an epic december

it is almost february, and i assure you, i am not sure how that happened. two days ago was my five month anniversary here in medan. WOW. SNAP. CRACKLE. POP. SPICY. NASI GORENG. THAT. IS. A. LONG. TIME. rewind?

december was an epic month. i had six weeks of vacation starting december 4th-january 11th. i utilized this travel time to its full potential. i started off by visiting tana toraja in sulawesi where death seems to be a larger celebration than life. i then went to yogyakarta--"the heart of java." borobudur (the largest buddhist temple in the world) was a hop, skip away so we went and saw that too. one day we caught a sunset at a beach an hour south of yogya which was incredible. jimmy, akin to a five-year old child, was playing with sticks and stones and floated away in the ocean current for a while. good thing hes twice the size of the ocean. after lots of medicinal laughs and prawn jokes, i continued on my journey to flores. i met up with seb, ashley, and aaron in bali and we were off for our "remote" adventure. in flores, the beauty was dramatic and magnificent. the people were friendly but not overbearing. i learned that in the flores dialect of indonesian, i am considered "manis" but not "cantik." i will never be "cantik." in indonesian, "cantik" means pretty and "manis" also means pretty but i am yet to figure out the different connotations. in flores however, "manis" is only reserved for women who are darker. "cantik" is only for the whiter, pure, angel-skinned women. interesting. i saw many black sand beaches, indescribable sunsets, and serpentine switchbacks. in flores, like much of indonesia, nature commanded the people to obey to its whims and ways. in indonesia it seems nature refuses to be manicured.

after my trip to flores, i spent two days in jakarta (aka sebs house where i took over) where i met up with raj (pre usa departure for his 2 weeks) and hung out with angie and kerry. kerry met me up in jakarta before our two weeks in thailand and vietnam. on the night of raj's flight, we all went out to some fancy club and the doorman made raj change because he was wearing khaki shorts and BOAT shoes. pants were necessary to enter. CONVENIENTLY, a pant-rental place was just downstairs. raj, exalted by his new style, showed up five minutes later in black adidas sweatpants splattered with white paint stains. peeking out from under his sweatpants were his tan boat shoes. now he was dressed well enough to enter the pulsing halls of club X2. oh indonesia, how i adore thee. we laughed and danced the night away to bad house music.

the next morning kerry and i departed for vietnam. as the plane was descending into HoChiMinhCity, i realized i was going to vietnam. 5 minutes later i realized i was in vietnam. I WAS IN VIETNAM. saigon (or HCMC) is a throbbing, compact city filled with enough motorbikes to pollute the entire universe. i thought traffic in medan or jakarta was bad. stoplights in saigon literally had 7 rows of motorbikes impatiently waiting to step on the accelerator. french baguettes lined the sidewalks next to stands of dried squid fluttering in the breeze. the vietnamese (generalization coming up) are vociferous when angry and are not shy to invade your personal space; they gave a hearty smack on the leg when they felt wronged. after living in a country where outbursts of emotion is hardly ever seen--even when someone is furious--vietnam was quite a shock. we visited a few sites in saigon, among them the vietnam war remnants war museum (which used to be named the us war crimes museum). after overhearing a british couple snickering about the war in afghanistan, kerry and i couldnt help feeling that there would be a similarly named museum in afghanistan one day. to say the museum was depressing would be a gross understatement. we also met up with a friend of a friend, trang, who took us out at night and introduced us to all her friends. she was one of the nicest people i have ever met. from saigon we flew to bangkok and saw many temples, floating markets, and buddhas. we spent five days in a swanky hotel (for free courtesy of kerrys moms friend) and our last night ended with a spectacular new years. we were caught in the middle of an asian times square where we were in the midst of an asian mosh pit. after we escaped the moshing folks, we found our way back to our hotel and watched the fireworks burst over bangkok from the 32nd floor. being a place where temples spotted the landscape more often than churches left me feeling more spiritual than i had felt in a while. from bangkok we headed to hanoi, the capital city of vietnam. from hanoi we tookoff to ha long bay. (i remember randomly sending wyatt an email about wanting to go there one afternoon when i was looking up interesting places in the world while procrastinating writing my thesis senior year) i couldnt believe i was actually there. jagged rock formations with lush green life jut out from the placid water. the vietnamese call the bay "descending dragon." it was cloudy and grey when we arrived there but the beauty refused to be cloaked by the clouds. it was stunning.

i arrived back in medan on january third with a renewed appreciation for indonesia. medan is starting to feel like my own; its not just some foreign city i am living in. four more months left...time is running faster than me. i should probably start sprinting...

cheers to an incredible beginning of a new year. as my penpal jonthon coined, "twenty-ten, so damn zen."

love.

life in pictures...words to follow

pak dedicating a song to me during the school's annual bazaar on nov.21st...something about my smile, haha.

students advertising their bazaar table to raise money for their extracurricular groups.

our team competing in the poco poco competition at the bazaar with the entire school watching.

me with some students at the school.

me and k in bali on october 24th.

(kerry is my best girlfriend here--she teaches in jepara (on java) and is my travel buddy for the next few weeks...i don't know what i would do without her).

john, me, cici, and rez(a) at the top of gunung sibayak, after a long hike on november 7th . it was their (ci and za) first real hike, and they were exhausted. we found a teal sulfur lake.

me. i was really excited to find the lake.

with the kids on the way up to the top.

i acquired bamboochuck fighing skills on the climb up. indo ninja style.

dont believe me? come visit.

"John, should I wear my fleece pants or jeans to go swimming in the sulfer pools?"

I apologize for being lame and not updating.

I am so busy its unreal. Well, actually its very real/apparent because I am tired and sleepy and slowly becoming fat. I am going to share some pics and then tell y'all about teaching and a local NGO I have become infatuated with.

Here are some pics from hiking in the Sumatran jungle / Lake Toba. I also have pictures from Bali but cannot currently locate that camera...will post those later.

hello.

Yogi making tea in the morning

Sumatran jungle crew in Sibolangit (village of the sky).

traditional Batak house from Samosir Island.

a really large banyan tree on Samosir, the island in Lake Toba.

the largest lake, Lake Toba, in Southeast Asia! (its the size of Singapore)

the quintessential Indonesian man (notice the cig in his left hand).

Teaching: I love it. I teach at my school, SMAN3, Tuesday through Friday and on Mondays I teach art and English at a KKSP (a local NGO that works with street children). Most of my classes at the school are around 40-50 students. That’s double a normal U.S. high school classroom. Also, my official job is “English teaching assistant.” In Indonesian, this translates as “qualified high school English teacher” because out of the 7 teachers I work with, 6 leave the classroom when I enter. Here, instead of the students changing classes after each period, the teachers change classrooms. This leads to restless students that are eager to learn anything that I have to say because I make them move around. This also leads to a very sweaty me because unlike most of the teachers, I like to get to class on time. I am also usually wearing a sweater and long pants. Did I happen to mention the trivial fact that I AM BASICALLY ON THE EQUATOR?? Each class I teach is about 45 minutes, but sometimes the teachers “forget” to come back and I end up making something up for the remainder of the time until the teacher returns. Teachers at my school (and apparently in Indonesia as the ETA meet up in Bali revealed) are notorious for being late and frequently leaving class. Most teachers also just stand at the front of the classroom and talk for 45-90 minutes. Students are basically in zombie mode by the time I get to them and cheer and clap when I enter the classroom because I don’t stand at the front and talk at them for 45 minutes. (I feel a little bit famous at school, its really strange) They are also very…uh…high school. They giggle constantly in class and there is clandestine handholding in the hallways. And most of them love to learn and readily soak up what I have to say. A power like that is both exciting and exhausting since I have to carefully craft my words all day, even when I’m not in the classroom. A few students have sent me messages after classes and have told me that they learned x, y, or z and/or are excited for the next class. Or they tell me that I made them wonder about x, y, or z. Knowing that at least one person has learned something from my constantly perspiring, confused 23-year-old self is enough fuel to keep me going for the next 6.5 months. (yes, its already been 2.5 months here!! )

At the NGO (KKSP) that I am volunteering/interning at (http://www.kksp.or.id/en/), I have decided to work with a group of 20 boys ranging from the age of 7-23. They all live in a shelter called Rumah Musik (House of Music), and they work on the street playing music for money. Most of them do not have schooling background and live, sleep, and chill at the shelter. Each person usually earns around 50,000 Rp. ($5 US) in a week.

They also smoke. Constantly. When I asked why they all smoke like chimneys, Y (age 23) told me that having an addiction is cheaper than buying his dinner every day.

Last Monday I hung out with them on my own. The first few times I met with them, Ali (their main coordinator from KKSP) was with me, so he could translate the difficult stuff. Ali is also the guy I went camping in the jungle with. He's a very chill laid back 30-year-old guy with a big heart and a passion for justice. This past Monday, Ali was still kickin it in the jungle, so I went to with Rumah Musik on my own. I was really nervous since my Indonesian is decent but shaky and I would be attempting to connect with 20 boys/men. At first it was awkward, and we just languidly stared at each other for a while. I asked myself who I thought I was and what on earth possessed me to come to Indonesia. Just as the butterflies in my stomach were starting to crawl up my throat, one of the guys picked up his guitar and started strumming. I have had a long-running love affair with the sound of an acoustic guitar and our romance continued in the dark open room of Rumah Musik. I started to hum and soon, everyone was playing either the drums or guitar and we had a drum/guitar circle going. They taught me one of their songs they wrote and I sung. I then translated it into English, and we created an English version of the song and harmonized. We did a quick English lesson, and I promised them next time we would do an art lesson. As I left, they walked me out to my motorbike and laughed as I forgot to put my kickstand up before I started the gas.

Heres part of the song:

seuma orang itu guru

alam raya sekolahtu

sejatralah bangsaku

'all the people are teachers'

'great experience is my school'

'in prosperous solidarity is my nation'

I'm surprised at how much I enjoy teaching. The high schoolers and the kids at Rumah Musik have reminded me of the simplicity of life--despite the seeming complications.

While we were camping, I was sitting staring at the mountains that surrounded us and Ali asked me why I was always smiling. I was taken aback by his question and didn't even realize this was the case. I laughed and all I could spit out was, "I'm so lucky."

During my fourth period class today, another one of my students asked me why I was always smiling. I had no idea that I have a smile glued to my face...but apparently the fact that I love it here and am learning so much shows.

This weekend I am going to the hills with some of my students. They have been excited about it for weeks, and I am looking forward to hanging out with them outside of school.

Thanks for all the love you have sent me. All the e-mails and messages really help ground me when I am having my lonely moments.

peace from the southeast.

random pics

with a bunch of students at a housewarming party afterschool

i spoke in indonesian and they in english

big, hearty belly laughs at miscommunication and lots of high school gossip

my bathroom. i have no sink, but i have clean water. bonus.

my room! [notice my motorcycle helmet on the bed] :)

the head master, his wife, me, science teacher, and ibu zulfah (my counterpart/awesome english teacher) at halal bihalal [big lunch to ask mutual forgiveness week after eid]

halal sprite.

color conscious

after two weeks of observation (october 9, 2009):

the first few days i walked around in the school, i received many double takes.

let me share a conversation i had at least fifty times in my first week at SMAN 3.

Random teacher (to Ibu Zulfah): *nodding at me* siapa? ('who is that?')

Ibu Z: Oh! that is vidhi! she is our new english teacher from america. dari america, ya.

*Random teacher cautiously steps towards me and examines me from head to toe.*

Random teacher: cantik, ya. tapi hitam. orang india. ('very pretty. but black. she is from india)

Ibu Z: No, no she is from America. She can speak fluent American English.

Random teacher: *stares suspiciously* nga. orang india! lihat! ('no. shes indian. look!')

Me: saya dari america tapi orang tua dari india. saya tinggal america. ('i am from america, but my parents are from india. i live in america')

Random teacher: Ah. Tahu BOLLYWOOD? DANCE, YA? wooo, dance! show dance! bisa bahasa indonesia, seperti 0rang indonesia, bagus! (' can you dance like a bollywood? dance! you can speak indonesian! you are like indonesian! great!)

Me: sorry, i cant dance like a bollywood star. yes, i am learning to speak indonesian. *slightly amused smile*

end scene 1.

i am not exaggerating. this very scenario happened fifty times. the first time, i laughed and was very amused. by the 49th time, i was over it. in the end, when i divulge that my parents are from india and i was, indeed, born in india, the teacher's eyes light up and they point at me as if they have figured me out. puzzle solved. boxed, packaged, and sold. they were "right" all along. i always smile and try to explain that i am of both worlds but my sharp nose and slightly slanted eyes seem to speak louder than my words. and then the bell rings and i must go to class to answer more questions for "observation."

its very frustrating to never quite fit into a place. in india, i would never be considered indian enough. my walk is too western, my dress too modern. my ideas drenched in "corrupted american ideology." in the states, i am initially identified by my cultural background. my skin and face giving me away before i am ready to share. i find myself, especially here, reevauating my identity and what components are relative in creating an identity. sure ethnicity is one part--a genetic piece of the puzzle. but i dont think i even know what race is anymore. however, i love blending in whenever i walk down the road.

regardless of the frustrations, i feel that i am fulfilling my duties in being a cultural ambassador. many of my students have asked why i am not white, and this gives me a great platform where i can start talking about cultural diversity in the u.s. and although the teachers give me a hard time about being non-white, they have accepted me as a sister and "one of them." they love that i am darker and tell me i could be indonesian. they tell me i am "hitam-manis" ('black-sweet'), which means i am pretty and sweet even though i am black and tell me that they think i am much nicer than other bules 'foreigners' they have met.

no one knows very much english at all. the men at school love to tell me i am beautiful and ask me to go to the movies with them. (they are all married and innocent, so it is just funny and flattering). i randomly hear "i love you, miss vidhi" in the halls from the boys and the girls. sometimes i feel like i am teaching in a middle school as opposed to a high school. the women always compliment me on my figure, hair, and face. and everyone, EVERYONE, will always go up and over and around the corner out of their way to help me.

i have learned that a smile, even when youre really pissed off or tired or cold, can go a long way. talk about universal language =D the best thing about the indonesian smile is its genuine nature. you can tell that when they smile back, they really mean it. its the best.

smiling is great, even by myself.

the other day i was taking a shower at four in the afternoon when the power went out. this meant the water also stopped dripping (to say 'stopped flowing' would be a horrible misrepresentation of how fast the water comes out of the nozzle). i was all soaped up in my cockroach infested bathroom with nowhere to go. now i could have gotten really upset, but i decided to start laughing, just as my fellow indonesians have taught me to do, and the situation rectified itself in ten minutes or so.

i would really like to be fluent in indonesian. now. it is a slow and arduous process. i am learning but there are just so many words, haha!

today was my first day of actually teaching on my own in the classroom! i will write about the students and afterschool life next time.

til then, be proud of whatever color you are..purple, blue, brown, yellow, orange, red, black, or green. and yes. even white.

no more big yellow school buses

first day of school (september 28, 2009):

i woke up for my first day of school like every other first day of school: ridiculously groggy and disgusted by the chirping alarm being emitted from my cell phone at 5:30 am. i took a shower and put on my very best first day of school outfit. long black dress pants and a navy blue longsleeved button-up dress shirt. ibu zulfah was supposed to pick me up at 7:00 am. she arrived promptly at 6:45 am. i quickly gathered my things and we were off on her motorbike to the high school.

my very first day at SMAN3, was the first day back for all the students and staff; they were off for Ramadan, a month long religious holiday and the school's state appropriately reflected that it had been vacant for a some time. so it was a pseudo first day for everyone. to begin the week, every week, there is a flag ceremony. during this ceremony all 1400 students stand, grouped by grade level in the courtyard and face the flag. the teachers stand in front, next to the flag. this week was obviously no exception.

after some student leaders recited the national anthem, the headmaster started speaking. during his speech, a teacher nudged me and said, "five minute speech, ya? you new. some indonesia some english, ya? ok. ya. it will be ok, ya?"

uh...sure id love to speak in front of 1400 students and 100 teachers on my very first hour in my very first day at your school.

so not like any other first day of school.

the headmaster finished his speech, and i was shoved towards the podium. i stepped over the chords and squinted into the sunlight to see a wave of fresh young (profusely sweating) faces. i gave a short speech half in indonesian and half in english. everyone cheered after each indonesian sentence. i felt like a rockstar. a really really sweaty rockstar. after i finished, the students and teachers applauded and whistled. i walked backed to my former position under the shade and then waited in line with the other teachers as each one of the 1400 students came up to shake our hands.

except the handshake isnt a typical handshake. it is like the following:

in order to show respect to teachers/elders/those in authority, the students take the teacher's right hand with both of their hands and put it up to their forehead or cheek and bow.

this takes a while since there are 1400 students.

did i mention it was only 8am?

after the greetings and the handshaking, i went to my first observation. for the first two weeks at our school, we were only supposed to observe the teachers and their interactions with the students. only in the third week were we to start teaching. this idea sounded great when AMINEF told us about it back at the Novotel in bandung...except it didnt really happen.

definition in english of observation: sitting and watching to receive knowledge of how something or some task occurs or is performed

definition of observation in indonesian english: giving a speech about yourself to each class and every class and subsequently answering the barrage of questions that follow...giving a speech about yourself and then praying for your time to be up because no one is asking questions because no one can speak english and no one has understood a single word you said.

so... i spent the whole day running from 45 minute class to 45 minute class (the teachers here switch classrooms, not the students) answering questions and telling the students about myself. after about midday, the heat really started to get to me. there is no air conditioning and most classrooms don't have fans. some classes were really alert and asked many questions. others stared blankly and giggled after every word i spoke. while i was in the classroom, many teachers would walk out or zone out into indonesian teacher dreamland. it was frustrating because i know many of the students just didnt understand what i was saying, and i could have used some translation help. although about half of the english teachers cant really speak english either...so i guess it would not have helped so much. between 7th and 8th period i realized how hard my job was going to be...but how excited i was to be here.

i finished my day at about 2:00 pm and ibu zulfah dropped me off back at my home. i was exhausted (who knew talking about yourself for 7 hours straight could be so tiring). i took a mini nap and went to explore the city on my own in the evening.

definitely the most unique first day of school. ever. and i didnt get picked on (in english, anyway...). score.

quote i love to live

"I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy."

-anais nin.

hell yeah anais. i have had my first week in medan! so much to share...i will update sometime this weekend. also, there was a tragic earthquake in padang, sumatra as most of you know. over 1000 people have died and many are still crushed beneath the rubble. please send your love and prayers to those suffering. there was a fulbrighter in padang, but he is ok. everyone i know is safe and well. thank you for all your e-mails and messages. love.