Indonesia is changing me. I believe it takes at least 5 or 6 months (more or less) in a new place to begin to realize the small changes that have occurred within you since moving. This is just the time it takes to adapt to and adopt some of the cultural norms as second nature. I now salim every person I meet. I then ask them how they’re doing to which they reply “baik, Alhamdulillah” (good, God willing.) I’m also now comfortable saying no thanks to 70 % of the offers of snacks and tea and “I’m so sorry but please dear God no” to around 50 % of the requests for photos (on a good day). In other words, at this 5 month mark I am comfortable enough with the customs to set small boundaries – no small feat for me in any country.
My body too, is adapting. Although the majority of the food I eat is similar to what I ate in America (i.e. rice, tempeh, vegetables, fruit, chicken, beef) I have dropped some foods like almost all dairy, with the exception of eggs, and added new fruits to my diet: jackfruit, durian, salak and jengkol (also the name of my street, which makes everyone laugh for some reason. The closest I’ve come to understanding this is that jengkol smells bad…) The days when cereal upsets my stomach are times of deep reflection for me on just how much adaptation is required for this experience. My digestive system and I have gone through a lot together over the past few months and I wonder sometimes when, if ever, I will adapt to the new bacteria, climate…etc.
I love going to new places. I’m rarely at peace when sitting still. I think because of this restlessness I always ask friends, “so what do you want to do today?” implying that being active is necessary to have a productive/satisfactory day. This summer has been different from ones past in some respects, namely in that I haven’t asked that question of anyone and I don’t feel too concerned with planning out my own activities. It may be a phase or part of acclimating to the pace of life in West Java. I have not been on any exotic trips lately and yet I don’t feel bored. There is rarely a dull moment when you are in a communal setting. My school is a tight-knit community where the teachers all pile into a caravan to drive 3 hours away to see a fellow teacher’s newborn and the students come in on Sunday, their one day off, to do art projects or practice sports. Today, Indonesia’s Independence day (Selamat Murdeka!), when I went in to use the wifi to skype, I was met with the usual four or five students milling around. Later, after the flag ceremony in Karawang Central, several dozen students sat in clusters cutting up red and white tissue paper into little flags to hang around the school. There were no teachers around and they hadn’t been asked to make these decorations, they just wanted to hang out and celebrate Independence Day. When asked, I told some of them that among my family and friends we usually just eat a lot and watch fireworks on our Independence Day in America.
My family is also their own readily inclusive, ever-active unit and the neighborhood I live in has its own communal thread. I am guilty of taking plenty of time for personal space, but with neighborhood kids wanting to play hide and seek and my siblings running around telling me there’s a cat at the back door or a soccer game about to start or my host parents always hosting some event, I find that I don’t want for personal space as much as I used to.
Since moving out of my own intentional community I’ve sought out different communal lifestyles and, of course, each has their own unique features. I believe we are social creatures whose lives are shaped by those around us and so I believe I will always be intensely interested in seeing how different communities work. Here, the communal spirit exists within each and every person as much as it has with the closest friend group I’ve ever had the good fortune to be a part of. It’s cultural; togetherness isn’t just a habit, it’s an instinct. Every time my family is hosting an event the kitchen is filled with 7-8 women who cook the enormous amounts of food the night before, clean up and then pray with my host mother before leaving the next day. My host mother never actually cooks for any of these events, so abundant is the help of our neighbors. I might have had a slightly different experience if I weren’t living in the house of one of the most active and influential families in the neighborhood (as I’ve been told by several outside sources), but I’m sure the customs would be observed just the same anywhere I was. Indonesians are some of the nicest, most social people I have ever met. I’ll rephrase that – Indonesians are the nicest, most social people I’ve ever met. Personal space may not always exist but in the end that doesn’t matter much. From sunrise to sunset their lives are threads in a larger picture and I think they are beautiful for it.
Also, my camera is temporarily out of commission so I apologize for the copious text without a visual oasis. Please see this article if this is a problem for you.
My body too, is adapting. Although the majority of the food I eat is similar to what I ate in America (i.e. rice, tempeh, vegetables, fruit, chicken, beef) I have dropped some foods like almost all dairy, with the exception of eggs, and added new fruits to my diet: jackfruit, durian, salak and jengkol (also the name of my street, which makes everyone laugh for some reason. The closest I’ve come to understanding this is that jengkol smells bad…) The days when cereal upsets my stomach are times of deep reflection for me on just how much adaptation is required for this experience. My digestive system and I have gone through a lot together over the past few months and I wonder sometimes when, if ever, I will adapt to the new bacteria, climate…etc.
I love going to new places. I’m rarely at peace when sitting still. I think because of this restlessness I always ask friends, “so what do you want to do today?” implying that being active is necessary to have a productive/satisfactory day. This summer has been different from ones past in some respects, namely in that I haven’t asked that question of anyone and I don’t feel too concerned with planning out my own activities. It may be a phase or part of acclimating to the pace of life in West Java. I have not been on any exotic trips lately and yet I don’t feel bored. There is rarely a dull moment when you are in a communal setting. My school is a tight-knit community where the teachers all pile into a caravan to drive 3 hours away to see a fellow teacher’s newborn and the students come in on Sunday, their one day off, to do art projects or practice sports. Today, Indonesia’s Independence day (Selamat Murdeka!), when I went in to use the wifi to skype, I was met with the usual four or five students milling around. Later, after the flag ceremony in Karawang Central, several dozen students sat in clusters cutting up red and white tissue paper into little flags to hang around the school. There were no teachers around and they hadn’t been asked to make these decorations, they just wanted to hang out and celebrate Independence Day. When asked, I told some of them that among my family and friends we usually just eat a lot and watch fireworks on our Independence Day in America.
My family is also their own readily inclusive, ever-active unit and the neighborhood I live in has its own communal thread. I am guilty of taking plenty of time for personal space, but with neighborhood kids wanting to play hide and seek and my siblings running around telling me there’s a cat at the back door or a soccer game about to start or my host parents always hosting some event, I find that I don’t want for personal space as much as I used to.
Since moving out of my own intentional community I’ve sought out different communal lifestyles and, of course, each has their own unique features. I believe we are social creatures whose lives are shaped by those around us and so I believe I will always be intensely interested in seeing how different communities work. Here, the communal spirit exists within each and every person as much as it has with the closest friend group I’ve ever had the good fortune to be a part of. It’s cultural; togetherness isn’t just a habit, it’s an instinct. Every time my family is hosting an event the kitchen is filled with 7-8 women who cook the enormous amounts of food the night before, clean up and then pray with my host mother before leaving the next day. My host mother never actually cooks for any of these events, so abundant is the help of our neighbors. I might have had a slightly different experience if I weren’t living in the house of one of the most active and influential families in the neighborhood (as I’ve been told by several outside sources), but I’m sure the customs would be observed just the same anywhere I was. Indonesians are some of the nicest, most social people I have ever met. I’ll rephrase that – Indonesians are the nicest, most social people I’ve ever met. Personal space may not always exist but in the end that doesn’t matter much. From sunrise to sunset their lives are threads in a larger picture and I think they are beautiful for it.
Also, my camera is temporarily out of commission so I apologize for the copious text without a visual oasis. Please see this article if this is a problem for you.
