I realize that it has been quite some time since I have been back to Indonesia, but my experiences in the country will forever hold a place in my heart. Sometimes, when I see old photos of my time in the village, I can remember the smells and the bright colours, along with all the smiling faces of children in their uniforms off to school. The memory of being surrounded by children is usually the first one to come to mind. Why, might you ask? My host family lived only a few houses down from an elementary school. It just so happened that our house was the place where the kids ditched their bikes while they were in class. I think this was a strategic allowance based on the fact that my host family had a store on the property, making it a convenient location for the kids to grab a treat for the trip home. There must have been close to 200 bikes in our yard 5 days a week. The village was 45mins north of Kisaran in the province of Sumatera Utera (North Sumatra). I would say the village had a population of one thousand, but I have never been certain about this. The way the villages are set up is a little confusing and I still do not, to this day, have a great grasp of their organization. The roads were all dirt and travel was done primarily by bicycle. I think there were only a few cars in the village. I happened to be seeing an Indonesian woman (another participant of the Canada World Youth program) and I would ride to her house almost everyday - I believe that was a 3-4km journey through these incredible jungle trails, accomplished by a truly vintage bicycle and a tiny flashlight, if it was dark...
I remember arriving at the village - everything was such a shock to me. I wasn't in Kansas anymore (mind you I've never been to Kansas, but you get the point). The heat was tremendous and I didn't know a lick of Bahasa Indonesia (Official 'Indonesian language'). To top it off, our host families knew about as much english as I did Indonesian... The dictionary was my bible. There was no furniture. I would spend most of the first month in the house at night getting to know my new family. I was welcomed by four girls aged 10-25 and a young man, along with my Hibu and Bapa (Mom and Dad) on a property with 2 small houses (one being a small store). Because of the noticeable roles that constituted gender, I lived quite luxuriously: my bed and laundry were taken care of by my 'sisters' and food was prepared for me daily. They would cook outside, using fire and a cast iron pan. It was usually fried rice. My host family did have agriculture land a short bike ride away. I would help my host father plant different vegetables and legumes and harvest coconuts once or twice a week. There was rarely any meat to be had, only on special occasions. I rarely had an alcoholic drink, but, again, on special occasions my host family would provide me with a little Tuah. Tuah was a drink that tasted foul in a variety of ways, but I came to realize it was just fermented coconut juice... imagine it, if you will. The 'Tuah Man' would come around on his bike every few weeks and collect the coconut juice that was held up in the trees, just sitting there... waiting... waiting to be 'enjoyed.'
My work did not stop at helping my family on their agricultural land. As a group - which consisted of 10 Canadian youth, 10 Indonesian youth, and 2 project supervisors (1 Canadian, 1 Indonesian) - we had a budget of a few thousand dollars that we were to put toward community development projects. Each project was discussed amongst us and the community. We rebuilt the elementary school, built a library, cleaned out the trenches on the sides of the main road to enable better drainage, built at step-up dock to enable the women of the village to wash their laundry in the river, no matter if it was the wet or dry season, as well as organized a plot of agriculture land to provide for the operating costs of a day-care we established. Each day we were either collaborating ideas and/or muscles with community members, or working at one of our work placements. My work placements were teaching at the primary school, 'supervising' at a kindergarten school in the larger, adjacent village, and, of course, making/cooking bricks. I loved them all. I felt I learned a lot about myself and the people of the village. It was nice to get dirty and work together to achieve goals that were not only set up by our group, but that reflected the wants and needs of the community.
I think one of the most significant outcomes of this experience was learning about a religion I was not very familiar with: Islam. I often would look at Islamic customs and question why I didn't grow up with anything as such. I don't think I knew whether it was a good or bad thing, or even if I should ask myself such a question. I suppose I went into the CWY program basically oblivious to world religions, and during and after the 8 month program I was very interested to learn as much as I could; I think the entire program has worked in this way for me. I came home with a thirst for knowledge and a wide open mind. I felt like a new person, capable of anything. It was empowering.
I could write about my experience forever, it seems. I still remember it like it was yesterday... It is difficult for me to understand it's been nearly 10 years.
My next blog will be about my time coming back to the village and traveling throughout S.E Asia as a backpacker.
-Jayden Riley
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