cheating...

I must preface this by saying that the students at my school have been the best part of my PC experience. That being said, I am absolutely appalled by the amount and variety of cheating that takes place during semester exams. It’s an absolute relief that testing is over. I know this isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned cheating in the schools, and it most likely will not be the last, but each day I proctored exams I left completely dumbfounded and with a spinning head. There was always this horrible feeling in my gut, trying to wrap my head around why something so taboo in American schools is so routine here. Part of it’s cultural, but teachers and students both admit that it’s immoral. The vice principal asked me for the ‘solution to the cheating problem’ and all I could think of was “have some sort of punishment for cheating” or “have the teachers actually monitor the exams instead of playing on their laptops and standing outside their rooms chatting” or simply “try to motivate the students to take pride in doing their own work.”

Here’s a brief description of the testing set-up:
• Each room has a combination of students from different grades, who alternate seats in order to hinder cheating (it does absolutely nothing to deter them from doing so)
• Between 2-3 subjects tested each day
• Each test is 90 minutes, separated by a 15 minute break
• There are 30 multiple choice questions and 5 short answer/essay questions
• The students are handed an answer sheet similar to a scantron, and a separate question sheet
• One teacher for every 35 students

At first I thought the students cheated because the exams were too difficult, that maybe there were just too many subjects. I even felt sorry for them to an extent. But after several casual inquiries I found out it’s because a majority of the students simply just don’t study. So my new mission for this upcoming semester is figuring out how to motivate students to study on their own and ‘take pride in doing their own work’- not because a teacher will punish them if they don’t, but because they should get some type of gratification from accomplishing something based on their own hard work. A good life lesson.

I will now end this note with a list of the Top 20 ways (in no particular order) I caught students cheating in just the 3 days that I proctored exams, each of varying degrees of creativity and covertness. And none of which seemed punishable.

1. Directly asking the person next to him/her for the answer
2. Or the person behind him/her
3. Or in front of him/her
4. Or across the room
5. Getting the answer keys from a parent who is a teacher at the school
6. Writing answers on one’s shoe
7. Writing the answers on one’s veil/jilbab
8. Writing the answers on a compact mirror, then constantly checking one’s appearance in said mirror during the exam
9. Writing the answers on the desk the day before the exam
10. Writing all the answers on the back of the test and sliding it over so one’s neighbor can see the list
11. Writing answers on erasers, whiteout, pencil sharpeners, etc, then letting one’s friend borrow the aforementioned object(s)
12. Sliding one’s answer sheet over so one’s neighbor can read it more easily
13. Holding the test in front of one’s face (pretending to read it intently) in order to cover one’s mouth when sharing answers
14. Texting/using cell phones
15. Directly exchanging question sheets with the answers circled
16. Exchanging answer sheets so another student can write the essay answer
17. Using one’s hands to show the number of the question and letter of the answer
18. Having one’s workbook open on the desk
19. Having a friend who’s already finished the exam walk by outside and share answers through the back windows
20. Filling out an answer sheet before the test and switching it with the blank one given by the teacher

islamic new year and jalan santai

This past Tuesday marked the transition into a new year for Muslims around the world. Happy 1432! In my village that meant no school...and a parade featuring marching bands from the Islamic schools in the area, a group of approximately 50 ten-year old boys who would be circumcised the following day, and members of the local transgendered community in full traditional Javanese drag. The latter completely caught me off guard, but Bu S has promised one of our Sunday morning bike rides to further explore this seemingly paradoxical scenario seeing as how I live in an tremendously conservative community.

Prior to the parade Bu S and I had been offered an invitation to one of her former students’ homes in order to learn how to make klempon, a traditional Javanese snack. Since I’m not really allowed to cook at my homestay, I jumped on the opportunity to get messy in the kitchen and learn about local cuisine.

Part of the Indonesian English curriculum is teaching ‘Procedural Text’. So in tribute to this semester coming to a close, I thought I’d honor those teachings with a photo documentary presented in Procedural Text format.

Klempon:

1. Press the grains of green rice then sift into a fine powder.

2. Preheat the wood fire stove in preparation to boil water.

3. Knead the green rice, flour, sugar, green food coloring, salt, and coconut milk into dough-like consistency.

4. Grind the Javanese sugar into a softer, more moldable mound.

5. Take a clump of dough approximately the size of a teaspoon, roll into a ball, and flatten in the palm of your hand.

6. Take a pea-sized portion of Javanese sugar and place it in the center of your green dough. Fold the dough over, enclosing the sugar and sealing it in the center, again in ball form.

7. Once you have finished with all of the dough, place the balls in boiling water. Transfer into cooler water.

8. Remove balls and place them on a ‘cooling rack’.

9. Roll in shredded coconut.

10. Box up for your friends and enjoy!

I know it’s kind of vague, and this is probably the closest I’ll get to holiday baking, but I still enjoyed every minute of it…despite the occasional difficulties (i.e. uneven sized balls, sugar centers being exposed prematurely, green dye being splashed about). But most importantly, the end product was quite delicious, and I spent the morning with a wonderful family. A family who does this every day- without fail- in order to keep food on the table.

That house and family were more of how I pictured my PC experience. Being involved in traditional cooking, using a wood fire stove, sitting around laughing rather than silent in front of a TV, meeting the neighbors and feeling immediately like a part of the community. At least I am fortunate enough to experience days like this when I go on weekly adventures with Bu S.

Semester exams were postponed the following day so that the teachers could participate in Jalan Santai. That morning I met my fellow teachers at the school so we could carpool to Mojokerto. Low and behold, a brand new sports uniform was waiting for me! The importance of this may be difficult to communicate with mere words, but I’m undoubtedly still going to try. Sports uniforms in Indonesia are not only unflattering, long sleeved, and made of material that doesn’t breathe, but they always come in the most vibrant colors- neon green or orange, bright pink, etc. Most of the other volunteers already have their school’s sports uniform, and I’ve fancied one of these coveted treasures since the first day I started teaching. Looks like the new year brought me luck: mustard yellow top, black pants with bright yellow racing stripes, and everything trimmed in red. When we walked together, we kind of resembled the German flag.

This particular Jalan Santai is a once-a-year walking event where all of the Islamic schools in Mojokerto are represented…each in their own, unique, pulsating sports clothes. It was great! It was really nice to spend time with the teachers outside of school. Afterwards I went ‘out to lunch’ and shopping with some of the teachers…still in our mustard uniforms. It was nice to be reminded that I’m a normal person capable of having a regular social life. But today it’s back to school and the start of exams. Good luck to all of the students at MAN!

idul adha, mini hajj and thanksgiving

Some interesting things have happened over the past few weeks, so I’ll try my best to remember and summarize the most important as best as possible.

On the 17th most of Indonesia celebrated Idul Adha, the second largest Muslim holiday after Idul Fitri (the end of the fasting month of Ramadhan). This meant that instead of class, everyone gathered at the school (amazingly all of the teachers/students were not only on time, but early and ready by 6 am!) for a special prayer. I embarrassedly strolled in at 5:50 while everyone watched the unveiled teacher make my way back to the group of women who couldn’t participate in prayer because they were menstruating. I am teased on a daily basis for my promptness, so I was shocked by everyone else’s punctuality on this sole occasion. Since I don’t pray, I took this opportunity to observe the masses of students and faculty simultaneously going through the prayer motions- a wave of white. It was an amazing sight; beautiful in a very spiritual way. One of the male teachers led prayer, which to me sounds like singing in Arabic. It’s definitely different than the preachy tone of Catholic mass that I grew up with. All of the women were dressed in their prayer robes and were-as religion dictates- clustered behind the men who wore sarongs and their kopia or traditional Islamic hats. After observing prayer and meeting countless returned alumni, I joined the teachers in the office to eat (because food is central to Javanese culture, and there is always some excuse to devour large amounts of it) before heading to the back field for Part II: Cow Sacrifice.

I wasn’t sure I could stomach watching the same cows that I had walked by earlier that same morning be slaughtered in public. But seeing as how I’m trying to participate in every new cultural experience, I opted to walk over with another teacher and stand in the back. Luckily I missed the execution of the first cow, and only had to bare witness to the second killing. More than enough cow blood for me for a lifetime. I think I’ll be skipping next year’s viewing. Then members of OSIS (a type of student council) as well as some of the male faculty proceeded to skin it, chop off the head and put it in a bag, cut off the limbs, take out the intestines (have you ever seen a cow’s stomach? It’s huge! And the smell when they were cleaning it out made everyone gag for meters), and carry the smaller parts into an empty classroom to be portioned and packaged for the poor. Although I had offers to be more hands-on, I politely declined and watched from afar. That was enough involvement for me for my first ever sacrifice.

To rewind a few thousand years, a bit of background info about this most important day. Please be warned, this is based on my not-so-great translation skills, a little help from Wikipedia, and my less than stellar knowledge about biblical times, so please excuse my ignorance in trying to explain this. Here it goes, in very abbreviated form: Muslims celebrate Idul Adha as a commemoration of when God (Allah) asked Abraham to sacrifice his only son as a sign of devotion. With honest intentions, both Abraham and Ishmael prepared for the sacrifice. But before the deed could be carried out, God intervened, commanding that Ishmael be replaced by a ram. So, once a year Muslims commemorate this act of faithfulness by sacrificing cows, goats, sheep, camels, etc (only animals approved by Sharia law). There are various rules about how the animal should be sacrificed and certain criteria that the animal and the person sacrificing must meet. But I, unfortunately, will not be the one to enlighten you with all of those details.

There was no class again the following day. Instead the school was set up as a miniature Mecca, and all of the grade 10 students dressed as if they were going on their holy pilgrimage (one of the five pillars of Islam). The students pretended to take different group flights into Saudi Arabia, and went through all of the motions of an actual hajj or pilgrimage. They said the special prayers, walked the loop several times (I think 7), collected and threw stones at various pillars to symbolize chasing Satan away, and they had even built a mini version kaaba, the place where Muslims go to strengthen their faith. It was yet another surreal experience in my time here; the boys walking around in their Islamic togas and 300 students and teachers dressed from head to toe in white chanting in Arabic and showing their devotion to God.

Although wonderful to share in, all of these surreal cultural experiences unfortunately cut into class time, and semester exams are next week. I’m frustrated because I didn’t get to help write/edit the English exam, and when I stole a peak at it, it was riddled with grammatical mistakes and irrelevant, impossible texts. No wonder the students feel the need to constantly cheat on exams! Why wouldn’t you have the ‘native speaker’ look over the test before printing and distributing it to 17 other schools?!? I realize that the Indonesian teachers understand the curriculum better, but some of the mistakes that I saw were imperative to the students’ comprehension. With all of the frustrations, disappointments, confusing moments, and days I wanted to fly straight home to Colorado over the last few months, I’ve learned a lot and am looking forward to a new year and a new semester. I better understand the significance of having a 2-year commitment in Peace Corps; it takes a long time to figure everything out, and 8 months in, I’m still perplexed most days. I feel that 2011 will be infinitely better. I have new ideas, a better understanding of how things work both as a teacher and with the Indonesian system, and a more optimistic attitude about this whole experience.

One final note: it doesn’t feel like the holidays. I wish there was snow and 24-hour Christmas music. Mom’s baked treats and real pine trees. Menorahs and latkes. Midnight sledding and snowball fights. Hot chocolate and the chaos of buying and wrapping the perfect present for those you love. Here, it’s just another day, another month. We celebrated Thanksgiving on Saturday at the Consulate’s home, but it’s just not the same when you’re not with family. So, I wish everyone back home Happy Holidays and don’t forget to take time to appreciate the time you do have with family, as crazy as it may feel sometimes.

Lots of Love from Indo!

The Women Praying on Idul Adha

The Women behind the Men at Prayer

The Skinned Cow

Dividing the Meat for the Poor

Students Walking Around the Mini Kaaba

Collecting Stones to Throw at the Pillars

English Club Hand Turkeys for Thanksgiving

He Said He's Proud of Us!

The Backdrop for our Photo with President Obama

The last 72 hours have flown by and now it feels like it was all a dream. I’ve been in 3 different major cities; taken planes, taxis, buses, private cars and pedicabs; I’ve spoken to more important people than I’ll probably ever meet again the rest of my life; and the President of the United States shook my hand and said he was proud of me face-to-face. It was a good trip.

And today I’m back teaching (my co teacher MIA again) at school, where my students and colleagues think that every American has had a personal meeting with Mr. Obama, so no big deal. It definitely brought me back to reality. But for just a few more sentences, I’d like to revel in one of the most amazing moments of my young life.

POTUS and his wife FLOTUS (gotta love those acronyms) were in the capital city of Jakarta for less than 20 hours. This comes after two major trip postponements since March and a plan to shorten this Indonesia trip from 3 days down to one. A lot of people at the embassy put in countless hours of hard work in order to ensure that Peace Corps had the opportunity to meet one of the Obamas. The volunteers found out a week before that we’d have the opportunity to meet Michelle, which all of us were absolutely stoked about. So we packed our best batiks and headed to Jakarta where we stayed in the same hotel that we had stayed in back in March. It was crazy to reflect on everything we’ve experienced and accomplished over the last 8 months; how far we’ve come.

Once we arrived in Jakarta and had a quick bite to eat, we got ready to have a short meeting with our country director followed by a presentation on how to balance learner-centered teaching and sticking to the curriculum. Then we headed to the hotel rooftop with the beautiful Jakarta skyline as the backdrop, and met with various Returned Peace Corps Volunteers, embassy staff and important Indonesian officials. After a delicious rooftop dinner we headed inside for the embassy briefing on what we should expect the following morning. That’s where we met Robb, who is pretty much the most amazing person on the planet. He ran through the events for the next morning and answered all of our ridiculous questions like whether or not it would be appropriate to fist bump the First Lady (clearly not my question). Before bed, most of us watched the State Dinner on CNN where Obama and SBY (the Indonesian president) exchanged inspirational words. Needless to say, that night we all went to sleep with anxious hearts and minds, excited for what was in store for us the next day.

Even though the President wasn’t speaking until 9 that morning, we were all dressed (including our special PC ID badges), fed, checked-out and on the embassy bus by 5:30, headed to the University of Indonesia. I was lucky enough to sit next to Robb on the ride over and hear the story of how he ended up with this job. Talking with him made me reconsider my past ambition of working for the State Department…traveling to a new country every two years, constantly meeting new people, and excellent benefits wouldn’t be the worst job ever, right?

Once we got to the campus we were ushered past the line to get in, went through an intimidating security check, and led through the auditorium to a special tent just for the 18 volunteers, our Country Director and Robb. Wow. We had a couple of hours to kill before the Obamas arrived, so we shared fun facts about each of our respective states and talked about how surreal this all felt. White House staff arranged how we would stand and kept saying “when they arrive we’ll have one stand on each side.” Of course our ears perked up when we heard this information, because we had only been expecting to meet Mrs. Obama. We stood in photo formation, excitedly waiting, when we found out that there would only be one person meeting us. So we continued to guess what color Michelle would be wearing and who she would stand in between. I felt like I was 4 years old waiting to meet the real Santa Claus.

The flaps to the tent opened, and all of our jaws dropped. In walked Mr. Barack Obama himself, wearing his charismatic smile and complimenting how great we all looked wearing our batik. The rest was a 15 minute dreamlike blur. But this is what I do remember: I was the first person he walked up to, shook hands with, asked name and hometown to, and said ‘nice to see you here Maggie”; he called Luke a ‘homeboy’ because they both lived in Chicago for a few years; he threw up the shaka (hang ten) for Sarah because they were both born in Hawaii; he said he was proud of all of us for the work we were doing, asked about our experiences so far, inquired about the fluency of our Bahasa Indonesia, and mentioned the option of working for the State Department in the future. The whole time I felt like a little, star-struck kid. He was so personable and willing to spend time with us. I know a large part of his time with us was just for the photo op in order to promote a positive relationship between America and a growing economic power/Muslim nation, but it was still a once-in-a-lifetime experience that will forever be one of the highlights of my time here in Indonesia.

Then we were escorted through a hidden back door to our seats to watch him speak. The way the lighting was set up didn’t really allow for great photos (sorry), but it was amazing to hear him speak in person about the partnership between 2 countries that I’ve now fallen in love with. Listening to him speak made me feel like I was a part of something bigger. I’m not just an English teacher. I’m an ambassador between the two nations, helping bridge the culture gap in order promote a more peaceful world. I guarantee that at least half of the people who read that last sentence will laugh and roll their eyes, but that’s my ideal perception of what my role in Indonesia is, and I know that I am making a difference even though it may be on a minute scale.

So that was my trip to Jakarta. And in other random news:

1. I am an insanely safe distance away from any earthquakes, active volcanoes or tsunamis that may have been in the news recently

2. My host sister was in a motorcycle accident where she broke her elbow. She’s home from the hospital now and doing much better, but it was still a huge scare for all of us, so please keep her in your thoughts.

3. Next week we’ll be slaughtering two cows at our school in order to celebrate Iedul Adha, the second most important Islamic holiday. I haven’t decided whether or not I’ll participate yet. I don’t really want to see anyone kill a live cow, but at the same time I would like to take part in this important part of the culture.

4. We had our second English Camp for kids this last Sunday and it was another huge success :)

*Also, my thoughts are with the Merrill-Brown family right now. All of my love.*

English Club Rocks my Socks

Ninuk, Ika and Putri: 3 of the All-Stars

The English Club Introducing Themselves

Learning Introductions

Some of the Kids

English Club!!

Last Sunday’s English activity for the children in the village was a huge success!! My English Club (EC) students from MAN totally stepped up and were absolutely, 100%, incredibly amazing!
But to rewind momentarily, a bit of background info about this first, official, secondary project. It started as a small idea, a quick question to Bu S., my RT, about possibly starting an English camp for the kids in my village. I got the idea after some of the women in my local Ibu-Ibu PKK (a neighborhood women’s group) suggested that I leave my current school and teach at their kids’ elementary schools instead. Since that wasn’t really an option, I thought about what other ways I could help out with English education for the younger kids. I read some of the PC books and came across an idea of pairing older students in the community with younger, orphaned kids as a kind of Big Brothers Big Sisters program. Which led to the idea of having my EC students lead an English camp for the kids in my village (since, as far as I know, there isn’t a large orphan population). Bu S. was immediately on board and she spoke with the village head who was equally enthusiastic, so we decided to outline some of the details. In my head, I was imagining a day-long English camp, with maybe 30 kids who would show up, and where each English Club student would be in charge of a different station, i.e. animal station, counting station, etc. In Bu S.’s mind, we would meet every week for a shorter amount of time. So we settled on meeting for an hour-and-a-half one Sunday each month, and if it was successful, maybe we could do it more frequently. Some of the Islamic schools have class on Sunday during the day (Friday is their holy day off), so we decided to have the English camp in the evening,
It took a bit of convincing with my counterpart to involve EC as much as I wanted. I know there’s still a long way to go to having the students have more control of the planning and running the activities, but my kids in English Club are amazing. They brainstormed ideas about what types of activities to do with children, what material would be appropriate, and helped cut out over 300 nametags. They were hesitant to accept a lead teaching role at first (I was terrified my first day in front of a classroom, so I totally understand) but when I stressed how important it is for the younger kids to have positive role models, how teaching something you’re studying is a great way to solidify the knowledge you already know, and how this is great practice for those of them who aspire to become teachers in the future (probably about 80% of them want to go into teaching), they all jumped on board and were eager to participate.
After Bu S. and I combined our efforts to write an official proposal which we submitted to the village head, we made registration forms and flyers, went around to the elementary schools in my village, and door to door to some of our neighbors to share the information. We limited registration to ages 7-12 or grades 1-6, and it was only for the children in our immediate village. There was instantaneously a lot of enthusiasm surrounding the idea, and by the night before English Day (IF ANYONE HAS A MORE CREATIVE NAME FOR THESE ENGLISH DAY ACTIVITIES, PLEASE SHARE) close to 100 kids had registered. We divided the kids into 3 groups based on grade, each of which would be led by an adult (Bu S., my counterpart Bu E. or myself- all English teachers) and the English Club students would walk around and help. I wouldn’t really consider myself a “kid person” but I thought I could handle 30 of them for less than 2 hours.
DAY OF: Close to 170 kids showed up, over 60 of which were in my age group, and I started to have a minor anxiety. So many children in what turned into a small space, with all of their parents standing around to watch. But my English Club kids totally stepped up. I encouraged them to help with the registration and attendance process. We divided the 3 large groups into smaller clusters on the spot, and had EC lead the kids in pairs or alone. The younger kids were thrilled! The EC students could communicate better in the local language AND were way more active and enthusiastic than any of the adults. After the youngsters left, during our debrief and candy session, the EC students expressed a lot of eagerness to do this again, and have more responsibility. They were such rock stars, and I know that they they’ll be the ones who make this program into something really great and sustainable. I’m so proud of them!
A few of the troubles we faced:
• There were a lot of upset people who thought that younger/older kids should be included
• A ton of people wanted us to include other villages in our town, but due to limited space and resources, we couldn’t accommodate those requests
But overall it was a huge success, everyone had a blast, and I'm sure the next meeting will be even better!

#14 october 7,2010

I’ve gotten a lot of positive comments from friends and family who have read this blog, so thanks to everyone back home for your continued support!
This past Sunday Bu S. took me and my host bro Pam, on our weekly bike ride, to a rice refinery. In Indonesian, there are several words for rice: padi, if it’s still in the field; beras, after it’s been dried and husked, but before it’s cooked; and nasi, after it’s cooked- the rice we eat. I know there are others, but I can’t remember at the moment. When she was a child, Bu S. used to go there with her father. She would play- climbing the massive mounds of packaged rice, or racing up and down the isles between the rice piles lying out to dry in the hot Indonesian sun- while her father would work at the refinery, usually 12-hour days. He wanted to stress to her and her siblings the importance of getting a good education so that she wouldn’t be forced to work 12-hours days for low wages like him. Just one of the many stories that factor into why she’s such a remarkable woman. We not only saw all of the machinery and methods used to process the rice, but were able to trek out to the peanut/corn/soybean fields (they alternate crops in order to help sustain the mineral levels in the soil, I think). We dug for our own peanuts, and then took them back to roast them in a fire for a tasty morning snack.
Later that afternoon after English Club, Bu S, her 9-year old niece, my counterpart Bu Eni, and myself, all went to check out some of the local history of the area. Apparently it was the center of the great empire (not sure if that’s by international, Indonesian, or Javanese standards) Majapahit which was discovered and excavated in the 1920s by the Dutch, the then colonial power. Maja is the name of a green fruit with white pulp and is about the size of a large grapefruit, and pahit means bitter. The kingdom was named after the limitless maja trees that are found in the area. We stopped by the resident museum to read up on the history before heading out to the graves and temples nearby. A museum guide cracked open a maja and offered us a taste. I definitely understand why bitter is the adjective used to describe this fruit! The taste is appalling! And afterwards the guide explained the myth that if you eat too much of the fruit, you’ll die. Would have been nice to hear that story before I ingested such a big bite. Then for lunch we tried a local favorite, wader: tiny fried fish about the size of fish bait. Eyeballs, tails, bones, and all. Tastes just like you might imagine. Fishy. It wasn’t my favorite meal thus far in Indonesia, but I’m glad I was brave enough to try it.
The only ruins that we had time (and energy) to see were those of Candi Tikus or Rat Temple. The story goes that before the temple was discovered, the farmers in that area had a major mouse problem when trying to harvest their crops. They decided to dig up the fields in order to destroy the mouse nests, and discovered an ancient temple instead. It’s believed to have been used as a fancy bathing area for the female nobility during the time of the empire.
In other Mojosari news, we’ve been really busy prepping for the first English Camp this Sunday. Over 60 kids have registered already, and we’re definitely expecting a lot more to show up the day of. I had no idea that so many people would be interested when I casually mentioned the idea about a month ago. But it’s exciting to know that there’s so much encouragement for an educational program for children in the area. I feel the pressure, but have a good feeling about the success and sustainability of the project.
On Saturday a former Peace Corps Volunteer from Africa (who now lectures at a university in Malang) along with 2 Fulbright scholars who lecture at UMM, want to come see my school and meet my students. My school is excited because this visit will contribute to their image as a hopeful international school, and I’m excited to talk to a former PCV. I’m sure she’ll be really impressed by the fingerprint scanner that was recently installed in the administration office in order to check the teachers’ attendance… I feel more like James Bond than a Peace Corps Volunteer every time I scan my thumb.
And starting Monday I’ll be in Surabaya for two weeks of intensive training with Peace Corps. I’m eager to see everyone again and receive the teacher training that was lacking during our Pre-Service Training. And daily hot showers will be a nice treat too.
I think that’s about it for now. I have excellent intentions of trying to keep this blog updated regularly. No promises though…

#13 Sept. 29, 2010

Wayang Cici- Chinese Puppet Show

Takbiran

Cleaning our Goat Intestines in the River

Washing Clothes

Tokek

Things have been wildly busy over the past few weeks (minus a relaxing few days in Bali with my fellow PCVs, and no internet). I think my last entry was around Indonesia’s Independence Day which means that it’s been over a month since I’ve written. Sorry.

Since the school day during Ramadan was dramatically shorter than usual, I spent a lot of time working on creative activities for my students (my favorite being Scrabble sets made out of recycled cardboard, using the Sharpies Mom sent out, even though most of the teachers thought they were ugly) and getting to know my community a bit better. My homestay situation is less than ideal at the moment, so I try to spend as much time out of my ‘home’ as possible, which has definitely had its rewards. Every Sunday morning I go on a bicycle ride before English Club with Bu Sari, my RT or head of neighborhood. She’s the English teacher that befriended me awhile back and she’s been super supportive and gracious ever since. Each Sunday she takes me somewhere where there’s someone with a ‘unique occupation’.

The outskirts of Mojosari are much more rural and the terraced rice paddies at sunrise are absolutely breathtaking. Since I haven’t been able to run here, these morning bike rides have been my new way of exploring my surroundings while simultaneously clearing my mind. The first weekend Bu S. took me to a home in a neighboring village where there’s a man who catches these white lizards, tokek, (maybe geckos? I’ve never been good at classifying different species of reptiles) in order to use their blood (I think, maybe venom…if lizards have venom) for some type of HIV medication which is exported to neighboring Asian countries for hundreds of dollars an ounce. Apparently it’s a really difficult and dangerous job because the lizards bite and one must climb unstable bamboo? trees…some of the details may have been lost in translation. A different weekend she took me to meet a woman who specializes in helping women get pregnant…via massage. Newlywed women who are having difficulty conceiving come to this woman for a special back massage followed by drinking Jamu (a local Javanese health drink, which, in my humble opinion, tastes awful!) While we were there I watched someone clean the intestines of a recently-slaughtered goat in a nearby stream, which surprisingly didn’t make me queasy like I had anticipated. In the village there was also a small enclosed freshwater spring where women wash their daily laundry while their half-naked children swim. Being in these more rural areas is more of how I pictured my Peace Corps life. It seems like the people in these smaller villages are much more community oriented. My host bro always accompanies us, and this is usually the only time that he’s 100% pleasant to be around: he’s polite, respectful, and light-hearted. Outside of those bike rides he lies, is demanding, angry, likes to set things on fire, and occasionally throws in a death threat when I’m wearing my Arema (soccer team from Malang) t-shirt because it’s the rival team of where we live now.

The end of Ramadan was astoundingly uneventful considering Idul Fitri (the last day of the Islamic month) is the most important Muslim holiday. We went to all the neighbors to ‘ask forgiveness for those faults we have knowingly and unknowingly committed’ as well as every member of the extended families, all 950 students at my school, the teaching staff…and anyone else we seemed to run into. I did enjoy watching takbiran where all of the village children walk through the neighborhoods carrying colored torches and singing about Allah the Great.

And then it was off to Bali for a mini PC reunion! 16 of the 18 of us met near Kuta for 4 days. We stayed at the Bungalows, an amazing, low key, relatively remote place near a quiet beach. One of the most wonderful places I’ve ever stayed! An outdoor shower, oil lamps at night instead of using electricity, surrounded by beautiful flora and a 3 minute walk to the beach. The waves were a bit rough at times, but it was absolutely incredible to sit on the beach in shorts and a tank top, enjoying a cold beer and western food, while sharing stories with friends in English. We went into the city one night for dancing and Mexican food. I felt like a normal person again! I felt refreshed and ready to come back and conquer the remainder of my time here.

Teaching is getting easier and I’ve started establishing more of a routine. I spend more time with friends outside of my house. The other night I went with Mas A. to watch wayang cici (traditional Chinese puppets) at a Buddhist place of worship. There weren’t very many people there, so the leader invited us up to see the behind-the-scenes action. It was really cool to meet another segment of the Mojosari population and learn about Buddhist as well as Chinese culture. Last weekend I also went back to Malang to visit my original host family. It was so wonderful to see everyone and I felt like I was returning home. Eni is like a sister, Ibu like a mother, Mas Teguh a good friend, and all of the girls like nieces. My neighbors were ecstatic to see me and were wildly impressed at how improved my Bahasa Indonesia is. I wish I could have stayed longer, but as I mentioned before, time doesn’t really permit at the moment.

Right now I’m working on creating an English day camp once a month for the school-aged children in my immediate village. I have a lot of support from my RT and Village Head. My English Club students will help administer the activities. I have big hopes for establishing this as a sustainable secondary project. I’m super excited about its potential for success, but equally nervous about the potential of failure. We just passed out announcements and registration forms for the first meeting which will be on Sunday October 10.

My school is under construction at the moment which has proven challenging for teaching: four classes in one room, separated by cubicle barriers. 150 kids, four different teachers, four different subjects, all at the same time. It’s absolute chaos. But supposedly it’s “only” for 2 months. The other day BAPPENAS (the Ministry of National Development Planning), members of the national and provincial Ministries of Religious Affairs, as well as various Peace Corps staff (10 significantly important persons in total) came to observe and meet me as well as 3 other volunteers. I was tremendously nervous to teach in front of them, but my students and counterpart were amazing- I couldn’t have paid them to be more enthusiastic and participatory! They made me look like a better teacher than I actually am. I think I helped make a good first impression of what Peace Corps represents and after talking with all of them I was reminded of why I wanted to join Peace Corps in the first place. My energy has been rejuvenated.

That’s been the last month in a nutshell. Super busy, but I’m starting to see positive results from my time here, both in me growing as a person as well as the impact I’m having on my school and my community. There are tough days, but the good days are starting to drastically outnumber those that I have to fight through.

Pictures to Accompany the Last 6 Months

Hidden mosque in Yogyakarta

Swearing-In Ceremony

Harvesting rice

Dressing up in traditional Javanese clothing for the Batu mayor

Oma, Scott, Lauren, Me, Luke

Breakfast during the rice harvest

Javanese wedding ceremony

Giant Durian