First Blog Entry

It’s been 15 days now since I left Germany through Frankfurt airport and began my stay in Indonesia. I apologize for not having written earlier, I’ve been so incredibly busy.

Once we (myself and the five other volunteers) arrived in Jakarta we were greeted by the founder and leader of my hosting NGO (called Dejavato Foundation Indonesia). His name is Ketut and he is a very pleasant man. He took us to stay at his uncle’s house for a 10 day orientation retreat, during which we were introduced to the language as well as a list of do’s and don’ts.

Now we have all been distributed to our individual host families and project sites. My own family is very friendly, even though I can barely communicate with them (they speak only Javanese and Indonesian). But that is no problem; my neighbor speaks some English and will usually help me say whatever it is I need to say. My host father is a carpenter and leaves for Jepara every workday while my host mother stays at home. I also have two host siblings, one boy of 11 and one girl of 6 years. This language barrier however is just an added incentive for me to learn Indonesian. I find that I am making good progress, even though I have only been here for two weeks. Despite the difficulties with the language, I still feel very welcome here.

Let me begin by talking about the food. Although I must shamefully admit that our first meal in Indonesia was at the KFC in Jakarta airport (they serve it with rice here instead of French fries), I have since then gained some experience within the Indonesian cuisine. Rice for example is eaten everywhere, you eat it with most dishes three times a day. Bread or potatoes are rarely consumed, though they can be bought in the modern (heavily air-conditioned!) supermarkets.

Another thing I noticed is the sweet flavor of almost everything here. The tea is sweet, the sauces are sweet, the soft drinks are (very) sweet and the coffee is sweet. The smoking volunteers tell me that even the cigarettes taste sweet (apparently the filters are flavored by adding flower extracts).

Besides its sweetness, the spiciness of Indonesian food is its most noticeable trait. Sliced hot peppers (green and red) are added to many dishes, which takes some getting used to. By now however I quite like the burning sensation which travels from your mouth down your throat, even after you finish eating.

Cheese is another food which is not commonly consumed here. Instead people eat a soy substitute. It’s called “Tempe” and consists of half-half fermented soy beans pressed, cut into blocks and then fried in oil and soy sauce. It tastes somewhat like a mixture of tofu and goat cheese, though it is quite tough in its consistency. With the right sauce it can be absolutely delicious, just like the fruit here.

The fruit is so fresh that it is always juicy and tasty. Bananas, pineapples and watermelons all taste better here because they are grown locally and don’t have to be imported. Currently my favorite Indonesian dishes/beverages are “Nasi Goreng Ayam” which is fried rice with chicken and “Juice Jambu” which tastes mildly like pair.

There is one fruit which deserves particular recognition here: the durian. From the outside it looks like something that might have dangled from a medieval mace at some point in time. It has a creamy yellow color and its spiky skin is hard enough to prick a finger. Even unpeeled it spreads the sharp overpowering sweet smell which it is famous for. Its taste is like its smell, only about three times more powerful. The consistency of its flesh is like that of soft ice cream and it feels slippery in your mouth. I am sad to say that I disappointed the Indonesians in my company when I, after several bites, told them that I didn’t like it. In Indonesia it is considered a delicacy. I have decided to give the famous durian another try six months from now, maybe it will have grown on me by then.

The traffic here is also very different from Germany. People drive on the left side of the road and generally order is not maintained through street signs or markings. Instead there is a general policy of “everything goes”. I still find it quite safe, as this system forces the drivers to constantly remain vigilant of their situation.

Here the motorbike is the epitome of personal mobility. I would guess that the ratio between cars and bikes lies around 1:5, they can be found on every road. Anything, truly anything can be transported by bike here, be it bulky loads, thin fragile panes of glass or 3-4 family members.

I must also comment on my favorite Indonesian discovery: the sarong. The sarong is a traditional piece of Indonesian clothing made from a tube of fabric which is worn by Indonesian men like a skirt. It is also a religious garment, Muslim men here always wear a sarong for prayer. I love it for its airy comfort and its stylish look. I already have three of them, one green, one purple and one blue. But the sarong is more than just a kilt: when sitting in the lotus position it optimally protects the lower body from mosquitoes, at night it is used as an open sleeping bag and on a hot day a second sarong can be loosely wrapped around the upper body and head to shield them from the sun.

I would also like to give a more general description of the atmosphere here. The Muslim call to prayer for instance is as common here as the church bells on a German Sunday morning. Five times a day (at 4:30 am, 12:00 pm, 3:00 pm, 6:00 pm and 7:00 pm) the muezzins in the countless mosques call to prayer in Arabic through the loudspeakers attached to their roofs. Then, shortly afterwards, you can see the lines of men (wearing traditional hats and sarongs) and women (in long white headscarves) returning home from the mushollas (public prayer rooms).

Insects are also larger here than in Germany and I have seen some truly spectacular dragonflies and butterflies around the house.

Besides the insects, there remain the geckos: small lizard-like creatures that croak at night and can be found virtually everywhere. Their feet have evolved to stick to almost anything, be it glass, wood, stone, bark or tiles. You will find them on the walls, the ceilings and even on the roofs of any house.

The smells are another element which I should not neglect to mention. Their variety can be best experienced on a motorbike tour through the village I live in. Your nostrils will inhale a mix of biting exhaust, sweet fruit, smoky charcoal, penetrating gasoline, acrid fumes of burning rubbish and the delicious scent of roadside cooking.

That will be all for this first blog entry. I look forward to finding out more about my project site school (it was closed for the past four days out of respect for the start of Ramadan) and getting to know more students. As you can see, I’m doing great and quickly settling in.

I would love to hear your comments, which you can submit on this blog.

Goodbye for now

Arnaud