From Our (Former) Flores Correspondent

Knowing me better

2007-10-20T16:58:00.001+01:00

On the 20th of October 2006 I wrote my ‘first post on my first blog’. Now, exactly one year later I submit to you my 79th and last post. The past year has been extraordinary: working in Indonesia, travelling in Australia, New Zealand & China. Now I am back in the UK – it seems little has changed… being away you always think that you are missing out on so much at home, but maybe it is home that is missing out so much without you.

I have been re-reading my blog, reminding myself of some of the events I went through & seeing how I struggled to describe some of the cultures and countries I visited. There were some classic, if slightly ott lines from me: ‘this plethora of colour… makes the whole vista shimmer & shine like a leprechaun attached to the national grid’; and some insightful comments from my readers: ‘where in god's name do you find a synthetic penis in Bali?!’, as well as an ongoing debate on most topics between Kerry & DT.

There seemed to be a number of common themes: the advent, passing & return of homesickness; race, racism & cultural understanding; the fickleness & unfairness of the media. I think these are the areas in which I have learnt most – both about the world & about myself. Now that I am home, I hope that having shared these things with you whilst I was away, you will ‘know me better, not as a stranger but as myself’.

Homeward bound

2007-10-16T09:41:00.000+01:00

I am on my way home. Properly this time - in a few hours I will board a plane bound for London Heathrow & step back onto English soil for the first time in nearly a year.

I left England expecting to spend 12 months living & working in Indonesia. But instead of (or kind of as well as) I have visited six different countries (plus two special administrative regions), seen two of the wonders of the world (plus five world heritage sites), taken 28 flights (plus one helicpoter) & had my passport stamped 26 times (plus four visas). I've met hundreds of people, some of whom I will stay in touch with for the rest of my life. I've seen so much, done so much, experienced so much. I've had some of the most amazing days of my life, but I've also had some of the worst - both will always stay with me.

So after all this it does feel a bit funny to be going home, but I am ready. It's not that I miss the specific & material things anymore - I learnt long ago to adapt & live without them. But I do miss friends & family. Modern communication has made being away from loved ones easier to bare than it may have been in the past, but all the same I am looking forward to a hug from my mum!

I am not sure how long the joy of being back on English soil will last... it's a risk that I've developed a taste for visiting foreign countries & cultures (regardless of how much I moan about them on my blog) that just hasn't been quenched yet. But for now the buzz of finally heading home is enough. It's been a long journey (in every sense) & I am ready for a rest... for a while at least.

A sense of history

2007-10-09T10:00:00.000+01:00

China is old. The Chinese had mastered fire by 600.000bc, a written language & the paper to write it on by 2000bc & a common currency & system of weights and measures by 200bc. Furthermore, much of the evidence & artifacts from this time are still preserved today in China's modern cities & provinces.

the Great Wall

Seeing this is a little strange after Indonesia (which seemed to have forgotten its history) & Australia (which on the one hand had relatively no history & on the other a living history of primitive survival). I now understand the awe of American tourists visiting the UK ('it's so owld').

But the most amazing aspect of China's ancient civilization is how it is still respected today & how Chinese people still learn lessons from it. For example, ancient calligraphy carved 1000s of years ago is still studied by modern day students to learn good grammar & handwritting skills.

I am sure China has changed a huge amount since it opended its doors to the West 30 years ago. Next year it hosts the Olympic Games, putting it firmly in the global public eye. I am sure that the Chinese people will proudly display the modern infastructure created for the Games, but I am also sure that they will use it as an opportunity to showcase their long & facinating history.

the new Olympic stadium

Perceived Risk

2007-10-05T03:57:00.000+01:00

My time away has seen me try so many different things. Often these have seemed intimidating - moving to a new country; travelling alone; working in a foreign culture. Sometimes they have seemed scary - diving with sharks; travelling on night buses; experiencing earthquakes. And sometimes they have seemed downright dangerous - riding motorbikes without helmets; snowboarding down mountains; swimming in huge seas. But waiting to throw myself off the side of a canyon the other day, my abseiling guide used the term 'perceived risk' & I guess that's what it's all about... some of the scariest things are infact the safest & some of the things that seem safe should, in reality, be treated with much greater caution.

I am now on the last leg of my trip travelling accross China. The country seems very different from the other Asian countries I have visited over the last year - more modern, more organised - but at the same time seems very familiar - a rice based diet, an incomprehensible language & culture. It feels safe, but at some level I do feel an undertone of fear... the ever present police & military; a proliferation of satelites & anntenae (for mobile phones apperently), a lack of political opposition or protest.

I am sure that my level of risk taking has changed over this past year - I am more open & willing to try new things - but that hasn't made me complacent. I still want to try intimidating, scary & occasionally dangerous things, but perhaps now I have a clearer understanding of how I (&others) perceive these risks.

4.28 million + 5

2007-09-13T11:51:00.000+01:00

Well, I have finally made it to Sydney - the last stop on my Australian adventure & the penultimate stop on my global adventure.

Although Australia has a population of 20 million, around a quarter of Australians live in or around Sydney. As I have witnessed over the last two months the centre of Australia is deserted with all the major connorbations lining the coast.

So Sydney is a huge & sprawling city, & temporarily you can add five more to the millions of people that already live here. After two months travelling on my own I finnally have some British friends coming to join me. Tomorrow Zoe arrives - Indonesia didn't work out for her in the end, so while she plans what to do next she is coming out to Oz to reunite the old Ruteng party crew!

The following day Kerensa & her husband arrive. Kren took over some of my responsibilities at NFER but now she is starting an adventure (& maybe a blog?) of her own.

Then finally on Tuesday the famous blog commentator Mr DT arrives - I guess someone else will have to post comments on my rantings for the next few weeks!

I'm really excited that these people who have played such a significant part in my life over this past year are coming to help me end my trip in style - Sydney wont know what's hit it!

No news is good news

2007-09-07T08:38:00.000+01:00

I thought, before I went away, that I would miss the 24 hour news culture that we have in the west: waking up to the Today Program on Radio 4; keeping an eye on the BBC news feed while at work; watching the 10 o'clock news before bed. But I haven't really missed it at all.

Firstly my experience living in a developing country showed me how selective the western media is... life & death going unreported because it is too far away, geographically & (maybe more significantly) politically.

You also come to realise, when you don't have your news drip fed to you, that most news is no news... look back over a weeks headlines & what has really happened of significance? Or, in my case, look back over a year of missed news & has anything really happened at all? A new Big Brother winner & the people he/she has slept with? A flood in the north of England which did not kill anyone or destroy anythink irrapairably? A new prime minister, an event that was known so far in advance that it almost seems ironic to call its eventual advent news.

At the moment Australian news is dominated by the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) summit. World leaders are converging on Sydney & the ensuing security lockdowns & public protests are playing havoc with my travel plans! So once again I am keeping an eye on the news, & I guess that's the nub of it. News is what is important to you - news of friends & family; news of filmstars or celebs; news of third world countries in crisis - & what is important to you constantly changes. And what is important to me right now is that Bush buggers off out of Australia & lets me enjoy the final weeks of my holiday in peace!

The sky at night

2007-08-29T23:20:00.000+01:00

One of the less obvious differences (until you think about it) about my life here in the southern hemisphere, compared to my home in the northern hemisphere, is the night sky.

Now I'm not the worlds greatest astronomer, but back home I could recognise the basic constellations: The Plough., Orion, etc. But since leaving the UK last November I haven't seen a single one of them.

The sky here is completely different, but no less beautiful. The first constellation you learn down here is the Southern Cross, the emblem of the southern skies. Also commonly visible is the Milkyway, a beautiful cloud-like mass floating across the sky.

But what really brought these differences home was that last night there was a total lunar eclipse. Obviously we have these in the northern hemisphere too, but as I sat watching the shadow of the earth make the moon glow red I couldn't help thinking that back home it was the middle of a summers day. And that made home seem a very long way away.

New friends and old

2007-08-27T01:39:00.000+01:00

I'm now well over half way through my travels, both geographically (I started in Darwin, travelled down the middle to Adelaide, accross to Melbourne, over to New Zealand, back to the east coast of Oz & now I am in Queensland making my way down the coast towards Sydney & the end of my journey) and timewise (I return to work at NFER in a little over eight weeks). I am well adapted to the backpacking lifestyle (sleeping anywhere and through anything, packing & repacking my bag, getting bottom bunk) and I am well adapted to being on my own.

Travelling alone has not been a problem, I have been able to do what I want when I want and that is great. It is easy enough to meet people... staying in backpackers (youth hostels) most people are in the same situation and just a quick drink in the local bar & you can have half a dozen new best friends!

But the conversations do start to get a little trying, a little repetative: 'where are you from' 'how long have you been here' 'where are you going next', and if you are lucky/unlucky 'what do you do'. It is nice meeting so many new people, but the routine of learning about who they are and where they are from is getting quite wearing! So now that the end of my year long adventure is appropaching, I am strating to look forward to returning home to my old friends, my old job & my old routines (for a little while at least!)

How ya' doin'?

2007-08-20T01:14:00.000+01:00

Walk into any shop, bar or restaurant; board any train, plane or bus in Australia or New Zealand & you wont be greeted with 'hello' or 'how can I help you?', but 'how ya doin'?'.

Now maybe I'm a very restrained English person, but I struggle with this. In my opinion 'how ya doin'?' is a question that can be asked between people who know each other, or at a push between people who plan to know each other & is a genuine question requiring a genuine response. But in this situation the question is more of a greeting & seems not to actually require an informative answer.

When I first arrived in Australia I would, when asked, actually tell people how I was doing, e.g. 'cold', 'tired', 'cool'. But, despite these just being one word answers I soon realised from peoples surprised expressions that this was too much information. Local expressions didn't seem to go down too well either (awesome - oz; sweet - nz) but a traditional English 'fine' seems too reserved.

So suggestions please on how to answer this personal question in an appropriately enthusiastic yet uninformative way!

Skills for life

2007-08-13T02:14:00.000+01:00

When I told NFER I wanted to work abroad for a year they thought that it would be great professional development - that I would develop new research skills. Personally, I thought that spending a year abroad would be great for my social skills - that I would develop new people skills.

These two aims have certainly been achieved, but no-one predicted the number of new sporting skills I would develop. First there was the scuba diving in Thailand, then surfing in Indonesia, and now I am in New Zealand learning to snowboard. Admittedly, my snowboarding skills have not developed quite as fast as the scuba skills, & they certainly have been a lot more painful to develop. But it's all good fun! So snowboarding can now be added to the list of skill that I've developed this year & will keep with me for the rest of my life.

Other skins

2007-08-04T02:28:00.000+01:00

Kathryn left an interesting comment on my last post about the ability to be different people in different places. I have certainly experienced this phenomena over the last year... more so now than ever.

Ironically it was easiest in Ruteng - although I had to adopt a conservative modest persona which on some levels went against my more social flirty nature, it was essentially a professional persona. One which we all have to submit to in order to earn a living.

karen at work

In Bali I rebelled against this - bikini by day, short skirts by night - & a wilder, more extrovert personality to match.

karen at the beach

Since being in Oz my clothes have matched my activities - walking boots & thermals in the bush; jeans & heels in the city.

karen up a mountain

karen in the city

But my personality? I don't know... I can be anyone: timid; outspoken; life of the party; or quiet one in the corner. Travelling on my own there is no-one to register the difference. No one asking me if I'm ok on the quiet days or telling me to chill out on the manic ones. I kinda like this freedom... it has made me wonder who I really am, but it's liberating to be both Mr Jekyll & Mr Hyde without anyone complaining. Maybe we are always many people, but it's only an experience like this where you can really let all those people come out to play!

You can take the girl out the city...

2007-08-01T02:27:00.000+01:00

My travels have now brought me to Melbourne, the first real city I've been to for a good 9 months. Admittedly I've been to Ruteng, Jogjakarta, Dempassar, Darwin & Adelaide, but for one reason or another none of them really felt like cities. But Melbourne does & I'm loving it!

It has the decadance, the style, the noise & the anonymity that is only ever possible in a real city. At last I have the privacy I've been craving (despite being in a city of x thousand people & sleeping in a dorm with 10 other travellers). I'm able to wear shoes & makeup that put a swing in my step & I've been able to get my hair fixed! So I'm sorry, but I am no longer a blond bombshell, just a regular girl with regular hair & a nice pair of heels!

Respect, guilt, disgust

2007-07-23T00:19:00.000+01:00

In the last two weeks I have travelled the entire length of Australia north to south, Darwin to Adelaide. A grand total of 3085km through the centre of Australia. The majority of the area I have travelled through has been uninhabited desert. Uninhabited that is apart from the native aboriginal people.

The Australian attitude to aboriginals is a strange one, a mixture of respect, guilt and disgust. There is a great respect for the traditional culture of the Aborigines... indeed the majority of the tourist attractions through the red center are based on aboriginal art, sacred sites and traditions.

However Australians still feel guilty over the British colonisation of Australia that all but destroyed the native aboriginal communities. Today's Australian population seem to feel a huge collective remorse, in fact since 1998 Australia has been holding 'National Sorry Days' as an apology and reconciliation to their native inhabitants. There is also a large amount of positive discrimination and social benefits directed at the Aboriginal community.

Yet despite this respect and this guilt, there is also an undercurrent of disgust. The Aboriginals that are visible in towns and cities appear marginalized and are most often seen begging, fighting and drinking in the streets. Alice Springs, for example, has one of the highest murder rates and one of the greatest levels of alcohol consumption in the world due to its Aboriginal population. Alcohol addiction in the aboriginal community has led to strict laws and it is expected that the Northern Territory will become a dry state within the next five years.

It seems that western culture is continuing to have a negative impact upon aboriginal culture, but who are we to judge... culture is not a static ideal but peoples lives. The Aboriginal community is not a tourist attraction but a group of people with the rights and the ability to decide their own future. And as for the rest of the Australian population? I guess they have learnt to live with their contradictory feelings.

But after my experience of being identified and judged on my skin colour in Indonesia it feels very strange. I thought I had learnt a new level of tolerance, but here I am again looking at a group of people identifiable by their appearance and judging them and the society the live in and my feelings of respect, guilt and disgust seem to be much harder to reconcile.

Life through a lense

2007-07-21T07:49:00.000+01:00

I've always been a reluctant photographer, preferring to get copies of other peoples pics than to take my own. This reluctance is not (just) a result of laziness, but more a slight embarrassment - the crassness of capturing a moment & sealing it in a little box for eternity.

This photophobia reached its peak this week at Ularu (no pun intended). I had travelled for days to the centre of the Australian continent to see the worlds largest rock. And so had hundreds of other people. Hundreds of people from hundreds of countries are bussed in each day to photograph sunset, to photograph sunrise, to photograph the worlds most photographed rock.
I found this faintly embarrassing and fully annoying. The rock is beautiful & all that, but its beauty felt sullied by the hoards of people who would only look at it through a view finder. It felt as though each tourist, each camera stole a little bit of beauty from the rock. I began to resent the rock in the way I resent new years eve - the syndrome of being forced to do something (have fun / see beauty) at a certain time just because everyone else around you does.

So I've seen Ularu & I have that picture in my memory, but I don't have pictures of it to show you, instead here are pics of some other beautiful places I've visited that you wont find on an Athena poster or on the front cover of the Lonely Planet.

Mudsely beach, UK

Angel Island, Indonesia

Farmhouse, Madagascar

Mount Connor, Australia (about 60km from Ularu)

Indonesia's far south

2007-07-16T08:18:00.000+01:00

The Lonely Planet states that Darwins proximity to Asia can "make it feel as though it is indeed Indonesia's far south". No. There is little, if anything here that reminds me of Indonesia.

The vast landscapes & huge skies of the Australian Northern Territory are the very opposite of Indonesia's volcanic & mountainous terrain. You can easily see through the thin tree trunks & low brush which is controlled by man-made bush fires (if only Indonesia could pre-empt & manage their natural disasters). Whereas in Indonesia you could rarely see 10m in any direction due to dense undergrowth, mountians or trees.

So Australia is not like Indonesia. Good, that's why I came here! The people are friendly, travel arrangements are easy & I have already fulfilled one of the objectives of the trip... I am once again the proud owner of a pair of pointy stiletoe shoes!

Just me (and the hobbits)

2007-07-08T14:27:00.000+01:00

It's my last few hours in Indonesia. Zoe has returned to Flores & I am alone again as I will be for the next three months. It's an intimidating thought, but all the same I'm looking forward to a new challenge & a new country.

It'll be strange moving from the worlds largest archipelago to the only country whose land mass is so great it forms a continent. In Indonesia I often travelled between islands by boat & it will be a marked difference to travel across land - across distances so great and so empty I can't begin to imagine what it will be like.

But I am expecting some things to be familiar. Flores is the same side of the Wallace Line as Oz so some of the flora and fauna will be the same. There is also new research suggesting that the Australian Aborigines first came from Eastern Indonesia (check out the Flores hobbit), many thousands of years before I ever thought of making the journey.

So tomorrow I will arrive in another adventure. I hope that this one will be a little easier than the last, but I also hope that I learn & experience just as much.

Blondy does Oz

2007-07-03T09:52:00.000+01:00

My time in Indonesia is drawing to a close. I have a ticket to Australia booked for next week, but more significantly I have a ticket booked back to the UK.

I still wont be home until October, but up until now I have only had a one-way ticket. I hadn't realised how unsetteling it was not to know when I would be coming home, but it feels nice to know when exactly I will be coming back to Blighty - even if it is in the middle of winter.

But in the meanwhile it's all about Australia. I've been trying to culturally prepare: I've been drinking lots of beer; I took a surfing lesson; and I dyed my hair blond(er).

This latter attempt at cultural adaption didn't go quite as planned. Of course I was already blond (definatley not 'mousy'... possibly 'dirty blond' if you wanna be picky), but I had some roots showing & thought that a hairdresser in Bali may be able to help. They helped by bleaching my hair so much it turned orange!

It's washing out a little now, but it's still quite extreme. But I guess as I wont be working for the next four months I can take advantage & settle into life as a typical ozzie blond!

Last kiss goodbye

2007-06-27T06:07:00.000+01:00

I’m back in Bali, on the second leg of my ‘Goodbye Indonesia’ tour. The tour started in Labuanbajo with the wedding of Ros (former VSO volunteer) and Kasim (local man). The wedding was fun, and in a pleasant mix of European and Indonesian culture, pretty drunken.

I wasn't the most drunk...

...but I was the last one dancing (with the groom!)

After a day to recover, Zoe & I took a two day diving trip – amazing marine life (sharks, dolphins, rays), amazing nightlife (not my usual kind, but a night under the stars with just the sound of water lapping at the boat hull), and amazing company (Zoe of course, I think there may be quite a lot of idolization of the one I’m leaving behind over the next few weeks!)

relaxing on a deserted beach between dives...

...relaxing on the boat between dives!

So then back to Bali, this haven of sun, sea and whatever. I have a few days here alone to sort out final bits and pieces with VSO then Zoe comes out to join me. We plan to revisit some old haunts, including Gilli T – the island where we had that amazing New Year party, which already seems like a hundred years ago.

I still don’t miss Ruteng, but returning to all these other places does make me realize that I do like Indonesia after all – or at least the parts where you can get cheese wine and dancing!

Last words from Flores

2007-06-18T02:21:00.001+01:00

‘I have had the leaving party & the leaving presents... all that is left to do now is leave’. I wrote that sentence once before, back in November (a lifetime ago) – I guess that’s the thing with travelling, as well as always arriving some place new, you are also always leaving somewhere.

My leaving party here was quite different to the one I had before I left the UK though. We went to the beach, had a BBQ, played games. Far less alcohol, but still a lot of fun.

the office girls

traditional dancing on the beach

skipping with the boss

So here I am again, ready to leave one place & start another adventure. I leave Ruteng on Tuesday to travel down to Labuanbajo for a wedding. Then the following Monday I fly out to Bali.

At the moment I am not sorry to leave, but I’m sure in time I will look back on this past eight months as some of the best of my life. I will forget the bad stuff (the boredom, the fear, the loneliness) and be able to focus on what I learnt (independence, patience, cultural understanding) and what I enjoyed (the coffee, the scenery, the research).

I will continue blogging, but I guess I wont be your Flores Correspondent any longer. I haven’t thought of a new name for the blog yet, so let me know if you have any ideas.

Just here to do a job (part 2)

2007-06-13T04:06:00.000+01:00

The research is finished, written up and submitted, ready to have an impact at an international level. But all along the problem has been how it can impact at a local level. My Indonesian is improving, but it would be a long time before I could personally present the research back to the community. My research team haven’t been paid for the last two months, so I can’t really expect them to do it either. The one forum that seemed appropriate with the time and resources I have left was a seminar of local NGOs, government staff and health workers held earlier this week. Working with the one member of my team who still turns up at the office I wrote a presentation, but now I wonder why I bother.

I’ve been to seminars here before, I should have known how it would go, but my naivety, my optimism about the importance of the research (and probably my fortnight in Bali) made me think that this time it would be different. But of course it wasn’t.

The seminar started an hour late (more or less early in Indonesian terms). Following the welcome & introductions the head of the region was first to speak. Now the general rule seems to be that the head of the region has to talk for twice as long as anyone who has spoken before him, so in this case he rambled on for about an hour. This puts us two hours behind schedule before the presentations have even begun. It was therefore an hour into the lunch break before my colleague was called up to present, and was requested to reduce our already slim presentation into 10 minutes.

At the best of times, the audience at these sorts of events is fickle. It is perfectly acceptable during presentations to wander in and out of the room, hold private (or even large group) discussions, and make or receive phone calls, oh, and if you are male you can (and should) smoke. So in the pre (or more accurately, during) lunch slot, it is fair to say that the audience was less than attentive.

So, on the whole, I think my research will have a limited impact at a local level. Maybe that is my fault; maybe it is a cultural difference. But to be honest, (and I know this may induce some angry comments) I’ve done the job I came here to do, and I think I have done it well. Now it is up to those who live & work here permanently to utilise the research and impact at a level I just cannot reach.

Ready to go

2007-06-11T06:46:00.000+01:00

Well I made it back to Ruteng at last, but I’m not happy about it. Coming back has made me realise how ready I am to leave this place. The boredom in the house and the hassle outside of it have always been hard for me to cope with, but it feels all the worse after having spent so much time away. I was always happier here (and maybe anywhere) when I had work to do, but now that has finished I am counting down the days till I can leave.

It’s hard to share these feelings with anyone else. My friends and colleagues in Ruteng have never (will never) understood why life is so hard for me here & what I gave up to do this. Ruteng is their city and they cannot possibly understand the different world I came from and miss so much. Zoe is of course supportive but it seems unfair to complain to her about getting through another two weeks when she has another two years – she is struggling enough with her own decision to stay.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a home / job / life that I’ve been so ready to give up so quickly, but I feel I’ve done what I needed to do here – both personally & professionally – and now it’s time to go. The list of things I’ll miss wont be long, but the list of things I’ve learnt, about myself & about other people, will be, but I’ll save that for another day. The highs and lows here have been immense, I just hope that I can snap out of this negativity soon so I can leave on a high.

Naughty but nice

2007-06-08T07:48:00.000+01:00

I guess its been a while since my last blog post & you may have been wondering why... Well firstly, Indonesia has become 'normal' to me, so it's hard now days to find things to write about. Secondly, I've been spending quite a lot of time in Bali.

I travelled to Bali with Zoe 2 weeks ago in order to hold her hand while she had some medical tests. I was supposed to return to Flores after 3 days, but I'm still here! Now this is certainly a bit naughty, I used up my holiday allowance going to Thailand last month. But on the other hand I have utilised the faster & more reliable internet connection to finish & submit my research report.

So what has kept me in Bali so long? It is nice here, but I do keep meaning to leave, it's just that things keep cropping up. I've changed my flight 3 times! The first time was to stay with Zoe whilst she underwent more tests. The second was a public holiday in Flores (why go back to sit at home alone?) and this last time it was a man.

Just when I was getting into the swing of being an independant woman I meet this guy who ticks all my boxes, & the feeling seems to be mutual. We had an amazing time for 5 days, but now he's gone & it's unlikely our paths will cross again unless we make them.

So now I don't know what to do. Would it be crazy to chase what could just have been a 'Bali thing'? Or would it be crazy to miss this opportunity to find out if it really could be something more? It'd be naughty... but it would be nice.

Head up

2007-05-22T08:42:00.000+01:00

These days I hold my head a little higher around Ruteng. Maybe I receive a little less attention than I used to, or maybe I am just better at ignoring it. Or maybe by holding my head higher, by feeling more confident, I look less vulnerable, less like a wary tourist and this has reduced the attention I was so nervous of before (this was certainly the case in Bali, where I received far less hassle from the hawkers on my last visit than when I first arrived 7 months ago).

So I am coping better, but all the same there are still a lot of people who shout, point & stare as I pass. It makes me feel like a freak, and I know that what is so shocking / amazing / scary is my white skin. A debate I commonly have, both with Zoe & my Indonesian friends is whether this is racist. The attention is not malicious, but I am being judged by my skin colour & it makes me uncomfortable… I feel that this experience has, on some level, given me an insight into what life might be like for ethnic minorities back home in the UK.

So on this level I am quite looking forward to going to Australia; to no longer being in the minority. But maybe I will miss the attention a little too. I am certain that unless I become famous (& I can’t imagine under what circumstances that might occur) I will never experience reactions like this again. But that is fine by me, in this respect at least, I think I prefer the quiet life.

Sudah

2007-05-15T15:57:00.000+01:00

It turns out that my previous post was a little premature (or maybe the opposite of premature…) basically my time here is up already (sudah in Bahasa Indonesia). The project I have been working on for the past six months submits its final report on the 1st of June, & after that I have no more work here in Indonesia. I will spend a little time disseminating, but basically I’m out-a-here.

So it turns out that half way was in fact in February, & instead of ruminating on how I will cope for the next six months I am instead planning an exit strategy & contemplating my return to the western world. I don’t need to return to my job in England until November the 1st, so I plan to stick around in the southern hemisphere a while longer (most likely Australia).

And how do I feel about this? Well, mixed emotions to be honest. I will be sad to leave Indonesia (didn’t think I’d be saying that), and very sad to be leaving Zoe. I will also miss that strange feeling of worthiness that I allow myself to indulge in when I tell the occasional travelers that pass through that I live in Indonesia as a volunteer doing this really hard job in a village where there are few other white people and few basic amenities. I will however be returning to a land with sit-down toilets, cheese, a constant supply of water & electricity, & pavements that permit the wearing of ridiculously high heels.

I have wondered a number of times since I’ve been here whether I should have simply traveled all along, and that for me accepting a job with an INGO was an easier route. I know that may sound strange, but regardless of what I have said or thought about VSO, they are a support network & you don’t get in-country-briefings or lessons in cultural adaptation when you travel alone. So independently traveling for the next couple of months is, for me, as large (if different) a challenge as coming to live in Flores was. Thailand was a bit of a dry run for it, so I’m optimistic & hope that I continue to learn new things and continue to appreciate what I have in the next stage of my adventure.

Half way May

2007-05-09T11:22:00.000+01:00

The month of May marks the halfway point in my year long adventure in Indonesia, so it seems like a good point to reflect on how I now feel about living here.

Certainly the homesickness has passed. Although there are still many things I miss from England, the yearning hurts less & there are things here that I appreciate more. I still miss my duvet, my high hells & my friends, but I like living with less, relying on myself more & meeting new people with such different perspectives on life. I think the biggest challenge has been the boredom - these last few weeks have confirmed that I still have a lot of partying left in me & Ruteng is not a good place to do it (apologies to the mop & broom)!

Work-wise, my project has been interesting & I hope it will make an impact. I think the challenges of working with my Indonesian colleagues (primarily language & cultural) have enabled me to explain things more clearly & taught me to make fewer assumptions.

Culturally I have learned a lot too. I am not saying I know or understand all about the culture here (or ever will), but it's been a privilege to observe the differences (& the similarities) between the way I am used to living my life & the way my Indonesian friends do.

So at this halfway point I guess I feel content. It is hard & it is different from the life I am used to - but then that is what is was always supposed to be. Someone asked me the other day if I'd do it again, & I think I probably would. But I would definitely think about it very carefully. I'm more aware now of what my needs are. The first three months are so hard that the time after that really would have to be fulfilling enough to justify going through that again.

Past, present & future

2007-05-07T09:57:00.000+01:00

While I was traveling in Thailand I often found myself living in the future, planning what to do & where to stay the next day. But now I'm back in Flores I find I am living in the past, day-dreaming about the crazy nights & the peaceful days I spent in Thailand & Bali. I guess it's a kinda post-holiday-blues, but it's strange to feel it whilst I am still in such a beautiful country.

I suffered this type of constant reminiscence during my first few months in Flores too, remembering good times & good friends from England... it took a long time to get over it & I hope it's not so bad this time.

So how does one live in the present? A guy I met in Thailand said that living in the present is one of the true forms of happiness (a Buddhist sentiment I think). But it's hard; the past & the future seem like much more appealing places to spend time, especially when the present is so challenging.

The loneliness of the long distance traveler

2007-04-26T15:10:00.000+01:00

I didn't choose to holiday in Thailand on my own. I was supposed to meet a friend from England, but the friend canceled at the last minute & I was left with a return flight to Bangkok & 2 weeks to fill alone.

It might seem strange that I was apprehensive about holidaying alone, after all I went to Indonesia alone. But in Indonesia I have my work, I have a year in which to make friends, & I have Zoe (although I didn't know that before I set off). I fly home (to Indonesia that is) tomorrow, so how did I find it?

On the whole it was great – a liberating experience from which I have learned a lot. The lack of compromise has been the best & the worst part. I have been able to do what I want, when I want. But I do wonder what I missed out on by not having someone else to suggest I try something or somewhere different. Admittedly there were also times when it was a bit lonely. It was strange being invisible to waiters & bar staff after being so harassed in Indonesia. I blamed the invisibility on being on my own (smaller bill, less tip etc.) but it may just be the Thai culture.

I can't actually say much about Thai culture because I've spent the majority of my time on tourist centered islands surrounded by Westerners (guess I haven't seen the 'real' Thailand!). But maybe I have learned something about Western culture instead (or at least those Westerners who like to leave the West). Everyone I have met has been really friendly – maybe not friends for life, but certainly a range of interesting people with an interest in life. And you can't ask for more than that.

Water world

2007-04-21T08:06:00.000+01:00

I am now half-way through my Thailand adventure & I've spent the majority of my time on a small island in the southeast called Kho Tao. It's a very pretty place - your typical island paradise... palm trees, white sandy beaches, clear warm water - but to be honest I haven't seen much of it. Not because copious late night revelling has kept me holed up in my bungalow all day (although admitedly there has been a little of that) but because I've been spending most of my time underwater.

I have learned to dive, First I took the PADI open water course, but by the time you read this I will be a PADI advanced open water diver, and I'm loving it. The equipment gives you total reign over your environment: you are moving around a 3D world - you not only have forward & backward at your disposal, but also up, down, upside-down etc. I imagine it's what it would feel like if you could fly!

And as if this wasn't enough, the aqutic wildlife is amazing. The brightly coloured tropical fish makes you feel like you are swimming in an aquarium & the coral and aquatic plants are like nothing you've ever seen on dry land: mad colours and mad shapes!

I probably will move on from Kho Tao in the next day or two, but although I will be leaving the island I will definately still be diving!

Water, water everywhere (literally this time!)

2007-04-18T14:42:00.000+01:00

My trip to Thailand started last week in Bangkok & coincided with the Songkran national holiday. Songkran is a water festival to celebrate the new lunar year. I was staying on the Kho San Road - a pretty busy place at the best of times, but during Songkran it was manic! Imagine the Nottinghill Carnival taking place on Carnaby Street & all the revellers armed with water pistols! Added to this watery mayhem are buckets of flour/talcum powder paste which people smear over fellow revellers, passers by & anything else that moves! No one is immune, but it all takes place with the utmost goodwill & friendliness. It seems the Thai people really know how to have a good time!

I have been wondering if this type of festival could happen anywhere else... Indonesia could certainly do with an event this jovial, but I think the people are too reserved. In England it might be a little too cold & I imagine that all too quickly it would turn violent. It's sad that I should make these assumptions - maybe you disagree?

The real Indonesia

2007-04-13T04:08:00.000+01:00

The travellers I occassionally meet in Flores often say they are there in search of 'the real Indonesia'. But what makes Flores more real than say Java, or Bali?

I was pretty hard on Bali last time I was here - maybe I was looking for the 'real' Indonesia too. But not I am back, just staying one night on route to Thailand, & I like it much more now.

The things I complained about last time don't seem such a big deal - the traffic doesn't seem so crazy (at least it has 4 wheels); the hawkers don't seem so intrusive (at least they are trying to make a living, not just randomly shouting English words at you); and the crowds... well to be honest I now quite like seeing so many people from so many countries just looking for a bit of fun. Oh, & of course I also now like Bali because it has the shops, bars & restaurants I've been deprived of for so long!

So is Bali any less 'real' than Flores? Well if 'real' means poverty, rice three times a day and no hot water, then yes, it is. But I now know that, at least for me, reality is more than that.

New eyes

2007-04-05T03:48:00.000+01:00

Last week Kathryn, a friend from England, came to visit me in Flores. Kathryn has herself lived in Indonesia (in fact, on some level, it’s because of her that I’m here!), so it was great to discover her impressions of Flores and see my home here through her eyes.

Kathryn’s time in Indonesia was mainly spent in Aceh – a Muslim area in the western corner of Indonesia. So I think for her Flores – a Catholic area in eastern Indonesia – was almost like visiting a completely different country. She seemed impressed with the beautiful mountainous topography and cool climate, shocked by the visible poverty, fascinated by the Catholic iconography, and confused by the correct way to dress (Aceh is ruled by sharia law so for her the decision to cover shoulder to ankle was clear cut, Flores cultural mores are more subtle & I think she was concerned that my beachwear in Labuanbajo was a little risqué). But all the same, the language was still Indonesian (and her bahasa was far better than mine will ever be) and I was, perhaps for the first time, proud of my new hometown of Ruteng.

shocking beachwear!

Next week I take a break from Indonesia. I am taking a couple of weeks holiday & am going to visit Thailand. I think / hope that this Asian country (which is actually closer to Flores than Aceh is) will give me a new view on Asian culture and perhaps even a new view on Flores when I return. I am taking the trip on my own, so I guess it may also give me a new view on myself – a chance to see how my confidence has developed over these last months.

But before I leave I must finish the first draft of my research report. I have been working solidly on it for weeks and it is getting to the stage where it could do with a fresh pair of eyes, so give me a shout if you are willing to donate yours!

God, the bad, and the ugly

2007-03-29T08:09:00.000+01:00

I have never been so aware of Easter as a religious holiday. For me, Easter is usually a long weekend off work and excess chocolate. But here on the Catholic island of Flores it is the highlight of the religious calendar. Although still a week away, the church has been staging special events, for example on Palm Sunday they flew in a Korean girl with stigmata.

I have never lived in a Catholic community before, and find some of its paradox’s confusing. The religious leaders (nuns and priests as well as the bishop) are clearly the wealthiest people in the area. Their homes and offices are always made of brick, often having two stories, and rumours has it that one of the priest houses even has a washing machine & tumble dryer – unimaginable luxury. But directly or indirectly is this not all paid for by the poorest people when they put their wages in the collection bowl? I guess everywhere in the world it is true that organised religion is rich – the Church of England is still the biggest land owner in my own country – but here it is the contrast that is striking. The church and its ‘employees’ have so much and it sits right next to, and is provided by, people who have so little.

But despite, or maybe because of this, the people are devout: peoples houses are full of Catholic icons; the cathedral is always busy; and many young men and women train to be priests and nuns (well who wouldn’t want to join this privileged section of society). However, in times of crisis their Catholic faith seems often to sit beside an older, more traditional culture of animism. My friend’s pregnant sister went into labour this week, it is proving to be difficult and her family are all by her bedside praying. But at the same time they believe that the difficult birth is due to black magic – someone has placed a spell on the pregnant woman and now the baby cannot get out. So alongside modern medicine and organised religion is tradition, and it is fascinating for a sceptic like myself to observe peoples simultaneous and unquestioning faith in all three.

Fake plastic flowers

2007-03-26T15:15:00.000+01:00

Last week Mike, a VSO volunteer based in Java, visited Ruteng. He has been here before & is quite well aquatinted with the people and the geography of the area. So I was surprised when having offered to cook Zoe & I dinner all he could produce was a pancake.

Now this was not a reflection on his cooking abilities (well, to be honest I don’t know about that, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt) but, as he explained, a reflection on the ingredients available in Ruteng. Apparently he had gone to the ‘supermarket’ expecting to be able to buy vegetables – fresh or frozen – and couldn’t. Well of course he couldn’t, it is quite normal to me now that the ‘supermarket’ doesn’t sell any kind of fresh produce – there is not a constant enough electricity supply to keep products cold or fresh. So most things are canned (meat, fish, some fruit & veg), dried (mushrooms, noodles, fish) or in instant-just-add-water packages (noodles, pasta, rice). If I spot a western item (tonic-water, baked-beans, corn flakes) I bulk buy, ‘cause next time I go it won’t be there.

Having got the hang of what is and isn’t available in the ‘supermarket’, I have started venturing into other shops. It is often difficult to tell from the outside what type of thing a shop sells, and frequently they will sell a confusing range of items. For example the ‘bakers’ also does a good range in computer equipment & women’s handbags, whilst the religious icon shop seems to make a nice profit out of selling mobile phone top-up.

On the other hand, there are one or two specialist shops. My favourite is the plastic-flower florist (people don’t keep houseplants inside the house, only stylised collections of undeniably plastic flowers), I haven’t checked but maybe they also do a nice line in plastic fruit, now that really would confuse the visitors!

The plastic-flower florist, Ruteng

What’s in a blog? (part 2)

2007-03-21T09:53:00.000Z

This week I have been reading ‘Letters From the Field 1925-1875’ by Margaret Mead. I have long been a fan of Mead, but realised I have never directly read any of her work. This book consists of letters she wrote whilst conducting her anthropological fieldwork in the western pacific, including Bali, so many of the descriptions are familiar – in fact there is one description of rice paddies that is spookily similar to my own (see black, white & green all over).

Mead’s letters were written with a similar rational to my writing also (although I admit to not feeling, or wanting to feel quite as ‘immersed’ as she does). In her introduction she writes:

Letters written & received in the field have a very special significance. Immersing oneself in life in the field is good, but one must be careful not to drown. One must somehow maintain the delicate balance between empathetic participation and self-awareness… letters can be a way of occasionally righting the balance as, for an hour or two, one relates oneself to people who are part of one’s other world and tries to make a little more real for them this world which absorbs one.

Most interestingly though was the audience Mead was writing for. She wrote just one letter & sent it to her friends, family and colleagues so that they would be able to ‘share somehow in what happened so that, when I came home, they would know me better, not as a stranger but as myself’. But these letters were copied and circulated to friends of friends, as Mead puts it ‘unknown readers who were close to people who were close to me – an audience one step removed from intimacy’. This strikes me as very much like a blog, like this blog.

The modern day blog however is in some ways more intimate. The speed of modern communications means that I can ‘relate myself’ and the ‘people who are part of one’s other world’ can read it almost instantaneously. Correspondingly, ‘people who are part of one’s other world’ can respond instantaneously – leaving comments, asking questions, discussing together the experiences I am reporting. I think anthropologically Mead would have appreciated this grounding (she died in 1978, before the advent of such travellers luxuries as the World Wide Web), as I do. So please continue to post comments, letting me know who my audience is & what you would like to know… helping me not to drown.

Disaster tourist

2007-03-19T10:30:00.000Z

Everything in Manggarai is defined by the contours of the land – the roads, the fields, and the people’s lifestyles. Now this is scarred, both literally & metaphorically. Today I went out to see some of the villages affected by the landslide – all along the road there was evidence of recent landslides varying from small crumbling cliffs to huge gashes in the mountainside. In the worst affected village there were huge gaps were houses used to be & the people spoke of the gaps in their lives where their loved-ones used to be.

Last week, the president of Indonesia also visited the affected area, although he didn’t go as far as the affected villages he just met with the villagers who were to afraid to return to their homes. Actually, that is not quite true – the rains had stopped a few days before the president arrived & the villagers were eager to return to there villages but were told not to so the president could see ‘all the homeless people’. A further irony of the president’s visit was that a number of trees had to be cut down so his helicopter could land (remembering a primary cause of the landslides was deforestation!).

The president’s visit must have cost a lot of money, there were many people involved and high levels of security. He donated around a million dollars, but it was felt to be too little too late (or, perhaps more worryingly in this corrupt country too much too late). But was my visit really any better? I went with a local group to distribute money & clothing, but all the same I couldn’t help but feel like a disaster tourist. The group gave me a free combat-style jacket and hat, a free lunch, a free ride & all I really contributed was a white face & a sympathetic smile. I don’t know if this makes my visit any better or any worse than the president’s, but I do know that both leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

me & three other vols wearing our freebies

the scar on the mountain

a temporary grave

I don’t like bananas

2007-03-14T14:25:00.000Z

I was a little bit disappointed that none of my friends from home commented on the previous post that I don’t like bananas. Never mind I will take the initiative myself.

It is certainly true that in England I did not (do not?) like bananas. But here there is little other choice of fruit at the moment (the mango season has finished). But although there is no choice of fruit, there is a choice of bananas.

As opposed to the single fruit we have in England called ‘banana’, here there are hundreds of varieties, all tasting a little bit different or having a different recommended way of eating. As well as the ‘normal’ yellow ones there are red ones, green ones, huge ones (as big as your arm) and tiny ones (no larger than your thumb). There are ones that make your teeth feel funny (in a kind of rhubarb way), and ones that can not be eaten raw (not sure what happens if you do). My favourites are the sweetest ones!

Beyond this there are different ways of serving them that makes them more appetising. A favourite snack in Ruteng in pisang gorang – fried bananas. These are bananas sliced lengthways, covered in batter & deep-fat-fried, preferably served hot. Another option is bananas and custard (although maybe it’s just the bule who like this!) And if all else fails, you can always dip them in chocolate spread!

bananas on the tree

bananas by the road

bananas in the market

How to ask questions

2007-03-09T11:08:00.000Z

Me: Saya mou beli buah (I would like to buy some fruit)
Shopkeeper: buah tida ada (fruit doesn’t exist)
Me: Ok, ada apel? (Ok, do you have any apples?)
Shopkeeper: tidak ada apels (apples don’t exist)
Me: ada jeruk? (do oranges exist?)
Shopkeeper: ya, ada juruk (yes oranges exist)
Me: apa lagi (anything else?)
Shopkeeper: pisang (bananas)
Me: ok, saya minta pisang? (ok, may I have bananas?)
Shopkeeper: ya (yes)

That is an attempt at an amusing example of the difficulty of asking questions here. It’s not that people lie (although it can feel like it sometimes) but that you have to be able to ask the right questions.

It happens in every walk of life – the problem is not too serious when buying bananas, but is more difficult in working life (“have you done X” “ya” – but three days later you find out they haven’t). And in research it is impossible.

My research used four methodologies: participatory problem analysis; case studies; focus groups; and interviews. Until now, I have been working with the preliminary analysis based on feed-back and discussions with the colleagues who conducted the fieldwork. But over this past week I have been analysing the interview data in more detail, and this presents a totally different picture to the one my colleagues painted. Whereas my colleagues said gender was a real issue (women need men’s permission to seek healthcare), the data doesn’t actually support this.

People here don’t respond well to open ended questions. They seem only to tell you what you want to hear, so the interviewees may have told the interviewers what they thought was the ‘right’ answer. Or maybe the anomaly in the results is that the fieldworkers have brought their own biases and opinions to their analysis (i.e. they were telling me what they thought were the ‘right’ answers). My head tells me to work with the data that I’ve got, but my heart tells me to listen to my colleagues. I wish I could find an answer to this problem, but I just can’t ask the right question.

Pathetic

2007-03-07T07:33:00.000Z

Pathetic fallacy, for you non-literary types, is a device used in fiction to show that the environment is sympathetic to the protagonist (or vice versa), for example try reading any Thomas Hardy novel. Anyway, the situation here is very pathetic – the bad weather continues & the people are miserable and homeless. There have not been anymore landslides, although it is a risk (or maybe it is like one of those penny-shove machines in an amusement arcade, where anything likely to fall has done so and the mounds just teeter on the edge to tease us). But there are now thousands of displaced people and relief workers are still trying to get help to the most remote areas.

My organisation is involved in the relief effort, and my boss asked me the other day why it is that the worst disasters always happen to the poorest people. This is a wicked irony. The riskiest areas to live in are populated by the poorest people, both at a national level and at a local one (drought in Ethiopia, seismic activity in NTT, floods in New Orleans). Land is cheap when it is dangerous.

Furthermore, when disasters do occur to poor people they are less able to help themselves, and other people are less willing to help them too. After all what is there of value to save? They have no industry, no commerce; there is no military significance. The only valuable thing to these people is there lives. But it seems that that is not enough. Pathetic.

The bodies

The villages

The homeless

Rain, rain, go away

2007-03-03T14:51:00.000Z

One thing I forgot to mention the other day when I was moaning about how bored I get here was that my mood was somewhat precipitated by the fact that it’s been raining constantly for days. Not rain in the pissy drizzle style of an English winter, but full blown, nonstop monsoon downpours.

The rain is so heavy it makes it impossible to leave the house, difficult to hear music or the TV (the metal roof really amplifies what is already a tad more than ‘rain drops falling on my head’), and generally thoroughly depressing to be in Ruteng. I do wonder what suicide rates are like here during the rainy season, but as this is a Catholic region there are, of course, no suicides (they must be hanging out with the gays & the women who have abortions in some Western country far from here!)

Therefore it came as no surprise, but was shocking none the less that there has been a devastating landslide nearby. I first heard about it from a friend in England (don’t you just love the way news travels, but I’ve covered that before) but it was soon backed up by local gossip suggesting that 70 people have been killed. Reports are still hazy, the BBC say 40 dead, whilsy the Jakarta Post say 27 dead and 65 missing. I guess it takes a while to clarify details in this type of disaster.

map of the Manggarai region... I am in Ruteng, the worst of the landslides occured in Cibal

I am, of course, fine – thanks to all of you who saw the news & texted to check on me. But what really strikes me in this land of disasters is the futility of it all. It may sound nasty but it really feels sometimes like they invite catastrophe… the treacherously winding roads (no Romans here!), the annual rains that cause annual landslides, or my personal favorite – the recent case of journalists & investigators who boarded the wreck of a recently burnt out ferry, only for it to promptly (and apparently surprisingly) sink. At the time an official from the rescue services was quoted as saying "we just didn't expect it to happen", but strangely that has disapeared off all news websites now, but you can get the gist on the BBC (Indonesian ferry suddenly sinks).

I can’t help wondering why Indonesian officials cannot learn lessons from these annual disasters. I don’t mean glib English style inquiries, but simple common sense actions – wearing crash helmets on motorbikes, town planning laws, or even just counting the number of people who board a ship before it sails. In a country this big is life really so cheap?

Bored

2007-03-01T05:20:00.000Z

Now I am starting to settle down here, I am finding that one of my biggest frustration is boredom. The boredom occurs on many levels:

the food is boring - why on earth does anyone choose to eat rice three times a day
my clothes are boring - remember the Conservative tea-party look?
I’m reluctant to say my job is boring, but in many ways it is - although the research is interesting I'd prefer to have more than one project on the go at once
and of course there is no entertainment - I don’t have tv or radio, and you will remember that Ruteng has a distinct lack of fun places to go. The entertainment that I do have, books and dvds, are rationed in fear that one-day soon I will run out.

Zoe & I have taken to whinging ‘I’m bored’ like tiresome spoilt children as we wonder listlessly around the house. A good example of our level of despair is that this week's highlight was a party at a home for retired priest’s!

Worse however is that I find the boredom self-perpetuating – it drains me of enthusiasm or drive to do anything other than being bored. I have so much free time here, but the despondency born out of boredom turns a viscous circle and I just feel guilty and lethargic.

Writing this I have tried to think what I would do in the UK if I were bored – probably just turn the TV on & forget about it, letting mind-numbing trashy programmes wash over me. So maybe it’s a good lesson to recognise these feelings, and maybe now I will do something about them… or maybe I'll start tomorrow!

Life & death in Flores

2007-02-26T10:29:00.000Z

This last week I have been at a VSO health conference in Ende in the south of Flores. Around 20 representatives from local NGOs and government health services met with VSO staff from Bali and the four other health volunteers.

For me, one of the most interesting discussions was about the use of traditional medicines. This wasn’t actually a discussion in the conference… it was taken for granted by all of the participants that traditional medicines are a perfectly appropriate method to deal with most medical conditions. However I raised the question with fellow volunteers whether they agreed with this, and on the whole, they did.

making traditional medicine

I argued with them that although I appreciate traditional medicines are better than no medicines, as western medical practitioners their first response should always be to refer people to the appropriate medical service. They responded that traditional medicines, in many cases, are just as effective as clinically tested medicines and patients can not / will not attend government health services (for a range of reasons including the cost of transport to reach health services and then the cost of medicines and health care once they get there).

I understand the need to be sympathetic to traditional beliefs and that there are factors that prohibit people from taking these courses, but is it not our responsibility to advocate them all the same? Do you change a system by jumping in feet first and condemning existing knowledge, or is it more effective to condone this knowledge in a softly-softly approach even if it does lead to mixed messages in the short term? I don’t know the answer, and it is something I am going to have to get to grips with in order to provide recommendations from my research.

The conference may have been more interesting for me if we had have been able to discuss this with all the participants, as it was my greatest learning from the week occurred on the journey to Ende.

Just an hour outside of Ruteng the bus I was on had a crash. I was sat at the front and witnessed a motorbike coming towards us loose control on a corner and skid across the road. There was nowhere for the bus to go. I covered my eyes with my hands but it didn’t stop me hearing the thump and then feeling the impact as the bus went over the motorcyclist. No-one on the bus was hurt but the motorcyclist was killed.

Horrific as this was, perhaps the thing that impacted on me most was that there was no ambulance, no police, no witness statements. I just got on another bus & continued my journey.

Teenage kicks

2007-02-15T09:56:00.000Z

As I mentioned in my last post, I am starting to make friends in Ruteng. These guys are all about my age, but you wouldn’t know it. They live with their parents, they rarely work, and of an evening they hangout at each others houses or all pile into a car and cruise around town – you would think they were 17 not 27.

I felt this most strongly on Valentines Day. My friends had a party – on the surface this was quite cool, there was party food, a bar, and dancing. But it was (as ever here) quite a surreal experience. Rather than buffet style food that one could pick at as they got slowly inebriated there was proper sit down food (well I guess it would be hard to stand & eat rice with your fingers off a paper plate!). Oh & we couldn’t eat it until the priest (yes the priest came too) had led us all in prayer. The bar, looked the part with an array of spirits & liquors, but it turned out that these were actually just old bottles filled with coke or lemonade!

The strangest thing though was the dancing. It was true school disco (& I don’t mean the Camden club). Everyone sat round the edge of the room, boys on one-side, girls on the other. The boys (men?) would then approach a girl (woman?) and ask her to dance. For upbeat songs, the dancing was conducted in two rather neat rows (boys on one side, girls on the other) with a good foot between them. For slower songs or ones that could be walced to there was more formal (Come Dancing) style moves. Every now & then there was a traditional Manggarai dance, which is kinda like line dancing (or perhaps the English version would be the birdy song!).

But perhaps the main difference between this and the teenage parties I remember is the lack of embarrassment on behalf of the guys – all felt confident asking a partner to dance – there was no social misfit maliciously left out. Also the dancing was very restrained & non-sexual. Oh, & of course there was no snogging at the end of the night!

What this really makes apparent is the third age that we now have in England – the ‘twenty-something-agers’. Rather than moving straight from a teenage mentality to the adult responsibilities of getting married and having a family (as perhaps my parents or my grandparents generation did) I have time to be an adult & enjoy it. Time where I have a disposable income and disposable commitments. A time when financially I can afford to have fun and society permits me to have it. Things here are entertaining, but perhaps if the twenty-something-agers had the freedom I have in England, they would be just that little bit more fun!

the 'bar'

traditional dancing

partner dancing

With friends like these…

2007-02-14T04:37:00.000Z

One of my reasons for leaving England to work abroad was to prove to myself (& maybe to others) that I could do this alone; that I could be self-sufficient; ‘me time’ to use American talk-show phraseology. So on one level I was a little disappointed when I found out that Zoe, a fellow VSO volunteer was not only going to be working with me but living with me – how could I prove myself if there was always someone else to share the burden?

Well I realise now that being alone wasn’t really my aim – at this level I proved myself when alone I boarded that plane from Heathrow back in November. But since then I have never been alone, in fact rather than being a lesson in self-sufficiency, this experience is turning into a lesson in friendship.

Firstly of course there is Zoe. Living & working with Zoe I have become part of a couple again! Flippantly I could say I couldn’t have done it without her, but probably I could, the more important point is that now I wouldn’t want to.

Zoe & I

Then there are all my friends back in England – the ones who phone & text, the ones who post books & chocolate, the ones who email, & you guys who read & respond to my blog.

Receiving post

Also now I am starting to make friends in Ruteng. This is tricky as my language is not good & it feels like I am constantly calling on them for help – but they don’t seem to mind & I guess that is where friendship starts.

new friends in Ruteng

But the one place I feel I am not receiving friendship & support is from VSO Indonesia. VSO is proud that it doesn’t nanny it’s volunteers (like the US equivalent – Peace Core – is alleged to do by the bitchy NGO in-crowd). But I think I would like a bit more support (not much, just perhaps a monthly phone-call, and a friendly welcome when I go to their office) and I have told them so. VSO is a huge organisation, and so like all other large businesses has a baffling amount of procedures and protocol that seem specifically designed to make my life hard. My friend Michael left a comment on my blog last week telling me that the VSO link from my page was going through to Vermont Symphony Orchestra (oops!). But sometimes I feel would get more help & support if I were sponsored by them instead!

Black, white & green all over

2007-02-08T14:42:00.000Z

They say that England is a land of green rolling hills – well whoever said that had never seen the highlands of Flores. The colours are amazing. In the far distance the mountaintops are covered in dark green trees, and in the foreground invariably there are rice paddies. The rice is grown in small patches so there is always some to plant and some to harvest at any given time. The youngest rice is a pale yellowy green and sparsely planted letting the water beneath reflect the blue skies, whilst the full grown rice tightly fills the paddies with the brightest neon green. This plethora of colour is reflected in the water the rice grows in & makes the whole vista shimmer & shine like a leprechaun attached to the national grid.

Speaking of leprechaun, I saw the end of the rainbow the other day! Driving alongside a gorge a huge rainbow filled the sky and swept down into the gorge & I could actually pinpoint where it ended. Amazing.

Colour is also important to the people here, but not in such vivid tones. The local weaving (ikat) is dark with just the odd splash of colour. But more importantly to them, it seems, is the colour of skin. As a white person, I am a bulai (meaning albino) and my friends and colleagues are most concerned when I get a suntan (“why do you do that to your lovely white skin”). In fact white skin is the grail here & the people take many measures to achieve it from skin whitening moisturisers to skin bleaching. Indonesians on other islands can regularly be heard to say that the people of Flores are “very black”, and even within Flores individuals will often be described as “the black one”. I am not sure if this is racist – it certainly isn’t spoken or taken as a negative – but grouping people by the colour of their skin is surely a bad habit that needs to stop.

Cock Hoppers

2007-02-06T10:33:00.000Z

Flores lies across the Wallace Line, meaning that the island’s topography, flora and fauna is more similar to Australia than the rest of Asia. However there are no kangaroos here, no large mammals at all in fact. In some of the lower lying areas there are monkeys, but up here in chilly old Ruteng the most exotic mammal you see is the odd stray dog (but someone’ll catch it & eat it soon!).

Technically then I guess the scary killer bugs of Australia should also be present in Flores, but I think (hope) that the altitude of Ruteng means that it is too cold for anything too nasty, I certainly haven’t been warned about any particular insects. However, I must admit that regardless of how dangerous they are, if they’ve got more than four legs I am not keen. On the whole I am coping well (& the spiders can be mighty big!) but my least favourite is an insect that Zoe and I have named ourselves. They look like a cross between a grasshopper & a cockroach, therefore if you come to Flores beware of the giant cockhoppers!

cockroach

grasshopper

cockhopper!

Sex and the city

2007-02-01T05:24:00.000Z

Before I left the UK, one of the things that my friend’s thought I would find hardest was dressing modestly. And now, 3 months in, I admit it is a strain.

Back in England I was well known for my love of stiletto shoes, I frequently wore low-cut figure hugging tops, was always accessorised, often made-up and I had an intimate relationship with my GHDs. But here I dress like I am going to a Young Conservatives’ tea party – flat shoes, baggy tops with a neck line up to my collarbone, no accessories, no makeup & no hair straighteners.

On the one hand I acknowledge that this is for the best – I get enough attention (& complements) as it is and certainly do not want to encourage more. But on the other hand I feel like I am loosing a little bit of myself… my heels gave me a bit of a swing in my step, I gained a certain confidence from flicking my straightened hair – here I go for days without looking in a mirror at all. Maybe this is a good lesson against narcissism, but I’ve had enough already.

This weekend Zoe and I are going to the beach, so as well as looking forward to the sun, sea and sand I am also looking forward to wearing a bikini and feeling (just a little bit) sexy.

The 'Ruteng look'

The 'beach look'

Ruteng is the city (part 2)

2007-01-30T05:43:00.000Z

The comments from those people that listened to ‘Ruteng is the City’ (the song that I mentioned on my blog last week) made me realise that I hadn’t really explained about the youth culture here. Well the simple answer is that there isn’t one – there are no bars or cafes, bowling alleys or cinemas, the list of what there isn’t is infinite: there is no where to meet and there’s nothing to do. This, in my opinion, is something that could do with changing!

However, the more complex answer is that of course there is a youth culture, it is just enacted in a very different (and somewhat less visual) way. This was brought sharply into focus last week when I attended a hip-hop concert. Yes really, I went to a hip-hop concert in Ruteng. I didn’t know how to approach this on the blog, what is really important to understand is how unusual this is (not just me going listening to hip-hop… not really my cup of tea, but beggars can’t be choosers)… Go back and read the first paragraph again – there is NO ENTERTAINMENT IN RUTENG – so the advent of a concert, & a hip-hop concert at that, was a surreal event.

The concert was organised to promote HIV/Aids awareness (remember the group with the synthetic penises?) It included break-dancing, beat-box, the winner of Indonesian Idol, and the act everyone was waiting for, Lipooz & The Ruteng Clan singing ‘Ruteng is the City’. This was all pleasant enough for a while… everyone sat nicely wearing their hoodies & sporting a fair amount of bling. But then the inevitable happened – the two bule were identified as the ‘most beautiful women in da house’ & dragged up on stage to dance with Lipooz.

By 10pm other people were dancing, but the atmosphere was slowly turning sour, a couple of small fights started, a few people were chucked out for being drunk, the ‘hello mistering’ was getting intense – I decided to leave. Maybe the same would have happened in the UK, but I couldn't help thinking that people had just got over excited. Entertainment is such a rarity here that people couldn’t contain themselves; didn’t know how to behave. This leads to a viscous circle of further events or venues being refused permission. Having thought on this for a while, my conclusion is that Ruteng needs a pub (for the good of the community obviously, not just me!)… maybe I’ll start a petition!

Ruteng is the city

2007-01-27T05:42:00.000Z

Thanks to my Dad’s suggestion, I thought I would provide you with a few more details of what I see & hear on a day-to-day basis. It’s a shame I can’t give you a sound-scape of Ruteng as the noise is one of the most perplexing aspects of living here, but instead you could download ‘Ruteng is the City’ (a song by a local artist that might make a nice bit of background listening!) from http://sarabi.multiply.com/music.

Although it may look like it from some of the pictures I have posted, Ruteng is not on the edge of a jungle – it is at the top of a mountain range, and to both the north and the south the sky-line is dominated by steep tree-lined hills. These are most visible in the morning, but as the clouds close in during the course of the day they become obscured although the peaks will occasionally poke through above the clouds. The volcanic soil is incredibly fertile & all the houses are surrounded by gardens growing corn, bananas and mangos.

The mountains to the south

The houses themselves are made of a variety of materials depending on the wealth of the owner: the most prosperous live in brick-built modern houses (like mine), those on an average income construct wooden houses, & the poorest live in the more traditional bamboo-weave houses. But regardless of wealth, all have a large sound system which blares out a range of traditional songs, reggae, and hip-hop. Generally houses are single story, but there are a few with two floors. Many houses have a small shop (kiosk) at the front. This is a common cottage industry here and they sell a range of products such as eggs, flour, and small sachets of shampoo.

A bamboo house in the foreground, a two storey wooden house in the background

The roads and pavements are in bad repair. Often there are large holes, or entire stretches of pavement missing & the incautious risk falling straight into the sewers! The most common form of transport is motorbike and all manner of things are carried on them – babies, crates of chickens, carpets- it is not unusual to see a whole family riding on one bike.

The only set of traffic lights in Ruteng

For public transport you can either take a motorbike taxi (ojec) or a bemo. Bemo’s are small vans with two benches in the back, and for a minimal cost they will take you door-to-door (although you may have to drop a number of other passengers off first). Bemo’s are one of the main causes of noise in town – to attract your attention they sound their horn at any pedestrian. This horn is customized to each bemo, some sound like a police siren, others like an ice-cream van, some are like wolf-whistles, whilst others are more like trains horns. On top of this there is always a young boy hanging out of the door shouting the bemo’s destination.

A bemo on the Trans-Flores Highway

To further confound this assault on the ears, all forms of transport sound their horn to make you aware of their presence. Because there appears to be no road laws (they don’t even particularly stick to driving on one side of the road) drivers beep at every junction and every time they overtake. This isn’t quite such an anarchic system as it sounds – my main concern is that I will get run over when I return to the UK as I ignore a car rushing towards me beeping!

The world of work

2007-01-26T03:10:00.000Z

In response to my request for topics for the blog ‘anonymous’ asked how my work is going; witty and eloquently (or not) I've put some ideas together below - I think I may also cover one or two of Kerry's (many) suggestions, but please keep the ideas coming.

Although my job was facilitated by VSO, I actually work for a local NGO called Yayasan Ayo Indonesia (literal translation: Come On Indonesia). It’s quite a small organisation – about 30 staff, mostly working in the field, and headed up by a really dynamic and enthusiastic leader. Historically, Ayo worked primarily in road and water infrastructure, but now they also have programmes in sustainable livelihoods, marketing, institutional capacity building, and health.

There are five of us in the research team; we get on well and the work is interesting. We are at the analysis stage now and finding that although the physical infrastructure of the roads, transport systems and medical facilities is a barrier to women’s health, the biggest barrier is men. Culturally, women are not allowed to make decisions – including decisions about their own health care needs. So having to ask their husbands (or in the case of widows, their late husbands family) permission to seek treatment is a potentially fatal problem.

The next step is to write the report, and this is where my biggest problem lies. The report needs to be written in English – easy enough for me, I’ve written and published plenty of reports in English, but VSO is about “sharing skills”. How do I share the skill of writing a report in English with four Indonesians who despite speaking pretty good English will never be able to write an academic style paper in the language? If they do write sections I will just end up heavily editing them which would be disheartening for all involved. They could do the appendices – the graphs, tables and photos – but that still isn’t really sharing properly.

I think this is the reality of the theoretical problem I posed in an earlier post (just here to do a job)… I could just do the job (write the report myself), or I could work to the greater good (somehow facilitate my Indonesian colleagues in writing it). I still haven’t figured out what to do – answers on a postcard please!

Answers (part 2)

2007-01-25T03:59:00.000Z

Well it’s over two months now, & I am starting to feel a little more at home, but at the same time a little more homesick. I have, on the whole, got over (or got around) missing the material things I craved last month (I’ve bought a kind of duvet to replace the wool blanket, I brought cheese back from Lombok, I’m even growing quite fond of a pair of flat denim ballet shoes!). The things I miss now are more cultural – a glass of red wine in the pub after work; a night out dancing in Windsor; having more than one friend!

On the other hand though I am adapting to my new circumstances – I get ‘hello mistered’ less (or ignore it more); I know where to buy bread, milk, mayonnaise; and I am starting to understand (if not ably communicate in) Bahasa.

But this poses a bit of a problem for the blog… as things become more ‘normal’ what can I write about? It no longer seems strange to me that you can buy green bread, or that I ride a motorbike side-saddle, or that there is no right of way when driving! So let me know through the comment button what you would like to know about & I will compose eloquent witty blogs in response (well eloquent & witty might be a bit optimistic – but I’ll write something anyway!)

The perils of Indonesia

2007-01-22T08:00:00.000Z

Last night I received a text from my brother “r u alright? I heard what happened in Indonesia”. This was news to me – what had happened in Indonesia, the country that for now at least is my home? A quick search on the internet revealed an earthquake in Sulawesi, an island in the north east of Indonesia… although relatively close to Flores (which is in the south east) I had not noticed a thing.

Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and other natural (and less natural) disasters happen frequently in Indonesia – the country covers the so called ‘ring of fire’ seismic zone – so much so that it often doesn’t make the news… either here or in the UK.

A particularly disturbing point in case is the recent floods in Aceh. This war torn region, familiar to so many after the 2003 tsunami was once again struck by disaster over Christmas. The effects of the floods were made all the worse as so many people in the area are still living in the makeshift accommodation provided following the tsunami. Kathryn has more information on her blog (www.kathryntomlinson.blogspot.com) – please take the time to visit her site and see how you can help.

Meanwhile, back here in Flores, I let my brother know that I am ok & he replied pointing out that Indonesia is “a damn big place” – true enough, but is that any excuse for the media’s (both Indonesian & Western) selective interest in these life and death stories? No one died in Sulawesi, yet it made the news even in England. Ten people died in storms in England, this made the news in Indonesia. So far 60 people have been confirmed dead in Aceh and 190,000 homeless… I didn’t even know about it, did you?

Albumen and grass paste

2007-01-17T07:11:00.000Z

I am starting to grow familiar with things here now. In particular I am starting to get used to the food – learning what I like and don’t like, & what to accept when offered. So what do I eat?

As in the UK, I skip breakfast (much to Zoe’s professional concern), therefore avoiding potentially the first rice of the day. Instead I opt for a snack at around 10am – however instead of the freshly cooked scone I was partial to in the UK, here I have fruit. Mango’s are in season at the moment – abundant and cheap, but always messy!

At around 11am the office provides coffee – although Indonesia is famed for its coffee I am not too keen on their method of brewing. This involves putting a desert-spoon full of coffee and a desert-spoon full of sugar in a glass & topping up with hot water. Although I get mine without the sugar, the method still leaves an inch or two of un-dissolved coffee in the bottom of the glass which is not a very refreshing end to the drink! With the coffee we will often have some sort of sweet snack. These usually take one of two forms: something fried (banana, pineapple); or something made of rice (and ideally with some green food colouring).

Lunch in the office is always rice. Rice is the stable here (although only since the 1960s). You have a big pile of rice and a little pile of something else: dried fish heads, spicy beans, tofu (dog is reserved for special occasions). This is served with a glass of hot water. Dinner is my favourite meal of the day – the one that Zoe & I get to choose & cook for ourselves! Although choice of ingredients is a little limiting we are still managing to cook up some English classics: egg, chips & backed-beans; pasta; egg on toast.

So when we had a few people over for my birthday on Saturday we decided to treat our new Indonesian friends to English style party food. I made a range of different pizzas, crisps & nuts, & the piece de resistance: cheese & pineapple on sticks!

The Indonesians were quite weary & had to have a fair bit of alcohol before they would try the strange combinations (especially the olives… but that was just me being a little mean!). In a way it felt good getting my own back and encouraging them to realise the number of new things I am having to adapt to! But then I found this in one of my VSO resources and it made me realise quite what a strange bunch we English are! Can you work out what it’s talking about?

"They eat a food from a paste made from the seeds of a type of grass, cooked once and then burnt near a flame, which is smeared with fat from an animal. They eat this with the albumen from a bird. Traditionally they eat it at certain times of day"

"Almost the entire population is addicted to a plant substance which they drink with water and other animal or plant substances. They speak openly about this addiction apparently without shame, and have evolved certain rituals around its use"

Big Flores / Little Flores

2007-01-11T12:53:00.000Z

Life in Flores often feels quite surreal, a bit like being in some strange TV programme (and would probably make pretty good viewing)...

On the one hand, I often feel as though I am in the Big Brother house… The bizarre occurrences I experience must be being staged by an evil Big Brother trying to make my life difficult and provoke a reaction (my tantrum the night the water was off & the phone was disconnected would have been award winning!). Also Big Brotheresque was our Christmas party, having been deprived of company, alcohol & music for weeks we threw ourselves into having a good time when these ‘privileges’ were suddenly available (even if company was still only a mop & a broom!).

On the other hand, I often feel as though I am in a surreal comedy like Little Britain. A few sketches in particular regularly spring to mind… working on a health project the issue of HIV/Aids regularly comes up. This is a tricky subject in a Catholic society, sex before marriage “does not happen”, but more strangely perhaps homosexuality “doesn’t exist in Flores”, so it’s not so much “the only gay in the village” but more a case of “the only gay in Flores”! The other sketch I am reminded of is the Fat Fighters one – the way the Fat Fighters leader can never understand the Indian woman’s perfectly good English. Now I’m not saying I speak perfect Bahasa, but I will, for example, ask for something in a shop using Bahasa & 10 minutes of sign language, dictionary consultation and a number of friends and relatives being brought in to translate later there is finally a moment of enlightenment & they repeat exactly what I said in the first place!

Paradise found

2007-01-08T11:13:00.000Z

You may have wondered why the blog has been a little quite for the last week or so… well Zoe & I have been on holiday. At 6 am on boxing day we took a public bus to Labuan Bajo. The bus was very crowded (think of a can of sardines, add a couple of chickens, 2 bule, then add some more sardines), very uncomfortable & took a very long time – not a very pleasant start to our journey but at least we were off! From Labuan Bajo we caught a tourist boat to Lombok

The boat stopped regularly for snorkeling & we also stopped at Komodo

And at a waterfall where we swung into the water ‘tarzan style’!

We only spent 1 night on Lombok before heading out to Gili Trawangan – a self styled party island – for New Year. Gili T was everything that Bali wasn’t: people didn’t try to sell you stuff, and there was no motorized traffic (only horse & cart or bicyle), oh, and it was beautiful! Long white sandy beaches, clear blue water filled with tropical fish & turtles, beach bars, amazing sunsets, cheese… you get the picture!

We reluctantly left the island (2 days later than planned) and set off home by public transport. As you may imagine this was not without adventure (squashy ant filled buses, an annoying Australian family with 4 kids, missed ferries, buses breaking down), but I wont spoil this post by going into all that, best just to say it took 4 days to get back to rainy old Ruteng.

This is definately the side of Indonesia I've been searching for, now feeling refreshed I am ready to get on with my new life and job on Flores.

Salamat natal

2006-12-25T02:23:00.000Z

Christmas in Rureng is (obviously) a lil different to Christmas in the UK, and in many ways for the better. Preparations didn’t really start until about a week ago & despite the odd decoration it is far less obvious & much less commercialised. I can't help thinking that maybe it would be nice if England took a leaf out of this book, even if for just one year… Although it would be nice to be back with my family & friends at this time of year I don’t miss all the hype, over-expectations & materialism of Christmas at home.

However Zoe & I did try to recreate a little English Christmas spirit by getting rather drunk & having a party on Christmas Eve. Our guests were a mop & a broom and we (sexily) danced away with them all night! Today we are having a relaxed day, we have rented half a dozen DVDs, bought some rather expensive Cadburys chocolate and plan to make pizza for our Christmas lunch. Then this evening, we may just meet up again with our good friends, the mop & the broom.

Me, Zoe, the mop & the broom
...getting a lil giggly
Zoe & the broom

me & the mop

Cake or death?

2006-12-22T09:46:00.000Z

I’m not sure if it was some profound philosopher or just Eddie Izzard who first posed the question ‘cake or death?’ but this type of comparative question between two seemingly irrelevant items is one I’ve been pondering quite a lot lately. Living without things that you take for granted it becomes kind of a fun game to choose which you miss most…

TV or duvet? (duvet)
Electricity or water? (water)
Heels or hair straighteners? (tricky one, hair straighteners I think)
Cheese or yogurt? (cheese)
Internet or…

Well that is where the problem is (or was if you are reading this before November 2007). Following the low point of the only internet café for 50 miles being struck by lightening came a high of finding out I could get internet at home. But then this week I got cut off for not paying the bill! Now in the UK this would be a relatively simple problem to solve – call the telephone company, give them your address & set up a direct debit – but in Flores it couldn’t possible be that straight forward. For a start I don’t have an address (the one I gave you the other week is my work address). There is no house number or road name, just a district then a series of descriptors: opposite the catholic radio station; where the nuns used to live. And obviously direct debit is never gonna happen – I can’t even withdraw money here on my visa card. So someone from work is gonna sort it out, I don’t know how, I don’t think I’ll ever understand the bureaucratic side of Indonesian.

It’s amazing how quickly the internet has come to dominate western life and how much we have come to rely on it. Like most things, you don’t really realize how important it is to you until you don’t have it. For me here it is a lifeline to the modern world. So if it’s a choice between TV, duvet, electricity, water, heels, hair straighteners, cheese, yogurt or internet the answer for me is simple: internet. (Oh, & I would choose cake over death – but that’s obvious!)

Machetes and saucepans

2006-12-18T09:24:00.000Z

Today I held the first meeting of my research team. As the fieldwork is now complete we met to conduct the preliminary analysis ready for a steering group meeting in January. The research is part of an international network research programme on mobility & health and is run by a British NGO called the International Forum for Rural Transport Development (IFRTD) and we are focusing on answering two main research questions:

What are the key barriers to poor people’s use of existing transport facilities to access health services?
How might female access to health services, and that of disadvantaged groups, be improved with mobility interventions?

Although disappointed not to be more involved in the research design & fieldwork, this is certainly an interesting point at which to join the project. We are disaggregating the data into four main themes: gender, transport, education, and poverty. I think gender will arise as an overarching theme as in Flores women are not empowered in anyway (tellingly the term ‘gender’ was not known by many of the interviewees). Although women do the majority of the work (15 hours per day as opposed to the 9 hour day men work) they are not entitled to make any decisions, even about their own health.

There is a phrase here ‘men in the front, women in the back’ which can be applied across all areas of life and has been apparent to me even in the short time I have been here. For example, as a white women I am granted the ‘privilege’ of sitting with the men at lunch (in the front of the house) whilst the other women eat in the kitchen (at the back of the house). This gender disparity can perhaps be best illustrated by the familiar terms for husband (machete) and wife (saucepan). One of the questions I am frequently asked here is about my status (i.e. am I married yet) and when I reply ‘belum’ (not yet) people get quite excited about the idea of my marrying a local man – I haven’t told them, but I’m telling you – there is no way I am going to be any man’s saucepan!

I have my own machete thanks!

...and I'm not sharing my saucepan!

Two way conversation

2006-12-15T10:32:00.000Z

Now I'm kinda settled in Ruteng it would be cool to make this a bit more of a two way conversation! My contact details are:

Karen Whitby
Ayo Indonesia
Jl. Ahmad Yani
No. 16
Keluruhan Tenda
Ruteng
Manggarai
Flores
NTT
Indonesia

Home phone: 62 (0)3852 2398
Mob phone: 62 (0)81 336 531 390

If you are calling from the UK you can use this number to get calls to the landline at 1p/min or 6p/min to the mobile: 0844 861 2121 Wait for response, then dial adding two more zeros, e.g. 0062 3852 2398

And to make this post a little more interesting I've added some pictures of Ruteng!

getting off the plane at Ruteng airport

Zoe with Cathedral & mountains in the background

Rice paddy's on the hillside

The traditional 'spiderweb' layout of the paddy's as seen from the air

Water, water everywhere…

2006-12-15T09:58:00.000Z

The rains have started in Flores. December is quite late for this – everyone blames it on global warming. Here in Ruteng late rains don’t make a lot of difference as the cool mountain climate means that the region is constantly green. In more arid areas though (where there is a ‘hungry’ season and a ‘rainy’ season) I imagine the late rains made life hard. So far, the ‘rains’ haven’t been too bad… it’s bright and sunny in the morning & then at around lunch time it clouds over & rains quite heavily for a few hours. My complaint though (sorry this is turning out to be such a moany blog!) is that despite this abundance of water, I still do not have running water at home!

Everyone gives a different explanation for this: the government ration the water; there’s a leaky pipe etc. And to confound my problems the mandi (my main vessel for storing water) leaks. It wasn’t too bad when I was on my own – I’d almost got into a routine of bucket filling – but now Zoe is here too, and to be honest it is a struggle to make the water go round. You don't really realise how much water you need, or the varitey of tasks you use it for, until you don't have it 'on tap'!

I’m sure we’ll fix the situation soon – or at least work out a routine to better conserve the water we do have – it’s just a bit frustrating so live in an area with monsoon style rain but to have to conserve water as though we were living in a desert!

the empty mandi

rainy afternoon at home

Patience, perseverance, and humility

2006-12-13T10:38:00.000Z

As a leaving present a good friend gave me a copy of ‘The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places’, a collection of first-hand accounts by the great explorers of the 20th century. I’ve been dipping into it a little over the past few weeks and came across this quote by John Dundas Cochrane (1793-1825), a naval officer who attempted to make the first solo journey round the world on foot:

"Go and wander with the illiterate and almost brutal savage! – go and contemplate the human being in every element and climate, whether civilized or savage – of whatever tribe, nation, or religion. Make due allowance for the rusticity of their manner; nor be tempted to cope with them in those taunts, insults, and rudeness, to which the nature of thy enterprise will subject thee. Contemn those incidental circumstances which but too often surprise mankind from their good intentions, and deprive the world of much useful and interesting information. Avoid all political and military topics, and remember, that, ‘the proper study of mankind is man’… It is only by patience, perseverance, and humility, by reducing thyself to the lowest level of mankind, that thou canst expect to pass through the ordeal with either safety or satisfaction".

Although perhaps not politically correct for the 21st century, I did draw some strength from Cochrane’s lesson. This week I have been visiting rural villages in the Maggarai region. The people I met can neither be described as ‘brutal’ or ‘savage’, but their life is very different from mine and I did have to exert a great deal of patience, perseverance and humility.

The meetings took all day and involved a lot of traditional greetings, protocol and drinking sweet coffee (eugh). The villagers were lovely and so welcoming. They gave me the best of everything, which was itself a lesson in humility. In one village I joined a cooking class for pregnant mothers and was then made to consume much of the food myself – and I can promise you I am not a pregnant mother!

And in case you were wondering, Cochrane’s attempt to circumnavigate the world by foot ended in the Pacific where he "fell for, and married, a doe-eye Kamchatkan teenager"!

Zoe & I in traditional ikat skirts

The villagers

The mothers

Double standards

2006-12-12T12:09:00.000Z

One of the funny/annoying/frustrating things about Flores is the double standards. On my first day at work in Flores I walked home with a colleague, it was hot & dusty so I took out my bottle of water to have a drink as we were walking along. My colleague was horrified! She asked me to put the bottle away & when I asked why she eventually told me that people would think I was a whore if I ate or drank whilst walking down the street.

Yet last week another colleague asked me to arrange for VSO to provide some condoms to give away at a concert to promote HIV/Aids awareness. I was happy to help with this & whilst in Bali this week arranged a large supply – I texted my colleague back in Flores the good news. She replied [sic]:

Hi Karen. Thx for the good news…can u give us another help by buying some synthetic penis for the condoms?

I guess every culture has this type of double standard that are confusing to outsiders… you just aren’t aware of them if you have always lived that way.

Answers

2006-12-05T01:16:00.000Z

Well I’ve away a month – the longest time I’ve ever spent out of the UK – so I figure it’s time to reflect on the question I posed before I left… was I ready?

Physically & materially yes, the things I miss (my friends, my duvet, my high heels, dairy products) I could never have bought with me. Mentally & emotionally though, no I wasn’t ready. I guess I never could have been, and maybe this mental & emotional challenge is one of the things I was seeking when I decided to work abroad, but still I didn’t think it would be so big, so shocking or so draining.

I don’t know if it’s homesickness, but I crave normality… familiarity. Perhaps this would be true in any new job/house/town but add a new language/culture/morays and some days it is all too much. I hope that in time Flores will become normal, many things are already familiar but in a weird kinda way. But I’ve only got a year (actually only 11 months now). I don’t think I’m gonna quit, but I hope I settle enough soon to really make the most of this experience.

How to say 'no' (part 2)

2006-12-02T02:46:00.000Z

Well your advice (and my Bahasa) was too slow. I’ve done it. I’ve eaten dog!

I guess the voyeuristic among you might want to know what it tasted like… I understand that most random meat (frogs, snakes, snails’ etc) taste like chicken, but this was dark meat – more like beef. I guess the closest thing I’ve tasted is goat. It was kinda gristly, but that’s how they seem to like their meat here (nothing wasted etc). It was beautifully seasoned, so on the whole quite pleasant.

And morally (or whatever), how did I feel? Fine. I disengage myself from the animal I was eating (I mean do you really think about the cow, sheep or pig when you are eating?) I feel mildly guilty now, but to be honest after a week of eating strange bony fish it kinda made a pleasant change! People here don’t keep dogs as pets (since a bad outbreak of rabies a few years ago), so really it is just like eating any other animal… unless I am gonna become veggie I don’t think I can criticise.

(Sorry Zoe!)

A new home

2006-12-02T02:31:00.000Z

This week I moved into my new home. Friends back home had joked that I would be living in a mud hut, but they couldn’t be more wrong. My new home is the biggest house I’ve ever lived in! It has four bedrooms: one for me, one for my fellow volunteer Zoe, one for an office, and one for guests. There is a kitchen (but read this in the loosest possible way), a room for washing clothes and a mandi (I’ll come back to that one). There is also a huge garden with mature fruit trees including mango, avocado, coffee & others that I don’t know the names of yet but are very tasty! The house is set in the foothills of the mountains that surround Ruteng, so the views are also spectacular.

The mandi is the wash facility. It’s kinda like a tall square bath, but you don’t get in it. Instead you keep a supply of cold (it may not be a mud hut but there are still some hardships) water in it. This you scoop into a bucket & mix with boiled water and then throw over yourself – pretty refreshing really!

So that’s my house, the guestroom is ready & waiting, so come & see for yourself!

Hello mister

2006-11-30T01:28:00.000Z

I get stared at a lot in Ruteng. Although it is the main town (or perhaps city… it has two cathedrals) of the Maggarai province it is well off the tourist track, so the staring is just curiosity although it can make one feel a tad paranoid!

People will often practise a little English on me, if I’m lucky I get ‘hello miss’, more commonly it is ‘hello mister’ and occasionally (and most disconcertingly) it is ‘hello beautiful’! If I am feeling confident – usually in the morning – I reply with a Bahasa greeting, but as the day wears on I become increasing overwhelmed by my new surroundings and keep my head down (quite a sensible move as the pavement is often uneven if not full of deep holes)!

I have started work now. The research project I am ‘leading’ was already well underway before my arrival (in fact the fieldwork is almost completed) so I am in the delicate position of taking over the lead from a well co-ordinated and experienced group of researchers. For the time being, I am adopting an approach similar to the ‘hello misters’: just keeping my head down!

First impressions of Flores

2006-11-28T05:38:00.000Z

After a slightly ill advised all-nighter in Kuta on Friday I boarded a small plane to Labuanbajo (tourist resort in the west of Flores and ‘gateway’ to Komodo Island). The plane only had about two dozen passengers and only stopped at Labuanbajo to let me off!

Me & other VSO vols on Friday night...

by early Saturday morning it was only Zoe & I still going strong!

In Labuanbajo I chatted to some locals (more or less in Bahasa!) and had a great dinner at the hotel – fresh snapper (definitely Michelin quality DT). As opposed to Bali (or maybe because of events in Bali) the tourism industry here is growing and I saw more Western tourists than I had in my whole two weeks in Bali.

Dinner in Labuanbajo

Travelling in developing countries I’ve always found that the material that local houses are made of are a great identifier of local resources and culture. My room in Labuanbajo was made of wicker – literally like a wicker chair stretched into a box shape and a bed inserted inside. On the bus to Ruteng the following day I saw some amazing ‘wicker’ architecture, unfortunately though, in most cases the traditional thatch roof has been replaced by corrugated metal roofs (easier to maintain I guess).

my hotel 'room' in Labuanbajo

My first impression of Flores is that it is very beautiful. It has an amazingly rugged landscape of mountains & hills that remind me of a child’s drawing. As Rutang is a mountain town it is much cooler (still shorts & t-shirt weather, although unfortunately shorts are not really acceptable) I am looking forward to exploring the beautiful countryside on foot over the coming weeks/months/year!

How to say 'no'

2006-11-24T03:55:00.000Z

It's tricky saying 'no' in Bahasa Indonesian. Technically 'tidak' means 'no'. It is also used to put words in the negative: saya tidak mau (I don't want to). But culturally, Indonesians don't like negative responses, so when someone asks if you are married (as they frequently do) the polite answer is not 'tidak', but 'belum' (not yet).

I've been told that eating dog is a delicacy in Flores... How do I say no to that?!?

What's in a blog?

2006-11-23T13:19:00.000Z

I've been receiving comments, both on the blog & off about the content & style of my writing (and it's frequency). I'm trying to achieve a delicate balance between reporting the personal - e.g. what I have for breakfast or how many times I go to the loo - and the profound - e.g. the different cultural mores of south eastern Asia. Obviously these are exaggerated extremes, but some people are requesting more personal stuff, others more profound... As this is my penultimate night in Bali I'm afraid those of you looking for the profound should probably skip this post.

As I say, I depart for Flores on Saturday. Over the past couple of weeks I've been talking to lots of people about what to expect, but everyone has a different view. On the plus side, most seem to agree that the climate of Reutang is very favorable (although they can't agree on how often it rains) and the people very friendly. On the negative (and I'm afraid this list is a little longer, perhaps giving some insight into my current frame of mind) hardly anyone speaks English, the people can be quite aggressive, there is no transport infastructre (i.e. no taxi from the airport to the hotel), but there are giant rats, and lizards with giant suckers that fall on you and can't be removed!

Guess I'm back to the question of am I ready? Physically yes - I've had the last of my jabs and my bags are packed. On most other levels, no - my bahasa Indonesian is poor and Bali has not really prepared me for living in a developing country. Guess I just need to get on with it and see... It's driving me crazy trying to guess what it'll be like!

In the meantime I have one last night in Bali. It is Zoe's (fellow volunteer going to Reutang) 30th so we are off clubbing in Kuta and with or without police raids I am determined to have a good time!

Everyone here's talking about...

2006-11-19T12:19:00.000Z

Everyone here is talking about President Bush’s planned visit to Indonesia on Monday. He’s only coming for a couple of hours, but it still fills the newspapers. The Jakarta Post reports that in other parts of the country there have been large protests, but here in Bali there is a slightly more relaxed attitude. Protesters in Denpassar marched with a banner that read ‘Welcome to Indonesia, Mr Bush. You may come, just don’t dictate (to us)’… a sentiment I agree with. Also in Bali a ‘man claming magic powers drank freshly slaughtered animal & snake blood as part of a ritual he said would jinx the upcoming visit… “I don’t hate Americans but I don’t like bush” said Pamungkas… he believed the ritual would cause Secret Service agents guarding Bush to fall into a trance and believe the US leader was under attack causing chaos’.

Bush is here to talk to the Indonesian president and one of the topics of discussion may well include terrorism and the continuing tsunami relief effort. Both terrorism and the tsunami have had a profound affect on Bali, the bombings in 2002 and the tsunami in 2004 all but destroyed tourism on the island. For the peaceful Hindu community of Bali the bombs were shocking but instead of reprisals against Muslim & Javanese immigrants working in Bali leaders of various faiths prayed side-by-side during purification ceremonies. The police were also swift in identifying the perpetrators and brought in a number of security measures across the island.

Tsunami 'information' sign on Sanur beach

These security measures are still evident. Many western organisations have strict security; cars and bags are searched before entering places like the language schools, nightclubs and McDonalds. I went out in Kuta (the main tourist resort where the bombing occurred) on Saturday night and saw all this first hand. I also witnessed the force of the police when the club I was in was raided for drugs. The music went off, the lights came on & everyone in the place was (thoroughly) searched. Everyone co-operated – no illegal substances were found and no arrests were made – and everyone cheered when the police announced this.

I don’t think Bali is really like the rest of Indonesia – the benign approach to Bush’s visit, the ‘cleansing’ after the bombing – I look forward to seeing another side of the country when I leave for Flores next week.

I’m just here to do a job (aren’t I?)

2006-11-16T10:35:00.000Z

This week my training began in earnest. In the mornings (8-12) I have language school. For me this is hard going. I am not a linguist by any stretch of the imagination (although developing language skills is one of my motivations for working abroad)… with a bit of effort I can remember individual words, but I struggle to string them together into coherent sentences. I am in class (at a primary school!) with two other volunteers & already I am the bottom of the class. Luckily I get a week more than they do & I’m working hard in the evenings so hopefully I’ll have mastered the basics before I leave for Flores. My favourite words so far are:

Teman (friend);
Keren (cool); and
Maaf, saya tidak tahu (sorry, I don’t know).

Me, Pak Gunewan, Mavis & Christine in class

In the afternoons (1-6) I receive various briefings on the work of VSO in Indonesia. Yesterday we covered monitoring and evaluation. I went into the session feeling a little cocky, after all it’s what I do for a living (kinda). But I was asked to think about what impact I will see during my placement on individuals, on the organisation I am working for & on the wider community. My answer was that I am there to do a specific job, I will see little direct impact at a local level, that I am conducting research & will report the findings to the project sponsor. Apparently this was not satisfactory.

Impact is a discussion that was frequently had at NFER and I know that some of my colleagues there felt very strongly about their work having a direct impact on children’s education. However I often struggled to feel that direct connection, now here I am 1000s of miles away struggling with that same dilemma – am I just here to do a job, or am I working for some kind of greater good? Obviously I want to do ‘good’ (I would never feel happy working for some big capitalist corporation), but maybe I’m just a little cynical about the measurable impact of that ‘good’ and my input into it. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

It’s not paradise but it smell’s nice

2006-11-13T11:29:00.000Z

Bali has a bit of a reputation, in my mind at least, of being a tropical paradise. Having thought on this over the past couple of days I’ve concluded that my idea of paradise would have better transport (I’ll cover bemaks & bemos in a later post), less people, and definitely less people trying to sell you stuff. Over the weekend I visited a number of temples (Bali is predominantly Hindu) and even in these beautiful & sacred sites there are hawkers – people wanting to guide you; sell you postcards, drinks or sarongs; or most depressingly children of 3 or 4 years old trying to sell you frangipani flowers (which I have to fish out of the pool at the hotel on a daily basis in order to swim a length unobstructed!).

The temple at Besakih

However my paradise may smell like Bali. The streets are pungent with the smell of incense which is left as offerings to the Gods all along the pavement. This mixes pleasantly with the smell of food cooking over hot coals and the aforementioned frangipani. So yes, Bali may not be my paradise in many ways, but it sure does smell like it!

An offering to the Gods on the pavement outside my hotel

BTW I now have an Indonesian mobile sorted, email me at my normal work address & I’ll send you the number

1st post from Indonesia

2006-11-09T12:19:00.000Z

Well I'm here! It was a long journey starting at about 7am Wednesday (UK time) and ending 4pm Thursday (Indo time). I got through Heathrow's rigorous security measures with only one small incident - the snazzy pens NFER produced to celebrate its 60th anniversary create xray blackspots, so I had to have my whole bag investigated! The rest of the journey was relatively uneventful, I had a bit of a crap seat on the flight to Bangkok (right next to the kitchen, but there was the advantage of getting served first!), but the highlight of the journey was being presented with an orchid for flying with Thai Air :-)

At Denpasar Airport I met the other two volunteers that I'll be training with and we traveled to the hotel together. It's all a bit nice here (swimming pool, air-conditioned rooms, hot showers) think I should take advantage while it lasts! Training starts 8:30 tomorrow...

Ready, steady, GO!

2006-11-07T14:46:00.000Z

I leave tomorrow. I have had the leaving party & the leaving presents... all that is left to do now is leave.

(Ekua, me & Sulochini at my leaving party)

The fear/excitement/panic I woke up with on Sunday morning and has sat in the pit of my stomach ever since.

I think I am ready - I've got my bags packed, I've had my jabs, I've done the PIP course - but does any of this mean I'm ready? Will I every be ready? Probably not - the changes I am making are not really the type you can prepare for, the best you can do is the practical stuff & I think I'm there with that, so I guess this is as good as it's gonna get.

My next post will be from Bali, where I have two weeks training before departing for Flores. Hopefully by then I will know how ready I am, at least for the start of my adventure!

Final count down

2006-11-02T16:34:00.000Z

This time next week I'll have completed the first leg of my journey to a new (if temporary) life. True panic has yet to kick in, I'm still focused on getting everything ready - both mentally & physically.

But each day I achieve a little task that takes me one step closer to Indonesia - today it was starting my antimalarial tablets. Choosing an antimalarial is a case of choosing the lesser evil... malarone the most effective drug with the least side affects is not licensed for longer than a month so is immediately ruled out. Malaria in many countries is resistant to paludrine & chloroquine, so that's another definite 'no'. So that leaves a choice of two: lariam, where you risk nightmares, hallucinations & general madness or doxycycline where you risk sensitivity to strong sunlight and an increased risk of thrush. I went for the sunburn & thrush option, ho hum!

Toodle pip

2006-10-30T14:18:00.000Z

This weekend I attended the VSO's Pre-Departure Information & Preparation (PIP) course. An amazing amount of information was provided in a fun & participatory way, but the highlight really was the other people on the course. It was great to spend the weekend with other people preparing to do similar work in similar places & many of them had a wealth of experience living and working abroad to share as well.

The course also raised many interesting issues about working in the development sector and in developing countries: are development workers the new missionaries? Certainly we are going to help and in some cases educate people in developing countries, but we will endeavors to do this in a participatory & capacity building way. However 'participatory' and 'capacity building' are to some extent just NGO buzz words - we tried to unpick them a little on the course & in the short term I am placated to the idea that I will be making a positive difference and not just sermonising. But I think I will have to try to keep an awareness of the risk of exacerbating a problem that in the bigger picture caused developing countries to be in this spiral of poverty in the first place.

Questions

2006-10-26T11:55:00.000+01:00

I was in a taxi once & the driver had a laminated card saying

'yes I am having a good night'
'yes it has been busy'
'no, I don't like to chat'

It's lovely that everyone is so interested in my trip, but I'm considering getting a laminated card myself:

'yes, it is exciting'
'yes, it is a great opportunity'
'no, I'm not ready'
'I'm going to be researching infant and maternal mortality on an Island called Flores in the East of Indonesia'

And perhaps a few other responses for some of the stranger questions I've received:

'yes, they do have wardrobes in Indonesia'

But I'm not complaining really - it's great that everyone is being so supportive... Perhaps I should just give them the address for this blog instead though!

Dead arm

2006-10-23T12:46:00.000+01:00

One of the minor downsides of traveling to far flung places is the plethora of vaccinations you have to have. My list isn't too long, but certainly none of them are pleasant... today I started a course of Jap B & Rabies injections - the injections themselves weren't too painful (unlike the Hep B) but I'm anticipating a dead arm by this evening :-(

This weekend I saw my parents for the last time before my departure - they live in a sleepy little seaside village in North Norfolk (Mundesley) but we met at my brothers place in Docklands and went out for lunch at a local Tapas restaraunt. I gave them their Christmas cards & they gave me a Christmas present to take out to Indonesia with me "yes Mr Customs Official, I did pack all my bags myself...!"

The whole family

me & my Mum

1st post : 1st blog

2006-10-20T14:48:00.000+01:00

Well this is my first ever post on my first ever blog...

I've decided to write this as I'm off to Indonesia in 19 days to go and work as a researcher on the Island of Flores.

Some credit has to be paid in all this (both the blog & the Indonesian adventure in general) to my friend and former NFER colleague Kathryn Tomlinson. Kathryn also left the NFER (although she never planned to come back again) to go and work in Indonesia. I think our reasoning in taking on such a challenge may have a little in common although I'm sure our experiences will be very different, but anyway to learn more about Kathryn's time in Indonesia checkout her blog, Flying Fish. Meanwhile I hope you come back regularly and read about my new life too.