Neighbor Kids

Daging Kelinci (Rabbit Meat)

On Sunday I traveled about an 45 minutes away to a restaurant known for serving rabbit meat. Little did I know that you get to pick the live rabbit first, and then they kill it and cook it before your eyes. Our group of eight picked three cute, furry rabbits and had them made into fried rabbit, rabbit soup, and grilled rabbit. The meat was pretty tasty, better than chicken I'd say. It's quite a dilemma when you love both animals and meat. I've heard they do the same pick-slaughter-cook-eat process at some dog meat restaurants here. I'll let you know when/if I brave that one.

Sunda Wedding

This weekend I went with my friend to a wedding reception. The newlywed couple are from the Sunda ethnic group, and so it was a great cultural experience. During my time at the wedding I was able to meet and talk with the student body president of ITB, which is the top engineering and science university in Indonesia. He's the one in the green shirt on the far left. Another interesting cultural observation: Indonesians don't smile for wedding pictures. Kinda makes me stand out in the first picture as the odd one who actually looks happy to be there!

Neighborhood Boys

Would you like pesticide with that?

During my trip to the vegetable farm, I noticed an interesting sequence of events. The farmer’s wife was in the process of two tasks at the same time: cooking lunch and treating some young plants with fungicide (picture above). To apply the pesticide (I gathered that it was named Antracol), she mixed it in a bucket with her hands, poured a little into a small bag with several holes poked in it, and then as the liquid pesticide flowed out of the bag she sloshed it around with her hands so that all the plants got covered. After emptying one bag of pesticide, she quickly dipped her hands in some water, and resumed cutting up some vegetables for lunch. Not long afterwards she resumed her fungicide application, and this time did not wash her hands before cooking again. When lunch was ready a few minutes later, I was kindly offered some food, and in order to not offend (and important value here) I ate a little and expressed my gratitude and enjoyment.

It’s really no wonder that cancer kills many here, especially among the farming community. I’ve heard that some village people don’t wash their vegetables because they believe important vitamins are removed in the washing process. Instances like these convince me that opportunities abound to improve horticulture and quality of life here with some basic training and education. It’s challenging, however, to quickly change the traditional methods that have been used for years among a people who dislike and distrust change.

Vegetable Farming

Due to a three day break after finishing my first unit of language school, I had a free day and was able to travel by motorcycle up into the mountains and visit the small vegetable plot that is financed by my new friend Sigit. Sigit, (top picture) who is still a college student, works as an English teacher and also is trying to make a little money on the side providing capital for a local farmer (bottom picture). Sigit provides money for seed, black plastic mulch, and a few other things that the farmer needs, and in return gets 50% of the profits. This small plot is used for growing tomatoes and chilis at this time of year, being the start of rainy season. In the background of the photos you can see other vegetable production areas. I enjoyed the fresh, cool air and a little manual labor, though I felt bad when I broke the hoe! I'm excited to visit this plot of land frequently enough to watch the progress of the crop and learn more about production practices here. More on this later.

Weekend Adventures

With my adventuresome spirit tugging at my sleeves, this weekend I decided to venture out into the city by myself and do some shopping in a place I hadn’t been yet. All was going well - for example I picked up a new pair of jeans for about $2.15 - until I hopped on the wrong Angkot (picture above). Angkots are the main form of public transportation. There is an intricate network of Angkots that travel a certain and continuous loop from one part of town to another. While confident that I had chosen the right angkot, I didn’t realize that it was going in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. Upon finally making this discovery, I figured that it wouldn’t be long before the angkot got to the end of its loop and turned around. Even when I saw angkots going in the opposite direction, I was confident that if I stayed on long enough it would eventually get to me to my planned destination. Thirty minutes later we reached the end of the loop. By that time all of the other passenger had gotten off and the Angkot driver turned around with a curious smile and asked, “Ke mana?” (To where?). In broken Indonesian I explained to him my error, he laughed, and after another 30 minutes on the same Angkot, I finally arrived at home.

How similar in the journey of life do many get on what they think is the right path, but in fact they’re going the wrong way. And even though they know it’s the wrong way, out of pride they refuse to get off (or ask for directions), thinking that eventually things will turn around if they just wait long enough. For many, sadly, they never do make it home.