Volontaire en Papouasie

As I mentioned in my past posting, Renaud and Fanny are the volunteers from France who help the Sorong-Manokwari Diocese. They both teach English in Seminary Petrus Van Diepen. Renaud is an engineer who works (taking a leave now) for an automobile company in Paris whereas Fanny is a therapist for children with speaking problems.

This is their story (both in French and English):

Merci Lian pour ce blog qui permet de partager la vie d’une volontaire en Papouasie. Et merci de nous donner la parole!

Nous aussi, originaires de France, nous sommes volontaires en Papouasie en tant que volontaires MEP (missions etrangeres de Paris, www.mepasie.org).

Le depaysement est total pour les europeens que nous sommes. Un francais en Indonesie est deja bien depayse mais en Papouasie il l’est encore advantage, la Papouasie est a la fois differente comme chaque ile indonesienne possede sa specificite (nous sommes passes par Java et Bali), mais avec le plan de transmigrations du gouvernement les villes retrouvent une certaine identite indonesienne.

Ce qui frappe au premier abord, c’est la quantite incroyable d’edifices religieux : mosquees cotoient eglises catholiques et protestantes. La population eclectique indonesienne se repartit dans les differentes eglises. La Papouasie est constituee d’une population heterogene, originaire des quatre coins de l’indonesie dans les villes mais des que l’on peut s’en eloigner et qu’on a la chance de survoler cette ile immense, ce ne sont que Papous et foret. Une immense foret vallonnee que parcourent courageusement quelques pistes mais il faut souvent terminer le chemin a pied lorsque l’on veut atteindre un village.

Notre activite ici est de faire pratiquer et faire progresser des enfants en anglais, au sein d’un college catholique (petit seminaire) a proximite de Sorong, a la pointe nord ouest de la Papouasie.

Pour nous, la vie ici est comme un retour aux temps anterieurs parfois (cuisine au feu de bois, douche manuelle a l’eau de pluie, etc.). Les hommes trouvent dans la nature des aliments que nous ne saurions reconnaitre (feuilles, racines, etc.). La cuisine est aussi particulierement depaysante, systematiquement tres chargee en condiments (beaucoup d’ail et beaucoup de saveurs differentes melees), un temps d’adaptation fut necessaire a nos estomacs…

Une de nos difficultes est egalement un probleme de comprehension malgre notre apprentissage de la langue. Nous sommes habitués a une communication plus directe que celle utilisee en Indonesie… Notre bonne vieille France nous manque parfois mais nos familles y remedient en nous envoyant des boites pleines de cochonailles, chocolats et autres livres, ce qui ne fait pas notre joie seule car la communaute dans laquelle nous vivons aime aussi le cochon!

Ceci dit, en comparaison aux mythes qui circulent dans nos pays de l’ouest et dans l’ouest de l’Indonesie, la Papouasie evolue, les villes sont semblables a d’autres villes indonesiennes et les habitants de la foret sont organises en village qui ont parfois l’electricite et ont troque la fameuse gourde a penis contre des vetements (on ne sort l’attirail plus que pour les rares touristes).

Pensees de deux jeunes francais en Papouasie…

Renaud et Fanny de Colombe


Thanks a lot Lian to let us write in that blog which can make us share our life of volunteers in Indonesia, even more in Papua.

We are a young French couple (just married) and volunteers like you, for the association MEP (Missions Etrangeres de Paris, which means Foreign Missions of Paris).

Everything here is completely different from France. In Indonesia already, but even more in Papua where we have the chance to live for one year. What is surprising at first, is the high number of religious buildings of every kind: Mosque, Catholic and Protestant Churches every two hundred meters. As the result of its history, Papua is composed of lots of different people coming from all the Indonesia and believing in different religions. This melting pot can be seen more easily in the big towns than at the countryside where the population is almost a hundred per cent Papuans from the origin. We had the chance to travel in the countryside and to see this culture due to the landscape: Forest, Forest, forest, hill, hill and hill in a huge surface as big as France!!

There are several roads but I don’t know if we can really call them roads because they are very damaged. It must be so difficult to build them that the people who live won’t be invaded for a long time again! There are also some villages that you can reach only by walking for hours or days. We won’t describe this excursion because Lian already did it, but it is true that you have to be quite sportive to do it.

This excursion has been possible during our Christmas holidays. The rest of the time, we work as English Teachers in a Seminary (Catholic school which corresponds to the Junior High School) in Aimas, about 30 kilometers from Sorong. The purpose is to make the children speak English which is completely unusual and not so easy!! More over, we are not at all English teachers in France. But we enjoy it and our every day life.

This life is quite different from our French life much more comfortable. We had to get used to the food: lot of different spices and foods in the same plate with some ingredients, fruits or vegetables which don’t have any translation in French or in English because we don’t use them. We had to get used to the “Indonesian bath” with only a little cup and the water from the rain. We had to get used to the differences of cultures with the problems of comprehension and different ways of communication. The European culture is much more direct than the Indonesian culture. Sometimes, we miss France but we received some boxes from France by our families with the traditional French Saucisson, books and Chocolate….

But all those differences are not as big as we could imagine when we were still in France. In France, when you talk about Papua it is considered as the end of the world with naked people and cannibals. Fortunately for us, it doesn’t have any meaning any more so that we are still alive, dressed and more over we have got the light in our bedroom.

We recommend you to visit this region. Nice to see you there!

Renaud and Fanny de Colombe

The Fairness of Inequality

We all are born unequal. That’s a fact of life. Some are more intelligent, perceptive, better with numbers while others are more athletic, artistic, better with people etc. Some were born with enough or even abundant resources while others were limited in their access to the resources. Instead of the word “unequal”, many would prefer the word “different” or “unique”. We are all unique. I used to think that way, too and I believe that everyone should and could develop their uniqueness to live an authentic life. It is then important to ensure a fair chance for everyone to do so.

But last week this fact of inequality struck me like it never did before. I use the word "inequality" because it seems to me that it is more than just uniqueness.

Starting from the second semester, the students in the seminary Petrus van Diepen, Aimas, are divided into 4 different groups. The division is based on the students’ ranks in the previous semester starting from the highest ranks to the lowest ones. The higher the ranks are, the smarter the students are. Or so it is perceived. The idea is to help the students develop themselves in accordance with their capabilities. It is expected that the smarter ones would no longer get bored when their less smart classmates take longer time to understand the lessons or to put less pressure to the latter when the former get all the questions right. Sounds like a good idea? I find it hard to imagine though how a student would feel if s/he is placed in the group of the lowest ranks. A cold fish in her/his face! What a way to get familiar with the hard fact of inequality at such a young age!

And yes, it is not difficult to see the difference. In fact, it is impossible to ignore it. I instantly noticed it when I entered each class. I started to wonder whether this was a random act of nature. If that so, how unlucky one is when nature decides that s/he should have less capacity than others. How would s/he be able to fare with others if s/he is equipped less than others? Wouldn’t it be unfair? But since when is nature associated with fairness or human conception of fairness? Oh, I'm so naïve, aren't I?

Well, I don’t know exactly how much the contribution of nature and nurture in shaping one’s capabilities. I guess it is too complicated to discuss this issue here. But I heard someone said that “Success is 90% perspiration and 10% aspiration”. In other words, what matters is not what you were born with but what you do about it. This is where characters play its roles. But, what if you were born with certain characters that would hinder you from doing anything to be successful? Some say that is why we need education because it is believed that characters can be shaped by education or trainings.

But, could education really solve the problems? Doesn’t the above class arrangement simply show that the school not only accepts but also confirms and endorses the inequality of its students as defined by the ranks? Is that how we embrace the inequality?

What really bothers me is the idea (or is it the fact?) that those with more resources would fare better than those with fewer resources. Or those who are more intelligent would have more chances than those who are less intelligent. And so on. We could have a very long list here. Hello, where have I been? Why the surprise?Again, I’m being as naïve as I could possibly could today ;-)). Forgive me.

Yes I know that it doesn’t always be the case. We could always find some people who managed to overcome or go beyond their “situatedness”. But what allows them to do that? Nature? Nurture? Again how much are we determined by what nature gives us?

Christmas in Wilderness - II

We arrived in Sun at around 2pm. It took me 4.5 hours while others took 4 hours to arrive in Sun. We spent the night there. It was such a relief to be able to rest and to have a bath after that wearing trip. In the evening, we had a mass in a church/school. But that night I started to get stressed out thinking about the tomorrow’s trip. I was told that the track to Seya from Sun was more difficult. I tried hard to sleep as early as possible in hoping to regain back my energy to face tomorrow. The next morning, I woke up feeling the pain in my feet. However I had no choice but to go on walking. It was indeed a more difficult track.

Having walked for 3.5 hours (for others 3 hours), we finally got to Seya, our destination. Unfortunately I couldn’t take part in the traditional welcoming ceremony since I arrived much later than others. Seya was a lot bigger than Sun. There were some other alternative ways to Seya besides the one from Suswa. You could either come from Sire or Ayawasi (through Mosun). But both ways can only be accessed on foot. By that, I meant walking for more than 8 hours (for the locals). Moreover, should you come from Sorong, you have to drive for 12 hours to Sire and 8–9 hours to Ayawasi. Besides this difficult access, there wasn’t much water in Seya. They had to walk 1-2 km to take water from the spring. What a place to live! There must be something about Seya that people are willing to live there. I honestly couldn’t comprehend this.

According to Engel Semunya, a Seyan who now lives in Sorong, the people of Seya have moved 8th times to the current location which they found in 1993. Gosh, wasn't it still quite recent? I thought a nomadic life was something from the old, ancient times. They moved to seek for a new piece of land or a better access for water or sometimes because they fought among each other. They did fight a lot with each other. Engel could still recall how in 1993 at a very young age, he and the whole village were carrying some furnitures and stuffs to a new place.

That afternoon, an opening ceremony for the new church in Seya was held. It was then followed by the Christmas Mass led by the Bishop. The mass was not only attended by the people who lived in Seya but also by some other people from the surrounding villages and from Sorong. It was the first time a bishop ever stepped foot in Seya. I was sure that they really appreciated this gesture. Mgr. Datus Lega used this opportunity to listen to and to look for the solutions of all kinds of problems that the people in Sun, Seya or Suswa were dealing with, right from the mouth of the horse.

After the mass, the people started to dance the traditional Papuan dance called tumbuk tanah. They did it all night long until the sun rose the next morning. Unfortunately, they did it right in front of the house where I was staying. They were singing while dancing. They were so excited and so loud that I had to spend the whole of Christmas Eve with wide open eyes listening to the sound of tumbuk tanah. My plan to recuperate in order to get ready for tomorrow’s trip was doomed to fail.

At Christmas day, after the mass and lunch, some of us (Reno, Fanny, Rita, myself accompanied by my dayang-dayang and some other locals) left Seya ahead of others who would leave the next day. It was my idea. The thought of walking straight for 8 hours from Seya to Suswa worried me a lot. I was afraid that I would be unable to catch up with the rest of the group. The plan was to spend the night in Sun before heading back to Suswa the next morning. We would arrive in Suswa the same day as the others who left one day later. I suppose it would be more bearable. Apparently some of us had the same thought.

It turned out to be a correct decision. The rest part of the journey, Seya-Suswa and Sun-Suswa, felt different. It looked like my body had made some adjustments that I now could breathe evenly and place my feet swiftly and smoothly between the roots. I began to enjoy the hiking. My self confidence was building up. And I now could look around the forest, felt the cool breeze and smelt the fresh, natural scent of the leaves and earth. I started to see the beauty of the Papuan forest. During the first 2 days, I hardly ever took my eyes off the track for I had to watch over my steps.

And we finally arrived in Suswa on December 26 at around 1pm. The rest of the group arrived later in the afternoon. We all spent the night in Suswa and played cards with the Bishop. He played it really well. I lost to him, and the others, all the time. We had been playing cards in any spare time that we had during the trip. The next day, Sven, that young, cute pilot picked us up to leave for Ayawasi. But it was really the end of the Seya trip. No more hiking. No more leeches. I was relieved. I was glad I made it. But at the same time I regretted that it was over when I just began to enjoy it. I started to miss the hiking in the forest. Don’t we always miss something after it’s gone? Goodbye Seya!

Christmas in Wilderness - I

I finally had a chance to taste the “wilderness” of Papua and saw with my own eyes places that can only be accessed on foot by which I meant walking for hours. Never in my life have I been to that kind of places. I joined the Bishop and some other people including Reno and Fanny Colombe, the volunteers from France, to visit and celebrate Christmas in Seya, Mare District, Sorong Selatan Regency.

We left Sorong on December 23, 2007 with that petite Pilatus. After 35 minutes flight we landed in Suswa, a small village by the river, and stayed there for a few minutes to prepare for the trip. We then left Suswa by crossing the river with a small, gawky boat. They had arranged who among the locals would help us carry our bags. God bless them! Without them, I didn’t know how I would survive the trip. I actually started the journey by carrying my own camera backpack. But in only a few minutes, I had to hand it over because there was no way I could carry it myself. I couldn’t even carry my own jacket. So embarrassing! This first part of the trip i.e. Suswa-Sun was a real challenge to me. Hey, I am a city folk. Have mercy on me ;-).

We had to hike up through the roots in the hilly, wet tropical forest and to tilt along the hillside. The forest was so dense that in some places the sunshine did not reach the surface of the earth making it damp and slippery. I slowly trekked the hill while panting, gasping for air wishing that I had exercised before. I was totally pooped.

During the whole hiking, I was literally “babysat” by 2 people whom I called dayang-dayang”. They, Frater Selvi and Om Emus, with great, utmost care helped me go through the whole hiking. They carried my stuffs, held my hands through the difficult hillside, waited for me when I needed the rest and water … and they even snatched the leeches from my legs. Gosh, I didn’t know how many leeches have glued themselves to my legs. Yuck! I could only scream for help whenever I felt something was biting my leg. They were disgusting. So these dayang-dayang were really my guardian angels. My slow pace had obviously tired them out. I felt guilty but could do nothing about it. They were jokingly (or maybe they really meant it?) offered to carry me in a cart that we could speed up the hiking. Hell no! Yes I was struggling but there was no way I would let them do that. That would be so humiliating, wouldn’t it?

I obviously became the weakest link of the whole group. I was in awe to see how little kids and some women who were carrying their babies walked fast past us. I tried to console myself with the idea that if I had been born in Suswa or Seya, I would have been able to walk like them. Yeah right!

Back to Civilization

I didn’t know that it could get pretty hard to go back to a strange land after spending 2 weeks in the world that I had been so familiar and comfortable with ;-). It is never easy to let go off the attachment, isn’t it?

It’s not like I’m whining about my life situation in Sorong (or maybe I am). I actually enjoy it. I mean I enjoy being in Sorong when I am in Sorong ;-). But it’s different when I see it from Jakarta. There is this “x factor” that sets Sorong and Jakarta apart. It makes Jakarta look much more fascinating. And, it has made me not so keen to get on the airplane that took me back to Sorong on December 10 ;-(.

I guess it’s mostly about comforts or lifestyle. Or perhaps it’s more than just comforts? Perhaps it is all of those things that makes up for the civilization? (That kind of civilization that I'm familiar with?) I don't know.

But this comfort factor turned out to be quite illusive. As I landed in Sorong, things were all looking normal and not as bad as I had imagined when I was in Jakarta. Quite relieving. I guess it all depends on your options or alternatives. Had you had nothing for a comparison, then you would have nothing to complain about ... hehe. To live peacefully you shut yourself from other alternatives!

So, I come back to the place where I am supposed to be until mid 2008. That’s the plan.

One thing though … I missed some people in Sorong when I was in Jakarta. They are the kind of people that are hard to find in Jakarta.

What kind of Kindness?

What is kindness? Giving away things generously? Is there such thing as excessive kindness? Would such kindness be of help to empower others? Or would it instead work against empowerment?

Remember Fr Tromp? Some people, including other local priests (who come from other parts of Indonesia) are quite critical about the way he treats the locals. He is seen as being too generous and too kind to the people particularly the Papuans. It looks like he always gives almost anything they ask of him. And this gives the local priests a hard time for they can’t afford of being as generous as he is. Besides, that kind of generosity is considered a charity which often leads to dependency. Therefore, instead of empowering the Papuan, he pampers them. Many people see him as the foremost defender of Papuans. Apparently this is also the general attitudes of other Dutch-born missionaries. It is the reason why the native Papuans like them more than they like the local priests.

I somehow agree with the above-mentioned view about Fr Tromp. This reminds me of one Catholic priest in Java who has similar attitudes. I don’t understand how you could expect people to grow if you always grant anything they want with almost no efforts. Teach them how to get what they want. Teach them the how.

But it easier said than done. Honestly I have no clue on how it is to be done particularly with a civilization as young as the Papuans. To some of them (the people in Lembah Baliem in Wamena for instance) the encounter with other people outside their culture (read: modernity) occurred quite recently that was in 1957. How do you expect them to adjust their long-well preserved way of life in such a short period of time?

Fr Tromp thinks that the best you could do for them is “being there” for them without having pretension of turning them into modern men. But how possible is that? I wonder if perhaps the phenomenologist is being too optimistic to expect that one could really bracket his/her prevailing opinions or beliefs or whatever. Wouldn’t it be like climbing out of yourself?

And would it mean that we have to let them live the way they had been living their lives? The question is could some people seclude themselves from the rest of the world in a more integrated and open society like todays society? There have been some problems with the way Papuan who had been living a life as gatherers all their lives adjusting themselves with other culture or one may say ‘modernity’. We’ll talk more about this later.

Oh, Raja Ampat! - Part II

Compared to the nerve-wracking trip to Waigeo last September, the sea was quite calm this time. During that Waigeo trip, the sea got so rough that I was so certain it would eventually smash our small speedboat into pieces. With that terrifying prospect, I tried to pray (what else could one do in that kind of situation? ;-)). But, it was not easy. I was freaking out. The boat really looked like a tiny, powerless piece of wood being drifted harshly by the vast, wild, mighty ocean. Oh, ye of little faith! What was I so afraid to lose, I wonder ;-)?

Anyway, it was different this time. I so enjoyed this trip to Misool. I even sat on the deck enjoying the view of the beautiful Raja Ampat. It took us more than 5 hours to get to Misool because we also visited some kampongs in other islands like Batanta, Limalas, and Folei before we got to Tomolol, our final destination. It was actually a pastoral visit. Together with some church leaders, Fr Lewi was scheduled to visit his congregations in The Islands of Raja Ampat Regency which included the employees of a pearl farm near Tomolol.

We spent the nights in a compound that belongs to that farm. It was built on the sea. The farm also has other compounds in 5 different locations. The compound functions as the office and houses all of the employees in each location. Every morning, the speedboat takes the employees to the sea around the compound where they nucleate and tend the oysters and to the floating huts where they do their work (I don't know exactly what they do in there).

So the employees basically work and live in that compound. Once a month, they’ve got some days off when they could go to Sorong to finally set foot on the land and see other people besides their co-workers ;-). But the rest of the time, they are stuck with each other in that place. Thus, romance is obviously almost unavoidable. Two couples got married when we were there. They had been waiting for Fr Lewi to hold the wedding ceremony for them.

And it was such a modest ceremony. Ehm, maybe it’s a little bit too modest. They still went to work on the day they got married. One of the brides didn’t even have or bring her own lipstick. So, she used mine. No fancy gown. No parents. No extended family. No parties. No cakes. No drinks. No dancing. And … no wedding ring! It was just like another day. So casual. All they needed was the priest. "The worse the wedding, the better the marriage", says Carrie Bradshow from Sex and the City. Sounds like a good idea for your wedding? ;-)

Oh, Raja Ampat! – Part I

The place is so magnificently beautiful that it doesn't seem real! It was like being on the other planet or in the other time. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. Hm perhaps the Twelve Apostles in the east coast of Victoria, Australia might be the closest one. But those rocks in Misool, Raja Ampat are many, many times more exquisite than the Twelve Apostles.

They stand above the sea looking like the stupas of Prambanan. Despite its striking beauty, I find the place a bit creepy though. The dark green water around those rocks is too calm, too quiet, too serene, and too deep. No waves whatsoever. It gets more eerie if you are there in the dusk when you could still see the dark shadow of the rocks and feel the intense tranquility of the see. We were in one group of the rocks at around 6.30pm (we visited 2 locations)! I held my breath for being captivated and intimidated at the same time by that daunting beauty. I felt like something could just abruptly emerge from the sea. Too wild of an imagination, huh! Unfortunately, it was too dark to take any pictures in a moving boat.


The other group of rocks that we visited is located on the way to the so-called “Tempat Keramat” (Sacred Place). It is a huge cave on a small rocky island with its gorgeous stalagmites and stalactites. We could actually go through the cave with a very small boat but our boat was a little too big to do that. But I’d rather not do that because I never like caves. It’s damp, cold, dark, and mysterious. And as if it was not enough, they even put a tomb at the mouth of the cave! What an idea!

With a four-engine speedboat, it takes about 4 – 5 hours from Sorong straight to Misool. The Regency of Raja Ampat (Four Kings) consists of 4 big islands these are Waigeo, Batanta, Salawati, and Misool. That’s where the name of “Ampat” (Four) comes from. But apart from those big 4 islands, there are hundreds of other small islands. According to Meidy who works for Coral Map in Waisai, Raja Ampat actually comprises 604 islands. Wow!

To Be Continued ...

Desperately Seeking For Ketupat

There are times when you can’t help being silly for wanting something so badly. Last Saturday was one of those times. I was craving for ketupat (rice wrapped with coconut leaves in a trapezium shape .. hihi ... good description?). Why? Well, it was Lebaran! It is the best time to eat ketupat.

Whenever I am in Jakarta, I always eat ketupat at Shinta’s in Tebet. But since I haven’t had many muslim friends here in Sorong, I had to tag along with others. So I went with dr. Alex, Willy, Shinta (Adonara) who lived in Bintang Timur clinic. The four of us left the clinic early at 10.30am with 2 motor bikes ready to hit the road. I was so determined to eat some ketupat that day. I was a woman on a mission.

The first house that we went to was Hari’s house who works at Yayasan Sosial Agustinus. Having waited less than 15 minutes, the host asked us to take some meal at the other side of the room. My heart leaped with joy. Oh yes!! But I didn’t find any ketupat on the table. So, I ate only a little to save some room in my stomach for ketupat that would have had later on. This was only the first house and we still had some more houses to visit.

From Hari’s house, we went to Aimas, around 30 minutes drive from Sorong. It was so damn hot of a day. The sun shone blazingly. It was scorching. You’ll be burnt to a crisp if you dare to stand in the sun of Sorong for 2 hours. Refused to get more tanned than I had been already, I equipped myself well enough for the ride. I put on my sweater, a cap, a scarf to cover my nose and sunglasses.

We stopped at the front yard of a quite nice house in the transmigran’s (Indonesian government’s program in Suharto’s era to move people from Java to other islands including Papua) area in Aimas. This time, it was dr. Alex’s acquaintance. It looked promising. Unfortunately, the host turned out to be a bachelor. There was no chance of having ketupat there. Feeling a bit disappointed, I convinced myself that the hope was still there.

Then we went to Pak Slamet’s house. Pak Slamet is Fr Tromp’s driver who picks me up every Thursday evening. I was so hopeful this time because when I told him that I would like to eat ketupat at Lebaran he said he’d have had it at his place. It was still in Aimas. But the weather suddenly changed dramatically. It started to rain heavily albeit only a few minutes. We had to pull over to find a shelter. We found Pak Slamet’s house. Having waited for quite some time, there was no sign of our getting some ketupat. So we, ehm I mean I, left the house with a big dismay. The hope was fading away now. I was losing my confidence.

We then headed back to Sorong. There was still another, the last, house to go. Trying to save my mission, dr Alex suggested us to go to a doctor’s house, before that last house, which he thought might have had ketupat ;-). Thanks! This hadn’t been on the plan. Disappointingly, we found only an empty house. And the last house also turned to be a big disappointment. The host had gone out. Apparently, my mission was destined to fail. A total failure!

It was almost 4pm. Everyone looked tired now. The weather has added so much to our weariness. It rained for 5 minutes then it stopped. It rained again then stopped. We had already pulled over 4 times during the whole ride. So much for ketupat ;-)! And I ended the Lebaran day in Sorong with a bowl of instant noodle … crying out loud!

Survive with Rp 30.000/month?

How long could one survive with Rp 30.000 (USD 3.3) in his pocket? One day? Two days? One week? How about one month? Are you kidding me?

No, I am not kidding. I am dead serious. I know it is not even enough to pay for one (short) cup Frappucino in Starbucks, Jakarta or to buy lunch in Tokyo or to watch movie in the Waterfront, Capetown ;-). Well, it may be enough to buy lunch in an average restaurant in CBD area in Jakarta. But that’s only for one day or 2 days if you don’t mind eating in the basement!

Okay, here are some additional, relieving facts. Let say you do not have to pay for accommodation, food, medical and transportation (simply because you are not supposed to go out ;-)) but you have to use that Rp 30.000 for everything else: soap, toothpaste, detergent, clothes, underwear, entertainment and all other daily necessities. Is it still impossible to do? I know very well that some of you would think so. I do think it is impossible (for me) to do that.


But some people, I mean real people, have been doing it in this real life! And they survive so far. I’ve met them alive ;-). They are my students in Rumah Bina (Prep School) of Pieter Van Diepen Seminary, Sorong. Being the priest candidates, I guess they are expected to lead a very modest way of lives. They must learn to survive each month with that little amount of money. I found out later that most Catholic priest candidates must actually undergo the similar situation. It is part of their education or training process. Some told me that at least those candidates in Sorong do not have to pay for anything. In some place, the priest candidates actually have to pay some fees or pay penalties if they later decide to discontinue their education in seminary.

Alright, I know some of you might say, “hey, they should consider themselves lucky because there are so many people who do not know what to eat for their dinner tonight or do not have a place to sleep at night.” I know, I know. Still, it is quite new for me to learn that someone could actually survive with Rp 30.000 per month. I suppose with that amount of money one could only afford a very basic lifestyle. But isn’t a basic lifestyle enough? Really? I don’t know.

One thing for sure I suddenly feel so very rich.

Nothing is Too Profane

If you think the church is only concerned about the after life, think twice or come to Papua. The church here becomes very much part of the everydayness. Nothing is too profane to take care of. Sometimes it even involves cultivating and selling bananas or beans ;-). That’s what Father Anton Tromp, OSA, does. Well, among so many other things of course.

He is now the rector of Pieter Van Diepen Seminary in Aimas, Sorong Regency where I spend 2 days a week teaching. He is also in the financial board of the Diocese of Manokwari-Sorong, the board of LBH in Manokwari and AMA in Jayapura, the Prior of the Augustinian Order, and many other things. But don’t expect him to be that typical bureaucratic, religious leader who is waiting to be served or who is concerned only with the after life. He is certainly not. In fact, he’s so down to earth. He does all sort of things that a religious leader in other places might be reluctant to do. I’ve seen him sitting with some students sorting out beans that they were going to sell to town. He took the broom and swept the floor afterwards. One day when we were talking in his place some locals came in with a dead boar. They caught the boar but they did not know where else to go to sell it but to him. Fr Tromp weighed it and bought it at the market price, Rp 25.000/kg.

I certainly got the impression that he’s more than just a priest there. The other day I also saw some locals who came to him to tell him about someone who had been drawn in the sea for a few days but the body had not been found up to that moment. And I’ve heard someone in Manokwari who’s having a problem with his house called him up for help. They come to him with problems, real problems to be solved. In other words, he is their actual leader. Moreover, I just heard from other priests that the people around the place love him a lot.

Talking to him about Papua is like talking to an encyclopedia. He knows so much about Papua. He said to me, “I know most of Papuan. Pick one name and I could tell you what his/her father or family has done in the past. I know all of their sins.” Isn’t he funny? But it’s probably true because he has been living in Papua for 37 years. He came to Papua in 1970 when he’s 24. He’s been in Papua longer than he had been in the Netherlands, his original homeland. He is now an Indonesian citizen.

Fr Tromp is an illustration of the role of the churches in Papua which is certainly not to be underrated though of course not all priests are loveable and serving like him ;-). The churches had been here long before the government (Indonesia) came. Papua just joined the Republic of Indonesia after the referendum (Pepera) in 1963 while the missionaries had already been here since around 1855. These missionaries were the ones, with small air crafts, who went to those remote, isolated places where no one had ever stepped foot before. They, both Protestant and Catholic, play a significant role here in Papua. In the past, the Dutch arranged that the Protestant went to the north and the Catholic went to the south. It’s all different now though I could somehow still feel the sentiment. I was asked so many times about my religion. I don’t quite know how to answer it. Faith is a tricky subject to define ;-).

On Sorong

Now let’s talk about the town where I’m living now, Sorong. The town lies at the “mouth” of the Bird Head of Papua Island. There are many other small islands surrounding the town. It’s a small town with around 160.000 – 170.000 people. Nevertheless, it’s already considered a big town in Papua that has only about 3 million people living in the whole island. In the past, Pertamina owned most parts of the town. Sorong has everything that a small town normally has: shops, supermarkets, banks, hotels, restaurants, hospitals, etc. And as I said earlier, you could find almost everything here.

But honestly, nothing is really interesting or beautiful about the town. Rain that has been pouring the town everyday over the past 3 months has destroyed most of the low-quality streets and has created so many potholes. The rutted sidewalk and the front yard of most buildings or houses look dreadful. I really think that the municipal government should work harder on the cleanliness of the town. There is no sin in making a town clean, pretty and in order, isn’t it? They don’t have to evict anyone to do that, do they ;-)?

The landmark of the town I guess is what they call “tembok” (wall). Some of them call it “tembok Berlin” which I find it bizarre since there is no resemblance whatsoever either in shape, meaning or history with that historical wall in Berlin. Anyway, it’s not an official name so let’s leave it there. Tembok is a hangout place. As the name suggested, it is the wall or fence around 1-2 meters high that is built along the coastline from Lido to the harbor which is about 2-3 km long. It’s painted blue. And I find it ugly.


But that’s the only place where you could sit to watch sunset because there is practically no sand beach in town. In fact, it might be specifically built for that purpose because it looks more like a bench. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen a spectacular sunset since my arrival. Probably it’s because of the weather. Young people who don’t bother with sunset could just hang out there with some friends to watch the passersby. The main attraction of the wall is probably “the food court” that is some warung tegal (hawkers) at the one end of the wall that open at night and sell variety of food like ayam bakar, bakso, soto, nasi goreng, cap cay, coto makassar, pisang epe, etc. Not the typical local food, for sure.

One thing I like about the town though is its public transport. You could get around the places by “taksi” as the locals call it though it is actually a yellow minibus (or “angkot” as known by other Indonesians). The fare is Rp 2.000 to anywhere plus some loud, very loud, music ;-). There’s no “kenek” (assistant to the driver). So, to get the door closed every time a passenger gets off, the driver pulls a rope which its other end tied to the door. Convenient! Unlike Jakarta in where everything seems to be in a rush, here you could actually take your time to get in or get off the taksi. The driver or other passengers will wait for you patiently and won’t slam the door behind you. That is never going to happen in Jakarta where the bus is already taking off before your feet even touch the ground.

But you know what the biggest problem that this town has? No teh botol here ;-). Damn! In Jakarta or other cities in Indonesia, one can easily find teh botol in every corner. I feel like I was in a foreign country … Hiks!

Bad Haircut Won't Kill

I just witnessed something stupefying today! I entered the pavilion in Bintang Timur clinic where Shinta was staying and couldn’t believe what I saw in there. I’ve never seen this in my life. In there, Shinta was cutting Debby’s hair. What’s so strange about that? Well, what could possibly go through your mind when you let someone who has never had any single training as a hairdresser in her whole life cut your hair?

I couldn’t bear that thought. It took me years to finally find a hairdresser to whom I entrusted my hair. I’ve never attempted another hairdresser until now. It was like finding your soul mate ;-).

I just want to underline the importance of a hairdresser in one’s life … ergh … I mean in my life. Why? Because it is you who will bear all the consequences of every single thing s/he does with your hair. It is you who will walk with funny looking hairstyle for many months if s/he has done something wrong. And the thought of paying someone to make you look funny is utterly excruciating!

So, I nervously watched Shinta’s hands as the hands ungainly moving around the hair to perform the task. It was plain to see how inexperienced those hands were. I was trying to look for a trace of doubts in Debby’s face or anxiety in Shinta’s face. Nothing! In contrast, they both seemed so relaxed like it was a normal thing to do. I restrained myself from stopping them. Debby, a Sangir girl who works in the clinic, wasn’t bothered much with the rough looking hairstyle that she now has. And Shinta, the girl from Larantuka, appeared to be as calm as any other experienced hairstylists who just completed her work. I didn’t offer any comments. I was still in a state of shock. I later found out that many people in Sorong do this that is having friends or family cut their hair though there are actually some hairdressers in town.

But I guess I envy them for taking their hair not too seriously as most people in a different “Lebenswelt” do. It’s like they are saying to me: It’s just hair, so what? They’ll grow. There are so many other important things to worry about in this life. Bad hairdo won’t kill you, will it? Nah!

From A Distant Land

I’m just being thrown to a far-away land. Welcome to Papua! I finally landed in Sorong, Papua on September 1st, 2007 after a long flight with 2 layovers (that means 3 takeoffs and 3 landings … phew!).

A new episode has just begun.

I was told by the Archdiocese with whom I flew to Papua that Sorong was actually quite big of a town. Hm, I didn’t quite believe him and I chose to play safe. So, I brought so many stuffs with me thinking that Papua was “supposedly” the least developed region in Indonesia where you could not find anything but only the very, very basic stuffs. I packed my bag like I was about to go to South Pole or Timbuktu or somewhere like that. Fortunately, they didn’t charge me for the overload baggage. But to my disappointment, I soon found out that Sorong had almost everything I needed! I could find my shampoo, my soap, my milk, my tissue there ;-). I also could easily find satay, soto, martabak, Chinese food. And, they even have KFC! Ah, there goes my exotic, tribal island! There goes my plan to use this chance of forcing myself to go on diet based on the knowledge that the food would be so plain. Truly disappointing!

Wait, but that’s only Sorong, the city, that I know only for 3 days now. The truth of the matter is I ain’t seen nothing yet for I haven’t been to those remote places, up in the mountain, or to other part of Papua which I’m sure would captivate me. So, I shouldn’t kill that hope yet ;-).

Another surprise is to see so many non-Papuan here in Sorong. Some people even told me that the non Papuan actually outnumber the native Papuan. They mostly come from Sulawesi (Makassar, Toraja, Manado), East Nusa Tenggara, Ambon, Java and I see some Chinese. But it all makes sense because Sorong, being a harbour, is actually a gate to Papua island, the “closest” to Indonesia ;-).

I’m interested to find out more about the people. It should be interesting. I’ve already heard about the heavy drinking habit and BNS (Baku Naik Sembarang) the free sex culture that placed Papua as the region with the highest rate of HIV/AIDS infection. But for now, let’s hold all the judgment …

Happy 62th!

There are a few things in life that we do only once a year. And I just realized it yesterday that "panjat pinang" is actually one of those things. In Indonesia, we only do it on August 17th, on our Independence Day. "Panjat pinang" is a game where groups of people must climb a betel palm tree to get the prizes on its top. The only problem is the tree is spread with oil. So, in order to win they have to work together and do some acrobatic movement. The prizes range from a basket of food to a bike!


There are some other games that are usually played on the Independence Day such as "makan krupuk" (eating crackers that are hanged in front of your face while your hands are tied), "balap karung" (sack racing) or "tarik tambang" (tug of war), etc. But unlike "panjat pinang", these other games can easily be found in any social gatherings. You cannot see "panjat pinang" on other dates but August 17th.

Why bother talking about games on such an important day? Well, why not? Why should we spend energy on a dreary topic like what makes us proud to be Indonesian. I'm afraid I'll get frustrated on trying to find the answers. The recent poll (14-15 August, 2007) by Kompas shows that 34% of respondents in 2007 are not proud to be Indonesians whereas only 5.1% of respondents in 2002 felt that way. Oh dear!

A Wild Ride

Why do we hate corrections? Yes, they are bitter and painful but they also give us a chance for a healthier, stronger and further growth. Don’t they? Therefore we should actually celebrate what’s been happening in the global stock market i.e. a plunge triggered by the US credit crunch fallout over the past few weeks. The risk is now being repriced. Besides, we can’t have a bull market all the time, can we?

Well, it’s certainly easy for me to say that because I’m currently not holding any positions in any capital market instruments now ;-). Some fund managers however, whose funds are exposed to the US subprime mortgage, must be going through hell now. Yet it is still a nicer hell compared to the one that the investors are going through now.

So, it’s more of a show, a reality show, to me. I think the current situation of the global stock market should have won the prize for The Most Interesting Reality Show. So much drama and suspense. I’m willing to lose some sleep for having to stay up late, sometimes until 3 am Jakarta time, to watch CNBC. It’s been very amusing to see how the market players interpret and react to the situation. Analysts, traders, fund managers, investment strategist, academics or even central banks are all trying to figure out what’s been really happening with the market and most importantly what to do next. Sell? Hold? Or buy? They argue, they debate, they scream and they are confused. Central banks are criticized for injecting too much money or too little money or even for intervening/bailing out or not intervening the market. Chaotic!

The problem is nobody seems to know yet how big the exposure is until the dust settles. This adds nervousness to the frenzy and thus sends the volatility over the roof. It’s been a wild ride. Moreover, you cannot really trust the big houses these days. One day they say they have no exposure to the sub prime loan now but tomorrow they may say other things or already suspend the redemption of their funds.

So, buckle up! The show does not end yet.

That Bloody Microchips

Imagine how the world would be if people are divided into the ones tagged with microchips and the ones without. Imagine how your life would be if you happen to be the one whose body is tagged with the microchips. Everywhere you go, whatever you do will be all monitored. Doesn’t it sound like a tale from a dusty, old book or movie? Unfortunately, it might well turn into a reality, here in Indonesia, in the land of Papua. The parliamentarians in Papua are considering a controversial bylaw that would enforce this using of microchips.

The purpose of the bylaw is to monitor the sexual behavior and activities of people living with AIDS. One of the lawmakers there calls it a “major breakthrough” to fight against HIV/AIDS. What was running through their minds to even consider such things? This is a power/state intervention to the human body. It reminds me of Michel Foucoult that explains this relation between power and knowledge in an attempt to control the behaviour of society. What’s left to a person if s/he cannot have power over her/her own body?

Let’s continue our imagination. Imagine how devastating your life will be when people around you look at you as “the other” who should be avoided. Wherever you go, you bring with you the tag of the outcast, the pariah. This is the most brutal form of modern discrimination. Having the microchips tagged you may cost you your job, your family, your friends. You may even have to live in a secluded, designated area. You stop becoming a person. In short, you lose your life.

Phew … I think I should stop the imagination here because it starts to freak me out to think of the possibility of tagging the microchips not only to people living with HIV but also to anyone that those in power would like to get rid of. That would be the most horrifying thing one could ever imagine.

I hope this is only a dream … Wake me up, please!!!

Where God Kissed The Earth

I always dream to have a house by the lake with huge windows looking out to the mountains. The other side of the house, as I imagine, is surrounded by the carpet-looking paddy field or grassland. I just recently found the perfect place for that dream house. And it isn’t that far … not in New Zealand or Switzerland or South Africa which I consider among the most beautiful places on earth but it’s there in my homeland from which my ancestors come from.

How ironic that it has got to take someone else from a different land to show me how absolutely beautiful Tano Batak.

Tano Batak is in North Sumatra, Indonesia. The highlight of it is off course Lake Toba. All this time I had been aware of its beauty (or so I thought) but I didn’t realize that the beauty is so stunning until my recent visit. This time I have a chance to see it from the side which I didn’t know ever existed before. Despite the cold feet that I got when we drove down from Tele to Sianjur Mula-mula, the picturesque view really took my breath away. The scene in Tongging where the waterfall Si Piso-piso is situated is also amazingly exquisite. Rm Lili jokingly said that God must have kissed the earth once when God created it in whatever year. And that part of the earth is of course Lake Toba.

However, the view is so far enjoyed by only a few people. There are only a few tourists go visiting the place. Many would rightly say that tourism in North Sumatra is not well or properly managed. The government has not been really exploring the potentials of that region. Or perhaps they simply don’t know what and how “to sell” the potentials? Apart from the panoramic scenery, the Batak culture is actually very interesting to observe. Nice landscape would eventually bore you but interesting people would always be fascinating to explore.

But ... ah, isn’t a blessing in disguise for me? Keep it that way, the place for my dream house would neither be so expensive nor overly commercialized like other touristy places. It will remain quiet, fresh and clean. Hopefully I could still feel the kiss of God over there …

Know Thy Neighbor

It is not meant for as a moral suggestion. As a matter of fact the suggestion has an economic value. And I just lost some money for not knowing my neighbor. How so?

Having moved to my apartment, I decided to sell my house in Lippo Karawaci. It was a very small but lovely house in a safe and nice neighborhood. I had lived there for 5 years before I moved to Jakarta. Actually I hardly really lived there because I spent most of my time in Jakarta (about 25km away) not only during the week but also in weekends. Just like thousands other commuters I had to commute to Jakarta every day because I worked in Jakarta. And almost every weekend I drove back and forth Jakarta since all of my friends live there. Probably it was more of a hotel than a house because I only put my stuffs and came to sleep at night. So, I did not have time to socialize with the neighbors.

Is it really? Nope, I think I just found myself an excuse.

The truth is I am not really that kind of person who likes to socialize with the neighbors. I have this kind of attitude of “leave-me-alone-and-mind-your-own-business”. I did not try to make any efforts to get to know any of them. Too lazy to have small talks. It is also the reason why I chose to live in an apartment now. Is it really a typical attitude of city folks? I hope only a few people in Jakarta have that kind of attitude. I’ve learned my lesson ;-).

Anyway, I then contacted a property broker to help me sell the house. It took her almost a year to find a buyer with the price that I wanted. And to my surprise, it was my neighbor who bid my house. They wanted to buy the house for their daughters. Why didn’t they call me instead? Well, how on earth they could get my number if I have never had talked to them? And when I put the house on sale, I already had moved to the city.

So, get to know your neighbor. If it’s not for a moral reason, at least you may save some money. They could be your potential buyers. It had cost me the brokerage fee for not knowing the people who lived next to my house ;-). Not good enough for a reason, huh? Sounds too calculating? What if I say that I actually felt bad for not knowing Pak Johan and Bu Yulia who turned out to be very nice people? Okay ... that sounds better.

Befriend The Darkness

Last night I got a text message from a friend about something that got me thinking about it the next day. At first, I was not that interested because it was such a cliché question. I used to think about this question long time ago but kind of forgetting it now. Many philosophers have been asking the same question: what makes us happy? Aristotles, hedonists, utilitarists, etc. are among them.

Here is the conversation:

He, 10:40 pm
Could you say one reason why we should be happy in this life?

Me, 10:54 pm
A lot: instant noodle when it’s raining, lying down on grass field facing up d sun, long talk with a friend, surprising emails or calls … etc. Hehe, not serious?

He, 11:07 pm
They r temporary. U wont lie down on d grass field all year, or have a surprise call every day. Just one thing as a reason 4 us to be happy in this life … (?)

Me, 11:17 pm
I don’t thnk theres ONE thing that could make people happy permanently. It’s a combination of many thgs and has more 2 do with our state of mind.

He, 11:32 pm
If this is so, d one thing we seek after is d happy state of mind: how we perceive this life. It depends on d state of mind, not things in d world.

Me, 11:42 pm
Yeap. Maybe the correct word is not ‘perception’, too idealistic. It should include our attitude, approach towards life. Why asking? Seeking 4 happiness? Hehe

He, 11:57 pm
Why asking? Doesn’t Heidegger say question is d piety of thinking? I am practicing it. Life isn’t that interesting but that’s why it is interesting to think about it.

Me: 12:11 am
Really? I thnk life is soo intrstng that’s why it is interesting to thnk abt it ;-). Full of unpredictable thngs, mystery, irony, anxiety, unspeakable moments … Sometimes despair, pain, boredom color it. But they make life more intrstng. It’s a truly great work of art.


But when I was writing down my last message I actually forgot that I myself had been too focused on goals or targets (no matter how authentic they are). I thought achieving the goals would make me feel happy and enable me to escape the gloomy, depressing, disturbing emotions or state of mind such as despair, anguish, agony, boredom. Unfortunately, they are a fact of life. They are parts of life. Instead of running away from them maybe I should befriend them. Oriah Mountain Dream perfectly says it in the Invitation:

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.