Back in the US

I'm writing from Chicago, where it is 4:30 pm Chicago time and 6:30 am Pontianak time. I've spent a total of about 20 hours on planes so far (Bali to Jakarta to Singapore to Hong Kong to Chicago) and am looking forward to only two-point-five more hours! New York, here I come.

The strangest things about coming home to the US?
First, the water fountains. Drinking water from the tap is indulgent, and I have to think twice before taking a sip.
Second, the size of people. In Asia, people are generally slimmer and smaller, I feel like I'm in an airport-ful of giants.
Third, the smells. I'd forgotten the sharp aroma of toasted bread and cheese. Yummy.
Finally, the cold. I've been freezing since leaving Singapore - despite wearing a sweatshirt, socks, long pants etc. the flights have been on the slightly shivery side, and stepping of the plane in Chicago was shocking!

Because this blog is named, Kim-in-Indonesia blog, this is the official last entry. I'll back-post about my Bali travels sometime this week. Thanks for reading!

kim

Press for TFG

Tropical Forest Group has generated some amazing press coverage regarding forests and the REDD (reduced emissions from deforestation in developing countries) during its time in Bali.

First, we sponsored a group of Balinese dancers who were featured as the front page picture in the Jakarta Post:


Second, we did a little enactment of the US stand on emissions reductions, which was photographed by AP.

And every day we've been putting up our trees (photo courtesy of JP Jewell).

Durian

It is finally durian season in Kalimantan (though my friends tell me the durian is much too expensive, I really should wait a couple weeks to buy). Thus at delegated places around the city, people are selling truckfulls of durian. Apparently buying the fruit is an art - my Indonesian friends checked out perhaps 100 different fruits before buying 6 buah (fruit). Durian should be chosen by appearance and most importantly smell. The yellower and more fragarent the fruit, the more delicious. We dragged the fruit home and opened them one at a time, tasting and exclaiming on the texture (wet or dry), sweetness (too sweet, or not enough) and acidity (many durian are a bit acid). I like durian, but I think the durian I tried in Bangkok last year was better than the local kind -- sorry Indonesia =)

Prepping for Bali COP13

Starting next week, I will be in Bali for the UN COP13 climate change negotiations. I'm working with the Tropical Forest Group (TFG). Among other things, TFG will be sponsoring a large tree display outside the conference center and a dance show (traditional Balinese dance!) to visually illustrate the importance of forest conservation.

The group has also set up a blog that will give a running commentary of the conference.

Among other things delegates at COP13 will be negotiating post-2012 climate change strategies. One strategy set to receive tons of press in the upcoming conference is REDD (Reduced Emissions from avoided Deforestation in Developing countries). In the past, countries have not been able to trade carbon credits in this category. Currently, tropical deforestation causes about 20% of greenhouse gas emissions. So REDD is a potentially important part of any future emissions reduction strategy!

Data Entry Time!

I’m back in Pontianak for a couple of weeks to finish up with data entry, pack up my room, and say goodbye to everyone before heading to Bali for the UN COP13 on climate change. Life is boringly happy here, with lots of time at the gym, and hanging out with my ex-pat and Indonesian friends. Email will be easier from now on, thank goodness. Terima Kasih (thanks) to everyone who sent happy birthday wishes!

Birthday in Kalimantan

Today was one of the most memorable birthdays of my life. I woke up at 5 am in Bayangan, to the sound of clumpiau monkeys singing. After eating kue (sweet cakes) and buying freshly killed deer from a villager for dinner that evening, my teammates and I packed up our bags and traveled to Mensubang, a nearby village on the Pawan river. We decided to stay the night in Mensubang and throw a little party to celebrate the end of fieldwork.

Dessy talked with the schoolmaster and arranged a evening big feast, and also extended invitations to all the important villagers – kepala desa, kepala dusun, Muslim leaders, village secretary, etc. I hung out in the village all morning, and in the afternoon walked to the mountains to check my email (my phone only receives a signal on the top of tall mountains…go figure). Of course all the villagers thought I was crazy to walk so far away alone (“weren’t you scared!?!), but it was quite nice to appreciate the rubber gardens, birds, and hills of Ketapang one more time before returning to more developed parts of the country/world. Unfortunately, the current frequent rains mean lots of mosquitoes, so my email checking was interrupted by frequent mosquito swatting.

After getting back to the village in late afternoon, I hung out with the village women and learned how to cook krupuk – dried tapioca deep fried in oil so that it puffs up. A uniquely Indonesian snack, krupuk comes in all shapes and sizes – we were cooking one with a flowery motif that came in a variety of colors. Unfortunately for me (but probably fortunately for health) I don’t enjoy krupuk, but it was fun to cook nevertheless.

The evening party started after the evening prayers, at about 7 pm. Everyone gathered in a large house. The men and women were dressed up – the men with traditional hats and sarongs instead of pants, the women with pretty shirts and makeup. The evening started with a speech from the schoolmaster (and then myself – amazing – speaking Indonesian in front of so many people!). After this, one of the older men in the village said an Islamic prayer for safe travels, wellbeing, and long life. Finally we got to the food, which was delicious: venison, chicken in coconut sauce, breadfruit, cassava leaves, roasted corn, chile, and of course rice.

After eating we just hung out, talked, and then (predictably) the photos started. I took a photo with most of the women and children in the house, before finally escaping around 9 pm to fall into bed exhausted but happy.

Bayangan – The Last One

Our last village was perhaps the most simple of all the places we’ve been to. Named Bayangan, it is in the mountains above the Pawan river. Only one road runs through the village, and it is perhaps the worst road that I’ve seen thus far in Kalimantan: slippery, narrow, steep, and rocky, sometimes all at the same time. Cars cannot navigate this road, so motorbikes or walking are the only ways to get to Bayangan. Thus the village is relatively isolated and very small, with only about 150 residents. Of course there is no power. The school does have an elementary school, but doesn’t have a health clinic – villagers must travel for a couple hours to reach a clinic or nurse.

We arrived in Bayangan at about 4 pm, and were warmly welcomed by the Kepala Dusun to stay in his house and survey the village. Amazingly, he was able to gather a group of villagers together to draw a village map the night we arrived, so we were able to begin field work the following day. Dessy and I chose to survey the cutway that the oil palm company created around the village, which marks the border between oil palm land and village land. Because the cutway was created about six months ago, and because this is the tropics where plants grow ridiculously fast, we had to do our own cutting to remove the new vegetation from the “path”. Our guide was the Kepala Dusun himself. The day, though long and hard, was one of the more fun field days I’ve had. We stopped at a hut and ate roasted corn, found wild tomato-like fruits, and picked peppers for dinner that evening. The final GPS point was located in the middle of a grassy swamp – we were all wet up to our armpits by the time we finished the day!

Happily, because of the small population size and small land use footprint in Bayangan, we finished mapping Bayangan within a single day. Which means….drum roll please…that the mapping component of the field work is finished!!! Woohoo!!! The best birthday present I could ask for. I’m exhausted, but happy and amazed that we’ve been able to collect so much data. Tomorrow we start the three day process of going home.

Pegawai Negeri (Civil Servant) Tests

In Indonesia, one of the most highly valued jobs is working for the government. Although the pay is not high, the security and benefits of being a government employee are great. People are guaranteed pensions, don’t have to work very hard, and know they’ll have a job for life. All of my coworkers would like to work for the government, and at the beginning of November they traveled home to Pontianak to take the required test which qualifies them for consideration as a civil servant. The test is like the SAT combined with current government affairs, with a bit about forestry thrown in. (All my coworkers hope to work for the forestry department). I think this is all a bit funny – all of the government offices that I’ve visited are filled with people who have too much time on their hands and not enough work. The result? Terrible inefficiency. In my opinion, the solution is not hiring more government workers, but that seems to be the way things are in this country…

Telok Bayur

After a three-day rest in Ketapang, Dessy, Pita, and myself traveled up the Pawan River (again) to a village named Telok Bayur. The other team members have returned to Pontianak to take a test to become an Indonesian Civil Servant. More on that later…

Bayur is our second-to-last study site (9/10), and possibly the most interesting study village I’ve yet encountered. Why? In Telok Bayur, an oil palm company has been operating for about 15 years. The village contains a factory, as well as barracks and houses to support the processing of fresh palm fruit into palm oil. Perhaps more impressively, the majority of the village area (more than 50%) is covered by oil palm plantation. Here, 20 meter oil palm plants create a dark, cool, and shady forest.

Instead of tramping around the forest every day, cutting our way through thorns and getting soaking wet in rivers, we drove around the plantation on motorbikes to complete the mapping exercise. Each morning from about 7am to 4pm I sat on the back of a motorbike with a village guide and drove around the plantation area, and asking endless questions about the villager perspectives on oil palm.

The most interesting thing I discovered is that villagers are so rich they are having rich peoples’ diseases! Instead of malnutrition and TB, present at most of our other study sites, this village suffers from health problems such as hypertension and diabetes. Villagers no longer have to do hard physical labor to earn a living, and they have more money to buy high-calorie, high-fat foods such as cakes, butter, chips, beef, and chicken. In this part of Indonesia, being fat is a symbol of being rich, and is a status symbol. Along with fat, people here (and in all of Indonesia) like to be white (a signal that they don’t have to work outside in the sun) and men often let one nail grow very long (a sign that they don’t do hard manual labor with their hands).

Ketapang Lagi

I am in Ketapang for about three days, to submit a grant application, catch up on sleep, and get away from the 24/7 attention that I get in the villages. Air conditioned hotel paradise with room service, woohoo!

Getting to the Point

Indonesia…makes me cry and makes me laugh, usually at the same time. Today was no different.

One aspect of our research is finding village border points. Today our objective was to find one point (Red Water River) which marks the border between Muara Kayong and a neighboring village named Sepahan. We started by taking motorbikes to the neighboring village, hoping to find a guide who could tell us how to get to Red Water River (Sungai Air Merah, in Indonesian). Upon arrival in the house of the head of the village, about 20 men stopped by to google at the buleh and offer their advice about how to get to the border point. After some discussion, we set out to find the point, which was apparently in the middle of an oil palm plantation. The group consisted of 6 motorbikes, four with men from Sepahan and two with guides from Muara Kayong. After driving around the oil palm plantation for about 2 hours, we finally found a small trickle of water that the men claimed was Red Water River. So we thanked our guides and returned home before lunch.

Unfortunately, the point was obviously incorrect when we visualized it on the computer. As we were discussing how to find the correct location, a local village man randomly stopped by the house to say hello to the head of village (this happens frequently in Indonesia). He claimed he knew the location of Red Water River. The way to get there? Travel by motorbike to Sepahan, get in a motorboat, drive the motorboat two hours into the forest on a small river, pass by two lakes on the way, take the right fork of the river, and finally arrive at the desired border point. After confirming that our informer was sure (absolutely sure!) about this location, we started on the journey. The trip was gorgeous – through peat swamp forest which had been logged but otherwise untouched. Along the way we saw monkeys, hornbills, snakes and crocodiles. Unfortunately, after all this effort was for naught – again the point was impossibly far away from the expected location.

As an American, this sort of experience is frustrating: why would someone send us on a wild goose chase, to an absolutely wrong place? I have yet to find the answer to this question. But I’ve gotten to the point where I can live with these mishaps with smiles and patience, because this is daily life in Indonesia.

Muara Kayong

Our eighth village is Muara Kayong. It is located on the Pawan river, which is chock-full of water right now due to nightly rains. I love living by large rivers because it means that bathing and using the WC are more pleasant experiences – instead of sharing a small river with many other users, each house has its own bathing spot, complete with a private toilet. As an added benefit, I can go swimming each evening when I bathe!

The most interesting aspect of Muara Kayong is it’s large, 10-year old oil palm plantation. My first day in the field we mapped the palm plantation, and for the first time (after over a year of studying oil palm) I saw mature oil palm and the fruit itself. Fresh fruit bunches are the raw product from oil palm trees. They are just that: bunches of palm fruits, growing where a coconut would on a coconut tree, between the leaves of the palm and the trunk. The fruits are quite pretty, red-orange-brown, the size of a plum, and very easy to harvest. The big drawback of oil palm fruit is the speed with which it must be processed – to make high quality palm oil, fruit must arrive at the factory within 24 hours of harvest. Unfortunately for Muara Kayong, the factory that supports their plantation doesn’t have a very large capacity, and much of the fruit goes to waste or is converted to low quality, low value oil.

Telok Parak

Back to the field. Our seventh village is named Telok Parak, and is one of my favorite places to work. The village is tiny – maybe 70 households total – and does not have electricity. I think there are more children here than in any of the villages I’ve lived in so far. Children have funny reactions to me; some are afraid and scream and cry when they see me, others are shy but curious, and others follow me around. In Telok Parak the kids are of the following type – within ½ hour of arrival I had three 10 year old boys trailing me upstairs, downstairs, around the village, and even to mandi (bathe) in the river with me!

We finished in Telok Parak in record time, only two days of field work and tomorrow we go to a new village, Muara Kayong. Right now it is rice growing season (the rains have started, and the planting is finished) so walking around rice fields is relatively easy compared to last month, when the fields were filled with logs and brush. The agricultural system here is to cut down forest, let the trees and brush dry, burn the cut wood, and then plant rice. Walking in fields of cut trees is not an easy job, but walking through fields of padi simply requires carefully stepping.

End of Idul Fitri and Back to the Field!

Hello readers, sorry for the lack of posting lately ... being in foreign language school really puts a damper on my ability to write in English. I returned to Pontianak from Yogya yesterday, and travelled straight to Ketapang, where I am staying the night before heading to our field site tomorrow.

So ... don't expect any blog entries for a while. I'll be back to a computer Nov 5-7, talk to you then!

Caving

My last Saturday in Yogya was spent hanging out with the Realia teachers and students. We started the day with a trip to a cave in Bantul. As usual in this country, our transportation was a flock of motorbikes. My first time traveling in Java on a motorbike, I was struck by the beauty of the place – the countryside is filled to the brim with green rice fields, cows, and a few scattered trees. The water management system here is amazing. Although there had been no rain in the area for over a month, the rice fields were still filled with water, and bright green. The only sign of drought was trees with yellow or sometimes absent leaves.

We drove almost to the top of a hill, parked the bikes, and after donning headlamps or flashlights entered the cave. True to other caves I’ve been in, there were stalagmites, stalactites, bats, and plenty of water. We were wet up to the knees within minutes of starting the trip. The footing was rough, so the walk was very slow. The cave was not particularly remarkable compared to the Lewis and Clark Caverns in Montana (my only other serious caving experience), but it was fun to splash around in the dark with my friends and teachers for a couple of hours.

After returning to the world of light, we were starving and headed to an AMAZING vegetarian restaurant. I didn’t realize such places existed in Indonesia. I was in heaven, eating beet salad, a mushroom crepe, and ginger drink. In Indonesia, salads are a rarity, probably because uncooked vegetables carry bacteria that can make you sick. I was in heaven =)

We wrapped up the evening by going to a movie box. Think movie theater, but private. Our group picked a movie (comedy), ordered food, and sat down in our own private room complete with couch, wall-sized screen, and surround sound. Do movie boxes exist in America? Such a good idea, they should…

Karaoke

Yesterday the Realia teachers, myself, and some fellow students had a karaoke night to celebrate a birthday. We rented a room and sung for two hours. Indonesians are amazing: they manage to have crazy, goofy parties, sans alcohol. This included our karaoke excursion – we were dancing and singing at the top of our lungs, without the aid of -OH. Previous to last night, I’d never been to a karaoke event without alcohol. Apparently drugs are not necessary to the karaoke spirit. Go Indonesia!

Hotel Mercure

Given the lack of internet, I decided to take a plunge and book myself a room in a ritzy hotel (which has in-room internet access, such a luxury!!) for a couple nights. I feel like I’m in air conditioned paradise. The hotel was built in 1918, and stepping into the front entrance is like traveling back in time into the colonial era when the Dutch still occupied Indonesia. One of the lovely things about coming to Indonesia from America is the fact that (almost – excluding electronics) everything is super-cheap. This five star hotel cost me about $50 per night, during the busiest holiday of the year.

For the first time while I’ve been in Yogya, I was able to seriously work on my computer – reading papers, taking notes, feeling like a grad student again instead of a traveler in Indonesia. Working is probably the biggest challenge I face as a grad student here – the environment in most places is simply not conducive to writing or computer work.

The hotel is conveniently located near the famous Malioboro street, which is filled with touristy batik stores, lots of street food, and a traditional market selling everything from live chickens to peppers to hand carved furniture. I took a walk Sunday afternoon and just looked. Everyone is on holiday, and the atmosphere was very relaxed, with few “hello misters” or stares. I ate Es Durian (yes, just like it sounds – ice plus durian plus coconut milk…mmmm) and sate (which is actually an Indonesian/Malay dish, although it is more often found in Thai restaurants). Then back to my computer to continue work…

Idul Fitri

I spent the holiday of Idul Fitri in Yogya. Idul Fitri is the celebration that follows the month of fasting (Ramadan). As far as I can tell, Idul Fitri is the equivalent of Christmas in America. Everyone goes home to their families, eats lots of food, shops are closed, kids get money and clothes as gifts, and travel can be hellacious.

The holiday begins when the new moon can be seen. This is a matter of some debate, and has a funny effect: some Muslims celebrate Hari Raya (King Day, the day after breaking fast) on Friday, and the others celebrate on Saturday. Why? There are two major Muslim organizations in Indonesia. One calculates the appearance of the new moon, while the other uses powerful telescopes to visualize the moon. This year, the calculations and the visualization conflicted, and Hari Raya was celebrated on two different days, depending on which Muslim organization people chose to follow. Thus some people were still fasting on Friday, while others were already stuffing themselves with food! Traditional food for Idul Fitri includes kecapan, rice wrapped in leaves and boiled, as well as a chicken coconut curry.

My host family here in Yogya is Muslim, and the whole family was in town to celebrate; my host mother has 5 children, who all have spouses, who all have kids, so the house was filled with people! After about an hour of being social, I tried to escape to an internet café to work, only to find that almost all businesses are closed during this holiday. This was unfortunate, given that I’m trying to finish a grant application and require online access.

Gunung Merapi

Right now the time is 4 pm, Saturday afternoon. I haven’t slept since Friday at 5 am. Why? Last night I, along with other Realia students, hiked Gunung Merapi ("Mountain of Fire"), a volcanic mountain that towers over Yogyakarta. The mountain erupts frequently (the last time was 2006, when people along the slopes of the mountain were evacuated because of active lava flows) but is relatively quiet right now. The summit is about 2900 meters above sea level. See pictures here.

We began our journey at 10 pm Friday night, when a van and driver picked us up in Yogya and brought us along a windy road up into the mountains. We arrived in Selo, a small village on the slopes of Merapi, at about midnight. Sleepy and a bit disoriented, we piled into a small house and were offered tea and arak (hard alcohol made from rice). The arak was a surprise to me, because most people I’ve met in Jawa are Muslim and do not drink alcohol. Our hosts were drinking the arak with red bull and coke! I wonder if they learned this technique from foreign friends…

After hanging out at the house until 1 pm, we started the hike. The group consisted of: two guides, myself, Dessy, two women from Canada, and two men from Canada. Everyone was in high spirits as we started, and there was plenty of talking and laughing, at least for the first hundred-or-so feet of the climb. The steep slope and high elevation (we started the hike at around 1000 meters asl) affected everyone’s ability to converse, and the party became quiet as we started concentrating on breathing and finding good footholds on the slippery trail.

The hike was dreamlike for me: in the dark, quiet, with just a bit of moon and starlight and headlamps when the trail got rocky. It was hard to tell what kind of land use we were traveling through (given the darkness of the night) but my impression was of hiking through terraced agriculture fields. The walk was very steep, and as we climbed the temperature became almost uncomfortably cold. At about 2:30 am we heard the calls from the mosque in the village below, announcing the morning meal before puasa. One of our guides was planning to fast the coming day, so he ate and drank at this time.

At 4:30 am we arrived at a small plateau from which we could see the top of the mountain not too far above. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten, and we googled at the landscape of Java covered with clouds and dotted with old volcanoes. One of the guides and I decided to continue to the top of the mountain to see sunrise, while the rest of the party stayed below. As we walked up the hill I used my newly-learned Indonesian language to ask our guide all the questions I could think of. Perhaps the most interesting answers he gave were about his life: he grew up on Irian Jaya (Papua) but moved to Java about six years ago because his parents wanted to return to their native island (they were “transmigrated” to Papua by a government relocation program).

After a demanding and steep hike over a rocky slope, we finally reached the summit in time to rest and see the sun rise, a spectacular site. The top of the mountain is obviously volcano, with yellow sulfur deposits all around and rotten-egg-smelling steam spouting from the rocks. The top of the mountain was totally silent – no wind, no noise from the villages below, no talking. I’ve very rarely experienced such absolute and spectacular lack of noise. After taking sunrise pictures to my heart’s content, we made our way down the mountain, back to reality and the business of the city.

Borobodur

This morning Dessy and I took a class fieldtrip to Borobodur, which used to be one of the seven wonders of the world (although it is not longer on the list – trumped by Angkor Wat in Cambodia, I think). Borobodur is a Buddhist temple built in the 9^th century by Mahayana Buddhists, and later abandoned and covered by volcanic ash and tropical forest. The story of the temple’s existence was passed from generation to generation on Java, until an English governor in the early 1800s rediscovered and uncovered the monument.

Dessy, myself, and two guides from Realia arrived at the monument at about 9 am before there were many tourists in the area. Like many tourist traps, the grounds were crawling with vendors selling their wares, and I felt a bit like a mouse in an open field, vulnerable to the vulture-like vendors who followed our group until the official trail to the temple where they are not allowed to enter. After shaking the vendors, we were able to take our first look at the temple or chandi as they say in the Indonesian language.

My first impression? The temple is in great condition; it was renovated by UNESCO about 20 years ago and the renovation replaced the missing stones and contributed to the longevity of the structure. Compared to the temples I saw in Thailand last year (which were built in the same time period) this temple is in fabulous shape.

The chandi is covered with about 500 stupas that contain buddha figures (and traditionally also buddha relics), and consists of eight levels, representing the eight steps to enlightenment. The lower levels are richly decorated with narrative relief depicting stories such as the life of Buddha. The most interesting part of the temple is the main stupa, which is not decorated like the rest of the building. Some people think the lack of decoration represents the lack of worldly ties of the last level of enlightenment. Others think that construction was simply not yet complete when the chandi was covered by ash. I prefer to believe the former.

After lots of photos and laughing (four girls all with good senses of humor make for a fun morning) we left the temple and headed home. In theory this was supposed to be an Indonesian-learning experience, but in my mind it was tourism, which I’ve done very little of so far in Indonesia. I’m packing in the tourist experiences today – this evening we are leaving to climb Gunung Merapi (an active volcano in the region) to see sunrise from the summit. More soon!

Realia Party - Buka Puasa

Yesterday I joined in the fast again, because my language school was hosting a “buka puasa” celebration for students and teachers. See pictures here. After fasting all day, again a challenge for me (this time because I didn’t manage to eat much at 3 am due to the early hour and my lack of appetite), we gathered at the school at about 5:30 pm. Everyone sat in a circle on the ground and one of the female English teachers opened the gathering with some nice words in Indonesian…and asked me to translate to English! Eek. Without butchering her meaning too much, I managed to translate for everyone. This was an empowering experience, and showed me how far my language has come from four months ago when I arrived barely knowing how to say “good afternoon”.

Next, everyone in the room politely attacked the large table of food and drink provided for breaking the fast. I gulped down a few glasses of water and then savored the sensation of food…eating is so satisfying when its been 14 hours since your last meal!

After a fun and social time at the school, many of the younger teachers and students headed to a nearby restaurant called “Special Sambal.” This is my favorite place to eat in Yogya because it has a nice atmosphere (sitting on the ground on mats with all light coming from candles or lamps), cheap food (about $2 for a huge meal), and very spicy options (about 20 different kinds of chile paste…yum yum). We hung out here for hours, talking and playing silly games. The atmosphere was wonderfully normal – almost like hanging out with good friends from the US, and I realize now how much I’ve been missing this kind of easy and fun social interaction while in Indonesia.

Ramayana Ballet

Last night I joined other Indonesian students at Realia plus a couple of teachers, at the Ramayana Ballet. Pictures are here. I was curious to see the differences between this version of Ramayana and the performance I attended last year in Bangkok. Here, the dance/story is held weekly at “Prambanan”, an ancient Hindu temple near Yogya and the biggest of it's kind in Java.

When we arrived at Prambanan, the first thing we noticed was the temple, which was spectacularly powerful as it loomed over the outdoor stage. We were a bit late to the show but it didn’t matter since the performance was three hours long. The dancers were dressed in colorful costumes – often with headdresses – and true to the Ramayana story there were too many characters to keep track of. Dancing was similar to what I saw in Thailand, with women taking very small steps in long skirts, while men had bigger, bolder movements. All the dancers were very expressive with their hands, although right angles seem to be the hand style (as opposed to the perfect curves of Thai hands when doing traditional dance).

The ballet was danced to traditional Indonesian music – gamelan – played by a group of musicians sitting on an elevated stage behind the dancers. Gamelan is beautiful, though it has a very different aesthetic than western music. Often the band sounds discordant to my classical and jazz-trained ears, but somehow the total result is emotional and beautiful.

The Ramayana story is long and complicated, and you can learn more about it here if you are interested. Although most Indonesian people are not Hindu (the religion was strong here many centuries ago) the ballet which originated in India has remained an important part of Yogya culture. Perhaps the most spectacular part of the performance was when they burned two large piles of straw on the stage – although my group was sitting perhaps 200 meters from the flames, we could feel the heat from the fire. This sort of thing would never be allowed in the US because of the fear of burning down a building. For once I happy about the lack of (enforced) safety regulations in Indonesia – this country never fails to remind me how “safe” Americans can be!

Fasting

Most of my friends are Muslim and fasting right now. Currently I’m living in a rumah kos which houses all-Muslim students (except for myself, of course). They wake up at 3 am every morning and eat breakfast together, and then pray. At about 5 pm they gather again to buka puasa. Given this arrangement, I decided to try fasting today, just to see what it feels like. I woke up at 3 am and wandered drowsily to the eating area, where I unhappily (because eating at 3 am after sleeping for four hours is not a nice experience) consumed some rice and a breadfruit-chicken concoction that is a specialty of Yogya. Knowing I would not be able to drink for the next 14 hours, I consumed at least 5 glasses of water and fell back into bed ready to sleep again.

I woke up and was immediately thirsty. Perhaps this was just my imagination or extra-sensitivity to water on this fasting day, but it was not a good way to begin my fasting experience. I went to Indonesian Language class all day, and was okay in the morning but in the afternoon felt extremely thirsty and could not concentrate in class. For some reason hunger was not a sensation while fasting – maybe because the thirst was so overpowering? After class finished I decided to take a walk and distract myself from the thirst. This was a good tactic because the last two hours of puasa flew by. At 5:40 pm, after a quick bath, I joined my friends in my rumah kost and drank the best glass of tea I’ve ever tasted. The sensation of tea on the tongue and in the throat was amazing after no liquid for so long. Surprisingly, I only wanted to eat a little (but drink a lot). My analysis of puasa? I think restricting liquid intake is not a good thing for body processes, and I will not do it again. However, restricting food intake is an interesting and possibly positive experience, especially when a group of friends are supporting and joining me in this experience. After fasting all day and eating a bit I felt very relaxed and happy. I may puasa again, but only with food – being thirsty for 10 hours is a very unpleasant experience! I also have incredible respect for all Indonesians who fast for a month, I don’t think I have the willpower to do it!

Ramadan: The month of fasting

In Indonesia, about 85% of citizens claim Islam as their religion, and many of these people observe the fasting month of Ramadan. In the Indonesian language, the word for fasting is “puasa”. The Ramadan fasting tradition has very specific rules: people cannot eat, drink, smoke, drink coffee, or have sex from before sunrise (around 4 am) to sunset (around 5:30 pm). The purpose of the fast is manifold and main reasons for fasting include a need to clean oneself in the eyes of Allah, to learn how to control desires and emotions, to understand the feelings of hunger and thirst, and perhaps most important the belief that a person is truly Muslim only if he or she observes the fast each year. The result is that many restaurants are not open during the day, and everyone is even slower and more relaxed than normal since they are dehydrated and perhaps have low blood sugar during the workday. The slow-down effect includes government workers – a few weeks ago I read a report about government employees who were reprimanded for shopping at the mall during office hours! Apparently this is a common problem during Ramadan. Because the majority of Indonesian people cannot eat during the day at this time of year, it is considered a bit rude to be seen eating or drinking on the street. I must be careful to eat only in restaurants if I go out for breakfast or lunch, and then only if the restaurants cover their windows so that diners cannot be seen from outside.

Children learn how to fast around age 7, bribed by treats such as trips to McDonalds or toys. Often children are only expected to fast for part of the day, until 10 am or noon or 3 am. By the time they reach high-school age, most practicing Muslims are fasting throughout the day. The hour of breaking the fast or "buka puasa", at about 5:40 pm, has become my favorite time of the day because it is filled with such excitement and is (of course) highly-anticipated. When the fasting breaks, mosques announce the moment with joyful chanting and there is very little traffic because everyone is eating or drinking. Typical food for buka puasa is fruit with syrup, hot sweet tea, fried bananas, and other treats rich in simple sugars and fats.

Yogya Dua

Back in Yogya! I'm here for a month to get a better handle on the language. The minute I stepped off the plane from Ponti I had a good feeling about this place (and not because the weather is dryer and cooler than Kalimantan, but that helps too =). Currently I'm staying at a very traditional Muslim rumah kost with my friend Dessy. The kost is run by a wonderful grandmotherly woman who feeds us constantly with sometimes-delicious, sometimes-strange Javanese food and who has surprisingly good english skills. I'll be going to school full time (6 hours of one-on-one training per day) and also working on some grant proposals while here. school starts tomorrow so I have to get my beauty sleep (and find some dinner in the form of super-spicy javanese food that I'm in love with). Sampai jumpa!

A Hell's Angel

Well, at least the first step in that direction. Today I learned how to ride a motorbike! I've been bugging my friends for about a month now, asking them to teach me how to use a "motor" as they are called in Indonesia. Four of my male friends (and coworkers) took me to a deserted parking lot at the local university and showed me the basics of bike riding. First, I should mention that just like cars motorbikes come in two flavors: automatic and manual. Manual transmission is usual here, and the bike I learned on was manual.

After going over the basics of motorbike operation (how to start the bike, how many gears (4), how to work the kickstand, how to stop) one of my friends sat behind me on the bike as I inched my way forward in second gear. Balance on a motorbike is surprisingly easy -- more so than a bike -- and the braking system is reassuring with a front AND back break. My confidence high after successfully navigating around the parking lot, my friends decided that I should drive around campus, on REAL streets with other cars and people. Eek! I soon discovered that motorbikes are actually very safe -- they are incredibly easy to control and steer, and SUPER FUN to drive. I'm a convert. Too bad New Haven is cold and snowy most of the year, or I would sell my car and trade it in for a motorbike in a second.

I haven't yet attempted driving on a big street (the drivers in Pontianak are crazy, even by Indonesian standards) but my friends promise that future lessons will include heavy traffic lessons.

Enough for now. Tomorrow I'm flying to Yogyakarta for a month of language lessons. I'm half happy, half sad to leave Ponti -- I've been here for two weeks straight now, and its been very nice to stay in one place for a relatively long time. On the other hand this place can be terribly boring, and Yogya is a young city with plenty of nightlife and activities, so it promises to be more fun than Ponti-land!

No Earthquakes In Borneo

For all of you who have emailed me concerned about tsunamis/earthquakes here in Borneo, thanks for the concern but don't worry!

Borneo is a very safe place because it is in the middle of a tectonic plate (thus no earthquakes) and is protected from tsunamis by the neighboring islands (at least this is what my Indonesian friends tell me). The two biggest dangers to my life here are man-made: motorbikes and airplanes.

If you have friends living in Sumatra you have reason to be concerned, as a big earthquake hit the area wednesday night and there have been tsunami warnings issued for the region all week.

Vacation! (sort of)

Ramadan starts tomorrow. Muslims fast from 4 am to 6 pm during this holiday, so physical labor is hard to swallow, and since most of my co-workers are Muslim we will not go to the field during this time. Thus, a holiday for Kim!!

I will go to Yogya for a couple weeks to study language, and then the totally typical tourist thing: Bali, baby. Yoga, massage, snorkeling, and hopefully some kayaking as well. And as little bahasa indonesia as I can stomach.

I'll be in Pontianak for the next week (no traveling for a week? crazy!) writing and doing data entry, and will try to post more regularly from now on.

Western vs. Eastern Medicine

People here don't know much about modern medicine, and don’t have access to adequate medical care. Today I witnessed a very disturbing scene: a girl age 13 got in a fight at school and was kneed in the chest. Dessy and I stopped by the house where she lived about one hour after the accident. She was on the floor of the common room surrounded by family and villagers. Someone had smeared red color on her bare chest and forehead. She was supported by her mother and sisters, who were massaging her hands and feet. She was breathing quickly in small gasps and every five minutes or so she would go stiff, arch her back, and scream, apparently in lots of pain. The nearest medical facility is about one day travel from Pankalan Jihing, and the nearest medical officer (not a doctor) about 2 hours away. Luckily the girl recovered, but more serious health emergencies usually end in death due to the lack of immediately available medical care.

Western medical knowledge, even among my friends from the city, is limited. My coworkers believe, for example, that tuberculosis is a genetic disease because if a mother has the disease the children may also have tb. They also don’t know what antibiotics are for (what? You can’t treat a virus with antibiotics?), and think that rashes are a result of being cold. All of this is very disturbing to me, and I hope I can send the SIMPUR staff to first-aid school upon return to Pontianak.

On the other hand, traditional knowledge about medicinal properties of local plants and animals is incredible. Almost every day, a village guide will point out a new plant that has some medicinal property - prevents headache, calms rashes, helps treat malaria symptoms, is a sleeping aid, etc. On the boat on the way from Mensubang to Ketapang a few weeks ago, a man gave me bees' nests, which when ground up and taken with water are supposed to help treat cancer. I'm sure the effectiveness of these treatments varies, but I'm also sure some of the treatments are effective and also perhaps unknown to the western pharmaceutical industry.

Pangkalan Jihing

We are now in a village called Pangkalan Jihing. Like Nek Doyan, this place is also dominated by logging, and the logging income has made many people here rich. Even though the village is fairly remote many of the houses here are ornate and new. WE are staying with the kepala dusun (head of subvillage) who is a very stern man and suspicious of our activities. This man is a logging boss, and it shows – his house is huge and beautiful, and includes an indoor shower and toilet – whoohoo!

Today one of my team members came down with chicken pox. Funny: I was expecting to encounter all sorts of strange diseases here in the Asian tropics but all I've seen are chicken pox, head colds, and of course the unavoidable diarrhea. This incident, plus some smaller health problems in the team (impacted wisdom teeth, bee stings, rashes) make me eager to enroll in further first aid training when I get back to the US, and perhaps to bring a medical reference to the field with me as well. Then I would know, for example, how contagious chicken pox is, and how best to treat unknown rashes.

Dogs vs. Cats

Unlike the previous villages we’ve visited, Nek Doyan is dominated by Christian/Dayak people, not by Muslim/Melayu people. The difference is immediately obvious when you look at the animal population. In Melayu villages, there are very few dogs, and no pigs, but plenty of cats. In Dayak villages, there are lots of dogs and pigs, but fewer cats. My Muslim coworkers (like most Muslims) strongly dislike dogs and pigs, and are actually afraid to be within a 10-food radius of a dog. I think it is difficult for my friends to live in a Dayak village because of the dog issue. I, on the other hand, prefer the Dayak villages because there are fewer rules – Non-Muslims are allowed to drink alcohol, non-Muslim women can wear any clothing they’d like, and Dayaks seem to have a more flexible perspective of the world (at least this is my analysis).

Bee Sting

Today I got stung by a bee. Ouch! This was bound to happen sooner or later – working in the forest we run into all sorts of dangers, from rotting bridges to snakes to bees. Nevertheless, I believe the forest is safer than riding a motorbike in this country.

The bee experience was my second in the tropics, and quite a bit nicer than the first time (in costa rica). My coworker and our guide (Abang Abing – funny name!!) were walking down a hill. I was the last one in line, and I noticed that my coworker and Abing were suddenly running and yelling. Of course they were yelling in Indonesian (probably something logical like: “Run! Bees!”) which I didn’t understand, but somehow I understood that I should also run away. I started dashing up the hill as a very large (quarter sized) black object buzzed by me and suddenly my leg was burning and I was slapping my pants because it hurt like he**. Upon later inspection I learned that these were not small honey-bee type stings, but nasty things that swelled immediately to the area of a small pancake and throbbed for three days straight. Luckily I escaped with only one sting, my coworker two, and our guide none.

Nek Doyan

Nek Doyan is a logging-dominated village. Most men here earn a living by logging, and the only other major village income source is durian. Durian season comes one month per year (December), which makes logging the main activity for the majority of the year. Our host in Nek Doyan is a Muslim hunter, and his wife. Their house is dank and dark, and compared to the other places we’ve stayed not the nicest atmosphere. But the people are nice and the food is good, so I can’t complain too loudly. A medium-sized river runs behind the house, thus only a few steps to the place to bathe and wash clothes.

In the field today my teammate and I visited many, many, durian gardens. In case you don’t know, durian is a tropical fruit that is very expensive and smells like poo. Some people love the taste of durian, and others hate it. Durian trees in the region where I am working can be huge, more than 50 meters tall and over 100 cm DBH. These large trees were planted by the ancestors of the people who now live in the village, and were handed down from father to son (or daughter) so that the same family has harvested durian from the same trees for decades. The trees can be very close to the housing area, or as much as a two-hour walk away. I’m very sad I can’t be in the region during durian season (I’m in the “love durian” camp) but perhaps next year…

Back to the field

This time I traveled alone – I had to finish a report for the Indonesian Science Agency to fulfill my visa requirements, so stayed behind in Ponti for a day while the rest of the team continued on to our next study site, a village called Nek Doyan. After finishing the report, I flew to Ketapang and then rode on the back of a motorbike (with my laptop and two backpacks) four hours to our study site. Exhausting, yet exhilarating as well to get around via motorbike. I hope to learn to drive one someday soon…

Haircut

Haircut. Yes, I did it: my hair is now about an inch long. The decision came after my hair was snagged in rattan for the nth time. Now fieldwork will be much easier, my hair will be easier to care for, but I do miss the long blond curls…

The haircut itself was quite an experience. I walked into the salon on a Sunday evening, and tried to explain that I wanted my hair short. The hairdresser seemed to understand. First he washed my hair, and then unsuccessfully tried to brush it. Eventually I got fed up with the ineffective tugging with a comb, and offered to brush my own hair to speed up the process. After the brushing, my hairdresser started cutting. But he was not brave – each time he would cut off about 2 inches all the way around, and I would instruct him to cut more. This happened about 4 times until he finally got the idea that I wanted really, really short hair and he exclaimed, “Like a boy!” Umm, yeah, like a boy. After an hour-long haircut process, I walked out of the salon with a decent haircut which only cost $2, such a great deal!

Men Working Wood

Today was our second day with the National Geographic photographers. The plan was to drive to a village called Cali and take photos of illegal logging. We met our driver at 5 am in front of the hotel, and immediately realized the trip would be uncomfortable: the vehicle we hired was like a Jeep Cherokee, but without a trunk. When we packed ourselves and gear into the jeep we noticed another problem. The front passenger seat was broken, so the passenger couldn't put any weight on the seat back. So instead of the largest person in the front seat, Dessy (small Indonesian) sat in the front seat and the photographers and I (large Swedes) packed into the back like sardines. To top it off it was raining as we left (and had been all night) so the road was slippery as well as the usual bumpy.

After driving two hours we arrived in Manjau, the village we finished surveying just a week ago! Instead of continuing to Cali as planned, we stopped in Manjau hoping to find illegal logging. But the rain was problematic; loggers (like most human beings, I think) don't like to work in the rain, and we didn't hear chainsaws all morning. In the afternoon, a bit discouraged, we finally heard chainsaws and excitedly found guides to take us to the source of the noise.

Illegal logging is a very sensitive issue here in Ketapang District, and our guides were reluctant to take us to the chainsaw noise. They finally agreed after talking with us for a while; I think the three tall blonde tourist-like buleh probably looked so ridiculous we were not threatening.

After walking for about an hour, we found the "orang kerja kayu" (man working wood) in the middle of a burned area, cutting a small partly burnt fallen tree for firewood. So sad! But the photographers took some photos anyway, before hiking back to the road.

We packed into the car again (after taking a few photos of us with the villagers) and started the long drive home, tired and slightly defeated. But as we were driving along the road, we noticed a small river with many people standing nearby, and....timber! A red flag for logging. We hopped out of the car and discovered a very interesting phenomenon: transportation of belian (a high-value timber, so dense it will not float) via rafts, from forest to trucks waiting along the road. Loggers cut the timber into 2-by-4s and nail the 2-by-4s to poles to make a raft that will float. Then the loggers string the rafts together with twine or vines and guide them down the river, two guides per raft.

We stayed at this "port" for a couple of hours. The photographers took many photos while Dessy and I chatted with the workers. Some of the workers are extremely young - maybe 10 years old, already learning to be loggers. Sad, because logging is very tough work.

As it started to get dark outside, we hopped in the car and headed back to home sweet hotel in Ketapang. Upon arrival at the hotel (after a long trip that included a flat tire) we unexpectedly met with the minister of forestry in West Kalimantan. He was in an incredibly bad mood due to an incredible amount of wood (all illegal) that had shown up on the nearby Pawan River. The reason? The military operation against illegal logging finished last week, and all the wood that has been hidden for the last four months is now being shipped to market.

Now to bed...we return to ponti tomorrow by private plane, so posh!

National Geographic Fun

Today was the first day of a three-day trip with national geographic photographers in West Kalimantan. We started the trip with a flight from Pontianak to Ketapang in a little, red, 6-seater prop plane. I love flying, and this was (almost) flying heaven: a view of a beautiful tropical landscape from a relatively low elevation (we flew at 3000 ft) , low enough to see details like houses and boats. The day was cloudy but not rainy, and the hour-long flight was exhilarating.

After touching down in the Ketapang airport, we took a car to a hotel in town and dropped our stuff off before heading to the field. The plan for the day: go south to a large bauxite mine and try to photograph the mine workers. We rented a car and jumped in, and I immediately fell asleep. Upon awaking, I saw we had arrived in a small village, where there was a little shop to eat lunch. After grabbing a bite to eat (predictably ice tea, rice, vegetables, and fish) we got back in the car and headed to the bauxite mine.

Bauxite is an aluminum ore. In Ketapang, bauxite mining involves finding a small mountain, asking the government to give you this mountain, and after getting permission, leveling the mountain to get at the bauxite underneath. Not the most environmentally sensitive process. At the bauxite mine we visited, they were in the process of leveling two mountains with an incredible array of heavy-duty equipment. The mine is open 24 hours per day, seven days per week, and there are enough mountains left in the area to last for years....

The photographers asked our driver to quietly take us to a little hill overlooking the mine. They scrambled down a slope and sneaked up on a large pipe spewing mud, to take photographs from a variety of places with different light levels. My fellow researcher Dessy was asked to model in a few pictures -- who knows, perhaps she will make it to the front cover of national geographic! After taking pictures from afar we drove to the mine and the photographers again scrambled up a large pile of stones (bauxite, actually) to a rubber belt that transports the bauxite to waiting trucks. I did my best to distract the workers from the silly Swedes with the cameras by pretending to be a silly Swedish tourist. The tactic worked for a bit, but eventually we were asked whether we had permits. At that point, we high-tailed it out of the mining area for fear of being told to meet with the boss, or worse.

In the afternoon we rented a speed boat and zoomed up a nearby river to find the barges that transport bauxite away from Kalimantan, perhaps to Java or Malaysia. The afternoon was beautiful, with rainbows and sun and a cool wind generated by the speed boat. My blog will get sappy now...close your eyes if you must. Sometimes I can hardly believe that I'm able to work in this beautiful place called Kalimantan, I feel so thankful that I can do this work! Moments like these make all the hassle of navigating Indonesia worthwhile. Okay, you can open your eyes now =)

Tomorrow we go chasing illegal logging in Cali.

Jakarta again

Spent the weekend in Jakarta, where I met up with a couple of friends from the Yale forestry program who are traveling in the region right now. I also picked up some field equipment from a co-worker, and…wait for it…went salsa dancing! I think I found the only salsa dancing scene in Jakarta. Amazing live salsa music (we couldn’t decide whether the singer was Asian or Latina, but she had a perfect Latina accent), and some decent and very friendly dancers. Social dancing is funny – even in the middle of Indonesia (very different from western culture) the culture of social dance is the same as in the west: goofy, energetic, friendly and talented dancers willing to share dance with anyone who is interested. Tomorrow we start overflights with national geographic, which should be exciting and informative. I love seeing the big picture!

Mind the gap!

Sorry to everyone who noticed the large and unannounced gap in posting. We were rather unexpectedly in the field for about 1.5 weeks. I’m very happy to be back in Pontianak, where I am resting in all senses possible: my stomach is taking a break from rice, my head is taking a break from Indonesian, and I’ve slept most of the last couple of days. Field work is wonderful but also draining, and I need to stay in marathon mode instead of sprinting. More about this second field experience soon...

Riam Berasap

This weekend our team took a vacation and hiked to a beautiful waterfall in Gunung Palung National Park called “Riam Berasap”, which means smoky waterfall. The hike was arranged by a team member who has worked in the area in the past and has some good connections with park officers. The expedition was 13 people: Myself, seven SIMPUR team members, a village leader, a national park officer, and three village members. We hiked for about four hours on a “jalan tikus” (mouse trail) through the woods near a large river in the park. Before entering the park we were briefed about correct conduct in the area: no whistling and no comments about nature (e.g., I cannot exclaim about the large size of the fish in the river). We also prayed before entering the forest, which was admittedly the first time I had ever paid nature such respect before embarking on a backpacking trip.

Unlike backpacking in the US, where camping equipment is small and lightweight and self-contained, here they really set up house in the woods. We brought large pots, pans, plates and cups for everyone, 5 kilos of rice (which we ate all of – Indonesians cannot survive without rice, apparently), fresh vegetables, tarps as tents, and lots of fishing equipment. It was a beautiful and relaxing couple of days in the woods, and allowed me to let go of all the stress that fieldwork brings. I let my brain take a break from bahasa Indonesia, and spent most of my time swimming and reading English books, instead of talking and listening.

The waterfall itself is not the most beautiful, or the tallest, or the biggest I’ve seen. However, a huge, deep pool exists downstream of the waterfall, and the pool is ringed with large stones for sitting, relaxing, and fishing. The water is a bit cool, but tropical and definitely swimming temperature. Paradise.

We made this trip at the right time, because usually the buzz of saws from illegal logging can be heard throughout the forest. However, we did not hear chainsaws or encounter any recent logging activity, although it was obvious the area has been heavily logged within the last couple of years.

Thoughts in Manjau

Learning Indonesian is probably the most difficult thing I’m doing this summer. Not because it is difficult in the intellectual sense – I’m happy with my progress – but difficult in terms of the energy learning requires! Every night I fall into bed exhausted. At first I thought my tiredness could be blamed on the hard physical labor we are doing every day, but I think learning Indonesian is even more draining. Whether I choose to listen or not, when people talk Indonesian around me my brain is constantly trying to process the conversation, and understand. This, added to the fact that I usually try to be an active listener, means that my brain is in overdrive – thinking and talking consciously in English, and subconsciously learning Indonesian. I’ve never done language immersion like this before and I find it very interesting to take a step back and think about the language learning process from an observer’s perspective.

Other thoughts? Manjau is a really beautiful and kind village, but it has its sad side just like any other place. Today I visited an old man who seemed near death. I’ve never seen anyone so skinny before, and it was difficult and disturbing to look at him. He is receiving basically no medical care – the hospital rejected him (I suspect he has lung cancer or some other terminal disease) – and his family is treating him with herbs. The house where he lives was filled with people when I arrived – maybe twenty villagers, of all ages, male and female. It made me think about end of life issues – in the US, the same man would probably be in the hospital, possibly with the support of his family but without a whole community of people with him as he passes on. Eek…depressing thoughts…I promise I’ll write about something nicer next time!

Coffee and MSG

In Indonesia, rice has many names. When the rice is growing in the field, it is called “padi”. When harvested, dried, but not yet cooked, it is called “beras”. After cooking, it is generally called “nasi”.

There are two kinds of coconut here. Kelapa muda (young coconut) is for eating and drinking fresh. Kelapa tua (old coconut) is for cooking and flavor.

Why do I tell you all this? Today I had one of the most interesting coffee drinks thus far – a mix of roasted coffee, beras, and kelapa tua, with some sugar to boot. Amazing, rich, smoky flavor. Maybe such a drink exists elsewhere in the world, but I am fairly certain this combination can only be found in Kalimantan.

The only problem I have with the food here in Manjau is the incredible amounts of MSG they use as flavoring. Everything, even the sweet dishes, contain MSG. This is unfortunate, because my body does not deal well with this particular food additive, and I get a stomachache after every meal. Luckily other than the MSG, however, food is quite yummy and much more interesting than in Cali or Mensubang, because of the better market access in Manjau.

Jalan Jalan

Long, long day. After breakfast we walked from our house to the village water source. This is the first village I’ve visited that actually has water piped to the village area, instead of taking water directly from a river or well. The water source is a stream near an area called “Gua Maria”, which means “Cave Mary”. The whole area is very Catholic, with crosses next to the river, a chapel that is a strange mix of Dayak and Christian symbols. Because we had an extra day, to prevent everyone (including myself) from becoming bored I decided to conduct a water survey, to see where folks in the village really get their water. I had a hunch that although there is water available via pipe, there are other drinking water and irrigation sources in the village.

While half the team walked around the village conducting this water use survey, myself and three other teammates acquired a couple of motorbikes and drove to a neighboring village, Nek Doyan. Our objective was to meet with the Kepala Dusun of Nek Doyan and ask permission to survey the village in a couple weeks. After we talked with the Kepala Dusun, we had most of the day left, so we decided to drive east to see an oil palm plantation, protected area, and make contact with another potential study site village near the Pawan River.

I believe I’ve already blogged about the difficulties of riding a motorbike over bad roads for long periods of time. It seems like an easy thing – you just sit behind the driver and look around, right? Wrong! If the road is bad, the passenger always has to be ready for the next bump or pothole or bridge or slippery spot, and when these obstacles present themselves the passenger must hold on (with hands and feet and knees) for dear life, as to not be bounced off the back of the bike. If the motorbike goes up a steep slope, or passes through mud, or navigates a narrow bridge, the passenger must get off and walk. If the bike gets stuck in mud, the passenger helps to get it unstuck. After five hours of riding on the bike, I was exhausted. However, upon return to Manjau I immediately had to mandi (bathe) and get ready for the evening’s map-making meeting.

As usual, the map-making was an informative process, where the team learned about the village layout, local perceptions of land use, and a bit about the local political situation as well. After a long three hour meeting to make the map, and another hour to arrange with village guides, our teams returned home tired but excited to get into the field tomorrow.

Manjau

Today we left for the field again. This trip was a bit rushed and definitely unexpected, as we returned from the field only a week ago. The plan was to recover and enter data for a week, then meet up with a couple of national geographic photographers who want to do a story about the region. However, the photographers were delayed until mid-august so we decided to go to the field again and finish mapping another village in the interim.

The survey village is called Manjau, and is the first ethnically Dayak villager that we’ve worked in thus far. In Ketapang, there are two broad classes of native people. Melayu are river people, and are almost all Muslim. They don’t eat pig or drink alcohol, and most do not keep dogs. Dayak are forest people, and are generally Christian although they used to be animists before conversion by missionaries. Dayaks drink arak (fermented rice beverage), eat pig, and keep dogs. The physical difference in appearance between Dayak and Melayu people is not obvious to me, but the dogs and the pigs tend to distinguish Dayak from Melayu houses. In Manjau, all the Muslims live in one part of the village, the protestants live in another area, and the Catholics in yet another. Apparently this minimizes conflicts among cultures.

Manjau is very near to Gunung Palung National Park, and thus the residents of Manjau are used to buleh in the region. This fact came as a happy surprise to me; I have not yet been stared at or “hello mister”ed. The village is in a beautiful valley that somehow reminds me of home in Montana. When we arrived (at about 6 pm at night, after a full day of travel from Pontianak – by truck, speed boat, and motorbike) a warm wind was blowing, very unusual in the tropics but wonderfully pleasant.

Our hosts in Ketapang are a woman named Mama and her husband, the head of the local masjid (mosque). Mama is a character, and talks to me quickly in Indonesian as if I’ll eventually understand what she is saying if she talks enough. She definitely fills the Mom role, telling everyone to “makanyo” and “minumya” (eat and drink) constantly. A daughter-in-law and her 1 year old son also stay in the house, as does a brother-in-law and a random old man. I honestly have no idea while the old man is there, as he has not yet spoken a word and does not eat with the family.

Tomorrow we will meet with the Kepala Dusun and start our mapping activities, but now it is time for bed!

White People in Ponti

Last night I spoke English with two Canadians for about 4 hours! It was fun, and made me remember that I am in fact not an aberration – there are other people in this world with blonde hair, blue eyes, and white skin. I met the first Canadian, Michelle, at the grocery store about three weeks ago, just before leaving for the field. She sent me an sms last night an invited me to a birthday party for one of her students (Michelle teaches English to Indonesians in Pontianak). I happily accepted the invitation and arrived at the party where I met the second Canadian who works with villages along the Kapuas river helping them to build sand filtration systems for drinking water, as well as a couple of Dutch women who do physiotherapy work with disabled orphans in Pontianak. Luckily I’ve retained at least some remedial English skills, and we had a blast complaining about the difficulties of being a foreigner in this country.

Tomorrow I fly to Jakarta (again) to pick up my passport and do some shopping.

Back to Civilization!

After three weeks of hard but wonderful work in two small villages in the center of Kalimantan, I'm back in Pontianak. I don't have the time or energy to write much tonight, but more will follow soon.

Last Day in Mensubang

Yesterday was our last day of field work in Mensubang. Yadi and walked the border between grass and rubber land uses across the river, and then took a sampan back home in the middle of an incredible downpour. It has been raining “cats and dogs” for the last five days in Mensubang, which has slightly impeded our field work but mostly means that we are constantly wet during the daytime. One effect of the rain is a rapidly rising river level; over the course of about five days the river level increased by at least 15 feet.

Yesterday morning I had one of my most embarrassing experiences to-date in Indonesia. I got up very early as usual (about 4:45 am, before sunrise) and walked down to the river. As I was walking the plank from the shore to the floating dock, I slipped and fell into the river…oops! The Indonesian woman sitting on the dock washing her clothes was at first appalled but then totally amused. Later that day all the Indonesians I saw giggled and asked me why I wanted to swim so early in the morning.

Today we leave for Ketapang, where I will meet with the oil palm company and ask permission to tour the plantation area. Then back home to Pontianak.

Fruit Craving

Today three team members, the kepala dusun, the village secretary, and I went to the oil palm plantation requesting to interview the plantation manager. Unfortunately, we were quickly told that we could not come to the plantation unless we had a letter from the company office in Ketapang. It was a disappointing day, but we made the best of it and instead of staying on the plantation for the remainder of the day, road-tripped (with three motorbikes and six people) to the nearby villages of Engkadin and Nanga Tayap. After three weeks in the boonies it was shocking to arrive in Nanga Tayap, where there are restaurants, cell phone reception, and even fruit for sale!

The lack of fruit and vegetables in this incredibly lush and productive landscape is very disappointing. In Thailand I was accustomed to an amazing variety of fruits and vegetables for sale in even the smallest towns. Here in Indonesia, because they don’t use fertilizer, there is very little fruit or vegetable available except during certain seasons of the year. Our field food usually consists of rice, dried fish (or sometimes fresh fish, if a trader comes by with fish for sale), a vegetable such as green beans, cabbage, or cassava leaves, and sometimes chili paste. Breakfast is fried rice, and snack is boiled or fried cassava root. Surprisingly, I feel quite healthy with this diet but am craving fruit. Sometimes a trader will come through town with watermelon, fried bananas, and oranges for sale – if we see him, we buy ALL of his fruit for ourselves and teammates. One day there was a man selling ice cream – despite the fact that I am supposed to avoid ice at all costs (they don’t generally boil the water used for ice) I couldn’t resist, and happily chowed down on home-made chocolate ice on a stick.

Oil Palm Plantation

We’ve been in Mensubang for four days, and the biggest story here is the oil palm company. When we arrived we learned that villagers were protesting against the company because it had bulldozed their lands without compensation. The oil palm company’s perspective is that the lands bulldozed were not being used (which is true), but the community’s perspective is that these areas belong to the community because in the past the community has cleared the areas. We are treading carefully with this issue, because we want to develop a working relationship both with the oil palm company and with the villagers.

The oil palm plantation is shocking -- the company is in the clearing and landscaping phase (only about 60 ha of 4,000 ha are currently planted with oil palm trees), and the plantation area looks like a moonscape, with no living things except a bit of grass here and there.

Arrival in Mensubang

Arrived in Mensubang via Bayangan (another village) today, after one of the most heart-stopping experiences of my life. The road from Cali to Mensubang is narrow, slippery, rocky, and hilly; we traversed this road with motorbikes and luggage. I often had to get off the bike and walk up hills, and a few times we skidded off the road. My Indonesian friends are totally fine with this kind of travel – they’ve been riding motorbikes since small – but my heart was in my throat the whole trip! To make a bad situation worse, my motorbike driver races bikes (“grass track”, the Ketapang equivalent of NASCAR) and he kept trying to show off his mad speed skills with the buleh on the back of his bike. In the middle of the trip, it started raining and the roads became muddy as well as slippery.

Despite the stressful trip, everyone arrived in Mensubang safely:

Here, we stay with the Kepala Desa in a beautiful house by the Pawan River. Unlike the river that runs in front of Cali, the Pawan is huge and important not only to village everyday life, but is the main mode of transportation for people that live along it. Canoes (sampan), motorboats, speed boats, and fishing boats can be seen on the river at all hours, and few people travel by motorbike. Mensubang spans both sides of the river, but all the houses are sprawled out along only one side, while community rubber farms are on the other side – there is no bridge to the opposite bank so all commuting to the rubber must be done by boat. The toilet and river are one in the same, and all drinking water is taken from here as well (and boiled before drinking). To my incredible surprise I didn't get sick in Mensubang, and I now have improved respect for the power of boiled water.

The best part of the river is the fact that I can swim in it!!! After the long motorbike ride swimming was a wonderful way to let go of all the stress and mud collected during our travels. The 7-year-old daughter of the kepala desa is a great swimmer, and we played in the water together for about ½ hour until it got dark. Tomorrow we meet with important village members and check out the village area.

No More Cameras, Please!

A hard, and long day in the field. We walked about 12 kilometers through swamp forest and on logging roads to get the GPS points needed to understand this border area. We also picked up another member – Tata – to complete our team (8 people).

Upon returning to Cali, I happily bathed and ate. We are leaving for Mensubang on Monday so tomorrow is our final day in the field. All the villagers came to the school tonight and wanted pictures with me (the buleh). Although tired, I obliged but I fear that the pictures will show a sleepy white girl trying to stay awake, instead of the celebrity they all think I am! Indonesians have an obsession with buleh – they want to touch me (my skin), to talk with me, and above all to take photos with me. Sometimes this is amusing but most often it is intrusive and tiresome.

Gunung Tarak

Friday the 13^th. Because Friday is a holy day in the Muslim religion, we have chosen to make Friday the day off each week. Indonesians are such diligent workers, however, that they decided to use the day off to catch up on data entry – yet another reason I love my teammates! After lunch and praying (Indonesian men must go to the mosque to pray each Friday) Yadi and I packed our bags and hiked to Gunung Tarak, a protected area near Cali. Our purpose was to pick up some compasses at a field station there, and to get some GPS points of the border between Cali and its northern neighbor.

The field station at Gunung Tarak is also run by SIMPUR HUTAN. The area has about 5, 2 kilometer-long transects where they are mist-netting bats, doing transect bird and mammal surveys, video-trapping mammals, and doing vegetation studies. Most of the area is swamp forest, and has been heavily logged (illegal logging) over the past 10 years. We could hear chainsaws during the walk to the field station.

At the field station I (as a white woman) was received with what can only be described as wariness. All of the workers at the field station are male, but I was able to find a private place to bathe and change, thank goodness. I learned a bit about the project at Gunung Tarak, and saw some beautiful video footage of orangutans taken just a few days earlier. The area is connected to a much larger national park (Gunung Palung) and is very biodiverse due to its protected status and proximity to such a large protected area. After dinner (dried fish and rice and chili and cassava leaves, standard fare in the field) I went to bed early, protected by a mosquito net.

A day of hiking

With a team of three men (Rohman, Yadi, Guide Bapak Asni) I hiked to the border of Cali with a neighboring village. This was the most enjoyable day of field work thus far – our objective was to simply collect a couple of GPS points so most of the time was spent walking and talking. The hike took us from the lowlands through forest which had been logged (industrially logged) in 2004, and then burned in 2006, and to the top of a peak overlooking cali and the village of Mensubang. Mensubang has oil palm, and the extent of the plantation was incredible – it filled most of the valley floor.

Bapak Asni is a man from Cali who earns a living by hunting. He knows these hills well, and had lots of stories and information for us as we walked. One of the highlights of the day was drinking water from a log (see picture below) and another was finding a group of orangutan nests. I have yet to see orangutans here, but monkeys are abundant.