Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Schooled! in Bahasa Indonesia

I have had some very impressively intellectual encounters with Indonesians lately. I cannot claim to be a person who naturally gets into deep political or socio-economical conversations unless the setting is ripe. Say, four years at Carleton. But these opportunities to discuss politics or inequalities have become even more rare in Indonesia. I skim the surface of cheating and corruption when I talk with teachers at my school. This skimming the surface is partially because their response is often “This is Indonesia, Miss” (many people I know express this fatalism) and partially because I lack the vocabulary to express myself well. I explain to neighbors that yes, there are poor people in America but it is manifest differently. (But when they hear that some poor people in America still have cars, I lose them). As for in-depth conversations about the things that should really matter, I haven’t really gotten the chance to do that with many people. Namely, these conversations take place during the few times a year I gather with other PC volunteers.

However, last month. Oh man, last month. I woke up on the first day of Ramadhan break and I was like, “Man, I gotta get outta here for a few days! 2 weeks of sitting in the desa (village) with not much to do and people fasting for one of those weeks = brief prospects of interesting things for me to do.” So I hit up my activist feminist friends in Mojokerto and asked if I could come stay with them for a few days.
 
Nining

Nining and Risky


This blog post is dedicated to the Indonesians mentioned in the stories below. To Nining, Risky, Hari and Faridi. Thank you for humbling me and keeping me on my toes. Just because the USA is a powerful country and I have a top US education doesn’t mean that I am better than you or necessarily know more about what is really important. After all, who gets to decide what is really important, anyways?? 


INTELLECTUAL ENCOUNTER #1

I travelled around Mojokerto with them, including observing a demonstration of theirs. Some background about them first. Nining is 34 and married to Hari, also in his mid-30s. They are both working on their Masters Degrees in law. They work with Risky, a 19 year old currently in college. Nining and Riski are in charge of a women’s empowerment group in Mojokerto called Perempuan Mahardhika. It’s an NGO that gathers a few times a month to discuss women’s rights and educate women on a range of things, including their rights, health, etc.

In addition to leading this NGO, Nining, Hari and Risky are full time activists. AKA they have no jobs. They attend school, work at a café that Nining just opened (in order to employ the other activists, not for her own profit) and demonstrate around the county.

Now I have known only a very few activists in my time, specifically at Carleton. They do a wonderful job of raising awareness about current political, social, racial, sexual, economical issues on Facebook and in conversations around campus. But ask me if I have friends who protest frequently, and my answer would be that I don’t know a single person really who has protested. Like with signs and a megaphone in front of a governor.

But that’s Nining and Risky! They gathered money from a couple people and rented a house for 8 million rupiah ($800 USD) for a whole year to act as a home and the headquarters/office for organizing people. 10+ people regularly sleep there on 2 mattresses that they all share. (Risky stays here, but Nining and her husband are building their own house across town. Mom would say that makes them “independently wealthy” despite not working…) 

Family shot! 
The people that live there each contribute what little they can for cooking and buying supplies. They work for a few days here and there when then need to, but mostly they are meeting day in and out with factory workers around Mojokerto, organize them for the next protest, and educate them about their rights. There are labor unions at the factories but clearly they are not 100% effective if minimum wage is 1.4 juta sebulan ($140 USD a month) but people are only being paid 450,000 Rp sebulan ($45 USD a month).

So here I found myself, a 24-year old American at her very first Indonesian protest (just observing, not participating, Peace Corps! Not allowed for PCVs to be involved in political protests) for factory workers’ rights. Nining, Risky and a few other friends first drove around Mojokerto to factories to remind the people that the protest was happening that day. 
Gathering the people

People rode on bikes and motorcycles to the meeting point in town (some of them had to bike about a half hour to get there, but that’s nothing when you consider a man I met that bikes 15 km one way to work each day because he can’t afford to buy a motorcycle). Next, about 12 bicycles and 20 motorcycles made their way down the main street, honking and stopping traffic (note: they did get permission for this protest first!). Some of them were wearing red and 2 women had red flags with the organization’s name on it, but otherwise it mostly appeared to be a small group of passionate protesters making their way through the crowded streets of a small city indifferent to their woes.






They stopped in front of the bupati’s office (see the bolded part of the table below for who the bupati is). They had signs about their income, a chant about fair wages, and 2 megaphones.


Making the signs



Their protest lasted about 40 minutes, the group of 30 or so protesters monitored very closely by the handful of security guards/policemen in front of the bupati’s office, and then they biked/motorcycled home.



Indonesian bureaucracy:

Indonesia area
American equivalent
Indonesian leader
American equivalent
RW (rukun warga)
a few houses on a neighborhood block
Pak RW
no equivalent
RT (rukun tetangga)
a neighborhood block
Pak RT
no equivalent
Dusun
a neighborhood or sub-village
Kepala Dusun
Maybe the equivalent is the head of a neighborhood organization that plans events like neighborhood picnics
**Note that in Indonesia, the kepala dusun would also take care of minor political, social, and economic problems, not plan picnics!
Desa
village/very small town
Kepala Desa
City mayor
**Note that our mayors are usually representing a town that has lots more people than an Indonesian village. Our villages/towns tend to be about the same size as a whole Indonesian kecamatan.

Kecamatan
a group of villages, usually centered around one town
Pak Camat
no equivalent
Kabupaten
a county
Bupati
no equivalent

Provinsi
a state
Gubenur
State governor

Negara
the USA
Presiden
USA President



I asked Nining the specific goal for the day. In addition to her standard goal of empowering people to use their voices, today they wanted to bring the bupati’s attention to the people being paid below minimum wage, and also demand their Idul Fitri bonuses. (Every year, many companies give out the equivalent of a Christmas bonus during the biggest holiday here, Idul Fitri, which marks the end of Ramadhan and fasting. However, most factories were not giving out bonuses unless the workers protested.)

The protest appeared to have gone well. There were signs and some simple chants with the megaphone. All in all peaceful. I don’t know enough people passed by to say that they effectively raised the general public’s awareness, but the bupati’s soldier/policemen/security guards definitely knew the protesters were there!

I watched from across the road for abut 15 minutes until the soldiers and police officers started asking me too many questions. I was like, “Just stopping by to see the demo, see ya!” I had to walk off before people thought I was some American spy protesting…

The next day I met Hari, Nining’s husband. Despite only a few hours of sleep and over 15 hours of car travel, when he met me he directly launched into a conversation about socialism. It quickly became clear that a) I really don’t know anything about socialism, b) He and Nining are very passionate about Indonesia becoming a socialist country, and c) we disagreed that socialism was even possible. I argued that any place that had no government just won’t work on Earth. We are imperfect people and we will always be looking out for #1 and our family first. They disagreed and said that they truly believe that a socialist system is possible, where people are paid according to their work ethic. So lazy people will not be paid much and those who work hard will have lots of income. I countered that that requires someone to define what productivity and hard work and success are. He didn’t seem to think that that would be a problem…hmmmmmm.

Now if that wasn’t enough mental gymnastics (and trying to remember Professor Nadar’s Sociological Thought and Theory information at Carleton in winter 2010), consider this.

INTELLECTUAL ENCOUNTER #2

Later that same day, I got on the bus to go visit friends in Madura (result: Madura rocks, everyone should go there, especially to Brian’s beach!). I found myself sitting next to a young Indonesian guy named Faridi who just blew me away with his intelligence and oratory skills. Basically, I received a free university lecture for the hour and a half we were sitting together on the bus. While this lecture was delivered 100% in Bahasa Indonesia, he was so patient to repeat and break down his undergrad thesis. Faridi floored me. So far he wins the award for the most impressive stranger I’ve met!

We started chatting about who we were and ended up discussing his undergraduate thesis. He just graduated from UMM in Malang for international relations.

This is a summary of the potent information I learned. It’s a mixture of theory and his analysis. I couldn’t tell you which is already established theory and which is his analysis because this is the first time I’ve learned about all of this! Feel free to fill in the gaps and correct me where I’m wrong.

There are 3 traditional economic markets:
1.     Socialism
2.     Liberalism (capitalism)
3.     Mercantilism (this is like colonialism, in which one country takes control of and exploits another country’s resources)

However, there is also a fourth, less traditionally identified market.
4.     Islamic economy

The foundation of an Islamic economy is halal, the Arabic word for “lawful.” The laws are those in the Al Qur’an.

For the economic system to be halal: 
1.     Produk harus halal. The products sold must be halal. This means that meat must be raised and butchered lawfully, products cannot use pork or alcohol, etc. See here for the details. 
2.     Cara mendapat produk harus halal. The deal between two people must be halal, as in both people truly agree on the exchange of money for product or product for product.
3.     Cara menggunakan produk harus halal. The way the product is used must also be halal.

So there are currently 57 Islamic countries (according to Faridi’s calculations, with reference to the World Islamic Economic Foundation (WIEF)).  FYI according to the CIA website, there are a total of 267 world entities. A country is included as an Islamic country if:
1.     A majority of the country’s religion is Islam.
2.     The mainstream culture is Muslim.
3.     The economic system is Muslim.
4.     The country uses Islamic law.

Essentially, these 50-something Islamic countries in WIEF (established in 2006) meet and discuss how to best support other Islamic economies. After the American economy crashed in 2007, the Middle Eastern country superpowers (the 4 countries that are the wealthiest due to oil are UAE, Saudi Arabia, Qatar and Kuwait…I think. Fact check, please!) became wary of investing their money in America. So they turned to other Islamic economies. Like Indonesia.

Certain Indonesian banks are now in part owned and invested in by people/countries in the Middle East.

When I asked Faridi if the goal of the WIEF was to establish more and more Islamic economic systems (AKA to eventually convert many other countries to Islam), his personal response was no, this was not the goal. WIEF is simply a way to allow Islamic countries to trade with other countries that have the same values as they do.

I pointed out that these countries would someday permanently end their trade with the US because the US will never become an Islamic economy. He clarified that the whole country doesn’t need to become an Islamic economy. There are already (albeit controversially) cities in the US that are discussing what it would mean to implement Sharia/Islamic law in their communities. The countries of WIEF would be happy to trade with those communities.

***

The moral of the story is that Islam is growing. The power that Muslims wield to demand that their products be halal is also increasing. Non-American Muslims can either view this as a threat to our ability to trade with Islamic economies, or see it as an opportunity to improve our relationships with other faiths and other countries. While I clearly will not stop eating pork or drinking alcohol, I see no problem if there are US companies or communities that want to become halal. However, I question whether or not it is halal for a company to become halal purely for advantageous trading. Is that being respectful, business saavy, or deceptive about one’s intentions?





Thursday, August 22, 2013

3,676 meters above sea level

Last week I hiked to the highest peak on Java, Mahameru Peak. It was hands down one of the best things I've done in my entire time here in Indonesia. Scratch that, maybe one of the best trips I've been on in my life. Seriously. It is really, really hard to express how amazing this experience was. Making new Indonesians friends was also a key part of why this trip was so awesome. Brian (a fellow PCV) and I met these new friends through a friend of a friend on Facebook, and joined up with their group. 18 strangers together climbing the highest mountain on Java lead to an unforgettable experience. My heart is still so full of joy when I think about this!

Check out my pictures here! All the captions tell the story.





Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Where ya at on that “Relentless Pursuit?”

When I started this blog, I decided on the title “Relentless Pursuit of Tikkun Olam.” My goal for that title was to actively remind myself that one of my motivations for being here (besides you know, helping people) was to find out if living and serving abroad was my calling.

As you may recall, I answered that question about, oh, one year ago. Nope, no thanks! As I admitted before, it has a lot to do with looking so darn different from everyone. Big, “fat,” white.

The picture says it all...this is a full grown, middle aged woman. Note: not all are THIS short. 

Confession: while American friends know that I am guilty of - perhaps too often- seeking to be the center of attention among friends, I do not always love to be the center of attention here. It brings unwanted attention to my looks (talk about having body insecurities, sheesh, Indonesia! Anybody see my awesome rant about being called fat on Facebook the other day??). I get frustrated that my grammar is crazy and people have no idea what I am trying to say. Attention is taken away from the people who deserve it (like, hello, the BRIDE is over there!)

Anyways, so I’ve answered the question about living in a place where I look too different from others. I want to come back to the US where I “blend in.” (Yes, I am acutely aware of the white privilege of a mid-west American embedded in that statement.)

What about my career? Whoa, that’s already a scary word. Not job, but career! For the first year of teaching here in Indonesia, I loved being a teacher (despite not loving teaching English per se). I was reminded of how much I love working with high school students. Some of you may know that after student teacher and the stress that that experience brought (Hallelujah for Allie and Kelsea standing by me in that harried time!), I wondered if being a “traditional” classroom teacher was for me. I entertained the idea of becoming support staff (a program like AVID, or helping students catch up to peers, or helping with college prep, etc). I don’t feel drawn to teaching the “smartest” students or rich students. (I’m not denying that I was one of those privileged students). Social justice is about giving the same awesome education privileged students get to everyone. Either way, I was thinking in some capacity I’d be in education, teaching in a public high school. Indonesia affirmed for me that I love teaching.

Teaching in the US 
Teaching in Indonesia...
...this uniform deserves two photos!
   

Fast forward to the weeklong Hillsong Conference where I experienced a mini personal revival. You have to understand that I love talking to people about faith. But even more than that, I love singing. Worship songs. I’m finally gonna admit it… my hobby is singing worship songs with a group of people. The secret is out.

Anyways, because I love talking and singing, imagine my delight at suddenly being able to do both in a language I understand with Westerners like me. It was overload. I signed up for the conference knowing that one year into my PC service I was gonna need a little revival. It’s been a spiritually rewarding year in Indonesia, but I knew that I needed to do some worshipping and learning in a language I (usually) fully understand!

Kari Jobe leading worship


Judah Smith preaching. He is hilarious! Free podcasts on itunes.
Needless to say, I was big-screen TV-ing all over the place, Samantha and Forrest!! There may have even been some touch-downing during the best worship songs!!

So the Hillsong Conference just allowed me time to get in my own head and really reflect on what was happening in my relentless pursuit. Should I still be in Indonesia? (That should be the topic of another blog post) Should I be a teacher?

I attended many break-out sessions on social justice, and more and more the work that I saw people doing with refugees and persecuted people, the more I started to wonder where I fit into that picture.

It’s hard to put this into words, but I’ll try to explain. I am more or less jealous of Danielle and Sarah who get to go out and educate people about health and literally save people’s lives. They get to see the fruits of their labor right away. I know that I’m not called to be a doctor or nurse because I tried to watch a body dissection from “Body World” in the teachers’ room about a month ago (true story) and I was freaked out. But it is so appealing to directly serve people and then immediately see the positive results. Teaching is it’s own form of social justice, I won’t argue otherwise. But the call to meet the basic needs of a person is weighing more and more on my heart. Jesus said to feed the hungry, cloth the naked (if you are Brook Davis, the neked), care for the sick. I don’t really feel that I am fulfilling that calling by being a teacher.

Thus began my I’m-almost-quarter-of-a-century-old life crisis (it’s also my half birthday today, 24 ½ years old, sheesh): “When I get home, what do I do with myself if I am not a teacher?” Has teaching become my plan B? The people who get licensed as a “back up” plan drive me nuts. That’s not investment in education, that’s investment in one’s own capitalist endeavors on a journey to discover how to best be economically successful. (Huh, now that I read that again, that’s clearly the perspective of a very privilege person. Again, I’m not denying that I am). I certainly did not get licensed just “in case” I couldn’t find something better. I got licensed because at the time it was what I truly desired to do.

But seriously, do I want to be a teacher when I get home? I don’t know. I would love it, for sure, but would I feel that I was doing what I was called to do? I don’t know.

I began to brainstorm the possibilities. I want to help people that do not have the privileges that I do. Little by little, I am more aware of social justice, so I know that I need to get to the root of a problem rather than put a band-aid on it. So I wouldn’t want to be delivering food to hungry people with "Feed My Starving Children," I’d want to be working on how we can help the people who receive that food grow healthier crops by themselves in their own towns. But I also don’t want to be so far removed from the people I’m serving that I work at an NGO in St. Paul, MN and never meet anyone benefitting from the work I do. Call it selfish, I call it realistic. Jesus saw the people he helped. It makes loving others and giving to others a more human experience.

So I started thinking. Well, I can work with refugees in MN. We have many different populations. What would I do? I’m not totally sure. Help find housing? Help teach English (Lord, not teaching English again!) Help asylum seekers with the long process of becoming citizens (probably not in MN).

Which raises the question, “Do I want to live in MN?” Well, I know that I want to live in a big city and I know that I can’t live without snow. I also know that I love water and mountains. That doesn’t really put me in MN, but if I do decide to teach, my license is in MN. And my best friends from Carleton are all moving back into that area, too. What are the positives/negatives of moving somewhere simply to be where your good friends are?

Man, do I miss this!
The long and short of it is this. These are some of the ideas I am mulling over (Caution: month-old thoughts can seem crazy and/or far-fetched, but we’ll see…)

1.     Work with an NGO/non-profit that works with refugees in MN.
2.     Work with an NGO/non-profit that works in some capacity with underserved populations somewhere on the East/West coast of the US…because big cities on the coasts tend to have large immigrant populations.
3.     Work in California with Indonesian immigrants (that’s where Wikipedia says the highest population of Indonesian immigrants is, anyways). After all, I speak Indonesian.
4.     Live in Australia (I believe Sam’s words were, “[Calm down, crazy.] No one is moving to Australia.”) and work with Indonesian immigrants in Australia. Again, I speak Indonesian. And Australia is awesome.
5.     Live in Australia and work with Indonesian teachers to funnel their scholarship-winning Indonesian students to Australia. (That doesn’t really get to the root of the following social justice problem: “Why do Indonesian students have to go out of country to get the very best education?” But at least it trains Indonesians who can go back to Indonesia and work on that…)
6.     Be a host mom to lots of Indonesian students studying abroad (be it the US or Australia).
7.     Start an NGO in the US some day.
8.     Adopt a child. Literally, not like Compassion International. But maybe do that, too. Preferably with an Indonesian friend’s child whom I already know and love.


9.     Do a lot more political lobbying/protesting in my state.
10. Become a local representative? If anyone made me believe that this was a real possibility, it was my student teaching teacher supervisor, Ethan. I perceived him to have a passion for local government. He also seemed to truly believe that he could influence political community leaders and had a social responsibility to do so. My perception of him, not his words. Anyways, encouraging others to feel empowered is always a great thing, so thank you for teaching me that, Ethan. I didn’t really care about local government before working with Ethan, but now I think about it a lot more. It’s pretty true, isn’t it? A lot of the laws that really, truly affect our everyday lives are local or state laws.
11. Make volunteering a much more routine part of my week. I’d ideally like to volunteer at one or two places a week, but that depends on how busy my work schedule is.
12. Become a member of the UN. Or work for an NGO that works for the UN. That idea came from the UN Millennium DevelopmentGoals (MDG). The MDGs were put back on my radar at the Hillsong Conference. Everyone really should know about them, so check out the website, even if you just browse for 5 minutes. Essentially, in 1990, the UN countries got together and said, “It’s almost the freakin’ 21st century. We gotta get it together and help ensure that every country is succeeding. So let’s set some goals that we all agree to work on for the next 25 years.” Those 25 years are up in 2015. In less than 1,000 days. And guess what? It’s working. Granted the goal is to halve poverty in a variety of areas. That means that if we started with 1 billion people in 1990 who didn’t have access to a toilet and we reach the MDG by 2015, 500 million people still have no toilet.


There you have it. 16.5 months into this crazy 27 month endeavor and my pursuit is still in process…








Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Down Under the Doona

Translation: I was in Australia, using a comforter on my bed because it was freezing cold, in the 50s!!



It is hard to put into words how “normal” it felt to be in Sydney. This is my first time back in the official “Western World” since arriving in Indonesia in April 2012. Yes, I went to Singapore for Christmas in December 2012, but something about Singapore was still not “The West” like I expected.


Honestly speaking, it could have been the fact that Singapore still doesn’t have that many white people. I am aware of the racialized ideology behind my unconscious-made-conscious idea that “The West” = white people. It’s a gross non-truth but it is still planted in my mind, despite the fact that I am righteously angry when Indonesians are shocked that not 100% of the American population is white (a fact I try to slip into conversation as often as I can!) As clarified by my friend Lauren, the US is about 72% white (2010 Census), though that includes everyone who identifies as Hispanic, so take that stat and reduce it, maybe by almost 10%?? (Check out the Census Bureau website, though, to accurately calculate for yourself. I find the way the stats are written confounding at times!) 

So maybe in my mind there has to be a certain percentage of white people for a country to be “The West?” Again, a very non-ideal way of thinking, but this is my blog and I aim to be honest, even if that means exposing my deep-seeded white privilege ideas. Sigh.

I’m working on unlearning white privilege. That’s the best I can say at this point.

Anyhow, why did it feel normal to be here?

  •  A “normal” airport where I knew what to expect I’d see. Tons of gates, working Wifi, cafes, duty free shops…
  • A super efficient train station
  • White people. Tall people. Fat people (though not as many as the US). Thank you, Australia, for reaffirming for me that I am a normal-sized, beautiful young woman!
  • Attending a dinner party at a friend of a friend’s house felt so comfortable. I’m missing those dinner parties, Inara, Kelsea, Allie, Wookie, Katya!
  • Fast wireless internet
  • I wander around and I am not afraid or bothered to be lost
  •  Hiking in the Blue Mountains and being absolutely alone. Absolutely alone. I can think of one time when I felt that way in Indonesia. I went biking around my community and went out into the middle of a sugarcane field to get away from everyone. But that lasted literally only 6 minutes before some man came trudging through the fields to check on them. You are never alone in Jombang, East Java. Never.
Hiking in the Blue Mountains


Yet the Peace Corps was truthful when they said that I will be changed upon returning home. Australia wasn’t even “going home” yet (though admittedly it feels like it could have been!), but I still felt myself being aware of weird (yet normal) things and feeling a little strange in situations that, pre-Peace Corps, would have not been strange at all.

·      A desire to bend down with my hand out when passing in between two people who are in conversation.
·      Unconsciously not using toilet paper in the bathroom
·      Desiring a sprayer thing in the bathroom
·      Paying for stuff with my right hand, lest an Australian not be scandalized by me using my “dirty left hand.”  (Turns out, that habit left after just a few days.)
·      Feeling sorta empty when shaking someone’s hand to meet them and NOT then touching my hand to my chest. That handshake just felt, cold and incomplete.
·      PDA on the train was not cute. It was uncomfortably too intimate in a public setting.
·      Immediate gut-reaction fear of a group of school children in a museum. Oh God, they are gonna want a photo, or they will stare at me and giggle. But in Australia, I took a picture of them instead of vice versa!
·      Noticing that all Australian businesses, bars, tourist places, train stations, museums, everywhere have the same lock on their bathroom doors. I guess I noticed this because I usually am freaked out to touch Indonesian bathroom door locks??
·      Wearing my scarf around my nose (again, because I was freezing!) made me think of the handy masks Indonesians wear on the bus for germs. Darn it, why isn’t that a normal practice back home? It’s actually quite smart!
·      Taking a nap in the grass in Olympic Park. Now, for starters, in the US I was an avid, non-public sleeping person. I’d rather walk all the way back to Hunt House than try to take a nap in the Libe at Carleton, even if I only ha 30 minutes. I don’t “do” public sleeping. But since Indonesia, I’m just sleeping all over the place! I headed out to a grassy patch one day during the Hillsong Conference, and imagine my joy upon seeing people sleeping everywhere! There aren’t really public grassy parks where I live in East Java, so I almost threw myself to the ground and kissed the grass, but I composed myself. Instead, I sat down, got adjusted, and proceeded to nap with all the other nappers. What a concept!


Some most interesting things I learned in Australia?
·      Australians and Americans did/are doing the same things to Aboriginals and Native Americans. Genocide, relocation, assimilation laws, and now, court cases for land rights. Fortunately, I have been impressed by how often I read about and saw traces of Aboriginal culture and political/social issues when I was here. Unfortunately, how much of that was linked to cultural appropriation for tourism? Aka selling tourist objects. While this at the very least raises awareness about the need to preserve and respect the cultures, it does not encourage language learning, respecting religion, recognizing culture.

Black on White: Aboriginals on White Australians. NSW Library Exhibit
·      Just because they speak English doesn’t mean I can understand a darn thing they are saying. I found myself giving up after asking people to repeat themselves 2 or 3 times. Between the slang and the accent (but mostly the unclear sorta mumbly accent), I could not understand what someone was saying to me!
·      Many people called me darling, dear, hon. It was great! As one American pointed out, that may be rather creepy in the US. But here, it gave me a sense of belonging.
·      You don’t die Couch Surfing. It’s out! Mom, Grandma, I stayed at the house of a stranger that I found on the Internet. I stayed for three days with a Carleton friend’s wife’s friend, then for a week with a Carleton friend’s cousin, but with the last three days unaccounted for, I turned to Mary Wilcox’s Couch Surfing. I picked a 25-year old, very normal-looking girl (aka not an up-close, super tan and hot-stuff girl in a bar) to stay with, and it was great! She was very nice, well-travelled, and down to earth. She took me to a bar where there was crab racing. Awesome. Verdict? Couch Surfers don’t necessarily murder you. But maybe the guy who emailed me to tell me I could stay with him, calling me “sweat cheeks” (yup, he typoed. Sweat cheeks, how flattering) would have. Thus, I did not take up his offer.
Maya the Couch Surfer doing a ballon race! 

Perhaps the number one thing about Australia that made me feel like “Wow” was when I was in the National Museum the first afternoon I arrived. I was looking at the rocks and minerals, which I feel obliged to do at least a little because of Tyler Mackey and Nick Holschuh, and I had a sudden wave of emotion. Not because of the rocks, I assure you of that. But because I felt so normal. I was at a museum. Reading in English. People were not staring at me. I just felt right. Finally comfortable again.


Here’s to hoping the next year in Indonesia can teach me to be comfortable and truly, truly “kerasan” (to feel at home).

Thursday, June 13, 2013

That’s a wrap!

I never imagined that my first year teaching would be completed in East Java, Indonesia.

Yet here I am, exactly two years after graduating from Carleton and I have just done it!

Naughty boy Hakim and I at Parangtritis Beach in Jogjakarta. We were on a school "study tour."

Gotta remind everyone of this beast!

Storyboard cards with some Sarah Prather flavor! This is about the Emperor's New Clothes.


 Some unexpected things about my first year teaching?

-       Teaching English
-       Co-teaching with an Indonesian teacher
-       Teaching in an Islamic high school
-       Having students that are failing the class and they don’t care. And the Indonesian teacher doesn’t care. And thus I have to let it go and not care. They will magically pass regardless. That’s my school.
-       My female students sit on one side of the class and my male students on the other.
-       My students wear uniforms.
-       Sometimes we end the class by praying.
-       2 female students dropped out to get married.
-       Speaking more Indonesian than English in my class.
-       Realizing that my handle on English grammar is rather non-existent. Why do we say bluer and not more blue? Crazier and not more crazy? Google it! (key word to Google: positive, comparative, and superlative)
-       Only teaching each group of students two times a week…if school is not cancelled.
-       Teaching only 64% of the scheduled classes semester two (I kept track), because of meetings, sporting events, testing, planting trees, field trip to Jogjakarta (a large majority of which was spent on a bus), elections, holidays, visiting families who had suffered the death of a family member, and other random cancellations.
-       Hardly ever, ever, ever giving homework because my co-teachers aren’t really interested in setting a precedent for the students to be held accountable for doing it.
-       Having cheating be a norm during my tests. Again, lack of co-teacher care leaves me shrugging and repeating the mantra, “only two years here, only two years here.”

Snakes and Ladders to learn verb tenses

Idul Adha, sacrificing animals at school together...

10th graders learning the ropes for some day when they go on the hajj
 
Some great things about this year?
-       My students want and try to get to know me. They are interested in me because I am so different. This is only gonna last these two years, I tell myself, so make it count!
-       I have gotten to see a lot of theories about how to teach well in action and work well.
-       I have learned that I have a knack for reading the students and knowing when they don’t get it. Thus, I directly change what we are doing so as to engage more students and make things less confusing. This is a skill I unfortunately do not see frequently enough from my co-teachers.
-       I am a workaholic. This could be both good and bad, I guess, but I think it shows dedication. I am always ready to lesson plan (unless I’m using the internet, darn it, just give me a minute!) and ready to discuss how to improve the classroom. While again, my co-teachers appear not to have as much time, I guess that’s what happens when you have a family and other responsibilities at school. At the very least, it gives me a moment to breathe and meet with students and show them that someone really, really cares about them!
-       Students think some of my ideas are crazy. This means I am shocking them, which is indicative of my spirit animal, the cockroach. Amiiiiiiin! (That’s “Amen” in Arabic/Indonesian)

Ninik!

The weekly flag ceremony






Some areas of improvement for next year?
-       Try to get to class on time
-       Try to hold students accountable for absence, lateness, doing homework, cheating (aka change the entire school culture) Good luck, me.
-       Try to speak way more English in class and encourage my co-teachers to do so, too.
-       Try to be more organized and have things ready to teach earlier.
-       Try to be more compassionate and patient.


IPS II


IPS I

IPA


 Some things I am excited for when I teach in the US?

-       Students doing their homework and not cheating (nearly as much)
-       Class not being cancelled
-       Loudspeakers and microphones that are clear and work well
-       Meeting with my students every day instead of two times a week
-       Students getting real grades that reflect their real abilities (though that raises the issue of how do I holistically grade so as to really, truly reflect their abilities?) At the very least, it’s better than the ten random grades that are randomly slapped into the grade book by my co-teachers.
-       Helping students reach their full potential, something I find a big challenge here with all the slacker boys and shy girls.
-       Being able to give motivational speeches where the students understand what the heck I’m saying.
-       Three months of summer break.
-       Understanding the schooling system. Why things work the way they do and who is accountable for what.
-       Speaking of accountability, wouldn’t it be nice if all countries had both teacher and student accountability? Guess what? This country doesn’t have that. What do I mean by accountability?
o   Teacher accountability: accurate grading, always coming to class, coming to class on time, being able to easily explain why someone got the grade they did, having prepared and engaging lesson plans!
o   Student accountability: doing the homework, not cheating on tests, coming to class, at least trying to engage in the lesson, trying to focus, cooperating with a teacher who is busting her butt to try to help you d@mmit! 

Receiving an award and salim-ing



So, final reflections?

…Teaching is great, I love it!

Teaching English? Eh, not really diggin’ it. Can’t wait to get my hands on that social studies back home!

Teaching rather innocent, village-dwelling Muslim kids? (I don’t mean that to be demeaning, but factual). Fabulous. Though it makes for an annoying time when I pick a girl and boy randomly to come to the front and everyone loudly “woo!”s as though they’ve never stood next to a boy/girl. Whoever taught Indonesians to say “So sweet!” should be punished because it’s as annoying as heck. But truly, most of these students have a sweetness to them that raunchy-film-watching, drug-smoking American teens don’t have. 


Here’s to another, more successful year… and may I have the stamina to be an American teacher in the US after these two years of such relaxed teaching!!