When I landed on Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport, the immigration line was strangely short and I got through hassle free. Then I met up with other members of the first Asia Youth Forum team and boarded the bus for Pattaya, where we would stay at the Thammasat University Learning Campus.

The shock of the workload came and my media team partner Cindi and I got to work interviewing the trainers and writing up their profiles. When the participants arrived and the Karl Popper Debate Championship started, I did more interviews with all sorts of wonderful young people and coaches from Cambodia, Nepal, Laos, Palestine, Pakistan, Vietnam etc.

The media team head, Vanitha, my journalism trainer from the 2011 media camp in Chiang Mai, guided me in all my writings and has proven to be a great mentor with her experience as a sub-editor for the Star in Malaysia.

Needless to say, I’ve made so many amazing friends and it’s really not all about work. We held an entertaining culture night where I got to see costumes and traditional dances from many different countries and sampled food of all kinds (The chocolate lover in me squealed in delight at the Slovakian chocolate bars one of the trainers brought yum yum!).

Superbly embarrassing

The other Indonesians and I performed Iwak Peyek, a Dangdut song from Indonesia. It was most embarrassing and the audience couldn’t stop laughing at the ridiculous looking movements we were doing (We were doing more of a robo dangdut than dangdut).

We also had talent night where many participants showcased their talent. I played on my ukulele and my girlfriends did a fake Hawaiian dance along with the audience.

Of course, the late night swimming, beer, and other exciting things continue. To see photos and keep up with updates and articles I wrote, do check out the AYF 2012 website.

Food and handicrafts made of recycled products from NTT

“Come to NTT,” one of them told me, “It’s beautiful, like Switzerland.”

I don’t doubt it; Indonesia’s hidden natural beauty could rival the meadows of Switzerland. As much as I wanted the rest of the world to discover it, I am not sure if the country is ready to take on the responsibility of tourism and the potential destruction to the natural surroundings it could bring if not properly managed.

Jakarta is depressing; the city is polluted, the rivers are clogged with waste and factories lie in the heart of housing areas dumping chemical waste into the seas. I live near the sea, but it is by no means a beautiful sight, contrary to what condominium developers’ grandiose billboards of blue seas with white waves would have you believe. There is neither a beach nor a sidewalk, just a garbage dump of grey, waveless water filled with trash brought in by the current to the shore. In the backdrop, three giant chimneys pump large clouds of grey smoke into the air – the power plant is located right in the heart of my neighborhood, ironic for a place that experiences so many power outages.

The natural beauty of Flores, Indonesia

The environment has never been seen as an important issue by most of the population, and I think the period of the new order shaped the relatively young nation down a path that places a stronger emphasis on economic development and foreign investments. (We also joke that our Dutch colonials should have set better examples for it seems like British colonies are much more in order)

While I was in Berastagi with Institut Leimena (IL), we were excited to visit Tongging Point where we could see a magnificent view of the Lake Toba. It was with shock when our guide told us the entire place was owned by a Malaysian corporation. WHAT?! (According to the brochure, it is now owned by a Singapore investment company)

I fully understood what that meant when we reached the place. The road leading up to the place was entirely owned by the resort. Heck, they owned the entire mountain. After paying an entrance fee at the gate, we went up the road up to head to Tongging point. They were in the midst of building a Buddhist temple in the one stop resort; which already had several of its own attractions such as a waterfall lodge right by the waterfall, several guest houses and cafes, camping ground by a waterfall a few hours hike away among others. By Tongging Point, there was an amphitheater that overlooks Lake Toba.

A magnificent view of Lake Toba, North Sumatra; on a clear day, you can see Samosir Island in the distance

It was a wonderful view; but also staggering to know that NONE of this belongs to Indonesia or benefits the local Karo people in the area. Since the entire road up to the scenery viewing point is privately owned, locals will not be able to sell any products or handicrafts to the tourists.

“It’s funny how we bring so many visitors here, but we don’t get anything in return. We really should stop bringing people here, yet at the same time, it’s the best place to see the view,” Our Karo guide said.

Over hot chocolate, we sat down at one of the relaxing cafe and enjoyed the cool air as we mulled over the entire issue. As our guide started to tell us the pricing for the resort, we were soon exclaiming incredulously, “WHAT?! 5 million Rupiah for one night?! Daylight robbery!”

If tourists were to flock to the surrounding areas, I wonder how it would impact the people. Without environmental awareness, farmers tend to switch to the crop that yields the best income. Despite the fertility of the land, I’m often puzzled at just about how much we still import much of our food from overseas. Organic farming methods is still slow to catch on and farmers still prefer to stick to traditional methods.

In the end, I believe a viable solution for the future is through education and awareness. There is only so much the government can do (not to mention bungle up as they happily sign away lands like the one at Tongging Point with no share of benefits for the locals) , in the end, it all comes down to the initiatives of the community. Through citizenship discussion for example, IL was able to start a mangrove tree planting activity to prevent soil erosion. (I really love this article on the problem of disappearing mangrove trees in Indonesia, do give it a read) I also hope that with better education, farmers can utilize better technology and farming methods while improving their own economy.

Isn't this just adorable? (Made of corn husks)

Looking at Youth Circle in Myanmar, I have always been impressed by how, despite how limited their resources were, they have managed to put the environment in the forefront. (They have resumed their environmental awareness seminars which is paramount with all the foreign investments pouring into Myanmar now, do support them here!)From the perspective of a person from a country that is economically more stable than Myanmar, when their youth talk about the love for their rivers, organic farming training or handmade clothing to reduce carbon footprints; all I could think of is: if they could do it, why can’t we?

My hope truly is that we may have an opportunity to showcase our natural beauty and diverse culture, while still being socially and environmentally responsible.

Write I did. I became engrossed with reading fiction and fantasy novels and writing stories of magical lands and the adventures of five children, whose ages seemed to keep progressing with me as the years went by. When the troubled, emo teenage years came, class hours were spent writing world war 2 fiction and study hours filled with my fascination with the psychology of the totalitarian state of WW2 Germany.

Sing I did. In the bathroom. (I’m still hoping to memorize a Hindi song to sing at the top of some mountain)

Looking back, I am left with one question. What happened to my dreams? What are my dreams really? I have long since stopped writing fiction; I’ve just moved on from it.

I enjoy asking people about their dreams and goals. When I see the future they envision and how they could improve society, I feel so glad for them that when I find out some little obstacle stands in their way, I am immediately motivated to take some action or another to aid in removing that barrier. It is thus, with awkward embarrassment that, when the question is suddenly reversed to me, I find myself speechless at what to answer. The first time it happened, it was a shocking moment for me. All this while I have been asking countless people for their dreams and I somehow haven’t thought to ask myself.

Perhaps, I thought guiltily, the reason I am so eager to help others reach their dreams is because I have none of my own. I thought very hard about it. If I had all the money in the world and could do whatever I pleased, what would I do? I would probably choose to live in different countries several months at a time, befriending the locals, learning the language, getting accustomed with the culture and helping with whatever I can. The thought dismayed me more, my superfluous dream didn’t seem to align with envisioning a “proper” future.

Society has always taught us to dream big and every parents wish for their children to be the brightest star of the group. Similarly, I too aimed to be extraordinary. I wanted to do BIG things (whatever they may be) and make a BIG difference, partly also because I like the excitement and I get bored easily. While I don’t deny the empowering benefits of having such mentality and the importance of having goals, lately I’ve begun to appreciate the simplicity of being ordinary; and that behind every extraordinary person in the world, there needs to be the backstage crew who does the hidden work. I’ve begun to stop caring about whether or not I find this “dream” of mine. Whether or not I get on the right career track to get there. Maybe I don’t have a solid ambition like some people, but I do know I enjoy serving. But I’ve learned with everything, there needs to be responsibility and sensibility. (thus still working out ideas to become a better family-contributor and self sufficient server)

I’ve also realized something about dreams. When my friend first shared of his dream to be an architect, I thought what an admirable solid ambition. He wanted to contribute to his country, and help shape the landscape while still preserving traditional elements. Since there were not much opportunities to study that in Myanmar, my thoughts hastily went to: You have to get a scholarship abroad! Then get some work experience. Then return to your country, build your country’s landscape. Guide other aspiring architects etc. etc.

I sent him all kinds of scholarship applications and even wrote to architecture schools to see if they have a scholarship available. And then one day, he told me he was building a mud house for a village.

“I feel so happy,” He said, “It is great work for me and the community can dream to live in a safe house. They also offered me to design another school building.”

Then it hit me that he was already slowly realizing his dreams. Of course he is capable of more, but here’s someone who wants to help his people, pursue his love for architecture, and build his country. I can’t deny that he’s currently living his dream, no?

“It’s all about a change of perspectives to feel contentment,” He said, “One day, I was cheated to no end by someone. My money was gone and I only had 10,000 Rupiah ($1 USD)  in my pocket. And that was the last of my money, mind you. I used it to eat and buy cigarettes and had 3000 Rupiah left.”

I laughed at his composure in handling the situation.

“Then came a beggar. And I gave him that leftover 3000 Rupiah. Because in my opinion, there’s a way out of everything.”

Surprised at the turn of the story, I bid him to continue, “So as a result, I was completely penniless the next two days. But on the third day, my parents pitied me and gave me 20,000 Rupiah.”

“And you turned it to 20 million Rupiah?” I joked, knowing that he now had his own small business.

“Well, the moral really, is that whether you’re helping out others or volunteering, just do whatever you can now. And be grateful that you can do what you are doing and get motivation out of it. Nothing is ever instant. Just think about it, if on that day, I didn’t only have 3000 Rupiah leftover, maybe I wouldn’t have given it to the beggar. I wouldn’t have thought about what it felt like to need something. I might have even gone to the mall and spent my money foolishly, no?”

The story always puts a smile on my face. My friend couldn’t be more correct about changing one’s perspective, like seeing a glass half empty or half full. It reminds me of a story I once heard in a sermon:

A well-off father brought his son to an impoverished rural village to experience staying there for a few days. He wanted his son to realize how difficult being poor was and to learn from the experience so his son would grow up determined to be a rich multimillionaire.

After the stay, the father asked his son on the way home, “Son, what did you think of the experience?”

“It was interesting and fun,” the son replied, much to his father’s surprise. This was not the reaction he had wanted his son to experience.

“What did you learn from it?” The father prodded.

The son thought for a while and finally replied, “I learned that while we have one dog at home, the villagers have four to go hunting with. While we have a small pool back home, they have a whole river to swim in. While we live in a small plot of land, they live in a large free open space surrounded by nature. While we have lights to brighten our garden at night, they have a sky full of stars to brighten theirs. While we have tall gates outside our home to protect us, the villagers work together to protect one another. While we have maids at home to serve us, the villagers live to serve and help one another.”

To add to the father’s dismay, the son finally concluded, “Thanks for bringing me here dad! Thanks for showing me how poor we are compared to these people.”

Now, each time I feel dejected, I just need to remind myself of these stories to feel contentment.

Fondness and nostalgia sometimes keep me up at night, as I wonder, how all the friends in my life are doing, and how they are right now. I wonder if they’ve changed their unhealthy habits, for I truly wish for them to be around for a long time to come.

I couldn't stand LA traffic in the past. Now? After living in Jakarta? WOW HAVE THE ROADS ALWAYS BEEN SO BIG AND SPACIOUS? SO MUCH SPACE, WHY SO FEW CARS?!

The other night, I couldn’t help but wonder how Joseph is doing. My student from Project Literacy. A jovial and rather round African American grandfather with a loud, hearty laughter and a head of graying short curls. Lugging around his brown battered briefcase as we meet for lessons at Barnes & Nobles on Westside Pavillion at Pico, his eyes would light up and a huge beam will be on his eyes as he saw me. Then we’ll order a coffee as I teach him English grammar and work on his writing – A story involving spies, President Obama and lots of action – the plot which I was made to swear to secrecy in writing because he hopes to convince Oprah to publicize his story when it’s done.

On some days, we’ll take it slow. We go for some donuts and have a good talk as he drives me in his white van with the “Belize” chain hanging on the rear-view mirror. “My parents are from Belize”, he would proudly tell me. Then he would share stories of his 3 year old granddaughter and how he loves her to bits.

I remember our last lunch together. Sitting at the Indian buffet, and both of us going for third and fourth helpings of our favorite gulab jamun. He was still trying desperately to get a job then, having been jobless for a year and about to file for bankruptcy. We would talk about politics a lot, and Obama, Republicans and Democrats and Mexican immigrants. I don’t always agree, but we always have a good discussion anyhows.

It wasn’t always easy. Some days I would feel incredibly jaded. I felt that I couldn’t really be of help; that despite the countless resume we’ve written up for him, the job wasn’t forthcoming. Somedays his troubles became mine, and with other school and life burdens, it started to get to my emotions.

Generic photo of LA scenery because Ay! I just realized we never took a picture together! Why oh why?

He was sad that I was leaving. I told him not to give up. It was so nostalgic. It seemed just like yesterday when I was sharing with him that I was going to the Thai-Burmese border to teach. He told me to be careful.

A few days before I left, I gave him a call. He told me he got a job doing valet parking. Some days the tips were good, some days bad. I was happy for him but a little sad. He’s always trying so hard. His expertise was carpentry and construction and he has kept on taking classes and courses and certificates after certificates to improve himself so he can get a job. He would sit through the rush hour traffic driving from East Central LA to West LA to have English lessons with me since I couldn’t drive. Each time he came, he would show me – Look I got a new certificate in OSHA. Or plumbing. Or should I take this class for electricians?

I hope he’s well now. Is he still taking sleeping pills so he can sleep every night? I keep telling him to cut down on his sugars and coffee. I worry for him, because popping pills everyday can’t be safe. But I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been able to get in touch with him. I’ve taught him to use e-mail and created an account for him, but he hadn’t taken very well to it. And he constantly changes his number.

I wonder if I’ll see him again. I hope someday I can still look him up and say: “Hey, we never went to eat at any real good Southern food place. You said we would.”

The first few verses of the Beatles song “In My Life” pretty much sums up the feeling of the meanderings, meetings and partings of life:

There are places I remember
In my life, though some have changed,
some forever not for better,
some have gone and some remain,

All these places had their moments,
with lovers and friends I still can recall,
some are dead and some are living,
in my life I’ve loved them all.

I heard these words of advice while I was visiting Drum Publications in Kanchanaburi, Thailand, where some of my friends are working at. Drum Publications publishes Karen and Burmese language books and dictionaries and is “an independent Karen community based organization dedicated to promoting education and preserving the cultures of the peoples of Burma”. (Taken from their website)

My Karen dictionary from Drum. i really need to start learning the language once I find the time...

That’s when I met Tim and was inspired by the story of Drum Publication’s growth.

“We didn’t know anything about publishing dictionaries, but we felt it was the right way to go, so we just did it.” Tim explained as he excitedly showed me recent classification systems he had painstakingly devised for the new edition they were in the process of compiling.

Tim said the early years were tumultuous and he was literally writing to and begging all kinds of NGO for grants. Drum has became independent over the years through the sale of its publications, is able to pay its employees local minimum wage and can further focus on providing educational materials to schools within Burma free of charge. Drum Publications is a pioneer in the sense that they can afford to be independent, for most community based organizations are usually community backed.

That wasn’t the first time I’ve heard that advice. Martin of Yayasan Prima Unggul (YPU) too had said the same thing to me. He had no idea how to progress when he first had the idea for YPU, but he knew he needed to start something. “When you have an idea, just take action. If you wait till you have the perfect idea, you’ll never get started.”

I think there’s a reason why Nike’s slogan is so popular. It really does apply to human lives so well and over the past few years, I have been fortunate enough to meet inspiring people who have reiterated the idea to me. My favorite story is the one of the famous landmark – Candi Borobudur in Indonesia. Built in the 9th century in what was estimated to be a construction time of 75 years, the monument has served as an inspiration and awe for both visitors and pilgrims alike.

Sad confession: I haven't been here. This photo is by my Cambodian friend no less. (WHAT KIND OF INDONESIAN AM I?!) But I am planning a trip there this year

The message to take away is that you don’t know how many people you will help and inspire in the future. Don’t underestimate what you are doing, writing or any activities you’re involved in because you don’t know that you might be building the next Borobudur. Even the rulers at that time may not realize how many people the structure would later go on to inspire.

In the words of Coach Herman who guest-taught to the students at YPU, “Everyone has their own talents. Instead of trying to be someone else, focus on your strengths. Take action even if you don’t have confidence and improve from there. Don’t say there are no opportunities out there for you, you have to create your own opportunities.”

I’m so glad I have the advice of giants to guide me in the path ahead.

GBKP surrounded by beautiful natural scenery

A week ago, I went along with Institut Leimena  (IL) to Berastagi to conduct a citizenship education program to members of the GBKP (Batak Karo Protestant Church). These civic education programs have been held in churches in various regions of Indonesia as a start but IL hopes to expand these programs to the public regardless of religion.

As we met with the organizers in Kabanjahe, they explained that many Karo are apathetic about politics and think that good people should not involve themselves in such “dirty” affairs. But as Rev. Erick Barus wisely points out,”If good people stay away from politics, then truly the ‘dirty’ people will come to fill its seats.”

Initially, many of the participants were skeptical about the benefits of citizenship discussion and how regular citizens can have the power to make a difference. The common myth was that one would have to have a high position in government in order to create change.

Deep in discussion

Through the two day workshop, participants learned about the history of Indonesia and how the power of an idea formed the country as it is today from a Dutch Colony.  They also learned about the  1945 Constitution and its amendments, as well as how to read a draft law. During the workshop, participants broke down specific points in the Halal food law draft.  They showcased their strong analytic skills and voiced their agreement or disagreement by comparing the draft laws against the 1945 Constitution to see if  it was constitutional.

They also learned to put knowledge into action through citizenship discussion. Using discussion materials that can be downloaded off IL’s website, small groups can come together to discuss issues in their community and brainstorm action they can take to resolve them. (In my previous article, I briefly explain how various communities have managed to solve local problems through citizenship discussion.)

Karo lands are very fertile and suitable for growing crops such as corn as well as flowers

While we were there, some of the problems that were brought to attention was, for example, dying orange trees. We stared in shock at a yard full of blackened dying trees that once produced majestic bright oranges. Oranges are one of the livelihoods of Karo people. If you have ever tasted oranges from Medan, they are all actually grown in places such as Berastagi by the Karo people. The oranges has a light, pleasant sweet smell and are extremly juicy and sweet, but not overpoweringly so. These oranges however, are slowly disappearing as people switch to growing coffee instead. The major problem lies in fruit flies. Once a fruit fly settles on an orange tree, it’s sticky saliva quickly permeates the tree, turning the fruits and slowing killing the tree while spreading to surrounding trees. In a few months, all the trees in the field would die.

A farmer who had expected 40 tonnes of oranges and paid workers to pick the fruits realized to his dismay that his oranges were contaminated and that only 16 tonnes were good. As rotten fruits spread quickly, only 10 tonnes were good by the time they reached the buyers in Jakarta. In frustration, the farmer cut off all his orange trees.

Currently, the farmers build tall nets to protect the trees, but the situation is not improving. It is also not uncommon for fruit farmers to toss rotten trees in their neighbor’s yard, causing the problem to keep spreading amongst neighbors.

A group of young people happily pose for any camera while describing "Aron" to me

Some Karo lament the loss of their traditional culture of working together and helping one another, called “Aron” in Karo language. In the past, neighbors would help one another to work in the field for no pay except food and water. This spirit of working together is now lost as individuals look after only their own needs. Roads in certain villages for example, contain large potholes that are badly in need of fixing.

“They may have 3 cars and another home in Medan, but nobody cares to come together to fix the roads. They think, that’s the government’s problem, they’ll just wait for the government to fix it.”

Let’s hope that through citizenship education and discussion, the community can inspire those around them to take actions as citizens and perhaps build back the spirit of “Aron”.

Red velvet cookies, with a handwritten note full of love

At first, we just went through the curriculum. Then we stopped for a break and she offered some of her homemade Red Velvet Melting Moments cookies to me. They were a wonderful red topped with powdered sugar, soft and crumbly and just the perfect sweetness. (They taste somewhat like Russian teacakes) I found out that she had started baking as a hobby, and started to take on orders from home with the help of her sister. As orders continue to multiply in numbers over the years, Malti has decided to leave the teaching job in May and invest her time in her venture and her passion.

Being a die-hard dessert and pastry lover, I devoured her story (and the cookies) like a hungry wolf. Her baked goods are sent to the customers with a handwritten note with words of encouragement. She said that some of her customers had written back to tell them they were so touched and encouraged by her notes they had cried. Malti said she baked because she enjoyed doing it and seeing the joy it brings people each time they eat her creation. She has also participated in baking for charitable causes and is interested in social work. However, she believes that charity extends beyond helping the poor and needy. Her customers, for example, may not be impoverished, but they too have many first world problems and loneliness that she believes a sweet delight accompanied by some sweet words could help alleviate.

An extra oven to fill the orders

When she told me all this, I simply couldn’t believe my ears. It was like I have found someone who have exactly read my heart and poured it out to me in her own words. (Oh, the lovely feeling of finding someone who understands you so well) Unlike me, however, Malti doesn’t actually like sweets, she just enjoys the process of baking. (My self-control, wherefore art thou?)

As if finding someone who bakes, has an interest in helping humans in general, whether their problems are third world or first world wasn’t enough, Malti went on to impress me with all the courageous and inspiring things she has done in the past. She had noticed families living under the highway and decided on one fine day to randomly drop by with 100 packets of food. Along with her driver, she went to the location and only saw one child. So she approached the child and offered him the packet of food. Before long, people came flocking and she got to speak to many of them and find out about how hard life was for them. She had done this a few times before a police officer stopped her because the crowd was obstructing traffic.

A lovely picture of Malti I got off her Facebook, which I sure hope she doesn't mind me posting...

She had also stood up to an education officer in charge of accrediting the school she had worked for. Like any procedures in Indonesia, giving money to officers was the standard if not unsaid official protocol for getting anything done. If money is not procured, you can expect to rot 10 years with no results in your paperwork filing. While she had not directly challenged his corruption, she pointedly asked him if he had heard about the earlier suicide case where a student has killed herself because she had failed the standardized test. “Do you think it’s right that students are killing themselves over test results? Education is so much more than just grades, it is about building character. Education is supposed to improve your lives, not kill you.”

The officer merely shrugged and said there was nothing he could do. She then told him off saying that instead of saying that, he should go up to his supervisors or whoever was in charge and make sure something was not about the education system in Indonesia, if not what was the use of an education board.

I truly applaud her and I’m so glad I met her. The world needs more inspiring and courageous people. And I believe there are a lot of good people in the world and that we all need to work together to be the change we want to see.

When Hui Bing first showed me the first version of her costume, I almost died laughing.

While the students learn English as part of their high school curriculum, their level is very basic and they barely have any chance to practice it conversationally. So the idea was to allow them a chance to practice speaking English and be comfortable with the language, without having to worry about grammar or proper sentence structure. Hui Bing and I wrote up a short skit to show the student.

The premise of the skit was quite simple – A robbery. An old lady (played by your truly) is on her way to the bank when a robber (played by Hui Bing) comes at her with a knife and demands her purse. To play the part, I donned a shower cap, wore a long jacket and a sarong, walked with a bent back and the support of a long umbrella. As a twist, the robber gets beaten up by the unusually stubborn old lady with her umbrella. The robber drops her knife and runs for her life while the old lady continues about as if nothing has happened. Later, the dejected robber laments her actions and gets consoled by a Tukang Ngamen (Singing Beggar; common in Indonesia) and decides to live a proper, honest life.

Practicing the skit took a while as we couldn’t stop laughing at each other’s ridiculous appearances. We also brought along a bag full of sarongs, hats and other props the students could use later.

Oww my poor back... says grandma

When we reached the orphanage housing, we could hear singing from the outside. If you’ve read the first ever post I wrote on YPU, you should know that the students love to sing. Once we entered into the actual main hall, I was just awed and speechless. The students’ voices resonated loudly in the small room like the chorus of angels, along with the melodious sound of their Angklung (a traditional Indonesian instrument). It was just one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard in my life; I honestly can’t praise them enough except to say, if you have a chance, come hear them sing live. (in the meantime, watch a short video of them here)

After presenting the skit to the students, we broke them into groups of four or five and asked them to write their own 3-4 minutes English language skit on any topic. While their English is very basic, by pushing them out of their comfort zone, many actually managed to write spectacular pieces. I thought the kids had a lot of fun, especially with the clothing and ukulele. (Many of them happily took on the role of the Pengamen – Singing beggar, though their instrument of choice is usually the guitar) The acting talents of some of the students could also be clearly seen. One student had cried so realistically I was almost worried it was real.

The students practicing their skit

As with the director, I believe that guest teachers or speakers not only inspire the students and motivate them (knowing that people outside are so keen about them), they also have a lot of valuable knowledge to share and also exposes the students to different kinds of individuals and communication situations. Matthew Rickard, the founder of Footsteps for Good in Singapore has also guest-taught for them in early in January. He taught the students vision boarding and the students’ vision boards are now proudly displayed at the orphanage housing. You can view a short video of the workshop here.

Martin once told me, “Orphans are often the receivers of goodwill and seen as helpless. Through YPU, orphans don’t only take, they can also even give back, by inspiring.”

And it’s true. Not only are guests and visitors an inspiration to the students, the students’ strong determination and love for education are also an inspiration for our guests. Well, I can safely say, IMHO, this place is in the top 10 list of must go places in Jakarta!

(I volunteer in multiple areas at YPU. They do wonderful and valuable work on a lean budget. If you’d like to make a difference, contribute, inspire or be involved in any way, get in touch via the website!)

Thanks Hui Bing for taking the photos/videos of the students!

Most food from established places are safe. Some street food aren't bad either. Either way, please continue to enjoy ultra delicious bakso

At first, her reason was that eating street food would be unsafe for me, especially since several street vendors still put formaldehyde in their food to make it last longer. Noodles are not out of the equation either as unsafe food coloring is often used. This is a common knowledge and is still happening. “Makes the food really chewy,” as one lady told me, “I know they put in formaldehyde, but well, I still eat them occasionally.” (My mom is quick to tell me the horror stories of the “bakso” – fishball seller family and their maid who all died eating the leftover food they sell)

But the reason that finally dominated was that it was dangerous for a girl to live out there on her own. “You will get raped and killed” was the brief summary.

While there are reasons to be cautious about safety in Indonesia, I think it really depends on the location. From what I have seen, I judged the place to be safe and was in fact looking forward to living there. So I tried to reason to my mom that many expats were taking the same course and some also stayed at the surrounding hostels with no problem.

“It might be alright for expats. But we’re Chinese Indonesians, and as a young Chinese Indonesian girl, you are not safe.” came the reply.

Funny how my family let me run off to the jungles but not let me stay here...

I finally got my friend from Singapore to interview for the course as well, thinking that perhaps, two girls living in a hostel would be better than one. Her mother, a Chinese Indonesian who married a Singaporean and has lived in Singapore for many years, objected immediately for the same reason.

My friend told me it didn’t matter that the hostel was in a guarded complex and right behind the school. The moment her parents heard the words “living in Jakarta”, they objected. Historically and even now, most Chinese Indonesians still live in separate communities from other Indonesians. They tend to go to different schools, different shopping malls, different places of worship etc. Since Chinese language is no longer banned, Chinese Indonesian parents are starting to send their children to learn Chinese in the many Chinese language centers that have opened up. Lunar New Year is also a national holiday in Indonesia.

I wonder if we are still living the effects of the horror of the May 1998 riots. Especially for people of my parents’ generation, who vividly remember the incident and feeling terrified for the safety of their children, I can understand their fear and worry.

“I’ve experienced so many terrible things and had once ran away from the country,” my friend’s mother explained, “It’s so ridiculous why my daughter would want to go and live there.”

An ever present reminder of the riots, these jarring green gates were not an element of my childhood years. Large gates like these can be seen on every street in Chinese communities, built after the riots.

I was ten when the riots occurred, safely hidden away in Singapore. But I never forgot the stories, since many of the horrors happened right in my home community. My parents would tell me how the doors of Chinese Indonesian homes were marked as an indication that rioters should loot and burn that home. How my childhood friend’s father had been dragged away from his car and beaten to death. How my parents’ long time friend had to hide for 48 hours in a dark cellar while rioters looted the house. And then there were the endless stories of brutal gang rapes that still make me shiver to think about.

My brother’s fiancee had been visiting Jakarta at that time and she said it was the most frightening experience of her life: “There was fire everywhere, we were in the car trying to find a way out and luckily the guard showed us an alternative route to escape.”

Even with all the progress, many Chinese Indonesians still fear a similar incident happening, especially in the face of an economic downturn. I don’t deny the opulence of some Chinese. I would actually bring friends to certain neighborhoods to let them see “houses that are so big your jaws would drop”. It really doesn’t help that many of them also engage in frivolous parties and lavish gatherings, when more could be done to help the communities around.

My students from the orphanage school. Many ethnic groups, one vision

If I was a first-hand witness of the riots like the others, perhaps I would not be so carefree in my decision of living on my own in the city. Ultimately, I can understand my parents’ fear, but at the same time, I do want to feel a sense of belonging in this country, not just constant wariness and fear. I badly want to be recognized as not just a Chinese Indonesian, but an Indonesian. It is a fact that we still do look distinctively different from the others. While I may be darker skinned than most of my Chinese Singaporean friends, I am still “too white” in Indonesia and people can easily identify me as Chinese.

I guess in the end, I still want to be recognized as just part of another ethnic minority group in Indonesia, not an outsider. It still irks me some days when I venture to a non Chinese area and people start to stare because it is odd to see one of my kinds in those parts. Or when I venture to tourists areas and locals speak Chinese to me, assuming I am a tourist. Of course, I can hardly blame them, but most days I do just wish they would see me as I am. I was born in this country, I still care for the welfare of this country and while I naturally care about the welfare of many countries as part of the bond of humanity, this one’s always just an extra bit more special.