Indonesian Diary Entry
Feb. 25, 2002.
This probably will be the last entry from Indonesia.
I just reread the first couple of entries in this diary. It is seven months later and I still wonder about many of the same things I encountered during the first week. I know a lot more about Indonesia, but of course each answer brings on ten new questions. I believe I finally understand the answer to my question about why urban Indonesian people keep chickens. (It is actually answers, as there are a few reasons, but this is an interesting enough question to let others seek the answer for themselves. I will mention one reason – can’t help it. The chickens provide role models for people learning how to cross streets in this country. Even at a green light, with the light, crossing the street is NEVER done casually.) My friendships here have multiplied from the few I developed in week one, but I haven’t erased those early friendships. It is all too easy to get sappy about leaving so I’ll start by saying I’ll miss Indonesia and my friends here.
One of the very important events of the visit occurred last weekend. My friend and office assistant Emi got married. It was my first and only Indonesian wedding. This is worth mentioning, as Indonesian weddings can be very large affairs, and people are invited who may not know either bride or groom. In fact, I almost went to a wedding yesterday, and wound up not going because it threatened to interfere with a badminton game. (When Trudy and I got married, I had the good sense to change the time of my squash game by an hour so that I would be on time for the ceremony as well as the game.) I didn’t feel bad about missing the wedding, as I knew absolutely no one associated with it. I would have tagged along with friends.
Emi is about 24 years old. I asked once and have forgotten. She and her husband have known each other since they were young. He helped her with homework, she probably taught him about showing his emotions, they grew up together and attended university together, and now they start a family together. I have spent much more time with Emi than anyone else here, so the wedding was an important event for me. This also could get sappy, so I’ll head that off by saying that it is pure joy to see someone you like and respect marry someone she (or he) loves.
The wedding was quite unlike anything I had experienced. And by all accounts it was a normal Javanese wedding, so it was the experience that was new rather than being an exotic version of the traditional. First, there were many more people than I expected to be there. Rather than the fifty or so that I expected, there were hundreds. I didn’t know when to arrive and fortunately I went with my friend Pak Bambang, who was clear as to the right time. He also managed to predict the end point with an accuracy of five minutes. First the groom arrived. He was stunning. Then the bride appeared from the other end of a very long room. She was beautiful and all aglitter. The civil/religious wedding had taken place earlier during the day so this was the traditional Javanese wedding. I must say that I was far more interested in the goings-on than most of the others in attendance. Of course they had experienced such an event many times before. So I gawked while others ate. That is totally acceptable (i.e. the eating). In fact, as the wedding got under way so did the meal. Plates were delivered to guests as they sat, and we were expected to eat as the wedding party did the traditional things. Because of the large number of people, and the set-up of the room, I was unable to see very much up close. There was a videotaping of the ceremony, and consequently a live feed to monitors, so I followed things on the monitors. This could be surreal, and I guess at times it was, but it was also handy for me. A surprise was that no one brought a camera. Or rather, no one other than me brought one. So I had to choose between personal embarrassment and no pictures. I chose personal embarrassment. I don’t know how good the photos will turn out, but at least I have a record of the evening.
The nature of the ceremony is that it is experienced at a remove. I thought it would be an emotional event, but it was not. It was satisfying as an artistic experience. Perhaps there is so much emotion in other kinds of events here that this is just one that is kept out of the emotional sphere. So, the extra tissue will just have to find other use.
Last week I gave another few guest lectures – this time at a university in West Sumatra (Universitas Andalas in Padang). It was quite nice, and the city was particularly nice. (Padang, Banjarmasin, and Solo are all about the same size – between 550,000 and 600,000). Most Indonesian cities are functional. This city was more than that, with a few streets wide enough to accommodate trees, and even separate lanes for horse drawn carriages. They tend to use such carriages there more than the ubiquitous bejaks. (The major street nearest to my house here actually has such carriage lanes as well. It is a particularly nice street in Solo.) Because of the wider streets there is less noise, a little less congestion, and an air of civility that I haven’t seen in other places. The lectures went reasonably well. I gave one to about 30 faculty members (who in fact go by the title of lecturer or dosent) and another to a large group of undergrads – about 200 or so. The organization of the trip was not great and in fact I was scheduled to give one other lecture, which mercifully did not come to pass. My host decided that three in two days was a bit much, and that confirmed what I had been hinting to him all along. It was a little surprising that the lecture to the undergrads went well, just because there were so many of them. But they seemed to like the topic, they laughed at my dumb jokes (one can only get by with really dumb jokes when one is talking in a relatively unfamiliar language) and they asked some good questions. The session for the dosents also went well, and they were actually a bit feisty.
One thing is worth mentioning about the dosent lecture. The subject was economics and democracy. There is no need to say any more about the subject than that, but a question was asked (one of those familiar questions that doesn’t end with a question mark but an exclamation point) about human rights. I responded politely that, “yes, I agree that human rights are fundamental and fundamentally important.” What I didn’t realized when I answered was that human rights is a buzzword for the legitimate rights of the Palestinian people, and usually is an anti-Israel comment. It only became clear after the talk, during a coffee session, and it was much to late for me to scream, “no, that’s not what I meant.” There is not much that is universally shared among Indonesians, but a dislike of Israel is fairly high on the list. But it also should be mentioned that my experience has been that the actual knowledge of Israel, Judaism, and Jews, is remarkably small. It seems strange, but on a few occasions people have asked me whether Judaism is anything more than a nationality. It is not on the official list of religions (of which there are five), it is not discussed, there are very few Jews in the country, and so it becomes treated as either an ethnicity or nationality. I don’t tire of explaining the facts of religious life, but I do get disappointed over the need to do so.
I was in Padang from Tuesday through Friday (although only Wednesday and Thursday were real visit days) and it turned out that Friday was a big holiday – Idul Adha or the holiday of the sacrifice. It is a version of the Abraham/Isaac story. In the Muslim version, Abraham attempts to sacrifice not Isaac, but Ishmael, and at the last moment Ishmael turns into a goat (or maybe a ram – I’m not sure). So the holiday involves sacrifices of goats and cows. The meat of the animals is then distributed to the poor. At least in Jakarta (which I read about) there is much more demand for meat than availability. Last year there were some disruptions (I don’t think they qualified as riots) associated with people who wanted meat and were unable to get any. This year’s stories included similar situations, but also stories about meat going to middle class people. Very Indonesian. Things for the poor wind up in the hands of the not-poor. At this point I just mumble, “but of course.” Anyway, one minor happening was that I witnessed the skinning of a goat from my hotel window. At first I was taken aback, but then I realized that it was just the same sort of thing that goes on at the A&P every day and that it was hardly anything to get worked up about. So I didn’t.
After coming back to Solo I decided that it would be appropriate to spend some of my last weekend in Yogya, which has been like a second home for me. So I went over on Sunday and had a very nice day and night there. The family I always stay with were great and we had a genuinely good time. The husband and wife are roughly the same age as my two sons, so that resonates nicely. Jamee and I did language training together when I arrived in the country, and I have written about them earlier. I played my last badminton game (and the next to last game was months ago), and left my racket there. That’s one thing I won’t need or use at home. There are a couple of other people in Yogya that I’ve been friendly with so I was able to say goodbye to them also. It’s a little funny in that many people don’t want you to say goodbye, as much as see you later. I have a feeling that is accurate.
This is the packing week. There are things I should be working on other than packing, but packing will dominate. I have also begun to think a good amount about my real home. It isn’t even necessary to use quotation marks around those words. Solo, and Blok BD No. 25 Baturan Indah Baru in particular, has been my primary residence in Indonesia, but not home. I don’t know if there are all the subtleties in the word rumah as there are in the word home. There are sure a lot of subtleties about home. I am doing things like changing my razor blade so as to have one less to carry, and making sure the tooth paste lasts the week, and setting books into piles for take vs. leave. I have thrown out the medications that were not used – such as the anti-malarial pills and the traveler’s diarrhea capsules. A couple of socks will have their final resting place in Indonesia, and perhaps a shirt or two. I would really like to leave almost everything American and return with all Indonesian stuff, but I’m not that brazen and I am much too cheap. But the return baggage will include a nice mix of things.
At one point I started making a list of things Indonesian and their U.S. counterparts or counterpoints. I carried it around with me, and added a bit here and there, but never got as far with it as I thought I would. So here are some items from it. (This allows me to throw away the actual list.)
In Indonesia (Ia), at the end of a meal you only get the check by begging for it. In the US, the food only comes by begging. Three minutes later the check is delivered.
In Ia sidewalks are for stalls of various sorts, occasionally mopeds, and infrequently for pedestrians. In the US sidewalks are for walking.
In the US, bank premiums include toasters, tools, or supplemental interest. In Ia premiums include life or accident insurance, BMW roadsters, and most prominently a trip to the Haj.
Ia offers public transportation primarily by bus. This public facility generates smoke that is absolutely lethal to bystanders, and perhaps even to the riders. The busses also are the fastest vehicles on the roads. In the US busses are more like moose.
In the US business world you eat what you kill. In Ia, all too often you have to kill while you eat, especially if you eat on the streets. (I wrote this a long time ago, but I just came back from lunch at a warung and can verify the continuing validity.)
In the US soap operas are on during the daylight hours. In Ia soaps are on, and on, and on.
In Ia wine is very expensive. A glass can easily cost two or three times the main course. In the US wine is expensive, but normally less than the price of the main course.
In the US children are relegated to their own little world, and parental involvement often focuses on transportation assistance and management. In Ia children are a visible presence and they seem to be able to do no wrong. They also seem to be well behaved and they rarely cry.
In the US religion is supposed to be anathema in politics (albeit popular in public life). In Ia religion is literally inseparable from politics.
In the US the Ten Commandments are taken semi-seriously, especially for the Unitarians who know of them as the ten recommendations. In Ia the Five Pillars of Faith are taken very seriously.
In the US traffic lines, and especially the centerline, are sacrosanct. In Ia, traffic lines, including the centerline, are mere suggestions. Apparently this is where faith comes into play.
In the US people will spend huge amounts of money on their bathrooms. In Ia people might spend a large amount of money for the house while they essentially omit the plumbing (and even the kitchen).
In the US corruption and nepotism are observed. Ia may set the standard for the phenomenon. One doesn’t even use the words – rather one uses the initials KKN.
In the US, a smile may be a sign to button the pocket containing your wallet. In Ia, smiles come a little slowly, but they come in time and they warm the heart.
It really is too easy to get sappy about leaving so I’ll end by saying I’ll miss Indonesia and my friends here. I think I’ll also miss keeping this diary. I discovered very early on that it was a good way to discuss with myself what was taking place. It has been good therapy, reasonable company at times, and an opportunity to stay in touch. So, stay in touch.