It's been awhile since I've blogged, the reason being that I've spent the better portion of the last five days trying to figure out how to accurately put my reflections on the past week into words. I've come to the conclusion that it is impossible, and that as more and more time slips by, I'll remember less and less, so bear with me as I attempt to explain what I've learned this week.
We returned to Salatiga on Friday, after spending eight days in our host communities. I have never in my life been more excited to see people I could communicate with. I spent over a week in almost complete silence- my own fault, for not making more valiant efforts to study Bahasa Indonesia prior to arrival- and when Pak Lilik, Rikki, and Jason arrived, I fairly threw myself at them, overjoyed at the opportunity to speak again!
Over the weekend, story after story emerged from the YALTers about their week. Everyone had vastly different experiences (one common one being "sekit perut"- "sick stomach", with stories of how this manifested itself varying from not-so-embarrassing to extremely embarrassing), but it was a relief to realize that everyone struggled at some point or another, and some much more than others.
Having been back in Salatiga for three days now, I've had a bit of an opportunity to step out of my experience in Semarang, and reflect upon it. The biggest realization that I have come to has led me to re-post the following link, to "The Danger of A Single Story."
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html
Much to my chagrin, I have come to the conclusion that I embarked on this journey with an incredibly narrow view of "service." When I signed up for SALT, I subconsciously stuck a comma in after the S. I knew that this was going to be a learning experience, both for myself, and for those I came to serve, but there's where my mistake was made. I am not the only one serving this year. The community that I am in is serving me too. This realization took me all week, and is one that I am still struggling with. I discovered upon arrival in my host home, that I would not be setting my photos up on a dirt floor, nor would I be sleeping on a mattress made of straw; Far from it. I wrestled all week with the confusion that struck me as soon as I was shown my room. It was- is- beautiful. I felt so undeserving of such a nice space, and downright guilty that I would dare call this experience one of service when all of the amenities I am blessed with at home- and then some- appeared before me in Indonesia.
I have learned that these feelings underscore the mentality of us in the Global North that we, with all our power, knowledge, and wealth, must be the ones who serve the Global South. They need us, we think, and it is our duty to help. I know now that such a mindset is wrong. Every country has needs, and every country is also blessed with abundance in some form or another. Everyone serves everyone. I wouldn't be here if an Indonesian family didn't open their doors and inconvenience themselves- for an entire year- so that I would have somewhere to stay. Sure, I don't need a home that is so nice, but my community has provided me with the best it could offer. Would we not do the same? I'm learning that there are no requirements to service. There are no rules that have to be followed. Service is giving your best to those around you, and it's also being willing to receive the best that others have to offer.
It's hard for me to explain exactly what has been going through my mind, so I'm sorry if what I've said doesn't make very much sense. I hope it does! I could go on for a long time about just how much God is doing to reshape my way of thinking (already, in the first few weeks!), but I'll give myself a bit more time to process and reflect (and give a bit of a break from the heavy stuff for you who are still reading!).
We moved to our language learning homes yesterday, and I was able to half unpack for the first time since leaving Canada! I eagerly removed all my clothes from my suitcase, set up all of my photos (the three I brought with me), and dove into the letters that people wrote me before leaving home. I went to bed last night with a huge smile on my face, thankful for the awesome family I've been placed with for these six weeks, and also for the support network that I have here in Indonesia as well as at home.
We had our first day of language training today! Pak Putut is a fantastic teacher who uses a very laid back, hands-on approach. It looks like my weekdays will run much like today did: I woke up at 6:30 (this morning, 3 year old Steven woke me up with a smile that would melt anyone's heart), and got my first opportunity to cook for myself here. Ibu Christine, my host mom, helped me make an omelette for brekkie, before I hopped on my bike (my ticket to independence here in Salatiga) and met Laura at the intersection at the bottom of Suicide Hill (the hill I live off of that is a treat to bike down, but a doozy to ride up). Together, we navigated our way across town (uphill most of the way, it seems) to the language school, where we met the rest of the YALTers. Language training runs from 8-10AM for the group of us. At 10, we are divided into two groups of 4 for more intensive study opportunity. Each group gets an additional two hours, from 10-12 or 12-2. We decided that each day, we would alternate who stays until 12, and who comes back after a two hour break for their remaining two hours. We got the two hour break today, so 4 of us headed off to explore Salatiga, stopping at the Post office and a food court for jus melon (the juice here is delicious!) and mie ayam. We returned at noon, and the four who had remained headed off. The two hours flew by. We just sat and chatted, with Pak Putut working really hard to keep us speaking in Bahasa Indonesia (it's just so easy to drift into the English realm!). When 2:00 rolled around, we biked back to the MCC Office, where we've been hanging out ever since. Our afternoons are free to do with what we want. Today we are going on a search for bread (a bit of a challenge to track down in this rice-obsessed country) and stationary, so that I can start sending letters home! Speaking of, I am more than a bit happy to receive mail, and I am thrilled to provide you with a mailing address:
Ellery Penner
C/O MCC Indonesia
Jl. Merbabu No. 3
Salatiga
50724
Indonesia
I have been told that the postal system is fairly reliable here, and that letters take between 1 and 3 weeks to arrive. It's easiest to send mail to MCC because I have a mailbox here, and between trips I take to Salatiga, and trips that MCC workers take to Semarang, I should be able to get my letters shortly after they arrive here at MCC. (And I'm in the office every day for the next 6 weeks, so I can get mail myself! No pressure though!).
One of these days, the pictures I have promised will be posted! I am STILL on someone else's computer, but I PROMISE I will get some up this week. That is a promise!!
Have a great day, everyone! Good luck to all of you who are starting back with school! I'm thinking of you (especially Austin and Justine)!
Love,
Ellery
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