The Compensation Game

Watch out for animals when you are driving here in the Bird’s Head particularly in the outskirts of the town. You’ll get fined, dude. Yeah, you’ve got to pay some money for compensation to the owner of the animals. The funny thing is the compensation is in proportion to the number of the animals’ tits. No kidding! The more the tits are the higher the compensation is. So there is this rather harsh joke that it’s better to run into a grandma than into a pig.

There are many compensation or fine in Papuan’s traditions. Perhaps it could be thought as penitence to your sins or wrongdoings. When you are cheating on your wife, you’ll have to pay some compensation to your wife’s family. When you impregnate a girl then you have to give some money to her family. The same thing applies when you physically hurts or hit someone until s/he bleeds. You pay for the blood. In some communities, you are even fined when you break up with your girlfriend regardless you already sleep with her or not.

They even asked for compensation when a member of their communities, especially the distinguished one, dies. As long as the person dies in a considerably young age (well let’s say not above 55 or 60 years old) then there is always this suspicion that s/he was murdered. (Well, I don't understand this suspicion.) I heard a demo took place when a native pilot crashed his plane years ago. I witnessed a protest march a few months ago asking for clarification and compensation from the government when a member of local parliament died.

It also occurs in "business" transaction. It's strange but true that when you buy a piece of land, you actually have to pay some compensation for any trees in there. This may cost you extra money because the people who own the land are not necessarily the same with those who plant the trees. This may even cost you some extra energy because you cannot cut the trees down unless you get the permission from the person who plants them. You have to negotiate for that and pay. You should hope that the trees bear no sentimental memories to the owner ;-). There are some durian trees in the land that was bought by the Diocese in Fakfak years ago. The trees are still there because the owner of the trees in the land that is not his hasn't given a permission to cut them down.

Almost everything can be settled with compensation. How big the amount of the compensation is up to the negotiation skills of the parties involved. The negotiation can be quite tricky. Often they start off with a ridiculous amount of money. But they may end up with very little or nothing. It could start from something like Rp 10 million but end up with Rp 2 million or they throw an amount of Rp 50 million but eventually are being content with Rp 5 million. In a more "serious" matter, people may ask for Rp 1 billion but agree to take Rp 60 million or bluff for Rp 15 billion and end up with nothing.

No Alcohol Please

Now I know where to go if I decide to permanently live in Papua. It’s Manokwari. Well, I haven’t been to Jayapura or Timika yet, but I could say that Manokwari is on top of the list for a place to live in Papua. I like the town. Compared to Sorong, Manokwari is far more “civilized”. It’s beautiful, clean, green, in orderly and not very crowded. Whereas it is hard to find streets without holes in Sorong, most streets in Manokwari are in good conditions and clean. Even the streets to the outskirts of the town as far as 80 km are very good (for Papuan standard).

Manokwari just recently became the capital of Papua Barat, the new province. [In case you wonder, it is a picture of fish in the beach of Manokwari]

The town is at the bay and is quite hilly. So the town has the beaches and the hillside. The beaches are clean and beautiful. There is also forest in the northern part of the town that belongs to the local college. You could take a small boat to go to the nearest, small islands like Mansinam where the first Christian missionaries (Dutch pastors) first set foot in the land of Papua in 1855. That’s why Manokwari is called the “Bible Town” (Kota Injil). In every corner you could find a picture of Jesus giving the blessing to the town.

Like other towns in Papua, Manokwari is a small town with perhaps only 2 or 3 main roads. There is 1 department store and some convenient stores in town but there is no (yet) a mall. So you could actually save up some up some money because there is nothing really to spend your money with.

Surprisingly, I saw some coffee shops here in Manokwari. These coffee shops look quite nice. I never see any coffee shops in Sorong. Well, yeah there are restaurants and pubs in Sorong but coffee shop is something different.

The only shortcoming or perhaps advantage of the place (depending on how you see it) is that no alcohol allowed in Manokwari. So, the only place where you could drink wine in Manokwari is in the church during the communion ;-). They’ve got quite some problems with alcohol here in Papua. By legally banning alcohol in town the government hopes to solve the alcohol problems. Effective? Hm ... I don't know. But the rumour has it that some people (those with lots of money obviously) fly to Sorong to get booze during the weekend.

So, perhaps Manokwari is a good place to raise your children. Don't you think? A beautiful and clean place without malls and alcohol. What more could you expect?

Fly Me to The Neck

I just came back from some places around the Bird’s Head of Papua doing some auditing works for the clinics owned by the Diocese. Over the past 2 months I’ve gone to Manokwari, Fakfak, Bintuni and Kaimana. That’s why I’ve been offline for quite sometime.

Sure you have no idea where exactly these places are. I just realized that most Indonesian who live in Java or Sumatra have very poor knowledge about Papua. It’s almost like a foreign country to them ;-). Okay, let me give you some description. Imagine the head of a bird. Sorong is the eyes of the bird and Manokwari is at the backside of its head. If Bintuni is in the chin, Fakfak and Kaimana are both in the neck.

To go to those places, except to Manokwari, one has to take small aircrafts, around 16 people on board. But these are bigger planes compared to the one we took to Suswa last Christmas. Often the flight is delayed or canceled because of the bad weather. The runway in Fakfak is so short and small that in a cloudy day the pilot has to do some maneuvers in order to find it. It took us 1.5 hours, normally takes about 45 minutes from Sorong, to land at the Fakfak’s airport. It was quite an experience to be in a Twin Otter that flew below the cloud, went up the cloud and went down again, made several u turn, flew up and down again for 45 minutes before it finally landed. Phew!

Is it cheap to fly in Papua? Heck No! You pay Rp 1.3 million to go to Kaimana (1.5hours with Twin Otter and 1hour with a bigger air craft, I forgot the type). It costs around 1 million to go to Manokwari (30 minutes with Boeing 737-200). And what really bothers me is the fact that in some places (except Sorong and Manokwari) it is not so easy to get the ticket. You can only get the ticket one day before the day you fly. There is no certainty whatsoever. In Fakfak, having booked the ticket for 1 week, I’ve got told just one day before the day I was supposed to fly that there was no flight to Sorong tomorrow. Great! The plane was rented by members of parliament. Sometimes it is rented by the local government. “Important” people, huh?? I think the reason why they cannot confirm the ticket until last minute is to make the ticket available for these self-important people.

But it teaches me to be more patient. I learn to put up with uncertainty. Here in Papua, you should be ready to stay longer than you plan. And stay calm when it happens ;-). I went berserk when I first experienced this.

Alternatively, you could go by ship. Most places are not yet accessible by cars. Ship takes longer but the schedule is much more reliable. Apparently, ship is quite a popular means of transportation here in East Indonesia. The big ships called Kapal Putih go to most big towns. I once took the ship to go from Fakfak to Sorong. It’s actually quite convenient if you are not in a rush. To most people here, Sorong-Fakfak, 12 hours by ship, is considered close. “It’s only 12 hours”, say them. It takes 3 days to go to Timika (from Sorong) or to Jayapura. Yeah, but a 12-hours-flight could take you from Jakarta to Capetown.

A Nice Coincidence

We human are so keen on looking for meaning to our existence, aren’t we? We try hard to make sense of everything. The problem is our "equipment" looks quite limited to explain everything sensibly or say rationally. Some things apparently are meant to remain mysterious. Or do we just call everything that we don't understand mysterious? And why should mystery exist? To make life more interesting?

That Friday morning in the Seminary I read Kompas Minggu. I saw a short story by Ayu Utami (I forgot the title) but I saw a line below the title saying “Untuk Bona dan Weni”. The story was dedicated to them. Aha, I know them. It must be them. It must be that Bona and Weni. I bet there aren’t many couples whose names are Bona and Weni. So I told Fr Tromp that I know these people. Wow, isn’t it awesome to have a short story dedicated for you in Kompas Minggu? But he wasn’t so impressed since he didn’t know who Ayu Utami was. Well ...

That was 7 am. I then went into the class teaching. At 9 am, my cellphone was ringing. I didn’t pick it up because I was still in the class. It was a new number. At 1pm I called the number back. It was Weni!! Gosh, what a surprise! We haven’t contacted each other for almost a year and suddenly she contacted me two hours after I saw her name in Kompas. I told her about the short story. Yeah, it was their wedding gift from Ayu Utami. They just got married on April 4.

A coincidence? Well, we haven’t contacted each other for almost 9 months. So, what is the odd that she called me two hours after I saw and thought of her? Perhaps it’s a sheer coincidence. But I’d like to believe it as a synchronicity, a meaningful coincidence though I didn't know what exactly it meant ;-). But it had given me a little break from the “rational” explanation of reality. A nice little coincidence!

Born to Be A Catholic?

I almost leaped with joy when one of my students in Rumah Bina submitted an essay outline with this topic: God does not equal religion. Rumah Bina Tolentino is a house for diocesan and OSA postulants. He started with an argument that most of us “inherited” our religions from our parents.

Yeah, tell me something that I don’t know, you might think. But hey for these people to whom religions become their most important identity, this is quite a thought. Their lives revolve around church activities. They address others according to their religions. You hear these remarks often: “Yes, that policeman is a Catholic” or “No, she is a Protestant”. Well yeah we might find similar situations in other parts of the world including the so-called the first world. People are even fighting in the name of religions.

But that student hadn’t gone that far with his outline when other students protested him right away. Some were so convinced that they become Catholic because they chose to. The class was soon debating the issue.

Oh really? Let’s see. I asked the class about their parents’ religions. These students come from the Christian / Catholic region of Indonesia namely Papua, Nusa Tenggara Timur, Mollucas Islands, and North Sulawesi. Out of 16 students, there were only 2 students whose parents were Protestants (not even Moslem). So, I asked them, “If you had been born in West Sumatra or West Java in Islamic families, would you have been Catholic?” Nah!

And by the way, have they really examined other alternative religions exhaustively before they decided to become Catholics? I doubt it. Not in a way that I think is sufficient to make the claim that they have done their homework before making that decision. I don’t think they had ever seriously considered Islam or Buddhism or Hinduism or even atheism. Well, I don’t blame them. They are the children of their society. There is always a few who could go beyond or transcend their social settings. But most people don’t. It’s more convenient to accept the socially-handed-over beliefs, isn’t it?

Anyway, back to the essay. That student backed off. He canceled the topic. Apparently he got intimidated by his classmates’ reaction and scared away with the consequence of his writing if it was published in the diocesan monthly bulletin as I planned. I failed to convince him. I console myself with the thought that at least the class started thinking about the issue. Is religion divinely bestowed upon them regardless their geographic, social, political settings?

Life in Ayawasi – Part III

It’s so damn quiet here! It is quiet in its truest sense of the word. You hear nothing in the morning … nothing in the afternoon … and absolutely nothing in the evening. No phone calls to make. No web to browse. And one has to put up with 4 hours electricity per day. Well yeah, it’s a kampong in Papua. What do you expect Lian, I asked myself. I can be very stupid sometimes, can’t I? ;-).

Everyday I kept on saying the same thing to Fr Buce about how quiet the place was as if it was a new discovery of the day. In addition to Fr Buce, there are 4 others who currently live in the parish pastor’s residence namely Brother Wempi, Frater Felix and Frater Adri and Theo, the postulant. They are really nice folks! They cook their own food and do all of the chores themselves. Independent men, huh!

The isolation of the place adds up to the quietness though it is actually not as isolated as other kampongs like Fef or Seya, the place that I visited last Christmas. At least one doesn’t have to hike up for hours to come to Ayawasi. But since there is no public transport available it is pretty hard and expensive to go from one place to another. What available here is the transport (cars) run by individuals who charge the unbelievable prices which I had discussed earlier.

Thanks goodness I got myself busy helping Fr Buce with his research. Otherwise, I can’t imagine how I would survive my life here. I don’t understand how Fr Buce could stand living here for almost 6 years now. He looks like he enjoys his time here. So do the others. I guess one has to be very, very creative in creating jobs for him/herself here. There aren’t many things to do except for some church activities during Easter. In a few days I had already finished visiting most of the nearest kampongs that were accessible by motorbike. And we even rode to Teminabuan (about 4.5 hours ride). It was the longest time I’ve ever sat on a motorbike. Phew!

But that’s about it. And I had to spend 12 days here. The original plan was to head back to Sorong in March 24th. But we were stranded! Since 24th, there was no flight came in to this kampong. Probably it’s because of the holiday. It was hard to get a car (that L200) either. But we finally managed to get one on 26th. Aha, do you know how to order a car without telephone? Well, tell the whole kampong that you need a car and you wait.

Anyway, Ayawasi is actually rather nice and spacious. It’s quite cool in the evening and it rains a lot during the day. It’s a good place to get fat because you will tend to get hungry and sleepy all the time. There’s only problem though. There is no market here. So, fresh food is not always available. Sometimes some people sell vegetables but sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they have chicken to sell, but other times they have nothing. If you are lucky someone may bring some pork or fish from Teminabuan or other kampongs. But you really never know when they will do that. So you cannot plan on what you are going to eat tomorrow or even today. What you would have in your table tomorrow will remain a mystery until just a few hours before lunch time. I find it amusing to guess what we would have for lunch.

Funny though that when you finally have got some food you have to cook it right away for there is no fridge (no use with limited electricity). So there are times when you have to eat pork for 4 or 5 days in a row. Therefore, Fr Buce and his households have to stock up some preserved food, be it instant noodle, canned food, or salted fish. Again, creativity would help a lot here. In spite of this situation, I actually gained weight during my stay in Ayawasi. Thanks to Frater Adri!

Life in Ayawasi - Part II

Ayawasi is a kampong that is located in the “eyes” of the bird’s head of Papua Island. The people who inhabit the area is known as Aifat which is the sub ethnic of Maibrat. The Maibrat ethnic itself consists of Aifat, Aitinyo and Ayamaru.

Ayawasi plays an important part in the history of the Catholic missionary in the bird’s head of Papua. The Parish of Ayawasi is one of the oldest parishes in the Manokwari-Sorong Diocese. It covers the area such as Mare, Karon and Ayawasi and its surrounding. Ayawasi is an all-Catholic and nearly-all-Papuan kampong. The common family names here are Turot, Taa, Saa, Jumte, Tenau, Kosho, Fanataf, etc. This is considered a tough parish to manage. Besides the remoteness of the place, the people are not easy to deal with, says Fr Buce Takerubun, OSA, the parish pastor. They are very critical and are not hesitant to use violence to sort things out. And when this happens no one is spared from their rage. Not even the pastors. In Fr Buce’s words, this is what they said: “Even Jesus was killed by the Jews. So why can’t we kill a pastor?!” Wow!

Jonathan Fatem, Pr, a previous priest here, was almost stabbed with a spear when protecting a murder in the parish residence. Fr Buce himself experienced the similar thing. During his first 3 month being here, some people came to him with knife blades to protest against the building of a bridge. They wanted it to be built somewhere else. They threatened to burn the church and the pastor’s residence. Instead of being intimidated, Fr Buce challenged them to do exactly that and put the gasoline and matches before them. It worked. They took off.

I remember Fr Tromp once told me that this was a typical “game” of the locals. It is the way they communicate with each others. They shout. They scream. They threaten. But that’s basically a bluff. In response, you have to shout, scream or roar even louder, stronger, or fiercer or else they would take you lightly. Fr Buce knows how to play this game.

In addition, probably like other places in the Papua Island, the people here don’t take orders easily, not even from their own parish priest. They wouldn’t do what they are asked to do unless they see that their pastor is also doing or participating in what he is asking them to do. So it’s quite common to see the pastor carrying cements or stones in the cart or fixing the lights in the church, etc. Even the Bishop himself drove a truck to deliver some stuffs to the construction site in the Seminary. I can’t help comparing this situation with the situation in Java or Flores where pastors, monks, nuns are treated with so high of a respect that they seem to come from a different class of society.

One ex fraters from Flores who had been here before told me how he almost cried when visiting one kampong. That night, he had to sleep in a hole of a sago tree after a very long walk. He said it would have never had happened in Flores. He would have been greeted and treated with a great respect. If it had been in Flores, he might have slept soundly in a clean bed.

Life in Ayawasi - Part I

We arrived in Ayawasi at 11.11 pm after 10 hours driving from Sorong. This long, tiresome ride was mostly due to the bad condition of the road. Some parts of the road do not even deserve to be called road. It was so bad that it took us 10 hours to get to Ayamaru which is only 164 km away from Sorong. That included the time we had to spend to wait for or help other cars that got stuck in the muddy road. A truly off-road experience! Luckily we’ve got a first-rate driver who seems to know the road like his own palm. Oh I so trust Oom John, the driver!

In the past, Ayawasi can only be accessed by small aircrafts flown by the Catholic missionaries (Association of Missionary Aviation). The runaway in front of the church complex was built by the missionaries. But Ayawasi can now be accessed by cars in spite of the ridiculous fare. From Sorong to Ayawasi one has to pay Rp300.000 one way per person (with no baggage) to sit in a 4x4 wheel-drive small truck (Mitsubishi L200). Should you bring lots of stuffs with you (your basic necessities or groceries that you couldn’t find in Ayawasi) you could rent that car from Sorong for Rp2.500.000. That’s one way fare! Phew … that’s a lot of money, isn’t it?

I find the transportation fare here outrageous. The local government must work harder to bring it down. To go to Teminabuan i.e. the capital of the Sorong Selatan Regency which is only 117km away from Ayawasi you have to pay Rp 150,000. That’s for 3 hours drive and the road condition is not as bad as that of Sorong – Ayawasi. In contrast, the air conditioned bus fare from Banyumas – Yogjakarta (4 hours drive) is only Rp 35,000 (March 2007). I know it’s not a fair comparison. But, neither should we take this situation for granted. The administration of Sorong Selatan should take this problem very seriously.

The absence of affordable public transport has made the prices of basic necessities in Ayawasi and nearby kampongs unbelievably high. It has made life here harder than it should be. Everything is so damn expensive here. They have to pay Rp15,000-20,000 for 1 liter of gasoline which is normally sold at Rp4,500 everywhere else. 1 bag of cement is traded at Rp135,000. Feel like eating chicken? Well, you have to be willing to spend Rp100,000 for the whole piece of chicken (ayam kampong). Meanwhile 1 egg costs Rp3,000. Phew … It’s so unfair.

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!