6 months of transformation

“You are always on the verge of doing the hardest thing of your life.”

- Julie, a close PC friend (later, I learned this was actually a Ben Folds quote!)

I signed up for Peace Corps desiring to be stretched. Broken. Transformed. Rebuilt. I am truly grateful for the challenges I faced in high school (social drama and academic challenges) and then the challenges Carleton presented (faith, academics, social spats, racial realizations). These hardships (albeit white, middle class problems, if I am to be honest) shaped me and grew me in ways I never imagined.

One reason I desired to work with the Peace Corps was to be transformed again. So far, my time in Indonesia has not been a disappointment. The process of acceptance to Peace Corps was a challenge in itself. Why was I doing this? To go back to Africa? Or to serve where I was called? In December 2011, I seriously doubted that I would accept a Peace Corps position if it was not in West Africa. Yet here I am in Indonesia.

Anyways, that brings me to Julie’s (Ben's) quote above. We are always on the verge of doing the hardest thing we’ve ever done. Because even if I accomplish something that was really hard in August 2012 and the next hardest thing isn’t until December 2014, I’m still on the verge of that time, albeit a 2-year long verge! While some would argue that they’d rather not be on the verge of the hardest thing they’ve ever done, they’d just like to live in peace, I’d argue that this is the life I want to live. I want to lead a life of heartbreak and growth. To live that life, one must be constantly challenged and reshaped. This is what I was made for, to constantly seek a better life for myself and those around me. I was made to be transformed through my faith. I was made to trust that the good choices I make and even the mistakes that teach me are watched over by God, who is revealing to me more and more of who I was made to be.

Another volunteer said that he is ready to be broken during his service here. While we can currently only romanticize what this brokenness will be like (severe cultural isolation, experiencing racial profiling for the first time, a loss of faith, depression), 21 months from now when I return home I hope I’ll be able to concretely explain how I’m different. How I’ve been broken and rebuilt by my Maker, as Abby says!

Here are some of the ways I see changes in myself already, 6 months into my service:

RICE

My first legit sandwich in 5 months...SO GOOD! Also, this picture was taken to show my host mom, who doesn't know what a sandwich is. 

While I ate rice in the US maybe once or twice a week (max), I eat a lot of rice here...and rarely the tasty sandwich above. End of story. 

VALUES LITERALLY THROWN OUT THE WINDOW

(I literally throw my plastic bottles out the kitchen window into the garbage!)

The first and only recycling I have seen in Indonesia,  just last Sunday on a college campus. 

Values that seemed essential to one’s lifestyle in one setting can change based on circumstance. I have been an avid recycler since about 7^th grade. Bottles and paper are not recycled here, they are burned along with all the other trash. In the US I wouldn’t dream of throwing away even a post-it note sized piece of paper, but here, all my recyclables go into the trash.

PERCEPTIONS OF DEVELOPING COUNTRIES

My very comfortable, very Western room.

I am unlearning the idea (an idea shaped by American news channels) that developing countries are places only of poverty and discomfort. This realization began in Senegal and Togo when I stayed with well-off families. There are rich Indonesians (such as my host family) who live very much like Westerners (or a cross-breed of Indonesian-Western!) and want for not. I am processing how their role in developing their country is different from, the same as, and intertwined with my role in helping the development process as an outsider. 

DRESS

My school uniform, which grazes my toes!

Swimming in a shirt and shorts, no little suit to be seen...which is actually a relief for me, considering those extra pound around the middle thanks to the fried, sugary food of Indonesia! 

I dress very differently. In the US, a pair of shorts and a tank top were a staple in the summer. Here, I wouldn’t dream of leaving the house in a tank top, and showing my knees would result in me feeling very uncomfortable. While at first I was frustrated by this and sought opportunities to show a little leg (I like my calf muscles!), now I am much more comfortable wearing a long skirt.

Some of my skirts I do not want to wear to school because they are about an inch above my ankle and that is shorter than other women’s skirts. I feel like everyone is judging my skirt. It’s technically long enough but it’s the wrong style. Skirts should graze your toes!

NATURE

A sunset at the end of my road

I am learning to better appreciate the beauty of the world around me. 

FOOD PREP AND PRESERVATION DOES NOT SHOCK ME ANYMORE

Here's some food at a warung that was cooked in the morning and will basically sit around all day until someone buys it, complete with flies chilling on it...

Food preparation and sanitation is very different here. I remember being shocked the first time that I saw that Iyamide's family didn't keep eggs in the fridge in Senegal. There was also a moment of, "The eggs I eat at home have white shells..." before remembering oh yeah, for some weird, unknown reason we dye them white... Anyways, while my family has a fridge here, it is rarely used for food that is already cooked. It just sits out on the table, waiting to be eaten. I have totally seen my ibu (host mom) take rice that has ants in it, pick them out, and proceed to eat the rice. Fruit that has bugs eating at it for hours while it sits out on the table? Swat those flies away and let's serve that fruit to the guests that just came. NBD.


PEOPLE WORRY ABOUT VERY DIFFERENT THINGS

This is my host mom, a stay-at-home mom who does her best to contribute to her family and community.

It amazes me the worries my host mom has. What seems so trivial to me is a huge problem to her. She could not sleep one night last month because I told her I wanted to bike home alone from church at 7 PM when it is dark. She spent the whole night in a restless sleep trying to figure out how to compromise (she wanted me to be driven to and from church whenever I wanted to go, but that's a huge burden on my host brothers every week). Last week brought another sleepless night when I tried to explain to her that I have to give her half my money each month for food. She was shy to accept it and spent all night trying to figure out how she could still cook for me without taking my money.

To worry about these things seems so ridiculous to me, but I have grown to respect her for these worries. She wants me safe (the biking worry), she wants to be fair with my food money, keep me healthy and happy. She feels a personal responsibility for my comfort and health while I am in her family.

BEING CHRISTIAN IN A SEA OF ISLAM

Wearing a hijab brings much delight to those around me, but only unwanted attention and discomfort to me.

While there have been situations in which I have chosen to wear a hijab (to the mosque twice and to 3 prayer services), these times have always brought me anxiety. People love it when I wear a hijab;  it shows respect to their religion and I think they are fascinated to see a white lady wearing a headscarf. Although I am all about respecting religions and cultures, I am not comfortable wearing a jilbab. For one, I look like a frog. Next, when I wear it, people say I should wear it all the time. And then I try to explain that I am not comfortable. I am not Muslim and I do not want to wear a symbolically Muslim thing just to fit in or for the local style. If I am going to wear it it's for spiritual reasons. Since I don't have those spiritual motivations, I don't want to wear one, thank you. Finally, wearing a jilbab reminds me of the freedom I have as a Christian. I don't have to wear a headscarf,  my religion is written in my heart and manifest through my actions. I am not arguing that women only wear a headscarf as a symbol of being Muslim, they wear it for many reasons, but it is undeniable that it has become a Muslim symbol.


HUMILITY AND THE IMAGE OF JESUS

Above me is a picture of an Islamic leader, not a prophet

 I see the picture of this man every day when I walk down the stairs at my house, so when I saw it again in a friend's living room, I asked if that was a picture of a Muslim prophet (obviously one other than Muhammad, as you cannot depict him). The response was a strong, "No, of course not! None of the Muslim prophets have pictures, nor should you try to depict them." I said that was very interesting, seeing as Christians have most of the same prophets but we are allowed to depict them. I pointed out we have a lot of pictures of Jesus (albeit the most common photo, a white-skinned, blue-eyed Jesus, is inaccurate!) The woman (pictured above) responded that obviously the pictures were not really pictures of the prophets, with a tone that said that I was somewhere between wrong and very silly to think so. While I was upset at this lash out against my religion's freedom to have pictures of whomever we wanted, I had to bite my tongue.

Since then, I have had a chance to reflect on how my actions that day were lacking in humility. I immediately wrote her off as the ignorant one when she said there were not allowed to be depictions of the prophets. Yet here I was, the shallow one for wanting to be right, right, right all the time. And right about what? What Abraham and Jesus looked like? News flash, Sarah, there weren't pictures of them. We don't really know exactly what they looked like. And my religion usually depicts them inaccurately based on race and nationality when we do depict them.

Even more importantly, this taught me a big lesson. Why does it matter what Jesus looked like? Isn't it more important that I understand what he said and did? I don't need to know what he looked like, but I do need to learn his teachings to life a better life. So maybe the Muslims got it right, don't get hung up on depicting the prophet, focus on following the prophet's teachings!

 A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING OF WHY I AM CHRISTIAN

It's not every day that you see a church next to a mosque...

Conversations with my host mom and sister about Islam have left me glad I am a Christian. While I love learning about Islam to better understand it, I grow more confident that Christianity is right for me and brings me peace and freedom. Muslims belief after death God will review all the bad and good things you did and then decide where you are destined to go for eternity. My host mom and sister live with a certain degree of fear that they must be good Muslims or God will punish them. I do not live in fear of my destiny. In my understanding of Christianity, I accept that I am going to make mistakes, but that God has my back. I don't have to do anything to be saved because Jesus paid for my sins already. While at times I felt guilty of this "free pass" in light of the Muslims around me are perhaps freaking out about their salvation, I realize that my pass is not entirely free. I only definitely get it if I try to live in thanks and gratitude for what was given to me. If I try to take advantage of always being forgiven and end up doing crazy things, then I am not really trying to follow God's plan for me and therefore don't get the free pass. Does that make sense? I'm still working through this...!

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And finally, perhaps the most important thing I have come to learn after being here for 6 months is this: I have realized that living abroad for the rest of my life is not for me. I miss my culture and my lifestyle in the US. I am happy to be here and want to be here for two years, but after that, my heart lies in the US!