While smoking among men seems much more prevalent here than in American, I do not remember having seen an Indonesian woman smoke. Apparently one of the female ETAs was told something along the lines of, "don't smoke in public; people might think you are a prostitute." Maybe it's a good thing that I haven't seen women smoking.
Indonesian men tend to start smoking earlier than Americans. Pak Muslim , a teacher at my school, started smoking in elementary school. Apparently this is normal. Indeed, in addition to making the news for various tectonic events, Indonesia also has its share of smoking-toddler news sensations like Ardi Rizal (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/26/ardi-rizal-smoking-video_n_590404.html). Sad times. Now if only someone would start a rumor that all men who smoke are Johns...
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Toraja 2
A month and a half ago I went to a corpse-moving ceremony in my counterpart's village with Mary Barnes (another ETA) and her parents, who happened to be visiting that day from Makassar (side note: this is the village he currently lives in. This village is associated with his wife's Tongkonan. The pictures from the previous post are from in or near the village he is from originally, Nanggala). The old bunker style grave got too crowded, so the Tongkonan (technically the group of people associated with the Tongkonan associated with the grave) built a new one next to the first. They moved three of the coffins from the old grave into the new one. As might be expected, a corpse moving is sort of like a funeral, just more low-key.
Soon after we got there we saw a buffalo slaughter. While almost every buffalo I have seen killed has needed only one slash of the parang (machete) to the neck, this slaughter did not go so well. It took a lot of tries to get a good cut. This is the first whack. I would be up all night if I uploaded every attempt I caught on camera.
The buffalo was not too happy. We weren't too happy about it either. A lot of the Indonesians were laughing. This probably makes you uncomfortable. This made Mary's parents uncomfortable (I think). Indonesians tend to laugh when they are uncomfortable. Sometimes communication across cultural norms can backfire. Oops.
The four bules:
After the slaughter, Mary and her parents left. I ended up nongkronging (hanging out) with my counterpart and some other Indonesians under a rice barn (the usual place to hang out during ceremonies like this). You'll see a picture of the underside of a rice barn in a second. From the side and front they look like small Tongkonans without the buffalo horns.
After nongkronging for a bit, a few of the Indonesians started moving the coffins.
The inside of the old grave:
During the move, at least one of the corpses had its clothes taken off (the clothes probably had been on top of the bodies rather than actually on the limbs). I did not notice whether new clothes were put on, though I do know that there is some (yearly?) ceremony where the dead are undressed and redressed in new clothes. Here is the pile of clothes tossed behind the two graves:
At least one of the coffins had an inspection panel, allowing me to look in and see the dead person's face. And the cigarette in its mouth. Note: I have not mentioned gender since I'm not quite sure. I remember thinking the person was a woman, but I don't remember how I concluded this. Very few Indonesian women smoke, however, so the mere presence of a cigarette suggests it was probably a man. For more on smoking in Indonesia, see one of my perpetually forthcoming posts.
The new grave from the outside. The clump of people is carrying one of the coffins inside:
The inside of the new grave:
While the coffins were being moved, the butchers were preparing lunch:
My counterpart (Marthen) with some of the meat:
Fun for all ages:
After the meat was ready, it was time to nongkrong again. Here's me under a rice barn, eating rice (the photo interrupted the nongkronging; photo credit to Marthen):
After lunch we prayed for a while. Incidentally, my counterpart led most of the service. Apparently he has some sort of leadership position at the church. I'm not quite sure how he has time for everything. On top of teaching more hours than any other teacher at school and teaching Saturdays at an SMK (technical high school) in Makale, he finds time to be a church leader.
All in all, a good day, and a good experience.
Soon after we got there we saw a buffalo slaughter. While almost every buffalo I have seen killed has needed only one slash of the parang (machete) to the neck, this slaughter did not go so well. It took a lot of tries to get a good cut. This is the first whack. I would be up all night if I uploaded every attempt I caught on camera.
The buffalo was not too happy. We weren't too happy about it either. A lot of the Indonesians were laughing. This probably makes you uncomfortable. This made Mary's parents uncomfortable (I think). Indonesians tend to laugh when they are uncomfortable. Sometimes communication across cultural norms can backfire. Oops.
The four bules:
After the slaughter, Mary and her parents left. I ended up nongkronging (hanging out) with my counterpart and some other Indonesians under a rice barn (the usual place to hang out during ceremonies like this). You'll see a picture of the underside of a rice barn in a second. From the side and front they look like small Tongkonans without the buffalo horns.
After nongkronging for a bit, a few of the Indonesians started moving the coffins.
The inside of the old grave:
During the move, at least one of the corpses had its clothes taken off (the clothes probably had been on top of the bodies rather than actually on the limbs). I did not notice whether new clothes were put on, though I do know that there is some (yearly?) ceremony where the dead are undressed and redressed in new clothes. Here is the pile of clothes tossed behind the two graves:
At least one of the coffins had an inspection panel, allowing me to look in and see the dead person's face. And the cigarette in its mouth. Note: I have not mentioned gender since I'm not quite sure. I remember thinking the person was a woman, but I don't remember how I concluded this. Very few Indonesian women smoke, however, so the mere presence of a cigarette suggests it was probably a man. For more on smoking in Indonesia, see one of my perpetually forthcoming posts.
The new grave from the outside. The clump of people is carrying one of the coffins inside:
The inside of the new grave:
While the coffins were being moved, the butchers were preparing lunch:
My counterpart (Marthen) with some of the meat:
Fun for all ages:
After the meat was ready, it was time to nongkrong again. Here's me under a rice barn, eating rice (the photo interrupted the nongkronging; photo credit to Marthen):
After lunch we prayed for a while. Incidentally, my counterpart led most of the service. Apparently he has some sort of leadership position at the church. I'm not quite sure how he has time for everything. On top of teaching more hours than any other teacher at school and teaching Saturdays at an SMK (technical high school) in Makale, he finds time to be a church leader.
All in all, a good day, and a good experience.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Toraja: a primer
Toraja, the part of Indonesia where I live, is known for its culture. Indeed, rumor has it that Toraja’s culture makes it the second-ranked tourism destination in Indonesia after Bali (according to the government), though a recent visit to Bali confirms that tourist traffic in Bali dwarfs tourist traffic in Toraja by several orders of magnitude. I should note, by the way, I’m not sure how the government came to this conclusion, if indeed they every did come to the conclusion. I’m pretty sure Borobudur (or the Borobudur/Yogyakarta/Solo area) is also more heavily trafficked as well. Why, then, have I not yet mentioned Torajan culture?
I have stayed away from mentioning it for so long because it has taken me so long to appreciate (and because I am really bad at posting with any regularity or frequency. I was actually ready to write this at least two months ago). Now that I am ready, here are my thoughts as well as a decent introduction to Torajan culture and ceremonies.
Torajan society is structured by family lineage (through both parents). At some point (still not clear to me when, but I think any time is ok), members of a family gather together money to establish a Tongkonan, which I will loosely translate as a “family house.” Here is a Tongkonan. Thank you, google image search, for the picture. Somehow I don’t have a good picture of just a Tongkonan.
When a Torajan gets married, he (she) joins his (her) spouse’s Tongkonans, as do all of the couple’s children. Torajans cannot join too many Tongkonans since they have a responsibility to each of their Tongkonanans. Consequently, people only count a few generations back.
Clearly not everyone from a Tongkonan can live in it. Indeed, nowadays, no one lives in most Tongkonanas. The buildings are actually rather small and uncomfortable on the inside. Instead of anyone living in the Tongkonan, one family may live near it in a modern, more comfortable house, while other Tongkonan members live elsewhere. Tongkonan members who live elsewhere still belong to the house, and will return to participate in ritual events related to it.
If no one lives in a Tongkonan, why build it, and why call it a house? In the good old days, many people did live in Tongkonans. Even when people do not live in it, the Tongkonan still plays a vital role for its members. Tongkonans may host meetings for the extended family with which they are associated if that family needs to discuss something important. A Tongkonan is a physical representation of a family that allows the family to show its wealth (through buffalo horns displayed on a post at the front of the Tongkonan. Buffalo are very expensive ($4000 for a normal buffalo, $8000 for a white buffalo, $20000 for a buffalo with really big horns (think 1 meter each)), so the more buffalo you sacrifice at funerals and other ceremonies, the richer you must be. I was at one funeral where over 100 were killed (30 the day I was there) and have heard of a funeral with 120+ buffalo). Tongkonan also play a role in Torajan funeral ceremonies.
When a Torajan dies, he may be buried in the burial grounds (cliffs, caves, bunkers) of any of his Tongkonan. His family chooses the Tongkonan, though presumably he has some input. In the months (years) before the final burial but after death, he will be stored in that Tongkonan. After his burial, his body will be taken care of (redressed, moved if necessary) by that Tongkonan.
So how about those burials? Torajans tend to be buried with clothing, some possessions, and the souls of buffalo. As might be expected, the rich burials led to grave plundering. Consequently, for many generations Torajans have been buried in cliffs and caves and, more recently, in concrete bunkers. So says Lonely Planet, anyway, though I haven’t heard anything about grave robbers. Grave robbers or not, though, at this point I think people get buried in these locations more out of tradition than anything else. Indeed, at this point I think most aspects relating to burial practices in Toraja are traditions that remain from religious or other practices from before when Toraja became majority Christian. Torajans bury their dead in cliffs, bunkers and caves since that’s just where you bury your dead.
Anyway, funeral ceremonies last anywhere from a few days to more than a week. Throughout the length of the funeral ceremony, family and friends visit, offer condolences, watch and bet on buffalo fighting, bring assorted animals for sacrifice, watch pig, deer, horse, cow and buffalo sacrifice, eat lots of food, and pray (most Torajans are Lutheran). It’s sort of like a shiva, except with animal fighting and sacrifice and unkosher meat. I’m pretty sure shiva is not a principal social event for most Jews though. Note: If you are really confused, you are probably a Hindu, or at the very least, you are not Jewish. Given the length of the funeral ceremonies, most of the time is spent around talking.
Moving the coffin a few days before the burial:
Here's the first Buffalo I saw killed:
Look! It was grass fed:
Sanitary conditions:
Buffalo fighting:
At first, I was put off from funeral ceremonies because of the animal sacrifice. Perhaps this was because a Torajan I had just met (randomly, in a restaurant) showed me pictures and video of a buffalo sacrifice from a funeral he had recently been to and expected me to be excited. I have to come to appreciate these ceremonies as a time to get together to socialize. Sure, I’d rather socialize in other contexts that don’t involve animal slaughter, but I’ll take what I can get.
I have stayed away from mentioning it for so long because it has taken me so long to appreciate (and because I am really bad at posting with any regularity or frequency. I was actually ready to write this at least two months ago). Now that I am ready, here are my thoughts as well as a decent introduction to Torajan culture and ceremonies.
Torajan society is structured by family lineage (through both parents). At some point (still not clear to me when, but I think any time is ok), members of a family gather together money to establish a Tongkonan, which I will loosely translate as a “family house.” Here is a Tongkonan. Thank you, google image search, for the picture. Somehow I don’t have a good picture of just a Tongkonan.
When a Torajan gets married, he (she) joins his (her) spouse’s Tongkonans, as do all of the couple’s children. Torajans cannot join too many Tongkonans since they have a responsibility to each of their Tongkonanans. Consequently, people only count a few generations back.
Clearly not everyone from a Tongkonan can live in it. Indeed, nowadays, no one lives in most Tongkonanas. The buildings are actually rather small and uncomfortable on the inside. Instead of anyone living in the Tongkonan, one family may live near it in a modern, more comfortable house, while other Tongkonan members live elsewhere. Tongkonan members who live elsewhere still belong to the house, and will return to participate in ritual events related to it.
If no one lives in a Tongkonan, why build it, and why call it a house? In the good old days, many people did live in Tongkonans. Even when people do not live in it, the Tongkonan still plays a vital role for its members. Tongkonans may host meetings for the extended family with which they are associated if that family needs to discuss something important. A Tongkonan is a physical representation of a family that allows the family to show its wealth (through buffalo horns displayed on a post at the front of the Tongkonan. Buffalo are very expensive ($4000 for a normal buffalo, $8000 for a white buffalo, $20000 for a buffalo with really big horns (think 1 meter each)), so the more buffalo you sacrifice at funerals and other ceremonies, the richer you must be. I was at one funeral where over 100 were killed (30 the day I was there) and have heard of a funeral with 120+ buffalo). Tongkonan also play a role in Torajan funeral ceremonies.
When a Torajan dies, he may be buried in the burial grounds (cliffs, caves, bunkers) of any of his Tongkonan. His family chooses the Tongkonan, though presumably he has some input. In the months (years) before the final burial but after death, he will be stored in that Tongkonan. After his burial, his body will be taken care of (redressed, moved if necessary) by that Tongkonan.
So how about those burials? Torajans tend to be buried with clothing, some possessions, and the souls of buffalo. As might be expected, the rich burials led to grave plundering. Consequently, for many generations Torajans have been buried in cliffs and caves and, more recently, in concrete bunkers. So says Lonely Planet, anyway, though I haven’t heard anything about grave robbers. Grave robbers or not, though, at this point I think people get buried in these locations more out of tradition than anything else. Indeed, at this point I think most aspects relating to burial practices in Toraja are traditions that remain from religious or other practices from before when Toraja became majority Christian. Torajans bury their dead in cliffs, bunkers and caves since that’s just where you bury your dead.
Anyway, funeral ceremonies last anywhere from a few days to more than a week. Throughout the length of the funeral ceremony, family and friends visit, offer condolences, watch and bet on buffalo fighting, bring assorted animals for sacrifice, watch pig, deer, horse, cow and buffalo sacrifice, eat lots of food, and pray (most Torajans are Lutheran). It’s sort of like a shiva, except with animal fighting and sacrifice and unkosher meat. I’m pretty sure shiva is not a principal social event for most Jews though. Note: If you are really confused, you are probably a Hindu, or at the very least, you are not Jewish. Given the length of the funeral ceremonies, most of the time is spent around talking.
Moving the coffin a few days before the burial:
Here's the first Buffalo I saw killed:
Look! It was grass fed:
Sanitary conditions:
Buffalo fighting:
At first, I was put off from funeral ceremonies because of the animal sacrifice. Perhaps this was because a Torajan I had just met (randomly, in a restaurant) showed me pictures and video of a buffalo sacrifice from a funeral he had recently been to and expected me to be excited. I have to come to appreciate these ceremonies as a time to get together to socialize. Sure, I’d rather socialize in other contexts that don’t involve animal slaughter, but I’ll take what I can get.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Pilkada=Pilihan Kepala Daerah=choosing of the regional head=elections
Toraja Utara (North Toraja) is having elections for bupati (similar to county executive) this coming Thursday. Since Toraja Utara just split from Tana Toraja in the past few years, this will be the first election for bupati. The lead-up to the election is quite exciting. There are 7 candidates, and each roams around the region with a huge entourage of cars (usually SUVs or trucks that can handle rocky roads) or motorcycles, with everyone wearing campaign shirts, and with bigger vehicles blasting or playing music to attract attention. Sometimes a campaign stops on the side of the road in town so that the candidate can stump for a while. There are signs for the candidates everywhere. My students, even, are quite excited for the election, and each has a preferred candidate. My principal, incidentally, prefers candidate 1 (each candidate is numbered), since that candidate is his brother in law.
Anyway, while the elections are quite exciting, I will try to skip town next weekend. Apparently last election (in the joined Toraja, containing Toraja Utara and Tana Toraja), 3 people died in the post election riots. Also, apparently Makale (the capital of the joined Toraja and now of Tana Toraja) is much more tame than Toraja Utara. I don't want to die, so I will either skip town or stay in the school compound. Being barricaded in a compound for several days sounds rather boring though, so I would like to skip town.
Because of the tensions the election raise, the police are out in force. I even saw
one of these last weekend.
From http://www.primeportal.net/apc/shchang/barracuda_4x4_apc_walk_1.htm.
Anyway, while the elections are quite exciting, I will try to skip town next weekend. Apparently last election (in the joined Toraja, containing Toraja Utara and Tana Toraja), 3 people died in the post election riots. Also, apparently Makale (the capital of the joined Toraja and now of Tana Toraja) is much more tame than Toraja Utara. I don't want to die, so I will either skip town or stay in the school compound. Being barricaded in a compound for several days sounds rather boring though, so I would like to skip town.
Because of the tensions the election raise, the police are out in force. I even saw
one of these last weekend.
From http://www.primeportal.net/apc/shchang/barracuda_4x4_apc_walk_1.htm.
Living conditions
A lot of you have been asking about living conditions. I'll see what I can do to describe them.
I actually have quite the nice house (duplex?) Unfortunately, I still keep forgetting that I have a camera and thus I do not have pictures of it. I have more room than I know what to do with, which, I guess, is nice. Compared to many Indonesians, I think, I have a pretty good living situation. I have a western toilet (a godsend) and a shower (it has useless water pressure, but I have been using the squirter that you are supposed to use like a bidet as a shower head since it has much better pressure); most Indonesians use a cross between a bucket and a ladle. After visiting 3 other ETAs though, I think I actually did not do so well in the housing sweepstakes. All of us have similarly sized houses, but the others all have washing machines (though not driers), stoves (I eat at my school, which is actually quite nice), and, well, a lot of furniture. On the one hand, its a little awkward that we get such nice accommodations. Why should I, a first year teaching assistant, have a sit toilet, when the students and the office just have squat toilets? On the other hand, sit toilets are quite nice.
I live at my school, so I try to spend a lot of time outside of it. This means I either go mountain biking (I'm trying to get to know the region. Unfortunately, biking on rock or dirt roads does not work during the rain, which falls every afternoon) or I go to Rantepao. I live about 2-3 kilometers from Rantepao, the capital city of Toraja Utara. Rantepao, at about 45,000 people, is Toraja Utara's biggest (and only) city, if you even consider it a city. There is not much to do on the one main road or the few side streets, but you can buy oatmeal. Since it is hard for me to wake up and shower in time for 6:30 breakfast (and I could do with one meal a day without rice), I have been making myself oatmeal for breakfast. Rantepao is oriented toward tourists (Toraja is known for its funeral ceremonies graves), though there aren't many right now since we are in the middle of the rainy season. Unfortunately though, it's not a very exciting city.
Since there's not much to do in Rantepao and it rains too much to go biking much of the time, I spend a lot of time at school. The students are really into basketball, so I play that with them from time to time. Unfortunately, I have not played in a long time. It is taking me a while to remember how to shoot. Luckily, I am a good 6 inches taller than the tallest other person at my school, so I'm a master rebounder, and I don't really have to try to get open--I just put my hands up. I have also recently introduced frisbee (disc for the purists), but have not introduced ultimate yet. The students seem to like frisbee though.
I actually have quite the nice house (duplex?) Unfortunately, I still keep forgetting that I have a camera and thus I do not have pictures of it. I have more room than I know what to do with, which, I guess, is nice. Compared to many Indonesians, I think, I have a pretty good living situation. I have a western toilet (a godsend) and a shower (it has useless water pressure, but I have been using the squirter that you are supposed to use like a bidet as a shower head since it has much better pressure); most Indonesians use a cross between a bucket and a ladle. After visiting 3 other ETAs though, I think I actually did not do so well in the housing sweepstakes. All of us have similarly sized houses, but the others all have washing machines (though not driers), stoves (I eat at my school, which is actually quite nice), and, well, a lot of furniture. On the one hand, its a little awkward that we get such nice accommodations. Why should I, a first year teaching assistant, have a sit toilet, when the students and the office just have squat toilets? On the other hand, sit toilets are quite nice.
I live at my school, so I try to spend a lot of time outside of it. This means I either go mountain biking (I'm trying to get to know the region. Unfortunately, biking on rock or dirt roads does not work during the rain, which falls every afternoon) or I go to Rantepao. I live about 2-3 kilometers from Rantepao, the capital city of Toraja Utara. Rantepao, at about 45,000 people, is Toraja Utara's biggest (and only) city, if you even consider it a city. There is not much to do on the one main road or the few side streets, but you can buy oatmeal. Since it is hard for me to wake up and shower in time for 6:30 breakfast (and I could do with one meal a day without rice), I have been making myself oatmeal for breakfast. Rantepao is oriented toward tourists (Toraja is known for its funeral ceremonies graves), though there aren't many right now since we are in the middle of the rainy season. Unfortunately though, it's not a very exciting city.
Since there's not much to do in Rantepao and it rains too much to go biking much of the time, I spend a lot of time at school. The students are really into basketball, so I play that with them from time to time. Unfortunately, I have not played in a long time. It is taking me a while to remember how to shoot. Luckily, I am a good 6 inches taller than the tallest other person at my school, so I'm a master rebounder, and I don't really have to try to get open--I just put my hands up. I have also recently introduced frisbee (disc for the purists), but have not introduced ultimate yet. The students seem to like frisbee though.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tsunami
Legend has it there was a tsunami off the coast of Sumatra. Also, Mount Merapi in Central Java erupted. This is quite bad for people living in Sumatra and Java. I am quite a ways away on Sulawesi, so I am fine. To those who asked, thanks for asking about my aliveness.
Monday, October 25, 2010
SMA Barana', part 1
I teach at SMA Kristen Barana', near Rantepao, the biggest town in Toraja, a regency of South Sulawesi. SMAs are college preparatory senior high schools and Kristen means Christian, so the school's name just means Barana' Christian college preparatory senior high school. SMA Barana' (we usually drop the Kristen) is an RSBI, which means it is on the path to becoming an international school (this title, despite the name, is actually bestowed by the Indonesian government, not some international body). It is considered to be the best high school in all of Toraja, though apparently it is not the best by much (we got 5th at a recent competition open only to Torajan schools). The school has about 270 students (I forget the exact total), split among 10th, 11th and 12 grades (SMAs and SMKs--technical high schools--start in 10th grade).
SMA Barana' (I think all Indonesian schools, though I may be wrong) does not have moving classes. So, instead of each teacher having a room and the students moving between these rooms, each taking separate classes from his or her friends, the students sit in the same class all day, with the same classmates. Their are 10 classes at SMA Barana': 4 10th grade classes, 2 11th grade science track classes, 1 11th grade social science track class, 2 12th grade science track classes, and 1 12th grade social science track class.
On the plus side, having fixed classrooms makes it much easier to schedule classes than having moving classes. With fixed classrooms, the school only has to schedule the 30 or so teachers moving around. With movable classes, the school would have to schedule 270 students moving around. The school also probably needs fewer class spaces, which makes fixed classes less expensive.
On the down side, students don’t get to choose their classes (This is not quite true. At the beginning of 11th grade the students choose to follow the social sciences track or the natural sciences track. The track they choose influences the classes they take. However, they still do not choose individual classes. They choose a single collection of classes only).
Fixed classes also effectively prevents tracking (not quite: natural sciences is generally considered to be a higher track than social sciences, and I think students may need to test into the natural sciences track, though I may be wrong. At public schools, anyway, I’m pretty sure students do need to test into the natural sciences track (and test into SMA)). Tracking can be dangerous, but its also a great opportunity for students to go ahead of their peers (in math for example). With fixed classes, everyone in the same class takes the same level of class.
Fixed classes also means that students don’t choose their classes (beyond choosing their track), so students don’t necessarily take subjects that interest them. That being said, high school students in America don’t have that much choice either. I guess I’m really comparing SMA here to college in America, which isn’t fair at all.
Typically, Indonesian schools conceive of languages very differently than we do in America. In America, I would just take Spanish or French (or both!). At SMA Barana’ (and elsewhere in Indonesia), English gets split into multiple parts. So, 10th grade has one English reading and writing class per week (1.5hrs), one English speaking and listening class per week that follows the curriculum (1.5 hrs), and one English speaking and listening class per week where we can do anything we want. The 11th grade has one reading and writing class, one speaking and listening class, and one English for TOEFL class. The 12th grade has one reading and writing, one speaking and listening, one English for TOEFL and one English for Torajan culture.
Separating English into separate classes creates two main problems:
First, the same teacher does not necessarily teach all of a particular class’s English class periods. One teacher might teach reading and writing, while another teaches speaking and listening (Luckily, no class has more than two different English teachers). Even though the curricula for speaking and listening and reading and writing go hand in hand, the two classes might not follow them at the same pace. Even if the two classes did manage to stay at the same pace, the teachers would find it very hard to instill a sense of continuity (connecting vocabulary and grammar points and helping students remember new things from class to class). This coordination is particularly hard since, even though there are only three English teachers (plus me), there is no regular departmental meeting. I think I will try to change this.
Second, the teachers’ hands are tied in terms of creative lesson planning. Not only do I need to try to teach speaking and listening, but also I need to do so while avoiding reading and writing. These skills are connected, so separating them can be a pain.
On a completely unrelated note, one of my students is named Axlrose. This is awesome (also, he's a good kid, and I don’t want to take away from that, but that's not really the point here). Unfortunately, I can't quite imagine him singing, "Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty." On the plus side, he's much more likely to say that than any of the other options in xkcd #805 (http://xkcd.com/805/). For those unfamiliar with webcomics, when you have finished reading the comic, place your cursor over it to read the hovertext). If you are older than 40 or have been living under, but not listening to, (a) rock for the past 23 years, "Wikipedia to the rescue!: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guns_N%27_Roses and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Axl_Rose".
SMA Barana' (I think all Indonesian schools, though I may be wrong) does not have moving classes. So, instead of each teacher having a room and the students moving between these rooms, each taking separate classes from his or her friends, the students sit in the same class all day, with the same classmates. Their are 10 classes at SMA Barana': 4 10th grade classes, 2 11th grade science track classes, 1 11th grade social science track class, 2 12th grade science track classes, and 1 12th grade social science track class.
On the plus side, having fixed classrooms makes it much easier to schedule classes than having moving classes. With fixed classrooms, the school only has to schedule the 30 or so teachers moving around. With movable classes, the school would have to schedule 270 students moving around. The school also probably needs fewer class spaces, which makes fixed classes less expensive.
On the down side, students don’t get to choose their classes (This is not quite true. At the beginning of 11th grade the students choose to follow the social sciences track or the natural sciences track. The track they choose influences the classes they take. However, they still do not choose individual classes. They choose a single collection of classes only).
Fixed classes also effectively prevents tracking (not quite: natural sciences is generally considered to be a higher track than social sciences, and I think students may need to test into the natural sciences track, though I may be wrong. At public schools, anyway, I’m pretty sure students do need to test into the natural sciences track (and test into SMA)). Tracking can be dangerous, but its also a great opportunity for students to go ahead of their peers (in math for example). With fixed classes, everyone in the same class takes the same level of class.
Fixed classes also means that students don’t choose their classes (beyond choosing their track), so students don’t necessarily take subjects that interest them. That being said, high school students in America don’t have that much choice either. I guess I’m really comparing SMA here to college in America, which isn’t fair at all.
Typically, Indonesian schools conceive of languages very differently than we do in America. In America, I would just take Spanish or French (or both!). At SMA Barana’ (and elsewhere in Indonesia), English gets split into multiple parts. So, 10th grade has one English reading and writing class per week (1.5hrs), one English speaking and listening class per week that follows the curriculum (1.5 hrs), and one English speaking and listening class per week where we can do anything we want. The 11th grade has one reading and writing class, one speaking and listening class, and one English for TOEFL class. The 12th grade has one reading and writing, one speaking and listening, one English for TOEFL and one English for Torajan culture.
Separating English into separate classes creates two main problems:
First, the same teacher does not necessarily teach all of a particular class’s English class periods. One teacher might teach reading and writing, while another teaches speaking and listening (Luckily, no class has more than two different English teachers). Even though the curricula for speaking and listening and reading and writing go hand in hand, the two classes might not follow them at the same pace. Even if the two classes did manage to stay at the same pace, the teachers would find it very hard to instill a sense of continuity (connecting vocabulary and grammar points and helping students remember new things from class to class). This coordination is particularly hard since, even though there are only three English teachers (plus me), there is no regular departmental meeting. I think I will try to change this.
Second, the teachers’ hands are tied in terms of creative lesson planning. Not only do I need to try to teach speaking and listening, but also I need to do so while avoiding reading and writing. These skills are connected, so separating them can be a pain.
On a completely unrelated note, one of my students is named Axlrose. This is awesome (also, he's a good kid, and I don’t want to take away from that, but that's not really the point here). Unfortunately, I can't quite imagine him singing, "Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty." On the plus side, he's much more likely to say that than any of the other options in xkcd #805 (http://xkcd.com/805/). For those unfamiliar with webcomics, when you have finished reading the comic, place your cursor over it to read the hovertext). If you are older than 40 or have been living under, but not listening to, (a) rock for the past 23 years, "Wikipedia to the rescue!: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guns_N%27_Roses and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Axl_Rose".
From Dog to Dinner
Many years ago, Agus, a Torajan girl, was preparing to celebrate her birthday. She wanted to slaughter an animal to feed her friends, but she couldn’t choose the right one. As she walked to the animal market, she considered her options.
“Perhaps I will slaughter a buffalo,” she thought. “But buffalo are too big. My friends will not be able to eat all of it, and it will be too expensive for me. I cannot afford to spend tens of millions of rupiah (thousands of dollars) for my birthday.”
“Maybe I can serve chicken,” she thought next. “But chicken are too small. I would have to slaughter many chickens to feed all of my friends. By the time I prepare all of those chickens, it will already be tomorrow. I need another option.”
Just as Agus was lamenting her difficult situation, she ran into her friend Budi. He was so preoccupied with his own problems that he did not even ask her “Mau ke mana = where do you want to go”. “I am so worried,” said Budi. “Dog mating season has begun, and I am worried my dog will have free sex (note: free sex=sex before marriage). How can I protect my dog’s morality? Also, I cannot afford for my dog to get pregnant. What would I do with all its children?”
The two friends stood, moping in silence. All seemed lost until, in a moment of clarity, genius struck Alice. “I have a great idea,” she announced. “We should kill your dog. Then it cannot get pregnant. Also, then I can serve it for my birthday. It is just the right size.”
“Brilliant,” Budi responded, sipping from the Guiness that magically appeared in his hand (Budi was Christian). “Your plan will enable us to kill two dogs with one whack!”
The two friends strode to Budi’s house, excited to have solved both of their problems. As they approached his house, however, clouds began to cover the sky, as they are wont to do in the rainy season during the afternoon. When they arrived and saw Budi’s dog, their enthusiasm wore off. They realized that killing a dog would not be easy; if you cut the dog’s neck, it might bight you. How to kill the dog without getting injured?
Luckily, Agus, the “alpha dog” of this story, had another solution. “Let’s put the dog in a bag. The dog will not be able to bite us since it will be trapped in the bag.”
Budi, not too easily won over, realized the flaw. “If we cut the dog’s neck while it is in the bag, then we will have to cut a hole in the bag. Then, the dog can escape and bite us.”
Coming to the rescue again, Agus had her third clever solution of the day. “We don’t need to kill the dog by cutting its neck. Instead, let’s take the dog and whack it against a wall repeatedly. We won’t even have to worry about the blood getting everywhere, since the bag will keep that contained too!”
As the sun set, the two friends immersed themselves in the beauty of the moment by slamming Budi’s dog against the wall until the only body parts left moving in the room were the sides of their mouths, which floated upward until the radiance of Agus and Budi’s smiles replaced the radiation of the setting sun.
Later, as they ate the birthday dog together, Alice reflected, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Epilogue: I decided to become a vegetarian.
__________________________________________________________________________
To be fair:
For the sake of telling a good story and leading up to my new vegitarianism, I was not at all fair. I was also factually inaccurate at times. Here are some notes on fairness and accuracy:
(1) Most Indonesians do not eat dog. Muslims would consider dogs unclean, so presumably most or all Muslims do not eat dog. Some Torajans do eat dog, but only occasionally (for birthdays). I believe some other non-muslims throughout the archipelago also eat dogs (either on special occasions or (maybe?) on normal days, depending on the region).
(2) With the exception of those who get joy from animal cruelty (these people exist everywhere), I don't think Torajans or other Indonesians actually enjoy killing dogs. I just thought that made for a better story and emphasized my shift to caring more about treatment of animals.
(3) The students at my school (and Torajans generally, I think) do tend to serve each other dog on birthdays.
(4) Some Torajans do sometimes kill dogs by putting them in bags and slamming them against the wall or the ground.
(5) The person from whom I learned about this does not eat dog. When she was in high school, her dog bit someone else. The dog had to die so that it would not bite others. The victim's father chose to kill the dog by beating it (not using the bag technique) since he was understandably not very happy with the dog. Not using a bag was a poor plan, since the dog, head bleeding, ran away and hid under my friend's bed.
(6) Torajans (maybe other Indonesians?) do greet each other with "Mau ke mana?"
(7) Indonesians do refer to sex before marriage as "free sex"
(8) I have heard of someone killing a dog to prevent it from mating.
(9) The story, is of course, fiction, with small glimmers of truth as mentioned in previous notes.
“Perhaps I will slaughter a buffalo,” she thought. “But buffalo are too big. My friends will not be able to eat all of it, and it will be too expensive for me. I cannot afford to spend tens of millions of rupiah (thousands of dollars) for my birthday.”
“Maybe I can serve chicken,” she thought next. “But chicken are too small. I would have to slaughter many chickens to feed all of my friends. By the time I prepare all of those chickens, it will already be tomorrow. I need another option.”
Just as Agus was lamenting her difficult situation, she ran into her friend Budi. He was so preoccupied with his own problems that he did not even ask her “Mau ke mana = where do you want to go”. “I am so worried,” said Budi. “Dog mating season has begun, and I am worried my dog will have free sex (note: free sex=sex before marriage). How can I protect my dog’s morality? Also, I cannot afford for my dog to get pregnant. What would I do with all its children?”
The two friends stood, moping in silence. All seemed lost until, in a moment of clarity, genius struck Alice. “I have a great idea,” she announced. “We should kill your dog. Then it cannot get pregnant. Also, then I can serve it for my birthday. It is just the right size.”
“Brilliant,” Budi responded, sipping from the Guiness that magically appeared in his hand (Budi was Christian). “Your plan will enable us to kill two dogs with one whack!”
The two friends strode to Budi’s house, excited to have solved both of their problems. As they approached his house, however, clouds began to cover the sky, as they are wont to do in the rainy season during the afternoon. When they arrived and saw Budi’s dog, their enthusiasm wore off. They realized that killing a dog would not be easy; if you cut the dog’s neck, it might bight you. How to kill the dog without getting injured?
Luckily, Agus, the “alpha dog” of this story, had another solution. “Let’s put the dog in a bag. The dog will not be able to bite us since it will be trapped in the bag.”
Budi, not too easily won over, realized the flaw. “If we cut the dog’s neck while it is in the bag, then we will have to cut a hole in the bag. Then, the dog can escape and bite us.”
Coming to the rescue again, Agus had her third clever solution of the day. “We don’t need to kill the dog by cutting its neck. Instead, let’s take the dog and whack it against a wall repeatedly. We won’t even have to worry about the blood getting everywhere, since the bag will keep that contained too!”
As the sun set, the two friends immersed themselves in the beauty of the moment by slamming Budi’s dog against the wall until the only body parts left moving in the room were the sides of their mouths, which floated upward until the radiance of Agus and Budi’s smiles replaced the radiation of the setting sun.
Later, as they ate the birthday dog together, Alice reflected, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Epilogue: I decided to become a vegetarian.
__________________________________________________________________________
To be fair:
For the sake of telling a good story and leading up to my new vegitarianism, I was not at all fair. I was also factually inaccurate at times. Here are some notes on fairness and accuracy:
(1) Most Indonesians do not eat dog. Muslims would consider dogs unclean, so presumably most or all Muslims do not eat dog. Some Torajans do eat dog, but only occasionally (for birthdays). I believe some other non-muslims throughout the archipelago also eat dogs (either on special occasions or (maybe?) on normal days, depending on the region).
(2) With the exception of those who get joy from animal cruelty (these people exist everywhere), I don't think Torajans or other Indonesians actually enjoy killing dogs. I just thought that made for a better story and emphasized my shift to caring more about treatment of animals.
(3) The students at my school (and Torajans generally, I think) do tend to serve each other dog on birthdays.
(4) Some Torajans do sometimes kill dogs by putting them in bags and slamming them against the wall or the ground.
(5) The person from whom I learned about this does not eat dog. When she was in high school, her dog bit someone else. The dog had to die so that it would not bite others. The victim's father chose to kill the dog by beating it (not using the bag technique) since he was understandably not very happy with the dog. Not using a bag was a poor plan, since the dog, head bleeding, ran away and hid under my friend's bed.
(6) Torajans (maybe other Indonesians?) do greet each other with "Mau ke mana?"
(7) Indonesians do refer to sex before marriage as "free sex"
(8) I have heard of someone killing a dog to prevent it from mating.
(9) The story, is of course, fiction, with small glimmers of truth as mentioned in previous notes.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Poco-poco
Poco-poco (pronounced pocho-pocho, since c is always pronounced ch) is Indonesia's line dancing craze. Mechanically, it is similar to the cha-cha slide, the electric slide, or Cotton-Eye Joe. In something resembling a grid, participants first step right twice, then left twice, then back twice, then turn to the left (usually, occasionally right) through an involved sequence of steps. After four repetitions, facing the original direction, the participants use a new involved sequence of steps to perform the turn. Participants go through several different terminal step sequences throughout the course of the dance. Usually one person leads the dance, so everyone faces that one person during the first iteration of every involved sequence, then it is assumed that they will remember the sequence until they receive a new sequence from the leader.
While poco-poco is mechanically very similar to American line dances, it appears in a very different context. Every Saturday morning, all 270 or so students in my school, plus a few teachers and the principal (this week at least--this was the first week I noticed), dance poco-poco on the school's basketball court. Having normally seen line dances at Bar and Bat Mitzvot, I was rather amused to see my whole school doing one. I was wrong to be amused though. I should have saved that amusement for the fact that the military does poco-poco too, in uniform.
The military also dances to dangdut, another form of music, in uniform. To dance to dangdut, you put both thumbs up and move your arms in a motion similar to how they move for running (I would show a video if I could find one quickly enough, but those of you who don't use snail internet can probably find it quickly).
Check out these poco-poco video for a visual.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0CJ5KCxmgY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7cpaqln5PE&feature=related
While poco-poco is mechanically very similar to American line dances, it appears in a very different context. Every Saturday morning, all 270 or so students in my school, plus a few teachers and the principal (this week at least--this was the first week I noticed), dance poco-poco on the school's basketball court. Having normally seen line dances at Bar and Bat Mitzvot, I was rather amused to see my whole school doing one. I was wrong to be amused though. I should have saved that amusement for the fact that the military does poco-poco too, in uniform.
The military also dances to dangdut, another form of music, in uniform. To dance to dangdut, you put both thumbs up and move your arms in a motion similar to how they move for running (I would show a video if I could find one quickly enough, but those of you who don't use snail internet can probably find it quickly).
Check out these poco-poco video for a visual.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0CJ5KCxmgY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7cpaqln5PE&feature=related
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Unrelated literary notes
None of these notes has anything to do with Indonesia other than the fact that I read all while in Indonesia.
(1) Mario Vargas Llosa won the Nobel Prize for literature! It was about time. If you have not read anything by him, now is a good time to start. I liked Death in the Andes (Lituma en los Andes) and Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter (La Tia Julia y el Escribidor), but pretty much anything by him is good.
(2) I read The Corrections and Freedom (both by Jonathan Franzen) in the past few weeks. If you have not read anything by him yet, you're missing out. I think its fair to say that both are attempts at writing the Great American Novel. Whether or not he succeeds, I leave up to you, but I thought he did a pretty good job. I think I may read Freedom again, since there was so much I missed (I'm sure I actually missed more in The Corrections, but I did not like that book as much).
(3) Andrea Hirata's Laskar Pelangi (Rainbow Troops) is all the rage in Indonesia today. It is actually the first book in a quartet, but it is the only one of the four I have read so far. The movie version came out in 2008. While not as great or as ambitious as Vargas Llosa or Franzen's books, it's still damn good. As the title suggests, the book deals with education, mineral exploitation, government resource distribution, the will to succeed and love. Ok, so maybe the title makes very little sense (even after reading it, I don't like the title that much, though I do understand it). Anyway, it's worth a read if you can find it.
Also, I think I am done with posting about Bandung. I had a good time, but it should not remain the focus of the blog for long. I will start speaking about Toraja (my region) in the next post.
(1) Mario Vargas Llosa won the Nobel Prize for literature! It was about time. If you have not read anything by him, now is a good time to start. I liked Death in the Andes (Lituma en los Andes) and Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter (La Tia Julia y el Escribidor), but pretty much anything by him is good.
(2) I read The Corrections and Freedom (both by Jonathan Franzen) in the past few weeks. If you have not read anything by him yet, you're missing out. I think its fair to say that both are attempts at writing the Great American Novel. Whether or not he succeeds, I leave up to you, but I thought he did a pretty good job. I think I may read Freedom again, since there was so much I missed (I'm sure I actually missed more in The Corrections, but I did not like that book as much).
(3) Andrea Hirata's Laskar Pelangi (Rainbow Troops) is all the rage in Indonesia today. It is actually the first book in a quartet, but it is the only one of the four I have read so far. The movie version came out in 2008. While not as great or as ambitious as Vargas Llosa or Franzen's books, it's still damn good. As the title suggests, the book deals with education, mineral exploitation, government resource distribution, the will to succeed and love. Ok, so maybe the title makes very little sense (even after reading it, I don't like the title that much, though I do understand it). Anyway, it's worth a read if you can find it.
Also, I think I am done with posting about Bandung. I had a good time, but it should not remain the focus of the blog for long. I will start speaking about Toraja (my region) in the next post.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Bandung I
After a week in Jakarta, I headed over to Bandung with my 43 closest friends (plus AMINEF administrators, so really more like 50). Apparently the hotel in Jakarta was not actually considered very nice. The Sheraton in Bandung was much nicer. Nice enough, in fact, that rumor has it that SBY (Indonesia’s president, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono) stays there when in Bandung. This may be just a rumor though.
While in Bandung one of the ETAs decided to host a “hick wedding.” Each of the ETAs had a role and a characteristic (I was the secretly gay cousin of the bride), and we celebrated a fake wedding in our hick best. It was somewhat offensive, but fun nonetheless.
The hotel also hosted a real wedding while we were there. Apparently this couple really loved America, since they planned to dance down the aisle to Chris Brown’s “Forever.” For those of you who have been living under a rock for the past year or are older than 24, this video might be instructive. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0
Note the number of times it has been viewed. Unfortunately, the wedding got rained out. Luckily for me (and for you), they rehearsed this many times. I made sure to get a video. The dancing wasn’t great, but it was very jarring seeing the obsession with America via Chris Brown. Once I have my computer situation ironed out, I will post it.
<>
While in Bandung, we (the ETAs) had three hours of Bahasa Indonesia and three hours of pedagogy classes each weekday. Apparently Bahasa Indonesia is pretty easy, since we came out of those three weeks knowing a lot. Also, it helps that my class’s teacher, Ibu Lily, put a lot of faith in us and made us do unimaginably hard things that greatly increased our confidence when we succeeded. So, for example, I had to present for ten minutes on public toilets in America in Bahasa Indonesia (other students presented about other public services such as education and transportation, but I chose last. I liked my topic quite a lot though). It pushed my limits, but not to the breaking point. Unfortunately, my progress has slowed significantly, but I have been reading Harry Potter in Bahasa Indonesia to expand my vocabulary and have been talking with teachers and locals to work on my fluency. We’ll see how that works out. I think I may also start a Bahasa Indonesia blog or email list so that I expand my active vocabulary. Let me know if you want to receive this, if it ever happens (Emmy, Liz, other ETAs, I’m looking at you).
Addenda to that paragraph:
-Anyone interested in toilets and other sanitation issues should check out Zac Mason’s blog, http://zacstravaganza.blogspot.com/. Zac spent the last two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Mali but continues to blog about development and anything fecal in nature.
-Bahasa Indonesia literally means “language Indonesia.” English is “Bahasa Inggris.”
-Ibu literally means “mother.” However, Indonesians often use it somewhat like Mrs. or Ms. Generally, one addresses other adults with such an honorific, but using the first name. So, Lily becomes Ibu Lily (or Bu Lily), and Marthen (pronounced Martin, since the t and h don’t combine as they do in English) becomes Pak Marthen. This politeness has the unfortunate consequence that everyone in town greets me by saying, “Hello Mister.” “ Halo pak” or “Selamat pagi pak” sounds normal (selamat pagi=good morning), but “hello mister” just sounds funny. I tend not to mind it though, since its much better than the other two alternatives, bule (boo-lay; gringo, though literally it means albino), and Belanda (the Netherlands). I tend not to respond to those since I find them rather offensive, though I should probably come up with a better response.
The pedagogy classes were also quite successful, as I felt surprisingly prepared to teach. Perhaps I will speak more about these classes when I get into my own teaching experience.
While in Bandung one of the ETAs decided to host a “hick wedding.” Each of the ETAs had a role and a characteristic (I was the secretly gay cousin of the bride), and we celebrated a fake wedding in our hick best. It was somewhat offensive, but fun nonetheless.
The hotel also hosted a real wedding while we were there. Apparently this couple really loved America, since they planned to dance down the aisle to Chris Brown’s “Forever.” For those of you who have been living under a rock for the past year or are older than 24, this video might be instructive. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0
Note the number of times it has been viewed. Unfortunately, the wedding got rained out. Luckily for me (and for you), they rehearsed this many times. I made sure to get a video. The dancing wasn’t great, but it was very jarring seeing the obsession with America via Chris Brown. Once I have my computer situation ironed out, I will post it.
<
While in Bandung, we (the ETAs) had three hours of Bahasa Indonesia and three hours of pedagogy classes each weekday. Apparently Bahasa Indonesia is pretty easy, since we came out of those three weeks knowing a lot. Also, it helps that my class’s teacher, Ibu Lily, put a lot of faith in us and made us do unimaginably hard things that greatly increased our confidence when we succeeded. So, for example, I had to present for ten minutes on public toilets in America in Bahasa Indonesia (other students presented about other public services such as education and transportation, but I chose last. I liked my topic quite a lot though). It pushed my limits, but not to the breaking point. Unfortunately, my progress has slowed significantly, but I have been reading Harry Potter in Bahasa Indonesia to expand my vocabulary and have been talking with teachers and locals to work on my fluency. We’ll see how that works out. I think I may also start a Bahasa Indonesia blog or email list so that I expand my active vocabulary. Let me know if you want to receive this, if it ever happens (Emmy, Liz, other ETAs, I’m looking at you).
Addenda to that paragraph:
-Anyone interested in toilets and other sanitation issues should check out Zac Mason’s blog, http://zacstravaganza.blogspot.com/. Zac spent the last two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Mali but continues to blog about development and anything fecal in nature.
-Bahasa Indonesia literally means “language Indonesia.” English is “Bahasa Inggris.”
-Ibu literally means “mother.” However, Indonesians often use it somewhat like Mrs. or Ms. Generally, one addresses other adults with such an honorific, but using the first name. So, Lily becomes Ibu Lily (or Bu Lily), and Marthen (pronounced Martin, since the t and h don’t combine as they do in English) becomes Pak Marthen. This politeness has the unfortunate consequence that everyone in town greets me by saying, “Hello Mister.” “ Halo pak” or “Selamat pagi pak” sounds normal (selamat pagi=good morning), but “hello mister” just sounds funny. I tend not to mind it though, since its much better than the other two alternatives, bule (boo-lay; gringo, though literally it means albino), and Belanda (the Netherlands). I tend not to respond to those since I find them rather offensive, though I should probably come up with a better response.
The pedagogy classes were also quite successful, as I felt surprisingly prepared to teach. Perhaps I will speak more about these classes when I get into my own teaching experience.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
So apparently I've been rather bad about posting. I will try to post periodically over the next few days so as to catch up.
We (the 44 ETAs) stayed for one week in Jakarta. We had general orientation activities, mostly from representatives from the state department and the embassy.
The highlights:
→The security adviser told us to "shred, shred, shred" everything we received during orientation, for security purposes. The other presenters tried very hard not to laugh when he said this, as they told us later.
→The state department reads my blog: apparently they can track the usage of various words and phrases (i.e., Fulbright, state department, etc.). They want to know what people are saying about them. Since I am likely to use these phrases in many of my posts, the state department will have the joy of reading many of my posts.
→Apparently there is some restriction that Fulbrighters (and other people from the state department) have to stay in hotels of a certain quality or higher. Their cutoff is pretty high. While our hotel in Jakarta (and the one in Bandung) were not the nicest hotels I have ever stayed in, they were more than we needed. To some extent, the restriction makes since. Hillary Clinton should not be seen staying in a wisma (hostel). For us, though, the hotels were more than we needed. The money could have been used better elsewhere. The law that people with the state department have to stay in hotels of a certain quality might make more sense if it were a bit more finely tuned.
→Jakarta is quite dirty. Public trash cans are rare (don’t even think about recycling), so people burn trash, toss it in the street, or toss it in the canals/sewers, only some of which are covered by sidewalks (sidewalks are also rare), which are constructed in such a way that you can see through little holes into the canals/sewers. Bandung and Rantepao are slightly better, as I have not seen open canals. While my school does have trash cans (so the grounds are not covered in waste), I think we burn all of our trash.
→ Indonesians love Karaoke. Karaoke in Indonesia is very different from Karaoke in the states, though. While in Jakarta, some ETAs (not including me) went out for karaoke. It turned out that the karaoke place was actually a brothel. Oops. Apparently this is pretty standard. If you are ever in Indonesia and want to sing, look for Karaoke Keluarga (family karaoke). Also, sing Justin Bieber. Indonesians love Justin Bieber.
→Before coming to Jakarta, I thought D.C. traffic was bad. I was wrong. D.C. has rules and stoplights. Jakarta, not so much. It is not uncommon to see a motorcycle cut completely perpendicular to traffic. Check out this video (if it loads correctly--I may have to try again later) from in front of our hotel. Note that the lanes are not marked (they are in some places, though cars do not stay within these marked lanes, this intersection has no traffic light (though luckily traffic does come in waves from the left and moves in waves on the diagonal because of one, nearby light), and there are people in the middle of the mess directing traffic for tips. From a more practical standpoint for me, there are rarely crosswalks. If you want to cross a street, you just start walking and stare the vehicles down. It was a little scary at first, but it has gotten easier, especially in the smaller cities.
We (the 44 ETAs) stayed for one week in Jakarta. We had general orientation activities, mostly from representatives from the state department and the embassy.
The highlights:
→The security adviser told us to "shred, shred, shred" everything we received during orientation, for security purposes. The other presenters tried very hard not to laugh when he said this, as they told us later.
→The state department reads my blog: apparently they can track the usage of various words and phrases (i.e., Fulbright, state department, etc.). They want to know what people are saying about them. Since I am likely to use these phrases in many of my posts, the state department will have the joy of reading many of my posts.
→Apparently there is some restriction that Fulbrighters (and other people from the state department) have to stay in hotels of a certain quality or higher. Their cutoff is pretty high. While our hotel in Jakarta (and the one in Bandung) were not the nicest hotels I have ever stayed in, they were more than we needed. To some extent, the restriction makes since. Hillary Clinton should not be seen staying in a wisma (hostel). For us, though, the hotels were more than we needed. The money could have been used better elsewhere. The law that people with the state department have to stay in hotels of a certain quality might make more sense if it were a bit more finely tuned.
→Jakarta is quite dirty. Public trash cans are rare (don’t even think about recycling), so people burn trash, toss it in the street, or toss it in the canals/sewers, only some of which are covered by sidewalks (sidewalks are also rare), which are constructed in such a way that you can see through little holes into the canals/sewers. Bandung and Rantepao are slightly better, as I have not seen open canals. While my school does have trash cans (so the grounds are not covered in waste), I think we burn all of our trash.
→ Indonesians love Karaoke. Karaoke in Indonesia is very different from Karaoke in the states, though. While in Jakarta, some ETAs (not including me) went out for karaoke. It turned out that the karaoke place was actually a brothel. Oops. Apparently this is pretty standard. If you are ever in Indonesia and want to sing, look for Karaoke Keluarga (family karaoke). Also, sing Justin Bieber. Indonesians love Justin Bieber.
→Before coming to Jakarta, I thought D.C. traffic was bad. I was wrong. D.C. has rules and stoplights. Jakarta, not so much. It is not uncommon to see a motorcycle cut completely perpendicular to traffic. Check out this video (if it loads correctly--I may have to try again later) from in front of our hotel. Note that the lanes are not marked (they are in some places, though cars do not stay within these marked lanes, this intersection has no traffic light (though luckily traffic does come in waves from the left and moves in waves on the diagonal because of one, nearby light), and there are people in the middle of the mess directing traffic for tips. From a more practical standpoint for me, there are rarely crosswalks. If you want to cross a street, you just start walking and stare the vehicles down. It was a little scary at first, but it has gotten easier, especially in the smaller cities.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Welcome
Selamat datang semua!
Welcome everyone! I have received a Fulbright to teach English to high school students in Indonesia, share American culture with Indonesians, and share my experiences with Americans. Barring unforeseen changes, I will teach at SMA Kristen Barana, a Christian college-preparatory high school in Tikala, which is in Toraja Utara, a regency of Sulawesi (formerly known as Celebes), the third biggest island in Indonesia. Google maps has not heard of Tikala, but you can at least take a look at Toraja Utara.
UPDATE: Indonesian Wikipedia notes that Tikala is on the road to Sesean, presumably from Rantepao. Both of these are on google maps, so that gives a slightly better idea of where I will be.
I leave for Indonesia in mid-late August, and will be there for nine months. I suspect this blog will lie dormant for a month or so, so make sure to sign up for email updates so that you don't have to remember to start looking at the blog a month from now.
Until then, I have a request. As I noted above, my job extends beyond teaching English. As an informal ambassador, I will do my best to share everything American with my students, hosts and friends. If you have anything you would like to send to Indonesia to help in this mission (flags, Thanksgiving and Halloween objects, political bumper stickers, etc.), let me know or mail it to me. If you need an address, email me at ezraacohn@gmail.com (incidentally, that is my new email address; save it).
Sampai nanti
Welcome everyone! I have received a Fulbright to teach English to high school students in Indonesia, share American culture with Indonesians, and share my experiences with Americans. Barring unforeseen changes, I will teach at SMA Kristen Barana, a Christian college-preparatory high school in Tikala, which is in Toraja Utara, a regency of Sulawesi (formerly known as Celebes), the third biggest island in Indonesia. Google maps has not heard of Tikala, but you can at least take a look at Toraja Utara.
UPDATE: Indonesian Wikipedia notes that Tikala is on the road to Sesean, presumably from Rantepao. Both of these are on google maps, so that gives a slightly better idea of where I will be.
I leave for Indonesia in mid-late August, and will be there for nine months. I suspect this blog will lie dormant for a month or so, so make sure to sign up for email updates so that you don't have to remember to start looking at the blog a month from now.
Until then, I have a request. As I noted above, my job extends beyond teaching English. As an informal ambassador, I will do my best to share everything American with my students, hosts and friends. If you have anything you would like to send to Indonesia to help in this mission (flags, Thanksgiving and Halloween objects, political bumper stickers, etc.), let me know or mail it to me. If you need an address, email me at ezraacohn@gmail.com (incidentally, that is my new email address; save it).
Sampai nanti
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