Katie made everyone a little curious as she skyped back home to Cambodia in Khmer, I spoke Malay with the cab driver to get to the Tamil/Malay movie we went to see, one friend chatted up a group of visiting Vietnamese teachers in his fluent Vietnamese, and afterwards at a Chinese restaurant another friend figured out our orders.  I just wish that when we were debating outside a Burmese restaurant that one of the Myanmar volunteers had been there to decipher the menu...

So it is exciting to see so many people come together, especially now that we have each been working in our posts for over a year and have experienced so much.  Getting such a diverse group of people together in a multi-cultural city has made the experience even more interesting.  I am even more excited now to be heading to Cambodia tomorrow to see Katie's life in Battambang and then to see the temples of Angkor Wat and run the Angkor Wat 10K Race on my birthday on Sunday!

Jambi comes to Jakarta

This last weekend I got to spend time with my oldest Indonesian friend Sumi when she came to Jakarta after attending a conference in Bogor. I didn’t really know what we would do when we met up, but when she said she needed to come by my place first because she had luggage I knew at least that meant she would be staying at my place. We went out for dinner Saturday night and ended up catching the new Harry Potter movie, though since we bought our tickets late, we had to sit in the front row with our necks crooked the whole time.

But it was fun to catch up and just chat with my old roommate/coworker; it was also good for me- a whole 40 hours of non-stop one on one Bahasa Indonesia conversations. It made me think back to when I was new in Jambi and we spoke mostly English with me trying to squeeze in my Bahasa to practice. Everyone at my office told me I would be fine in a few months and sure enough I was despite personal disbelief, and now I wouldn’t even try to speak to them in English. It is also really comfortable to speak with Sumi because she knows my ability more than anyone and our conversation is really smooth. Often when I speak Bahasa with an Indonesian who doesn’t know me, they are so surprised that I can speak their language, and they have their few lines of English prepared, that they are awkward to speak with in the beginning and aren’t really in the “listening to a bule speak Indonesian” mode.
Sunday we went to Blok M, one of the more massive shopping malls frequented by the Indonesian middle class. I found a blouse for $5 and a copy of Rudyard Kipling’s Kim for $3 and called that a pretty successful afternoon. For lunch we grabbed some ayam penyet from a roadside warung and then went back to rest a bit- the heat had been pretty brutal. Dinner was also street food and I really enjoyed this return to more traditional Indonesian life with her after having such a crazy hybrid lifestyle in Jakarta. I also really enjoyed being the host after all that Sumi has done for me. When Monday morning came I helped her catch a bus to the airport and promised I would come back to visit Jambi again in the spring.

Livestock everywhere, must be a holiday

It was almost impossible to miss that yesterday was Idul Adha, the Day of Sacrifice in Islam and one of the most important days of the Hajj pilgrimage. This day is most visibly marked by a nationwide mass slaughtering of goats and cows where families will buy one of these animals and then give away most of the meat to the poor. And remember this is Indonesia, where freezers, if you are lucky to have one are the size of a lunch box, so this meat is eaten immediately!  In local communities, mosques are usually the center of activity and people give according to their individual means so the poor can receive this charity.

The first evidence that this holiday was approaching were the large banners that pop up around town advertising the prices of “korban” (the animals to be killed) and contact number for you to order your own. Soon one noticed that livestock was entering Jakarta from all sides. You might see a truck barreling down the highway with a lone bull in the back, or maybe a goat tied to a tree in front of a shop down town. But most common were the random holding areas where these animals will wait their fated day in patience. I was somewhat surprised to see one pop up in my little neighborhood (it went next to the broken badminton court), but even more surprised to see one in the front parking lot of the National Ministry of Education with about 30 cows. A friend of mine even recounted standing outside of Grand Indonesia, one of the nicest shopping malls in Jakarta, and witnessing a herd of goats run across her path with seemingly no one in charge of them!

The evening azan on the day before also made it impossible to ignore the holiday because it lasted for almost five hours! Now I am not one to complain about a little call to prayer, in fact I think it is a beautiful sound. But I think my neighborhood mosque needs some singing lessons because it is just painful to listen to them struggle through, especially at 10:30pm when I want to go to sleep!

The day of Idul Adha is a national holiday and was a perfect mid-week day off. I avoided any animal butchering and went on a adventure to find some cheap headphones. And it did turn out to be a travel adventure within the city; I ended up taking four different kopaja bus lines that I had never ridden before and befriended a group of giggling 12 year-old girls who seemed to want to escort me between bus transfers.  The trip was a success as I once again can listen to music on my morning runs and I avoided having to see any animal butchering.

Rubber Time

Last week I made the mistake of arriving on time to a seminar. It was scheduled for 9am and my coworker even advised me to leave at 8am in case the traffic might delay my arrival. Following my more realistic estimation, I left at 8:30am and arrived at 8:55am- to a completely empty conference room and overly eager greeters. Should have known this was coming. Jam karet, or rubber time, is pervasive in Indonesian society- even the airplanes are notorious for being late. Last month I was invited to attend Tifa’s Board Meeting so that I could learn more about the grant-making process and I was surprised to realize, when I showed up at exactly 12pm, that even though the meeting was held at fancy Jakarta hotel it could still begin two hours late. Thankfully another coworker showed up on time and we got a head start on the buffet lunch as we waited for the others.

Honestly, by now I kind of enjoy jam karet; the luxury to leave and show up whenever is most comfortable for you without worrying that others will find your tardiness rude. The thing I just can’t understand is why do some Indonesian’s still show up on time and how do you know for sure if an event will be late? No one wants to make the mistake of assuming it won’t start on time but then arrive rudely 20 minutes after an event has begun.

I have found a couple consistencies thankfully. Internal office meetings, never start on time in Indonesian offices; conferences or seminars with attendees from different organizations, also never start on time, and moreover, showing up late is completely fine, as is not silencing your cell phone to a string of text messages announced to everyone by some popular hip hop song or even holding a whispered conversation. I know that this custom hasn’t pervaded the community of Westerners here yet because when I showed up late to a breakfast with friends from the embassy and blamed it on the traffic, my apology was necessary. Beyond that I am still testing this phenomenon out, kind of feeling my way through the dark and trying not to make any blunders.

Jakarta Update

The thin layer of dust on cars in Jakarta was pointed out to me by a complaining coworker yesterday.  Some of the ash from Mt. Merapi’s explosion has apparently made its way west to Jakarta.

And on another note, even though Obama almost had to cancel his trip to Indonesia because the ash made Jakarta flight travel temporarily dangerous, Obama has proven that Jakarta’s traffic congestion really can get worse after all.  Maybe less people will complain that his visit is for less than 24 hours once they can get home in reasonable time.

Luxuries of the Big City

Being in Southeast Asia has resulted in me becoming somewhat addicted to massages.  It is a habit that I am afraid will be difficult to fund when I return to the US, so I am thankful that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Yesterday afternoon I found a pleasant café (which I rode a kopaja to without incident!), and settled in for a long afternoon of working on graduate school application essays.  Feeling satisfied with my work but a little in the neck after peering over a laptop for too long, I decided to treat myself to a massage.

This was my first massage in Jakarta, yes I had gone a whole month and a half without, and it definitely was a different experience from the massages I used to get in Jambi.  To begin with, it was $11 for the hour compared to the $2.50 in Jambi (as a bule I paid $.50 extra since I was larger than Indonesians).  Additionally, the massage was conducted on a real massage table, in a well-established salon and I had a nice thick towel to cover me.  I found this quite disimilar to the thin carpet on the floor of a neighbor’s living room where I would be wrapped in one of the woman’s floral sarongs.  The woman at Bersih Sehat was also very professional and sensitive to my needs, even using some aromatherapy, which further contrasted with the women in Jambi who would massage the same area over and over until I contorted in pain, all the while releasing a continuum of grunts and even burps from their physical exertion.  So it was a pleasant but pricier experience; for me, a little Jakarta culture shock all over again.

Hope noone else saw that

The other day I thoroughly embarrassed myself when I slipped and fell as I was getting off a Kopaja, one of Jakarta’s broken down looking public buses.  As normal, the bus itself never fully ground to a stop, so when I leapt off it I was already a little unstable.  The mud, black with traffic pollution my tumbled landing and when I stood up, hoping vainly that the people waiting at that bus stop hadn’t noticed by embarrassment, both of my knees were stained black.  Frustrated but stubbornly determined, I continued to transfer and get on another Kopaja that would take me to the coffee shop Anomali for my planned afternoon of writing grad school application essays.

Later that night though, when I met a friend from my office, Arini, for some street food and to see a batik exhibition, I relayed my embarrassing story.  Her laughter, not restrained in the slightest, indicated my “specialness” in this incident.  It’s true I have never seen anyone so much wobble no matter what speed the bus was going when they alighted.  And being the only foreigner I have seen to ride these buses, I must have played my part well as the foolish white person seemingly lost in Jakarta.  Arini finally informed that the trick is to lead with your left foot, since even though it is not intuitive to do that, it is more stable.  I have promised that next time I will try the left foot, and try not to make a fool of myself on busy intersections.

Haram vs. Halal

While most people know that pork is forbidden to Muslims too eat, recently I learned of a new food that apparently falls into the same category of Haram foods, it is frog.  On a bus ride somewhere or other my conversation with two Indonesian friends went on to talk about strange foods we had or hadn't tried before (and living in Asia that list is very, very long).  Frogs, surprisingly, came up and my friend pointed out that she could not have eaten them because they are considered haram since they live on both land and water.  Now, I don't think I am the only one to consider that a strange justification.  So I decided to look into it, and did you know you can find answers to what is haram or halal on websites ranging from Islamic Awakening to Wiki Answers?  Well according to the former website, frogs are "regarded as revolting and unclean."  Peacock meat, on the other hand, is halal and good to go.  Considering I have had peacocks my entire life that was a little more disturbing- besides the surprising fact that these animals even come up for debate!  Wiki Answers just had a simple answer, haram.  Guess I am still learning new and fascinating things all the time!

Work + Travel = Awesome Long Weekend

This morning I flew back to Jakarta after a four-day conference about Protecting Migrant Workers on Lombok Island, just east of Bali.  I traveled here last February when Preethi came to visit me from Australia, but this time the focus was on researching the situation of Indonesian migrant workers and attending a conference put on by several of the Tifa Foundation’s partner NGOs.

The conference brought together about 30 participants from different NGOs, government offices, paralegals, and academics whose work and passion is on helping protect and educate migrant workers and their families.  This particular region of Indonesia has one of the highest rates of migrant workers, mostly due to pervasive poverty.  They generally travel to countries such as Malaysia and Saudi Arabia, legally or illegally, to take on jobs in places such as factories, palm oil plantations, and as domestic workers.  Ideally these men and women, often just teenagers, go and work for a year or two and send home enough money for their family eat a little better and maybe even build a new home.  Unfortunately, cases of abuse, unpaid wages and general maltreatment are incredibly common.  The worst trend I heard was of women who worked abroad as domestic worker, generally the toughest positions, and their husbands used the money they sent home to get married again!  These women returned to no home and a broken family. 
 
I spent my time listening to the conference attendees share their experiences with casework, public education, and struggles, and also interviewing both former and potential migrant workers, government immigration officials and other activists.  Previously I had only been mildly knowledgeable of this issue, but the trip was incredibly enlightening and I am facing a few writing assignments on my findings.  The interviews with locals also put my Indonesian to use!

Rice paddies, palm trees, and thatched houses of rural Lombok Island.

Lunch with migrant worker activists, the local specialty: freshly caught and grilled fish.

Village kids where I was interviewing former migrant workers.  Every Indonesian kid I have met loves to get their photo taken and then see it on the camera, more excitement comes if this is done over and over and over again.

 

The surprisingly nice resort where the conference was held.  But I forgot my swim suit...

The human victims of environmental degradation

A third Indonesian farmer has just recently been attacked and killed by a rare Sumatran tiger, and that is only counting since the end of summer.  The most recent victim, a 25 year-old chili plantation worker, was killed at the most northern tip of Sumatra in Aceh while two previous Sumatran attacks left dead a palm oil worker in September and a rubber plantation worker in August.

This unfortunate trend has been attributed to the rapid, and often illegal, deforestation in Sumatra that pushes tigers out of their habitat when trees are cut down for timber or to make way for crops, in particular palm oil plantations.  This then forces the animals such as tigers and elephants into closer contact with people.  Last spring it was big news in Jambi when an elementary school just a couple hours away was horribly frightened by two tigers that approached it in the middle of the school day.

The Nature Conservancy estimates that Indonesia's forests are disappearing at a rate of about 300 football fields an hour.  While the government has made some encouraging promises about halting deforestation, tangible positive results are still yet to be reported.