A little bit o’ this, a little bit o’ that

It is definitely true that the second year of Peace Corps flies by. While I have still be teaching, I have been investing a lot more time in travelling around the area and spending time with friends.

Here are some snapshots of the festivities I have been up to.

Riza’s wedding

Riza and Lia signing the legal documents

Riza is my close friend in Mojoagung. He is the 10^th of 12 siblings (one person died though, as a baby) and my host cousin. 

Here it is, the picture I have been waiting for for 16 months. All 11 siblings!!!

Just a few of the grandkids...literally, just a few of them. There's about 35 and counting. 

We also work at schoo together. His journey to marry was a tumultuous one. He was dating a girl for about 3 years and wanted to marry her. However, his parents didn’t approve because they didn’t know her and didn’t want to get to know her. Additionally, they had already arranged weddings for all their other childern (save one), so they wanted to arrange Riza’s wedding, too. He was heartbroken but as a good Muslim son does, he did what his parents asked. He met with the first girl they wanted to set him up with, but he really wasn’t feeling it, so that quickly ended. The next girl, Lia, was apparently more his type because a few months later, they were married. How well did they really know each other before getting married is not clear, though my guess is not well. Riza’s other siblings hardly knew their spouse before marrying. One sister-in-law, Dia, told me that she was scared to marry Ria’s brother Lutfe. Lutfe had really long hair that he didn’t cut until the day before the wedding, so she thought he was a little crazy! Fit and Khuna, Riza’s sisters, married men about 10 years older than them.

Riza and Lia at the ceremony at her house. Check out that fancy background!

Anyhow, Riza and Lia clearly met a few times and got to know each other a little. At least to the point where Riza would come to school and I would be able to tell when he’d been to see Lia because he was so upbeat and smiley.

Me: “You just saw Lia, didn’t you!?”

Riza (huge smile): “Yes, how did you know?!”

Me: “You are beaming!”

Riza (blushing, if a brown-skinned Indonesian could blush, that is): Eeeeeeeeeee!

Aisyah and Salma, the cutest wedding attendees and Riza's nieces. 

Riza and I playing with Lia's hijab after she took it off! 

Riza (married the day before), brings Lia to his house, accompanied by her parents.

Costume change! This is at the reception at Riza's house.

Lia sans tons of make-up

Cooking up a storm!

Spying on Riza's make up session!

Al Banjarian. Riza's friends spice up (or maybe "holy" up) his wedding part with some Arabic tunes. Aka reciting the Al Qur'an. Best to just call it what it is...

Teaching 'em young! 

The crew Lutfe and wife Diah, Khuna (with the knife pointed at her brother), Titik, Nisak and Yul's wife Titin. 

People were EXHAUSTED! Just sleeping anywhere and everywhere!!

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 That crazy day when I took 18 kid to the pool…by bicycle

If you give a mouse a cookie, he’s going to ask for milk.

If you tell a neighbor kid that you went swimming, they are gonna ask to go with you sometime.

If you promise them you will take them, they are gonna invite their friends, too.

I knew all this, yet I was shocked by the result of this group. As soon as I promised to take a handful of these kids to the pool, I knew that there would be a ton more who wanted to come. So I told them for every 3 kids, one adult. No adults, no pool. I was not about to bike with a million kids down a very busy road (picture highway 19 in Sun Prairie, or the highway into Northfield at Carleton).

Right before I freaked out they were gonna drown!

The morning came and the one other adult girl who was committed to going with me very Indonesian-ly cancelled. I was left madly texting all my friends. “Have pity on me! There’s a million kids going to the pool with me!!” After a 45-minute, anxiety filled waiting period, six of my friends were ready to chaperone the 18, yes, 18 kids. Lord.

Endah is endel (loves attention)!
 

We set out for the pool at least three miles away on lots of bikes. All my friends were on their motorcycles with kids hanging off the front and back. That still left about 12 kids on bikes. Imagine a long line of kids going down the highway with a white lady screaming at them to get to the side. Cars are whizzing past, the kids (who have never biked outside of the village) are passing each other on the busy road. The motorcycle-riding chaperones are going forward and falling back to scold the kids to stay in line.

Check out that awesome Muslim lady bathing suit!!
 

Miraculously, we made it there and proceeded to swim. And by swim, I must point out that only about 10 of these kids, if even 10, could actually swim. So there was a lot of me catching kids as they went down the waterslide. Only 2 of the girls went in over their heads once and almost went under. Fortunately, one of the chaperones was there, because God forbid an Indonesian pool have a lifeguard. Aka, there were over 150 kids there and no lifeguard anywhere.

The crew. Lord. Have. Mercy.

Thankfully, Aan was ready with tools in his motorcycle for when one of the kid's bikes needed some repair!

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Weekend at Rois's House

Aside from being my es degan (coconut juice) provider, Rois has also been a close friend since my arrival! He was my Bahasa Indonesia/ Bahasa Jawa teacher for 2 months when I first arrived in Mojoagung. He is fluent in English, Javanese, Indonesian, and Arabic. He’s a middle school Arabic teacher now, but he’s going to school for a second undergrad in English.

I met his wife Linda and son Azam and quickly fell in love with his family. 

Rois and Azam

I have stayed the weekend at Linda’s family’s house, and a few weeks ago headed over to Rois’s house in Mojokerto city. We made delectable gurami bakar (grilled fish). I played with Azam. And I drank about 5 glasses of es degan. Oh enak!

I was coached through cleaning and cutting the fish, but Rois was unsatisfied with my crappy job. Whoops…

Filet that fish!

Gurami Bakar (Grilled carp), oh enak!

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MGMP Mojoagung

MGMP is a group of teachers of the same subject area who get together and share ideas and information about the subject area. I attended a few times with my school, but the English MGMP was sorta a drag. So I made my own!

If you’ve ever read the book The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, you will be familiar with a “connector.” A connector is a person who is very good at bringing his/her various social networks together and introducing people to each other. Since my Carleton days this is something I have loved to do, and my new MGMP is no different.

Commands, maybe? "Raise your arms!"

So far, we have met 3 times. We have had PC volunteers, middle school English teachers, high school English teachers, student teachers, university students, private English tutors, and general English enthusiasts (read: Rois!) come to the meetings. We have a blast hanging out and chatting. The best part is that the attendees bring other friends, so the connections keep growing. My hope is that this can be a really sustainable resource for English speakers to gather and hang out even after I leave.

Unscrambling a story, "The three little cows" (best not to use pigs here as they are Muslim!)

We have shared English vocab/grammar games, storytelling, Total Physical Response (TPR) activities, and I remain nothing short of dumbfounded by the humility, fluency, confidence, and passion of these people. When people ask me how to help the education system in Indonesia, I tell them that they don’t need me. The resources and the outstanding teachers are already here (like everyone who comes to the MGMP). They are simply overworked and underpaid.

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 Lilik and Faik

I swear that friends in my village just come out of the woodwork.  I didn’t know Faik and Lilik well until about 6 months ago, and now we are joined at the hip! Faik teaches LES for elementary students in the evenings (tutoring). I teach about 10 elementary school students English on Tuesday afternoons at her house. After that, we usually cook and hang out together.

I taught them the card game President.

Because this is not the USA with “beverages” as Julia says, we use powder or make-up to draw on each other’s faces when we lose. I was introduced to this concept months ago, but my friend Brian was totally confused when we played cards with our friends when hiking Semeru.

Coret!!!

Brian: “Why do they drink a glass of water when they lose?!”

Me: “Brian, this is Muslim Indonesia. Ain’t no alcohol here!” So the loser’s choice is to get powder on his/her face or drink a full glass of water. Brian promptly concluded that if anyone was gonna get sick from this drinking game, it was not alcohol-related but the fact that that cup was dirty and definitely had some bacteria growing on it. That’s living on the edge for this particular group of Indonesians, I guess!

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Idul Adha

Idul Adha is the Muslim holiday to remember the time Abraham was going to sacrifice Ishmael but God delivered Ishmael and provided a ram instead. In the Christian story (Genesis chapters 16, 21, and 22), Abraham is going to sacrifice Issac because he is the true son of Abraham and Sarah, the son that they waited to have for so long. Ishmael was the son of Abraham and Hagar, a maidservant of Sarah. God promised Abraham many descendants but Abraham essentially got tired of waiting and had a child with Hagar. This son, Ishmael, would have descendents who became Muslim, while Issac’s descendants would be Christians.

Walking the goats pre-slaughter

Muslims do not believe in animal sacrifice as a way to be forgiven of their sins. It is simply a way to remember the sacrifice of Abraham, God’s mercy, and the sacrifice of ourselves as we serve God on earth. Additionally, one of the five pillars of Islam is to give to the poor, and giving out the meat from this sacrifice is a way to do so.

Nothing like watching a cow die while one's name is on the list of people for which this cow is being sacrificed! (Clarification, not MY name, just names in general)

My school sacrificed 1 cow and about 6-7 goats. Cows and goats are very typical of Indonesian sacrifices. Maybe a lamb or a sheep here or there, too. One of the PC staff went to the Muslim country of Morocco last year at Idul Adha, and she said that they celebrate this holiday there even more than Idul Fitri (the day after Muslims finish fasting for Ramadhan). She said the streets were literally red with blood. In this part of Indonesia, this is not the case. Generally, people gather at their mushollas (small mosques) by their house to sacrifice a cow or goat with their neighbors. They distribute the meat to the neighbors and that’d that. My school distributed meat to all the teachers (this year I got some good cuts of meat as opposed to last year’s mixture of innards, skin/fur, and a little meat!), the poorer students, and community members.

People are always strangely gleeful to have their picture taken as they hack away at the meat...
Note that my students are just sitting around the meat in their school uniforms that they will just put on again the next day for class...

Portioning out the meat, just on some old tarp. 

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English Camp

This English Camp could not have been more awesome.

I didn't plan anything, so it will be 100% sustainable.

My girls! 15 people in a gutted out van? No problem-o!

The woman leading it is named Bu Yam. That’s “Boo Yum.” The co-leader was a woman named “Sofa.” “You can call me Sofa, but not chair!” she joked. The student representative was Hani. That’s “Honey.”  These are their real names!!

Bu Yam, after taking the center stage, held her arms up like this, and then prompted freaked out. "Hello, I am Bu Yams Imyute (The cute Miss Yams). I am so happy you are here. Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I'm standing like this and I haven't bathed yet! You poor people, smelling me!" What a lady!

I gathered 12 students, 2 friends, rented a van, and drove up to Wonosalam. We joined other high school students, university students, and community members in a beautiful, secluded bamboo structure.

Rosyid and our wheels

I presented about English idioms, symbols (I love you in sign language, you drive me crazy, winking), and how to interact well with foreigners. Bu Yam presented on fun grammar, and Sofa did listening and pronunciation. We had a campfire, a yell-yell competition (like group cheers), and outbound. All in all, it was an exhausting but very successful weekend.

Yell-yell competition (team cheer)

Andrian is the most spirited of them all. Rivaled only by another guy nicknamed "Panda."

Problem-solving

A birthday celebration. Hit with flour! Instantly aged for one's birthday

One cannot serve two masters

I have been thinking a lot about money lately. I’m a pretty frugal person in general (we aren’t cheap, right Sam…we are frugal!) I suppose I’m thinking more about money as I consider where I want to travel in these last 9 months in Indonesia. Unfortunately, my bank account has run low. Even though a plane ticket can be as low as $13 one-way (unfortunately, I booked said $13 flight too early in June 2014 so I will have to cancel it), when you jalan-jalan (travel) all the time like I do, your money is cepat habis (quickly gone!)

I’ve been very lucky here in Indonesia. I have travelled to Sumatra, Gili Trawangan, and Lombok in Indonesia; Singapore; Australia; and for Christmas 2013 I will travel to Malaysia. I have travelled within Java as well, namely to Mount Bromo, Jakarta, Jogjakarta, and Mount Semeru. I have loved each of these very unique experiences. But after Malaysia, that’s it. That’s my last big trip until the influx of Peace Corps resettling allowance in June 2014.

Travelling in Australia

I can’t complain one bit about all this travelling. It has been amazing. And I’m not soliciting any of you for money, let me make that clear! (Mom and Dad already gave me an early Christmas present, my ticket to Singapore! Remember the days of Barbies and Hot Wheels for Christmas presents? Man, have your kids gotten expensive!) The point of me writing about money is for me to reflect on how I do or don’t responsibly use money, and why it matters.

Using money responsibly

That is a hard thing to talk about. People each have such a different understanding of what it means to use money responsibly. In college, that meant saving my money to pay for each trimester at a very expensive school. Post college, that meant saving my money to pay rent and food. In Indonesia, the meaning has changed. I save my money purely for travel. Is that financially responsible? I haven’t saved anything for post-Peace Corps life. But my rationale is that I am given a couple thousand dollars from Peace Corps when I am done serving. That can be “responsibly used” to start paying college loans and buy a car, so why not just spend the few hundred dollars I have now??

Is that self-serving? This is a heart-breaking question for me to consider. I love travelling and exploring probably more than I love anything else (except for the people I love, of course). Do I have to give it up? While some will argue that all the travelling I do allows me to learn about the world and the people in it, when is enough enough? Do I need to travel to 20 countries? 100 countries? Did one suffice? Yes, I have learned so much about myself and my calling in this world by travelling. To Indonesia. I didn’t need to travel to Sumatra or Singapore to learn about myself. I got answers right here in Jombang, East Java. So why travel to Australia and Malaysia, too. Why not save that money?

More importantly, why not give that money to someone who needs it? Why not give it to yayasans (orphanages) or NGOs? I have neighbors who would love $100. They might make that much money in a whole year. Rather than go to Malaysia for Christmas, I could give 4 neighbors $50 each to ensure that they have enough to eat for months. They could actually go to the dentist when their teeth hurt instead of massaging their jaws with oil. They could pay for better health care or education for their children.  

Giving “stuff” in Indonesia

So do I run around giving money to neighbors? No, I don’t. I rationalize that they would not accept a large amount of money because of their humility. But really, my sample size of such humility is one, Anik. Here’s the background on this humility theory.

Anik and her son, Fadhil

I got a new camera from Carla in the US (thanks, again, Carla!) so I gave my old camera to my friend, Anik. She was reluctant to take it, saying that she was malu. (This translates as shy, ashamed or embarrassed. Unfortunately, I don’t know which malu she meant.) From what I could read, she was shy to take it because of what neighbors might see if they saw her using it. They know that she didn’t buy it herself. They may be jealous or gossip about her for receiving something like a nice camera.

Sure enough, my host family asked where my old camera went. I told them I gave it to Anik. A day later, other neighbors were confirming. “You gave your camera to Anik?” Yes, yes I did. A few asked why. (Probably wondering what Anik did to get that from Miss Sarah.) The answer is that Anik is my good friend and she will not anytime in at least the next 5 years be able to afford a camera. My other friends and many of my neighbors could save within a few months to buy one.

Then they ask the question that makes me want to scream. “Oh, you pity her, yeah?” In my mind, the word “pity” makes a person seem “pathetic.” Both these words have very negative connotations for me. I don’t pity Anik. I recognize that she is poor. I recognize that she is a beautiful, young woman with such a good heart. I recognize that she works harder than most women in this entire community, sorting recycled goods at the dump (making $2 a day) or cutting sandal straps (making 70 cents a day for at least 5 hours of work). I just wanted to give her something. I want her to see herself as I see her, so amazing. All this would certainly embarrass Anik if I gave neighbors this speech, so instead I just say, no, I don’t pity her. She has a young baby and I want her to be able to take pictures of him whenever she wants.

So, giving can be tricky in my village in Indonesia. The neighbors always know what I am giving, when I am giving it, the price of what I am giving and to whom I am giving. Because the politics of this giving are so socially and emotionally stressful, I tend to avoid it all together. I admit this is not the best answer to giving, but I haven’t found a less-stressful solution.

When I leave Indonesia, I have a lot of clothes and a valuable mosquito net to give away. I want to give the mosquito net to Anik, too. The issue is getting it there. Once it’s in her house, no one will see it; it’ll be in her room. But how do I get it there without all my neighbors seeing? Smuggle it in the middle of the night? Ridiculous. Well, I have 9 months to figure that out.

Pulling a “Jonathan”

As for clothes, my wise volunteer friend Jonathan (who recently finished his service) said this. “When I leave, I’m gonna put all my stuff that I don’t want in a box in my garage. Then I will say to my neighbors, ‘Goodbye, thank you so much for everything, and by the way, feel free to take any of the stuff in the box in my garage.’ And then I will hop into the car and leave.” (Obviously, I’m paraphrasing. But Jonathan also has a flair for the dramatics, so this paraphrase is pretty accurate!)

I replied, “Man, that’s a great idea. Maybe I will do that too, but rather than tell them the box is there, I will put it there and just text them about it once I’m out of the community.”

The rationale behind this is that it is very uncomfortable to give my stuff away. You have to pick the people. You have to go to their house with a bag (which I usually don’t carry, so for sure people will ask me what I have). You give it to them. Then other neighbors see the person wearing or using said object and “confirm” with me that I gave person x/y/z blah blah blah, didn’t you?  It’s all so socially political and I hate that.  There’s also the odd feeling of giving away my “old stuff” that I don't think is valuable anymore.

Another rationale for the box in the garage is this. When I come home from trips and bring my neighbors snacks, I am not lying when I say that it is ripped out of my hands and I’m pushed around. Obviously not everyone in Indonesia and not everyone in my village is like this. Most people are very calm and say thank you. Givine them gifts is very “normal” by my American culture. It’s only one specific group of my neighbors that go nuts, and it’s soooo uncomfortable. It’s like I'm being attacked by children AND adults for a piece of candy. So when Mom and Dad came and brought candy, I basically threw it at one of the moms so that she’d be attacked instead of me. And she was. But at least she could deal with it. So basically, I don’t want to be attacked when this group of neighbors descends on my clothes.

A final reason I’d love to just stick my clothes in a box and jump in the car is that I don’t want to see people pick up my shirts and exclaim how gedeh, aka HUGE, my clothes are. I don’t need to be called huge any more than I already am. And gosh forbid it be the last thing I hear from my neighbors, too. So forget that, I’m putting the box in the garage.

Giving money

Okay, back to a more intellectual analysis of giving. “Stuff” has been covered. What about money?

Seeing as I have lots of time on my hands here, I have been pretty good about reading the Bible. I just finished reading the whole New Testament…it only took 14 months to read! Slow and steady wins the race.  Anyways, lately when I think about hoarding my money for travel I think a lot about this:

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”  Matthew 6:24

I am at the point where I am starting to feel that I am serving money, not God. I think so much about how to stretch my money and time across the trips I want to take in the next 9 months. And because I feel so guilty about it, I know that I am in the wrong.

Remember this Biblical story? 

Mark chapter 12 

41 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.

43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”

The woman’s offering was way more pleasing to God. Why? Because she gave all she had to God, trusting that God would take care of her. I can learn a lot about giving from the poor woman. Right now I rationalize giving like a rich person does. I’ll give this much, God, because that’s all that’s left in my wallet after setting aside the money for my trip to Malaysia. I’ll give what I want to give, not give as much as I can actually give.

Nowadays, the standard sum for Christians to tithe is 10%. Click here for information! As I make $200 USD a month, I try to give to my churches here in Jombang (a Catholic church and  Pentecostal church, but that’s another whole story…) when I attend every 2 weeks or so. But by no means do my offerings amount to the full $20 that they should. In a good month, maybe I’ll hit $10.

So lately, I’ve been thinking about giving money. Do I give enough? Is 10% really all I need to give? In light of Syria and the mess there, I’ve been thinking about giving to NGOs that are serving people abroad. I am a person skeptical of just giving to anything because how do we know if it’s being used well? So I prefer to give of my time, like, say, moving to Indonesia for two years. Though it has crossed my mind that I could move to Jordan in June and help Syrian refugees there, what they really need is shelter and food and safety. The priority right now is not an English teacher. But because I don’t speak Arabic, because Mom probably wouldn’t love me moving to Jordan, and because I don't want to be the token white person who is always stared at, I will not be moving to Jordan. But the point is, how can I responsibly give to a world in need?

I know that the US has lots of its own issues and poverty, but the fact is, American poverty is not the kind of life-threatening poverty people in other countries face. In my larger community in Indonesia, I have really not seen any life-threatening poverty. There is a very small percentage of people, usually older or physically disabled, that ask for money in bigger cities, and I’d estimate over 50% of people here always give money to them every time they are asked. While they may only give a few cents, I’d venture to say that that sum quickly adds up.

Life-threatening poverty continues to plague an alarmingly large population of the world. Just look at the United Nation’s Millennium Development Goals. Set in 1990, the 25 years allotted to halving poverty are up in 2015. Have the goals been reached? While it’s great that the UN and its partners have made “significant progress” on many of the goals, that means that they only halved poverty. Maybe 200,000 million more people are being fed in 2012 than in 1990, but 850,000+ million people are still hungry every day.

From the Millenium Development Goals Report 2013

Because I am not a doctor, because I do not want to live abroad again anytime soon (that takes some kind of crazy, Daniel, Paige, Frieda, Carrie) and because my passion is education, I will not be moving to any other country to work with the UN or an NGO. So that limits my participation in said NGOs to raising awareness in the US, protesting, putting pressure on politicians (I’m convinced that if I was in the US right now, I’d seriously be looking for ways to join and/or start a protest about the US airstrike against Syria), or giving money. I’d guess that most Americans give money because it’s easy and as long as the organization is credible, why not sponsor them? But because of who I am, I want to give my time and sweat. Oh, Indonesia has received so much of my sweat!

Conclusions

This blog post is unsatisfying in that I am talking in circles and have no real conclusions for myself or for you. The point, I suppose, is this. I am looking for small ways to give back to my community. When Bu Likah gives me an egg or rice or other food to take home, I need to step up and reciprocate more. I have way more money than she does. And I can’t give Christians and/or Americans a bad name. I gotta be penuh kasih. What I want to say is that I want be full of giving/affection/loving others. It sounds weird in English. Penuh kasih.

Bu Khofso is one of my most giving neighbors

Bu Tin works her buns off at the school's canteen. Because I paid for her fare once at the pool, she doesn't want to pay for some of my canteen lunches. I literally have to shove my money in her pocket and run away!

As for trips, am I guilty that I have been all over Indonesia and some of my neighbors have barely been 2 hours away by motorcycle? Yes, I am very guilty of this. Do I want to give it up? Selfishly, no. Again, trying to serve two masters. Jesus told that rich guy, “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in Heaven. Then come, follow me. (Matt 19:21). No gets rid of their stuff better than my sister, Lizzie. I don’t know that she covets one darn material thing. I truly admire her for that. Some of the 12 apostles literally dropped their fishing nets in the middle of their day’s work (Matt 4:18-22), left their homes and followed Jesus. How can I drop my money and give up my idol of travelling to truly serve as God calls me to do?

If I’m not mistaken, it was Martine, a fellow volunteer, who reminded us to consider the financial strain it puts on people in our community whenever we are given something. Whether it be an invitation to eat at someone’s house or snacks from a fellow teacher or being sent home from a neighbor’s house with a bag of peanuts, that person made a financial sacrifice to give me that stuff. Most people in my village, truthfully speaking, can spare those small, $1 snacks to give me. They have nice homes that may have taken years to decorate, but their house is nice. They have motorcycles that cost, minimally, about $1,500 USD. They have cell phones that are not cheap. They use a lot of electricity watching TV. I don't think I’ve been in any home yet that doesn’t have at least one TV. Despite all this, I have learned to appreciate the little things that people give me so much more. So thank you, Martine! I am learning (albeit very slowly) to pay it forward.

The snacks with which I am often sent home.

So, which do you serve? I'm working to serve the former.

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.”  Matthew 6:24

Give back to Caesar what is Caesar's [the money for tax] and to God what is God's. Matt 22:21

Elysium

Elysium |iˈli zh ēəm; iˈlizēəm| Greek Mythology

1.    The place at the ends of the earth to which certain favored heroes were conveyed by the gods after death.

2.    [as a noun] (an Elysium) A place or state of perfect happiness.

At the end of August, my two close friends from my village Faik (27, teacher) and Lilik (20, university student) invite me to go to Surabaya and watch a movie. Lilik had never been to the movie theatre before! 

Classy girls going to the class mall!

We arrived in Surabaya (an hour and a half away by bus) and immediately I realized the potentially uncomfortable clash of worlds this trip could become. We went to Ciputra mall, 

one of the fanciest malls in Surabaya. Upon arrival, Faik saw the store Hugo Boss and promptly commented, “Waa, Ciputra buat orang kaya. Mereka boss boss, kita bis bis.” Translation (more or less) “Woo, this mall is for rich people. They are bosses, and we are bus people.” It’s safe to assume that most of the people shopping in this Hugo Boss, Versace- laden mall did not arrive on a public bus followed by a broken-down car (affectionately known as an angkot) like we did.

Bus people

Being classy in the fancy bathroom

The first hour of our mall trip was spent wandering around and poking through books at the bookstore. Fairly normal.

Lilik browsing the books. 

Next we headed to lunch at my favorite place in Surabaya, the sesame honey chicken wings place. Many a volunteer have been dragged here multiple times so I could eat these wings! (I reminisced of how excited I was to go to “Beef. O. Brady’s!” for my 20^th birthday…) 

Me in 2009, very excited about chicken wings.
Fast forward to 2013. Still very excited about chicken wings.  

I knew that I wouldn’t order the berry beer (even though I was depraved of it last time since most of East Java doesn’t sell alcohol in the month of Ramadan) because I was with Muslim friends. Sigh. I settled for the delicious strawberry lycee smoothie (Do we have that fruit imported to the USA? Because if we don’t, we should.) I was acutely aware of how much I was spending. Would Faik and Lilik be shocked? Were chicken wings, a smoothie, and other dishes too much? Too expensive? When I am with volunteer friends, Surabaya is a time to splurge and eat like kings. Well, eat like normal US citizens would (portion-wise and price-wise, that is!) But would my friends think that this was too extravagant a meal? The total cost for all three of us was $20 USD. Near our village we can get delicious food for a total cost of $3.50 USD (that’s the total price for all three of us!)

Yum!

Big chair, little person

Note: Faik went to college in Surabaya, so she is used to spending more money. Though I don’t know if she would go to Ciputra mall type places and spend that much money….Lilik on the other hand has no income yet (still a student), and while she is well-travelled throughout East Java as a chess champion (I'm not joking), I don’t know how often she buys expensive meals. I just texted them to ask if they thought that the movie and food in Surabaya were expensive. Lilik said the price was “normal and that’s how it is.” Faik also responded that the price was “just normal.” 

This dining experience in and of itself got me thinking. Why does food that literally uses the same amount of ingredients and spices cost so much more in the mall than in the village? Obviously, the cost of living is higher in Surabaya, but it really creates such a weird dichotomy between people. The rich Indonesians come to the village and can buy a ton of food. Poorer, rural-dwelling Indonesians go to Surabaya (only an hour and a half away) and can’t believe how much food costs. And the food is basically the same! What a scam! This can be said about a lot of things in the US, though, too. Why do celebrities buy shirts that cost $300???

On to the main attraction: the movie! We arrived at the movie theatre with the hope of sitting in The Premiere Theatre. In Madison, WI, the movies cost, what, like $12 now at night? For a normal seat in a rather old, not-so-clean theatre. In Surabaya, I paid $5 for The Premiere Theatre. Aka a lazy boy chair, a blanket, and someone to bring me my waffle (the waffle cost extra).

Julie and Matt enjoying waffles and the live of luxury that one can buy for $5 USD. 

 Unfortunately, The Premiere Theatre seat prices have increased to 100,000 Rp ($10) and that’s just too much, even for me (in this Indonesian context). So we got the normal tickets for the normal theatre, which is still nicer anyways than the East side of Madison’s cinema because we were in the fancy mall. Hugo Boss.

Lilik's first time at the movie theatre...and the unfortunate coincidence that our tickets' numbers were 666. On the other hand, when I told them we had the devil's number, they said that in Islam the devil doesn't have a number. 

We settled in and the movie began. We chose Elysium, an American film.

The following movie analysis is all seen through the eyes of yours truly, a Peace Corps volunteer who has lived in an Indonesian village for a year and a half and works with people who make maybe $2 USD a day.

First off, my experience watching the movie was different from Faik and Lilik because the movie was in English, though I found myself reading along with the Indonesian subtitles. The Indonesian language lacks the complexity of English. So when Matt Damon was dramatically explaining something, the Indonesian subtitles may have lacked some drama. Also, the subtitles were conveniently censored from all the F-bombs, sh*ts, etc that Matt was dropping.

Anyways, the plot of the story is this. The Earth of the future has been destroyed by humans to the point of where it is super polluted and people are living with disease and poverty. Los Angeles is portrayed as a desert of dirtiness; despair; sickness; hot and sticky weather; people working long, hot hours in factories; etc. On the flip side, the rich people built a space station and moved up there. They have green lawns, mansions, and a machine in every house that instantly cures every disease, ailment, sickness, cancer, broken bone, you name it.

What an injustice.

I immediately sink lower in my seat. Why did I choose this movie? Here I am, an American living in a place like Elysium (the space station) and my friends are living in a village, lacking so many of the opportunities that we take for granted in the USA. What did I do to deserve Elysium? Why can't everyone live there? Why can't the resources be distributed more equally so everyone wins?

It’s not even ten minutes into the movie when Jodie Foster, border control leader of Elysium, blows up 2 spaceships full of the Earth-dwellers trying desperately to illegally immigrate to Elysium. One spaceship makes it to Elysium, and the people are promptly hunted down and sent to a deportation site. The deportation site is sickeningly dark, very scary-looking, and on the outskirts of Elysium. I can’t imagine that a holding center in the US is much better. Now my mind is thinking about US immigration and the horrific experience some people may face, risking their lives to arrive safely only to face the government’s rath.

This movie is more than I bargained for.

The rest of the movie was not nearly as striking as the inequalities of the first fifteen minutes. It could be that my brain shut down from critically thinking lest I begin to weep of the unfairness of it all right then and there in my comfy $5 movie theatre chair.

Notably, there were multiple scenes about people dying of/suffering from curable ailments. But the cure was in Elysium, and the poor Earth people were not allowed there. Again, this reminded me of the people around the world suffering from malaria, children dying of hunger, women dying during childbirth, untreated people living with HIV-AIDS. All these are things that the US has effectively quashed or found ways to live with.

While the movie plot was great, I have to admit that when the movie ended, I had a headache. My headache could have been from the non-stop action (literally, non-stop, never seen a movie so full of action!), the bright lights, or the loud sound surround sound (as bad as the Javanese tower of speakers are for any and all events, let’s hope they never get around to using surround sound to play dangdut in the desa).

Faik and Lilik didn’t comment on the plot and the inequality, but I admit that I didn’t ask them. I wasn’t mentally, linguistically, or emotionally prepared for that.

The movie left me contemplating the social and economic inequalities that are faced by our world today. With increasing globalization, more and more people are watching American movies. While the plots of these movies may not accurately portray the typical American (who is a typical American, anyway?), the American setting in which the movies occur more or less accurately portray various places in the USA.

What do people abroad think of when they see Americans’ clean, manicured lawns in the movies? People’s state of the art medical care? Are they jealous? Do they wish they had that? Do they even notice the vast difference between their wood fire stoves/gas burners and our 2-decker ovens? Or is it such a given that “Americans are all rich” that people don’t blink an eye when they see these things in the movies? That’s “just how it is there, Miss.” 

On the flip side, when people abroad watch our movies and see gang violence, broken down cars, and corruption, do they shrug it off as the movies and not real-life America? 

Lauren, Miss Super Cogitans, watch and analyze this movie please!

Allie, CAMS major, please throw in your two cents!

SPOILER ALERT! If you want to see this movie, skip past this italicized section:

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Spoiler alert: And just because I tend to recognize Jesus all over the place in movies, I’ll add that this movie also has the Matt Damon Jesus. At the end of the movie, he knowingly sacrifices himself for the good of all the people on Earth so that everyone can live and be healed on Elysium. While I’m at it, Harry Potter, anyone? Sacrifices himself for all of humanity AND is resurrected after his “death.” Jesus certainly is a trendsetter.

***

Anyways, the point is that living in Indonesia for this long allows me to see the world through different eyes.  Perhaps a year and a half ago I may have also been bombarded with the theme of inequality when watching this movie.

But this year is different.

Because this year, I’ve seen hundreds of new Indonesian faces.

Because this year, I know hundreds of Indonesians by name.

Because this year, I love hundreds of Indonesians who may see this movie and perceive the themes I did.

And what do they feel, when they see the American “Land of Plenty” and then look around at their humble homes and their thin wallets?