Teachers for Global Classrooms 2018
I write this entry from the comfort of my living room. It's raining outside and I will be getting ready for CCD and mass soon. It's been a little over a month since I left Indonesia. I am happy to say that our cohort still chats with each other and that Fida, Fitri, and Joe are always in my thoughts. Thank god for whatsapp because it allows us to communicate in real time for free. We chat about serious stuff or just silly stuff. That's what makes it so great. Since we left Kampar, the kids have celebrated Indonesian Independence Day and have gone camping with their teachers. There was also a ceremony to announce the purchase of fans for every classroom! Fitri sent me a crazy video of a cow being killed for a celebration. My family said it was very similar to Mexican traditions where a big event is celebrated by the killing of an animal (usually a goat or a calf) for a large meal. We can find connections between Indonesian culture and our culture everywhere! I have yet to try and make Indonesian food (nasi goreng) but that is on my to-do list this year (along with purchasing my own motorbike!). I bought home spices to try them out. I haven't unpacked all of my souvenirs just yet. I want to preserve the smell of Thamrin City Mall as long as possible! Do I have any regrets? Sure. I should have bought a Koran to show my students back home. I wish I would have left The Shang more often to meet locals outside of shops. I hope I left a positive impression with the people I met along the way. This is my message to future TGC fellows: Don't act the way I did when I found out I was being sent to Indonesia. The country is safe and charming in ways you'll understand once you experience it for yourself. Most importantly, the people of Indonesia will leave an impression on your heart. You will be a better person because of their kindness and faith.
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Today was a lazy day but we were all so tired! We all had big days ahead of us. We didn’t have to meet until 9am. That’s when the bus was going to pick us up for our shopping trip. Wyatt said we were going to Thamrin City Mall – which is five stories tall and filled with shopping stalls. It has everything.
Even though it’s so massive, Wyatt only gave us 1 hour and 20 minutes to shop! Ugh! I barely hit two floors. I found three stalls that I really liked. The first one was run by a woman who spoke English. She had some really pretty Batik dresses and blouses. I found a dress for me (instead of XX-large, they call it Jumbo – YIKES). I found a house dress for mom. Another stall I liked was run by a couple. The woman spoke very good English and I asked her where she was from. She said they were from India. I bought some purses and brooches (from India) From them. They put them in a cool garment bag. I hope Marissa likes the purse I got her. Then, when I leaving the India stall, I saw some Muslim prayer rugs and decided to check it out. I was afraid of asking to buy one because I don’t know the etiquette for prayer rugs. There were some young guys there and they were trying to help me. I went a little crazy at this stall. I bought two large tapestries and about five small rugs with mosques on them. They are so beautiful. I want to use them as decorations but also as souvenirs for people. I think they are cool and I hope people like them. After our time was up, we went to a department store. But this time, we went straight to the fifth floor because that is where the Indonesian craft section was. This was something cool too because they had all kinds of souvenirs – hand made items, little cheap things like pencil and keychains, statues, and jewelry. We all spent a lot of time there. While waiting in line, Flo and Wyatt were in front of me. Flo started to ask Wyatt about how much the host teachers were compensated and how much Dewi (our in-country consultant) makes. I asked if they were paid according to American standards or Indonesian standards. Wyatt said he couldn’t reveal the number but added they were well compensated. I was still upset he didn’t really answer the question. I always remember what teachers make here and how they must struggle even after having a demanding job like teaching. When Flo was checking out, she spent over two million rupiah. We all said that’s more than an Indonesian teacher makes in one month! Then we started to wonder what all these workers must think of us. Are we obnoxious? Are we wasting money? That sort of thing. I think about that all the time. The workers at our hotel are so nice and polite but I wonder how much they make. The Shang is one of the best hotels in the city – so it’s very prestigious to work here – but I often wonder if they are compensated or treated well by their bosses. You would never know because they always have a smile on their face. I think about them a lot. Did they go to a vocational school to learn about tourism? Are they happy here? I think about all of the students across Indonesia who are in vocational high schools training to work at hotels or in the service industry. I hope their lives will be happy. After shopping, we decided to present Dewi our gift of thanks. We each tried to donate something for her. I gave her a cat book with quotes about life – I saved it for her because she went out of her way to always tell me how much she disliked cats. I also gave her some American magazines I had and my flat iron. I really hope I see Dewi and Fidalia again. I consider both of them incredibly brave. They are both beautiful inside and out. I can’t imagine being Muslim, leaving your family to move thousands of miles away for five months, to a country that doesn’t have that many Muslims. If I ever have a daughter, I hope she is as brave as them. It started to hit me early in the morning that our time in Indonesia was coming to a close. I decided that since I woke up early, I would try to make the most of my day and go sightseeing. I didn’t want anyone to go with me, I just wanted to get out of the fortress that is The Shang. I went outside to the cab line and waited about 10 minutes for a blue bird taksi (that’s how they spell it!) I asked him to take me to Jakarta Cathedral.
I was hoping the ride would take about 15 mins and that I would get a good hour at the cathedral to walk around and take pictures. Nope! Not in Jakarta. This was the first time I saw crazy Jakarta traffic – like Matt from the previous cohort warned us about in Washington. It took about 45 mins to go to the cathedral. I was so worried that I wouldn’t get back to The Shang in time and I would make everyone late for our school visit. On the way to the church, the cab driver showed me his iphone and he had google translate on. He was apologizing to me about the time and said it was Jakarta traffic. He then gave me his whatsapp number!! The church was lovely. It looked like any large cathedral you’d see in Europe. They followed Indonesian tradition and kept the doors open. This causes little birds to be flying inside the church itself. They were flying and singing. It was very pretty . The church had maybe three other people inside. I only stayed about 20 mins but I tried to take it all in. I loved that Indonesians have their own “Virgin Mother” as well. I prayed that mom has a safe trip to Japan and to thank god for this experience in TGC. Not only did we get a trip to Washington, I got to experience Indonesia, and now I’m getting ready to meet mom in Japan. It just all feels so surreal! Outside of the church, I was worried about finding a cab. While I was waiting…a driver to one of those tiny blue cab things was motioning to me. I told him okay and he helped me cross the street. When I told him where I needed to go, he said for me to get a real taksi. Luckily, one came quickly but traffic was still a nightmare. It took another 45 mins just to return to The Shang. Not to mention that my cabbie missed the security entrance and we had to go around the corner. I was freaking out and asked if he had whatsapp or a phone I could use. I wanted to call Wyatt and tell him where I was. I realized I hadn’t told anyone that I was leaving he hotel alone that morning. Lo and behold, I made it back in time. Our bus was late, so it was no big deal. Our bus took us to the primary school President Obama attended as a kid in Indonesia. It seemed like it was in downtown Jakarta in a nice neighborhood. As soon as we walked in, I saw a plaque with Obama’s face and then a statue of a little boy “Barry” playing with a butterfly. It was all very special. When we stepped inside of the school, a small group of kids were playing music for us. Even a little boy – who we would later be told was only 6 – was playing the drums. This school was unlike any we saw in Kampar. First, it was immaculate. Second, it had corporate sponsors. Third, when we walked into classrooms, you immediately felt the AC. It was too cold. I wonder what the kids in Kampar would think. It didn’t seem fair that they had to learn in the sweltering heat and other kids did not. It reminded me a conversation Kelly said she had with some students. They told her there is a huge disparity in the quality of schools based on what island you live on. Everyone – they said – knows about the disparity. It was very obvious to all of us. It was nice to see the Obama connection. The principal said he gets tourists every month wanting to see Obama’s school. He even took us to a classroom where President Obama signed the whiteboard! His autograph is still there – in dry erase marker. I thought that was cool. Before we left the school, we took pictures near the Obama statue. I love that it’s here and that it’s of him as a boy not a President. After the school visit, we had lunch at The Shang and started our debrief sessions. Saturday morning, we found Fitri and her daughter waiting for us outside. They had come on their motorbike. They wanted to say goodbye to us one last time.
Fitri bought Joe some Indonesian food. It was so cute. She made him these potato things called bobies - which I'm sure I misspelled - and she bought him some green cake that he liked at her dinner. I know this made Joe very happy. He told Fida and me that he lost his mother two years ago. Fitri treated him like a son and she started crying when she was saying goodbye. It was a very sweet moment. We all started crying. Then, Fitri hugged Joe. This was big because Muslim women don’t normally hug someone (a male) who is not in their family. This got us even more emotional. Fitri was wearing this awesome camouflage jacket and I told her (again) that I would love to see her closet. She is always wearing something elegant and beautiful. The night before, she told me she could give me a Muslim dress if I wanted – and, of course, I got all excited and immediately said yes. Then, Fida had chimed in. She said I was not Muslim and therefore I could not wear a Muslim dress and ended the conversation. I was kind of upset at that but I had to respect her beliefs. Even though we see the world so differently, at the end of our stay I really felt like I had two new friends for life. Joe and Fida are two people I really care about and I hope I see again. At the airport, Fida told us goodbye and hoped that we see each other again. I was surprised that she still didn’t hug Joe but, of course, we also respected her wishes. Joe even asked her if they could hug in a semi-joking way and she politely responded no. I tried to not dwell on it because it was just a hug after all. To Americans, hugs mean you care about that person. Her culture is just different. I know in my heart Fida cares about the both of us. She had her own ways of showing us. Joe and I flew to Jakarta knowing that the city would be so different than Bangkinang. Jakarta is hard because we are constantly in our big bus and we are literally looking down on the people of Jakarta. I feel so separated from them. In Bangkinang, we see people face to face and have gone to their homes. I was also afraid that each teacher would try to one-up each other with their stories from the host schools. I was wrong about that. Each teacher was excited to share their experiences and their surprises but no one seemed to be bragging or complaining about their experience. We all have our own stories and together they will tell the story of Indonesia. We knew this day was going to hard. We had to say goodbye to the kids and to the school. Even the drive to school was a little sad. I knew I would not see the same houses, mosques, or people again. I tried to take as many pictures as I could but it won’t be the same. I always loved our drives to school even though the snake-like roads would give me a headache. I loved the color. It was everywhere. Mosques were painted beautiful colors. We saw pink houses, orange houses, purple houses. Everything was so beautiful. Most houses had beautiful gardens in the front. Most houses had clothes drying on line outside. That was another favorite thing to see – all the different clothes hanging on the line perfectly. Today, we saw so many faces and shook so many hands. There are some kids I will always think about because of their personality, they were school leaders. Students and adults looked up to them and trusted them with the school. Those students are the future of Kampar and the future of Indonesia. When we arrived in the morning, the students were preparing for their Islamic ceremony. All of the students were in brightly colored prayer clothes which I didn’t know to expect. Nearly all of the boys were wearing this bright blue color - and by mere coincidence that day, so was I. A couple of boys took out two large prayer rugs and began to roll them out on the courtyard. Then students sat on them – boys in front, girls in the back. There were four guest speakers – all students. One was the MC it seemed and the others prayed or read from the Koran. The ceremony lasted maybe an hour. I watched the students as they prayed. This ceremony seemed very meaningful to them. When the ceremony was over, Joe and I were asked to speak to the students and say our goodbyes. I thanked the students for accepting me into their school and told them I felt like I was leaving with a new understanding of Indonesia and Islam. I promised them that I would return to the United States and share what I have learned with my students and family. Joe thanked the students as well – in Bahasa, no less – and got a little emotional. Then the principal asked us to stand near the front and the other teachers joined us. He wanted each student to be able to say goodbye. So, there we were, in a line with the rest of the teachers, and the students lined up to say goodbye. This was overwhelming. Students shook our hand and did the respectful Kampar greeting for teachers. It was very beautiful. Some students said “Bye Miss” or “Thank you” or “Have a nice trip to America”. Then, when it was the girls’ turn, some of them started saying, “Bye Ms. Carrola” and “Thank you, Ms. Carrola”. This is when I lost it – I could no longer hold in my emotions. I guess it was hearing my name – the name I am normally called at Whittier, my father’s name – that got to me. It was a very emotional experience. I started crying and could not stop. After every student was finished, we took pictures. This caused another round of emotions to hit us. It was really over for now. I feel so blessed because one of the students – the same one from yesterday – had grabbed my camera during the ceremony and was taking pictures for me. I was able to tell the students thank you without holding that camera or taking pictures myself. It was such a nice gesture and it meant a lot to me. Thank you, Taufik. After pictures were over, the students had to go to class. Joe and I asked if we could observe a teacher we both liked - the sociology teacher. He was an interesting guy. He had a second job working for a Swedish boss somewhere and had to speak English with his boss. He always spoke to us in English asking questions and inviting us to his class. During his class, he gave a lecture on Asian cultures and populations. Then he stopped his lecture and invited us to speak to his class. We introduced ourselves and then I asked the class if anyone wanted to practice their English with us. Some said yes and raised their hands – and then they got really quiet and shy. Most kids were able to say this to us – “Good morning.” “Good morning.” “How are you?” “I’m fine, how are you?” Some students knew so much more English. Maybe from watching movies or because their parents also teach them at home. Fida said that the government only mandates that English be taught in high school. She disagrees with this decision because, she said, if students are able to speak English fluently, they will get better jobs in Indonesia and outside of Indonesia. I admire her passion. She is very respectful to tradition but she is also forward thinking. She knows that students have to be able to compete in a 21st Century workforce and learning English will help them. I told the class how where Joe lives it snows all of the time. We talked about snow a little – both the students’ and I see snow as something magical, Joe not so much – and I asked if anyone had seen Frozen. The kids said yes and then a girl said she would sing a song for us from Frozen. We both got all excited but the girl was too nervous. So, I don’t know how or why, but Joe and I and two other brave souls started singling Let it Go in front of the class. It was pretty bad but also freeing. We both felt very comfortable around the students. It was a warm feeling. Then, a student in the class was asked to sing and he was phenomenal. Then, the teacher sang! It was crazy and I couldn’t help but think that this would almost never happen in my class at Whittier. Everyone is too shy. Indonesian kids are different. They seem like they love to make other people happy and they love to express themselves through song, dance, or prayer. It’s a beautiful thing. After the class ended, we headed to the conference room to get ready for our presentations. Joe and I both made slideshows about our states and about our schools. The teachers asked us questions about where we lived, students’ clothes and things like that. I wish I would have used more pictures in my show because my Instagram page was not loading fast enough. After our presentation, the principal said he had gifts for us. Joe and I were both given a thank you trophy in the form of a fishing boat – as an homage to the fishing village we were in. It was lovely and in a bright yellow box. I remembered Fida said that yellow is the color of the Riau province so even the box was special. We were then gifted letters from the students to our students back home. These made me so happy. As we were walking around the courtyard, some students were handing us gifts – I got a necklace that matched my red shoes and bracelets that I will treasure. A male student, Wyudah, handed me what I thought was a note at first. It was a drawing of a woman – without a headscarf – in a beautiful, dramatic evening gown. I remembered he had told us the day before his plan was to be a fashion designer. It was a beautiful picture and I feel lucky to have it. I asked him to sign it so when he becomes a famous designer I can say I once knew him as a boy. It’s perfect. After our talk, questions, and gifts we started to head to the car. More pictures! It was an emotional morning. Even though it was still relatively early, I was exhausted from all the emotions. But it’s hard to say no because the kids are so excited and I wanted one last moment with them. It was already 11 after our pictures and, since it was Friday, most of the students we leaving to go to mosque or home for prayer. This was the end of their day. We decided to leave. Driving back to our hotel area was again an emotional experience. I hope I see this village again but I don’t know if I ever will. I would love for my family to meet all of the crazy, loud, and funny people we have met in Kampar. Even if I do return, it won’t be the same as it is now. I tried to stop feeling sad and enjoy the moment. We were both so exhausted at this point – and hungry! We hadn’t been able to eat breakfast the past couple of days because Fida was picking us up at 6:40 am or so to go to school on time. We usually had a few cups of tea and that was it. During the sociology class, Joe said something really stuck out to me. We were both whispering how very hot the classroom was. Unbearable. I told Joe that at least the classroom from yesterday – where he did his lesson – had fans. The room where I did my lesson had no fans and the windows were closed. I was dripping with sweat. Every morning, I have been straightening my hair at the hotel but you would never know it in pictures. I was sweating so much that my hair was getting all wet and wavy again. Joe said that Fida told him students raised money to buy fans for that classroom. I told Joe that’s what we need to do. We need to buy the school fans as a thank you. Joe agreed and we made a plan. When we were driving away from the school, we told Fida our plan. She thought it was a nice gesture and said she could take us a place that sold fans. We were so tired and hungry but this was important. Fida said we could buy the fans now and then present them to the principal at our goodbye dinner that evening. We stopped at two places. The second place had standing had fans that we purchased. We bought 5 in all. They didn’t fit in Fida’s tiny car, so the store said they could deliver them to the hotel. The principal could pick them up at the hotel that night. It was so funny that the store delivered five boxed fans by motorbike. I wish I would have taken a picture of the driver carrying the fans! Just the idea of the students sitting in those steamy classrooms was bothering me. I always felt guilty because no matter how hot I got or how sweaty I got, I would tell myself that at least my hotel room would be freezing cold when we would take our breaks or go home for the night. I was very lucky in that respect. I didn’t know if the students had AC at home but I would guess probably not. I remembered that I bought some souvenir money with me for Japan and I would put it to better use. I decided that I would write Fida a card and just put that money in there and ask her to buy even more fans for the school. I wish I had more to give or a better way to help the students. I just can’t imagine trying to learn and be so hot at the same time. It’s not always so hot. Sometimes there is breeze that feels very nice. Sometimes a classroom will have their windows open and it just feels warm. No student should be sweating and trying to learn at the same time. I can’t imagine if the AC went down at Whittier. It would be impossible to teach and to learn. We are all very spoiled with air conditioning. Before Indonesia, I never considered that there were kids around the world who were forced to learn in the blistering heat. It breaks my heart. After we returned to the hotel and the fans were dropped off, I was hoping that we could get some rest. Joe and I said we would take a walk and find food on our own. I was looking forward to exploring on our own. It sounds strange but that is something we didn’t really do. We were always with Fida. I’m not sure if it was intentional or just her looking out for us. Some of the other teachers in the program were able to go to dinner on their own, or take walks, or have their own time. Not us. We were always together – don’t get me wrong, I cherish those memories. But sometimes it’s fun to get lost and experience places on your own in your own way. Fida and Fitri insisted that they take us to lunch and then we could have a break. I was disappointed but I had to respect their decision. When we came back from leaving our things in our rooms, I saw that Fitri’s daughter had come on her motorbike to join us. I decided to take a gamble and ask Fida if I could ride the motorbike with her. It is something I have been wanting to do since Jakarta but was too afraid. At least here, in Bangkinang, there was less people and less likelihood of getting hurt. Fida and Fitri first got quiet and didn’t seem to approve. Then Fitri got out of the car and said she would take me. Even better! Fitri put on her helmet and I jumped on the back of the bike. It was easier than I thought and comfortable. At first, I didn’t know where to put my hands – her shoulders or her waist? I was holding onto her shoulders but was afraid that she needed to move them to “drive”. So I put my hands on her waist. And then I let go and was riding without holding onto anything. She was going slower than the other bikes but I didn’t care. It was liberating and fun and I could see the appeal of driving around on a motorbike. It was nice to have the breeze in your face and a roaring machine between your legs. We took selfies as she drove and I couldn’t stop smiling. When we got to the restaurant, we all laughed at the experience and then we decided that Joe would go next – on the trip back home! It was funny to watch Joe and Fitri. You couldn’t even see Fitri with Joe riding behind her. Fida said you don’t see a man riding behind a female driver (ever) and a boulee man (a white man) is even more shocking! People on the street were doing double-takes. It was hilarious! After we ate, Fida decided it was a good time to give us gifts. She did not want to give them in front of everyone else. She gave both of us the same Batik which is this beautiful turquoise. She gave us coins, a small purse (rice bag), and gifts for our family members. She is the most thoughtful person. She gave me a shawl for mom which I knew immediately she would love. I can't wait for mom to wear it so I can take a picture of her in it for Fida. Our last night in Bankingang, Fida picked us up at 7:30 pm. We went to a well-known restaurant in Bankingang. The owner’s granddaughter was on Indonesia’s Got Talent and won 500,000 million rupiah. They had picture of her on the walls of the restaurant. The girl is about six, blind, and sings beautifully. Dinner was nice. Just because, Joe and I ate with our hands. We both still made a mess but everyone else ate perfectly. The principal - Rinaldi – wore blue jeans and it was probably the first time I saw blue jeans in Bangkinang. Which is pretty crazy since we had been there one week. After dinner, we took pictures and said our thank yous. Fida said that the school had good news today. The government was buying them three new computers! I have to say I really like the principal. He was very welcoming to us and attended all of the events that we spoke at. During our meeting with the education minister, he let us ask questions. Usually , you expect someone to be a show off in front of an important person but he wasn’t like that. The principal said he makes a lot more than the teachers (maybe 500,000 rupiah) and also owns a farm. Having a second paying job seems essential in Indonesia. Teachers – certified by the government – make between $300-400 a month. On top of that, there is limited resources, no wifi, and you still have to buy your own supplies. It’s unbelievable but every teacher we met seems so happy and content. Flo, in our TGC group, spoke about this a little. She said American teachers have all of these advantages – technology, new buildings, air conditioning, numerous resources to choose from – yet we struggle with getting all of our students engaged in lessons. Indonesian teachers do not have those luxuries yet seem content. Something doesn’t add up. That night, I had this overwhelming feeling of sadness. I hope to see Fida and Fitri and Bangkinang again. But, in all honesty, I feel like I won’t. I would love to see the students again – all grown up – and ready to take on the world and challenge the status quo. I decided to break my own rule and follow students on social media (mostly IG) just so I could see what’s going on in their lives. I would love to see their faces again. I tried to pack as much as I could and left some clothes and little things behind. Even though the hotel was crazy bare, Joe and I were very happy that the air conditioning worked and that the mosque was across the street. It was so lovely to hear prayers during the day and as we woke up. I couldn’t have asked for a better stay in Bangkinang. Today was our big day. Joe and I were so nervous to present our lessons to the class. We talked about them endlessly and changed the content numerous times. I know my objective was to have students write poems. I've never had a bad day at Whittier when my students are writing poems. They always surprise me and touch my heart. Every time.
Joe wanted his class to perform a drama. I would say we were both successful! The kids pulled through and we were lucky to have TWO teachers helping us with translating. That made a huge difference in the confidence level of the students. My class wrote "I am" poems from different points of view (in English) and then we all sat in a circle reading our poems. Fidalia was nudging students to read so it felt like the real thing! Sometimes I have to do it with my students! One thing I couldn't get over was the sweltering heat each classrooms. The kids and teachers didn't seem to mind but I was so unbearable. It was hard to think of anything else. Joe and I were talking and we both wanted to see what we could do for the kids. We both decided that before we leave, we wanted to give a school gifts to thank them for the kindness to us this past week. We decided to pull our rupiah together and buy the school some extra fans for classrooms. After our lessons, we had lunch at school and then we went back to the conference room. Joe and I were to give short presentations on our home schools and then open the floor for questions and answers. I was planning to use my instagram account to show pictures of our school activities but many of the pictures weren't loading as fast as wee needed. It was funny to see Joe's presentation because he was teaching ME things I didn't know about Wisconsin! Afterwards, we visited some classrooms. One of my favorite moments was when a student got his guitar and started singing to his Bahasa class. He then asked the class to join in - which they did. It was a nice moment. Fidalia had arranged for us to speak with the student leaders on campus. They are also called Student Council and made up of about 25 - most male - students. Joe and I commented that if we were to have a meeting with the student leaders on our campus most of them would be girls! Afterwards, we were able to speak to the kids about issues faces their lives at school and in their community. These are the questions I remember: They weren't all negative, we talked about everything and anything. One thing that stood out is that we had two teachers with us, so the students may have felt obligated to say certain things to us. Have you ever had to tell a teacher they were wrong? No, never. We would not say something like that. Do you know of any students who use drugs? No students use drugs. Raise your hand if you know anyone who has used drugs in the community? [almost everyone raises their hand] [To the girls] Is there a problem with the way boys treat the girls at school? (The boys shouted "No!!!" before the girls could answer.) Sometimes. A little. What problems are facing your community? Jobs, jail, pollution in the water, and people using drugs What happens if a student doesn't believe in God? Do they still have to pray every morning in school? [This question had the most negative response from almost every kid in the circle.] There is no one like that here. We all believe in Allah. What would like you me to tell my students in Texas about Indonesia? Tell your students...Islamic is not terrorist. That last statement really hit me in the gut. I consider myself a progressive liberal. Even I have had to confront my own perception about Muslims during this field experience. Even someone like me (who is a person of color and educated with two college degrees) still fell for the media's narrative about Islam. If I believe such lies, I shouldn't be so surprised when other people in my country do as well. About three of the students said they worked and went to school. One worked for a wedding planner. The others were fishermen with their families. When I asked about their parents' jobs they said answers like: fishermen, farmers, cooks. Very few students had parents that went to college. Only a handful. One student - who helped us the most this week - said his mom was a teacher! I could tell right away this student was privileged when we first met him. After school, we went shopping around Bangkinang. We bought some souvenirs to take home (teas and coffees) and Joe bought some candies for his kids to try at home. We stopped at a Batik store. It was nice to see a different side of town (all of the little storefronts). It was hard to accept that our time in Bangkinang was coming to a close. I realized on the ride home that I couldn't stop taking pictures of everything I saw. I wanted to remember it forever! I started to think if I would ever return to Indonesia or Bangkinang. I wish I could bring my family here. I wish they could meet Fida and Fitri. I want to see them eat with their hands and not make a mess. I want them to walk outside and hear the prayers. After dinner (the delicious bosek), we took a walk to a park near our hotel and the Islamic Center. Of course, you can buy food, drink, but you could also rent toy cars for your kids to drive in, buy cotton candy, rent time in a bouncy house, or try to catch fish. It was all very cute. One of Fitri’s old students was in charge of a little train and asked us if we wanted to jump in. It was only 10,000 rupiah (which is about 75 cents!). The train was so freaking cute. It was so dark outside but the train was lit up with Christmas lights. I thought we were going in the parking lot of the park to see all of the vendors – but, no! This teenie tiny train got on the streets of Bankingang right next to cars and motorcycles. It was very cute to see part of the city on this tiny little train. There is some famous Islamic preacher coming to the Islamic Center on Friday. I’m curious to see how big the crowd gets on Friday. Today, when we were leaving for dinner, I noticed you can see in side of the center. I saw hundreds of men on the ground praying. It was a very pretty sight because they were all in unison with one another. Today seemed like a quiet day. We went to school and hung out in the teacher's room. Joe and I wanted to see what the cantine was like but we couldn't find the right time. I really want to see how lunch is run because (to me) that is the most chaotic and controlled part of our school. I wanted to see how much freedom their students were given during lunch. Maybe another time.
While we were sitting in the teacher's lounge, Joe and I decided to quietly walk outside and watch a PE class. They were throwing javelins! I made the mistake of taking some pictures and the whole class starting coming to us! We were trying to avoid being a distraction. I'm sure the teachers must be over us already! I have to admit, the javelin throwing was pretty cool. Just watching the kids (boys and girls) play outside was nice. We took pictures and then we waited in the front of the school. It started to rain a little and then we noticed a soccer game had begun in the courtyard area. This made me so happy to see. I could imagine my students at Whittier playing soccer, in the rain, barefoot. We left school early today because we needed to travel to Pekenbaru which is about 1.5 hours away from Bangkinang. Pekinbaru is the nearest large city. Today, we were scheduled to meet the Riau Province Education Minister. The meeting was very informal. Even though I didn't get the answers I wanted, I was still pleased that he took the time to meet with us and entertain our questions. We asked him about standardized testing, the Indonesian national curriculum, and teacher training. I also asked questions about school safety and if there was a need for school guards. I explained to him how we hold fire drills and lockdown drills and asked if his schools hold anything comparable. (He responded that Indonesia was not like the United States and didn't need security at every school.) Then I asked a "#MeToo" question. I had to because I kept thinking about the young girls we were meeting and all of the female teachers we were meeting. A teacher we met at an elementary school just the day before asked us if we had problems with sexual harassment on our campuses. I told her every teacher has to get trained in reporting sexual harassment before the school year begins and we give our students lessons in reporting harassment too. I also told her how we go over our school expectations and that includes no touching and not making other people feel uncomfortable with words or actions. I told her sometimes a student will be sent to the counselor because they did or said something that made another student feel uncomfortable. If the issue persists, the parents are notified and our administration gets involved. We quietly asked her about the situation at her school and she said it was an issue. But, she said, it was an issue that was not dealt with so to speak. So, I asked the education minister what type of training or procedures are there for reporting sexual harassment at schools. That's when he responded that everything is fine, it was not necessary, and next question please. I didn't want to wear out my welcome so I didn't press the issue. When we left the meeting, we all went out to eat in a traditional restaurant in Pekenbaru. We ate with our hands and it seems like I am getting used to it! The best part was the tea. It was sweet tea! It was so perfect! After lunch, Fidalia (and her father who joined us), Joe, and I went to the largest library in Pekenbaru. We passed by it our first day in town and it has this huge book sculpture! We hoped to look around. Our real goal - since the past two days - was to find a place with wifi! Joe and I were desperate! The wifi at our hotel hasn't worked in two days and we are going crazy. Unfortunately, we were unable to access wifi at the library either! So we headed back home. We went back to the hotel for a rest. For our late dinner, Fidalia took us to the internet cafe. She was able to buy us an hour for a about a dollar. I used that time to FaceTime mom from the restaurant and post some pictures on IG. After that we went back to our hotel to get some sleep for another busy day! Today was the day I was looking forward to and dreading the most. Tonight, we were having dinner at Fitri’s house with Fidalia and other teachers at her high school. I knew the food would be amazing. I was mostly afraid of how we were eating (the traditional way – on the floor, using our hands) and being a boring guest. Admittedly, sometimes I get quiet and I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t having a good time or enjoying myself. I was thinking about our dinner the entire day!!!!
We hit four schools today! Joe and I couldn’t help but notice how very different each school was. Principals (or headmasters) have so much influence in the school culture. Just like in the States. The first school we visited was a vocational high school. The principal was female and her office staff was overwhelmingly female. I knew immediately that I was going to like her. Her office was nicely organized, pretty, and displayed student projects. She also had awards she has won recently displayed. One such award was “Most Popular”. Fidalia said she was her favorite principal so we knew we were in for a treat. We ended up going into this large classroom where the 11th graders were waiting for us. Different student groups greeted us. We had welcoming dancers, drummers, and a boy even sang to us. It was very nice. This school stood out because here I felt that students showed a little more individuality that we had seen before. Some of the musicians had longer hair. There were girls in the front row in athletic clothes. I still remember when Fidalia said that girls were not allowed to play soccer in the area near her home and that was always on my mind. My female students love soccer and they are always showing me pictures of themselves with their soccer teammates. They always look so happy. After the school visit, we went to an elementary school. This visit was pure pandemonium. It was exciting at first and then became a little scary. Students were running towards us barefoot. Tons of them. Students were pushing and shoving each other just to shake our hands. I was afraid some students might fall or even suffocate in the crowd. That’s how crazy it was. Around each school and home in Indonesia is a drainage system – it almost looks like a moat. I was so afraid that students would fall and hurt themselves in the chaos. We tried our best to make it through the crowd and greet as many students as possible. We made it to the teacher room where the staff was waiting for us to ask questions. This was another new experience. The principal was an older man who was very opinionated. I feel like maybe he was even more opinionated that we thought because Fidalia probably censored some of what he was telling us. One of the first things he told us was that our president needs to be “nicer to Muslims.” This stood out because before the trip one of my biggest fears was that the people we meet would bring up Trump and his policies towards Muslims. Surprisingly (thankfully) no one had until this visit. Our talk with the teachers was interesting as usual. We had the usual questions about our age, pay, and marital status. They asked us what we thought of Indonesia. I try to say at every school visit how I wanted to use this trip to learn more about Islam. It’s such a mystery in the United States that I want to learn more. I told Fidalia that I made a video of the call to prayers and sent it to me my family in Texas so they could hear it for themselves. She has mentioned that in a handful of school visits and that gets the biggest reaction. Sometimes they burst into applause. In my two weeks in the country, I’ve realized what I thought I knew about Muslims was wrong or just an often negative media portrayal. Muslim women have surprised me the most. In the US, they are portrayed as second class citizens. They are often portrayed as voiceless, quiet, and in the shadows. Victims of an oppressive culture. Imagine my surprise, when they are asking for selfies, hugging us, and being loud and silly with their friends. It’s been an eye opening experience. I expect that some people will ask me what was my favorite part of Indonesia when I get back home. My favorite part of the trip without a doubt has been meeting so many different Muslim women. They are leaders, wives, mothers. They are funny, loving, and ambitious. They are just like women anywhere. They are anything but voiceless or in the shadows in Indonesia. Our primary school visit today was a little unusual but again it showed the power of who is in charge. The principal had four young students waiting for us as walked in. Two girls and two boys. The girls each held a Koran. The principal said he wanted us to hear the students pray. The two girls read from the Koran. The first one read in Bahasa and the second one read in Arabic. The principal said this is done daily. Then he asked the young boys to stand up. Each boy took turns at the microphone leading a call to prayer. They were the same prayers that we hear on the microphone at our hotel. Only this time, the voice belonged to an eight year old. I had mixed feelings about this. I hate to see such young children act so serious. But it was hard not to feel something when you heard each boy pray. Their voices were very beautiful and the whole room was in stunned silence listening to them. Before we left, we had a debrief with the principal in the front office. To our surprise, Fidalia said this was her elementary school growing up! He started talking to us about supplies and resources. He confided that he only has three working computers on his campus for about 800 students. I got the impression from his talk that academics on his campus come second to Islamic studies. He was very proud that students at his school have won awards for their knowledge of the Koran. Everything he talked about was religion. This surprised me because this was a public school. After the primary school, we went to lunch with Fidalia’s father and two college professors. We had lunch near the Kampar River. There were fishermen just yards away catching fish with their nets. We saw men on their long fishing boats pass by. The café, Fidalia said, was very famous and people come from all over the region to eat the fish in the traditional way. This seems to be the thing in Kampar – for meals the most important part is the rice. Then the waiter brings out a large tray with the meal. Usually you have a very large bowl of white rice on the table for everyone to share. Then you get your meats chicken, fish, beef in bowls. Then you get vegetables in a bowl. Then you get about three or four bowls of spices/dipping sauces. Each table has bottles of water (always) and then a box with utensils and napkins. Utensils are optional. If a person eats in the traditional way, they have to clean their hands with the bowls of water also on the table. You clean your hand before and after you are done. Most places have a sink near the restaurant’s tables so customers can wash their hands after eating in the traditional way. To make things even more Indonesian, there are usually chickens roaming around as you eat. Joe and I decided to practice for our dinner tonight by eating with our hands for lunch. Have you eaten curry chicken and rice with your hands before? I have and trust me it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I felt like a complete mess. By some miracle my clothes survived the ordeal! Our lunch was quick because we had another school visit to attend (our last one for the day – or so we thought!). Our last visit was to a madrasah which I was looking forward to. A madrasah is a public school that focuses on academics and the Muslim religion. I already knew the word because I remember President Obama attended a madrasah in Indonesia when he was a young boy and people on the right tried to make it seem like madrasahs were terrorist training camps. Like kids are there learning to hate America and learning how to build bombs. The madrasah was the most beautiful school we have visited. The students were equally impressive. We stopped at an English class where students got up and introduced themselves. I was surprised that some of them love Japanese Anime. These students spoke English very well. After we left the class, a young girl ran outside to where we were speaking with Fidalia. She told Fidalia that she had something and Fidalia handed me a piece of paper. The girl had written me a note introducing herself. It was very sweet and something I will treasure. It’s a reminder to myself that often narratives spread by people in a position of power are often wrong. We then met the principal – or, in this case, the headmaster. A female! I told her during my talk that I was surprised the headmaster of an Islamic school was a female. And Fidalia told her how Islamic women are often portrayed in the US. The principal told me that there are many women headmasters. Many of them! This principal had the nicest office we have been to. She even had a fridge in her office and gave us cold water (a luxury!) and cold, bottled tea (another luxury!). I thought it was interesting how a religious school (like a madrasah) spent less time talking about Islam than the public primary school we visited earlier in the day. They were totally different approaches to religion. This principal suggested that we also visit the primary school next door. The student had already left home but she wanted us to see the campus so we walked next door. As we were walking, middle school students on their motorbikes were doing double takes at Joe. That never gets old. Bule - white person (foreigner) One boy’s jaw literally dropped when he saw Joe. The elementary school was also in pristine condition. The part that stood out to me was the nurse’s office. It looked like the wing of a hospital. It was beautiful. The principal said real doctors and nurses volunteer their time there. She also said that if parents or people in the community need to see a doctor they can go there for free. She was very proud of this and I thought it was a great way to build community. The Dinner: Fitri, it turns out, lives very close to our hotel. Our drive to her house wasn't far at all. When we first arrived, the first thing I notice was that the door was wide open - at night. Then, Joe and I were asked to take off our shoes and leave them on the porch. The first room in her house had no furniture just a long carpet on the floor which already had plates of covered food. After we walked in, we sat down (criss cross style) and were given water to drink. Then everyone started to arrive. The principal, his wife, the vice principal, the PE teacher and wife, Fitri's daughter Nurula, and even Fitri's mom. In Bahasa the word for grandma is Nanek. What a treat to meet Fitri's mom too! The food, of course, was delicious. I was afraid of making a mess but shockingly I didn't. The part that worried me was sitting down for almost two hours. I had to keep shifting my legs because they were falling asleep. I was really embarrassed at first but everyone told me it was fine and I saw others moving around too to get comfortable. After our dinner, Fitri brought out her desserts for us. She made a cake and all of these other things! Joe and I bought a cake earlier in the day for her and she made almost the same kind of cake! One cake was bright green and made from leaves. It was so beautiful because the color was all natural. It was this wonderful bright green. The living room walls also had this bright green color. I love all of the colors in Indonesia. Women wear colorful hijabs and dresses every day, houses are bright colors, walls are colorful. Even the cemeteries have colored tombstones. After dessert, we sat around listening to the teachers as they made jokes about one another and laughed. It was a a nice moment. Joe gave all of the them magnets with cheeseheads on them so they would have a gift from Wisconsin. Then, Fitri said she had something for us. Fitri bought out a tray of rings and told us to choose our favorite and keep it! They were all so big and beautiful! I saw this blue ring that stood out and - I guess it was meant to be - I tried it on my ring finger and it fit me perfectly. It just made this special night even more special. Fitri is something else, I tell you. Today was the big day. Our first official school visit in Kampar – complete with a flag ceremony (typically held on Mondays), a banner with our names, a government minister, and a welcoming ceremony with student performances! Our host school did not disappoint!
Fida was picking us up super early today. Luckily, the hotel’s breakfast bar was open at 6:30 am. The workers are super nice and dote on us. The tea is still wonderful. Today, they had sate (for breakfast!) and some bakwan that was really good. They were fried on the outside and had like egg noodles and veggies on the inside. It was very delicious. When Fidalia and Fitri came to pick us up they were both wearing their brown school/government uniforms. They looked comfortable and had pockets! I couldn’t help but start thinking about how some of the people we met have told us finding a civil servant job (like a teacher) gives you benefits that other jobs do not provide. You get paid even if you cannot make it to work. You get loans for houses and cars. You have healthcare and insurance. Not every teacher is a civil servant. So among teachers there are some that live more comfortable than others. When we arrived at the high school the kids were lining up and practicing their flag ceremony. I immediately noticed how this campus looks so much different than the school in Jakarta. You could tell that we were in a different type of area based on the students’ clothes. The local education minister for this area was at the ceremony and officially greeted us. We then got in place for the flag ceremony. This was nice to see the students honor their flag and country. It was all very slow and methodical. I liked how they had student leaders for each section of students. One was a female and she had to shout out commands to her section and to the students running the ceremony. We did notice that the male students all stood in front, while the female students stood behind them in every line. After the ceremony, the welcome began. As typical, the government minister gave a very long speech before we could begin. It went on and on and I started to notice the kids were getting restless. Students were wiggling around. I saw a group of boys who looked like Whittier students laughing and hitting each other on the arm across from us. I didn’t blame them for acting restless – the speech was going on and on. It was funny because I wasn’t the only one who had noticed these boys. Pretty soon, the Assistant Principal was among them giving them “the look”. He then started walking through their section and you saw each kid getting back in line and straitening up. It looked like a scene from Whittier and made me happy. After the speech we took some pictures with the teachers and then they asked Joe and I to move to the stage area. A group of students started bringing chairs, tables, and even a couch for us! A sign with our names was made and hung above us. I know it’s silly but it made me so happy to see “Carrola” spelled correctly. Joe and I sat on the red and black couch with the education minister. It was a close fit! The ceremony started with dancers, a drumline, and a fire eater. It was insane! It was a lovely scene. While the kids performed, the rest of the school sat on benches around the school watching them. There was a nice little breeze as we watched each performance. It was a great way to start the day! After the welcoming ceremony had ended, Joe and I took pictures with some of the performers. Me, being nervous, spilled my bottled water all over my shirt! I think I even got water all over my phone. I realized, later in the day, that I had a huge water stain on my shirt in my pictures! Typical me! After our pictures, we went to a conference room. There was food waiting for us and the tables were in a u-shape. A large group of teachers were waiting for us, to ask us questions about our schools and what we thought of their school so far. This was hard. First, eating in front of people is not my thing. Eating noodles is just asking for trouble! Secondly, this was our big moment. I wanted to speak as honestly as I could about our education system back home and what it's like to live in the United States. I also wanted to make a good impression on all of these teachers - especially the female teachers. Some of the first questions I was asked were: How old are you? Are you married? How much money do you make? Every time one of those type of questions was asked, Fida would always start off with, "I'm sorry but they want to know..." I didn't mind because they seemed curious. I was also very curious about each and every one of them. Once we got all of those questions out of the way, it was smooth sailing. We were asked about class sizes, uniforms, lessons, and what our school day looked like. It was just a regular conversation teachers have with other teachers. I couldn't help but notice that like most American schools, this school had more female teachers than male. They also seemed to have teachers of all ages just like we have at Whittier. One teacher asked what I thought when I first heard I was coming to Indonesia - then she ended her question with "It's okay, you can be honest." I was honest in my response. I told them I was impressed with what we saw that morning. Kids celebrating their culture. Kids who were proud of their identity. Students cheering each other on as they watched their friends perform. Students helping their teachers. A large number of students were helping the school get ready for our visit. Everyone was working together. It didn't seem like it was because of our visit. It was something they did every single day because they cared for one another. Then I told them about my fears. How were women treated? I wasn't sure what to expect and I was nervous. My family was nervous too. Being in Indonesia is nothing like I expected. There are no strangers here. Everyone has gone out of their way to make Joe and I feel welcome and like we are a part of their community. I thought we'd get some hostility because of the political climate back home - but, so far, nothing. Everyone is too busy with their own lives and families to worry about tweets. Our next trip was to the office. I couldn't even think about food or anything at first because I had to go to the restroom. I understood how the kids must feel at school. It's hard to think of anything else. This was my first real experience of using an Asian toilet and it was bad. I didn't realize going in that it was a different toilet so I didn't have time to mentally prepare myself. I had no idea what to do but tried to figure it out. When I came out, I had a distressed look on my face and I made a comment to Joe about it. Joe didn't understand my nerves at first but then we both realized he had no idea why I was making a big fuss. He had a western toilet! We had lunch in the principal's office. He wasn't away - dealing with the education minister - but we were able to sit on the couches in his office and talk some more with Fida and Fitri. After our long day at school, we headed home around 3:15pm. Fida gave us a couple of hours rest and then we hit the town for dinner. This became our regular schedule throughout the week. School, rest, then out and about. When we returned to Jakarta to meet the other TGC fellows and spoke to them about their experiences, I realized how lucky we were to have Fida as our sponsor. Some of the other fellows said they had "down time" or were on their own some evenings. At first, I was a little jealous of their freedom. But then I realized that because we spent so much time with Fida, her friends, and her community that our experience felt like longer than a week. Every meal was an event, a new experience, a chance to make a new friend. Every day, we we saw a different part of Bangkinang. Note: I sound a bit judgey in this one. Sorry about that. This hotel is something else. Not in a bad way, it’s more of a I like you and I hate you sort of way. First, I had a rough night. It was about 12:30 am and I woke up in a deep sweat. Like I was suffocating. When I opened my eyes, I realized that a light was on in my room. Let me be clear – I did not leave any lights on before I went to bed. I immediately started to panic when I realized the light was on. Panic told me someone was in my room or had been inside my room. Then I realized the air conditioners were not on either. I tried messing with my key in the wall and nothing worked. The electricity was off. I didn’t know what to do. I tried going back to sleep with that damn light on and I guess it worked for a bit. Maybe about thirty minutes of deep sweat later, the air conditioners turned back on. I don’t want to sound too spoiled about the AC. Just imagine a locked room with no windows. It’s basically a sweatbox without any air coming in. It gets hot really fast. After I went back to sleep, I woke up a few more times throughout the night. The mosque across the street was so busy. First, prayers all night long. Loud prayers. Then, when it was really early (4 am-ish), I looked outside. There were buses, families everything you could imagine. I had no idea what was going on but it was crazy. I half wished I was outside to take pictures of everyone. Fidalia later told us that today was a day when hundreds of people were travelling to Mecca. They were saying goodbye to their families and getting on buses for their long journey. She told us the total cost was about three million rupiah. I was kinda happy that all the noise and sweat had woken me up for me to see people leave for Mecca. After all that commotion, I decided to try the shower. It wasn’t as bad as I expected. There was no hot water (of course!) but the water wasn’t too cold. I painted my nails and watched tv some. I told Joe the night before that I would meet him downstairs at 7:30 for breakfast. I decided to go downstairs at 7am to use the wifi (which doesn’t work in our rooms). I probably should stay off WhatsAPP because it’s making me kind of mad to see everyone else’s posts about their cities. I know I am here for a reason. The faces I have seen have left an impression on me and I don’t want to be anywhere else. But reading about someone’s longing for a beer, or should I eat at this pizza place is kind of tiring. We don’t even have electricity, or soap! I guess we are all experiencing Indonesia in our own way. The area Joe and I are in seems like the most rural and conservative place out of all of our placements. The first thing we had planned for today was breakfast. It was wonderful. We had stir fried noodles (which reminded me of fideo), white rice, and boiled eggs. They also had the most amazing hot tea. After breakfast, we waited for Fidalia to come pick us up. When she arrived, she had her brother with her. He was coming with us. This surprised me. She didn’t say why and I felt bad for judging her. I immediately thought her family did not want her hanging around a man (Joe) who was not a relative so they had to keep an eye on her. I don’t know the real reason why her brother was there but I shouldn’t judge or generalize so much. Our first stop was to a soccer field. This was fun. Yesterday, Fidalia mentioned that her brother coached soccer and that he had practice the next morning. I asked her if we could go see just to see a soccer practice. She said of course. The kids were nice and reminded me of my students at Whittier. We took pictures and one picture was so, so perfect. I asked these boys sitting in the shade if I could get their picture. Then I noticed a grandma was sitting with them and she got up to get in the picture too! It was so great and unexpected! Fidalia’s dad also showed up at the practice. We got to meet him and thank him for letting Fidalia help us and study in the United States. After the practice, we drove to a man-made lake. It was used for hydro power in the past and now it’s used for scenic drives and fishing. This was a very pretty, picturesque place. It wasn’t like anything we have seen in Indonesia and that’s what made it special. We took some pictures overlooking the peak and enjoyed each other’s company. I saw these small umbrellas hanging from trees and it just looked so magical. I had to have a picture with them. After our stop, we drove maybe an hour to a site on UNESCO’s World Heritage List – Candi Muara Takus. Fidalia told me "candi" means "temple". This is a Buddhist temple Father Brockman wrote about in his book “Encyclopedia of Sacred Places”. I want to see as many of those places as I can. I started thinking about Father Brockman, studying abroad in London, and how much those four months changed my life. I don't think I'd be in Indonesia if it were not for that experience in London fifteen years ago. The temple was empty when we got there. A tour guide showed us around and told us how at first no one took responsibility for the temple – people just wanted to steal from it (like locals or the Dutch colonists). He repeated over and over that the locals have to take care of the site and speak up for it. He was very passionate about people saving parts of history. I liked him immediately. (I also liked him because when we first arrived, he tried to hide his can of Guinness before speaking to us. But, I saw it!) I never expected to be climbing so much here. We were climbing up and down rocks (no, not on the site!) and poor Joe had to help carry my camera or make sure I didn’t fall flat on my face. It was a little embarrassing. It got better though. As we were walking around, hearing tales about secret elephant meetings nearby, a group of Buddhists came and started setting up a little prayer vigil. It was really neat to see them. Then as we were watching the Buddhist ceremony a group of ladies were making so much noise near the temple. I never expected to see a group of fifteen or so older women – all wearing hijabs – laughing, playfully shoving each other, and joking around with each other. They were all wearing different hijabs. Some had rhinestones and looked very fancy. They all wore bright colors. I couldn’t stop watching them because they were being so loud. They were so very, very happy. After staring at them, I asked Fidalia if she could speak to them. I wanted a picture of them because this moment was making an impression on me. She asked and they immediately agreed. After I took the picture, she said, “They want you in the picture!” So all the ladies were pointing at me, and told me to sit in front. Then they all put their hands on my shoulders. We took some pictures and I told them thank you, thank you. When I stood up, we ended up taking more pictures. Fidalia told them I was from America. One of the ladies told me, “You send that picture to America!”
Muslim women in the United States have this image in the media as being quiet or subservient. None of those women were subservient. They were all confident and proud of their identity. I realized I was too afraid to speak to them myself and asked Fidalia to do it for me. I fell into that trap of believing stereotypes. I told the ladies I would send our picture to America and thanked them again. After our journey, and to our surprise, Fidalia said we were going to her house. She lives there with her brother and father. She had snacks ready for us and said we could relax. We were also dropping off her brother at the house. Fidalia talked about her mom a little and said she was a former teacher. She died when Fidalia was very young (about 18 years ago). Fidalia said she was very spoiled as a child and when her mom died, she didn’t know how to cook, clean, or do anything that her mom did around the house. Her aunt had to teach her. Fidalia has mentioned before that she would like to come back to the United States but then mentions being home. She also says that her father and brother can take care of themselves. This got me thinking about her. She has a master’s degree. She’s a high school teacher and part time administrator. She teaches at the local university. She works for the state department and IREX. And her worry is her father and brother and housework. Women have so many burdens yet, when you talk to them, they never show signs of weakness or anger. It's inspiring. After we left Fidalia’s house we picked up Fritri and went out to lunch to an American-esque café. There were a bunch of teen boys playing games on their phones. There were chickens running in and out of the restaurant. Then, it happened. Joe asked for hot tea and I decided to have some too. When we got, I took a sip and instantly smiled. It was SWEET hot tea! It was so perfect. I drank it all and imagined it was ice cold. We are still avoiding ice because we don’t want stomach bugs while we are on our trip. It’s a pain. Not having anything cold is turning into a thing. Sometimes, we find cold cokes. I told myself no more sodas and went over a year without any sodas. It wasn’t until this trip that I’ve had a few cokes. Four so far to be exact. I didn’t like what sodas were doing to me or how bloated they made me feel before. I hate to drink them now but there really is no other choice. I would do anything for a lemon-lime Gatorade at this point. I think I would even pay one million rupiah for one if that’s what it took. After lunch we stopped at a gas station and I picked up a cold coke and some apple juice. Fidalia told us she got us bread (!) and she said we could stop to get some jam or peanut butter for the bread. She is so considerate. She also gave us a bag of bottled waters. Every time we go in her car, she has water and straws waiting for us. She also insists on paying for meals and entry fees. We keep telling her no, to let us, but she insists. Today, she let us give her gas money since we went on such a long trip. I can’t help but think about what Dewi told us about teachers in Indonesia and how little they are paid. You would never know this by how Fidalia and Fritri dote on us. They are unbelievable. So far my favorite memory here is after we were at the market buying towels. We decided to eat a music place across the street. After we had drinks, we left but the street was so busy with motorcycles, people, and cars. We all held hands as crossed the street. It was so cute! We went back to the hotel and I checked WhatsAPP. Still complaining about stupid crap, I see. I tried to post some updates on Instagram and then went to my room to relax. At five, we drove to the oldest mosque here. It was a nice drive and the mosque was beautiful. We were not allowed in. I didn’t ask why. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the time or because of our faith. Whatever the case, it was beautiful. No nails were used to make the mosque and it was built in 1901! As we were walking around, we all noticed that a large crowd of kids was starting to form. Then their moms came too. They wanted pictures of Joe. It was so funny. Fidalia told them they had to practice their English before they could get pictures with us. It was so cute. They were scared but some of the kids knew words and phrases and got their picture. Those kids sure did love Joe. We walked to the river and the kids and moms followed us. We walked back to the car and they followed us again. It was a cute sight and I will always remember their excitement at saying words in English! I will also always remember being chased by three geese after I got too close taking their picture and how Fitri – in her beautiful Muslim dress – chased and screamed them off! Everyone starting laughing as they were chasing me and it was a funny moment. After the mosque, Fidalia said she wanted us to try her favorite meal. It was street food nearby. It looked like chicken noodle soup but a tastier version with chicken meatballs and fried tofu with ramen noodles and different spices. I ate all of it even the broth it was so good. I think IREX kinda advised against street food but how could we say no to her favorite meal? Again we tried to pay for this one but Fitri insisted she was going to take care of it. When we got back to the hotel, we said goodbye. We have an early day tomorrow. While I was downstairs I was able to FaceTime mom and my sweet Teddy Bear. When I hung up with them, the power to the entire hotel was out for over an hour. I decided I felt safer being in my locked room when it was dark than being in the lobby. I had to use my phone to walk back to the room and get situated. The room started to steam up and I started wearing less and less clothing. This is going to be a long week! p.s. Power is on. AC is on. Let’s pray it’s on when I’m sleeping. Please god! Goodnight. |
I flew 24 hours to write this. |