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:

***

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?

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?