Somehow I have been in Indonesia a
month. Time has slipped by so quickly, and now I only have 19 days until I
leave Lombok, and 23 days until I leave the country. I cannot believe it. It
seems like yesterday I was shaking my professors’ hands as they left me and
entrusted me with their precious research when I did not have a clue what I was
doing. Luckily, I actually have learned quite a bit from my Master’s program,
and I would argue I am an adaptive individual despite my desire for order so I
feel actually really confident with the work that I have done here.
I have spent the last month at
first learning about the island, the problems that the government is facing,
the culture that makes it so vibrant, and about the forest that I have been so
much time reading about online and in articles for the past several months.
After my professors shook my hand and bid me farewell I sprinted out of the
gates… meaning I hung around Mataram for a few days, went to the University of
Mataram, realized that I would have difficult buying things because I could not
speak the language, and getting acclimated to my little yellow house I am
staying in, which is actually a preschool. The yellow house has lots of new
friends I have made that keep me company, which startled me at first, but now I
am used to like a lizard the likes to go in my trash and eat things and the
ants that like to hang out on my computer as I type.
This is my first time traveling on
my own so this was sprinting out of the gates for me. I usually have a group
that I am with or at least a friend to help me navigate these things. I have
been put on the edge of my comfort zone this trip and have been challenged many
times, which is good, but also ridiculously scary. Luckily the people are not
mean they just find me amusing and laugh at me, which I can deal with. I am a
little clunky, clumsy, and eating with my right hand without spilling rice all
over me is still a little difficult. I have also gotten over my fear of
motorcycles, which is nice given that we have to ride one everywhere.
After a couple of days in Mataram
it was time to start my research. I really like being in the villages much more
than the city. There is always something to see and do, and I can walk around
without fear of being hit by a motorcycle, car, or a horse drawn cart (they are
faster then you would think). The people
are also always so nice. At first they are a little afraid of me. The children
especially like to run and hide, but then they see I am silly and helpless, and
then they start to warm up to me. They help teach me words, offer me food, and
laugh when I drink gallons of water after only a little bit of spicy food.
Indonesians are also really loving and funny people. They like to make jokes,
laugh, smile and talk. Additionally everyone is always outside and in the
presence of one another. It is not as much like that in the city, but in the
villages everyone is like family.
I have conducted my research in two
villages thus far in Malaka and Sigar Penjalin, and I will finish my research
in two other villages throughout July. I have conducted 30 household surveys
and 4 focus group discussions with two students from the University of Mataram
in each village. Although the villages are around the same area they are
exceptionally different.
Malaka is a village that is by the
ocean and the main road that tourists take to get to their destinations in
Lombok. This means that the village and the forest is easily accessible. This
also means that the natural resources that the village can offer like rock,
sand, and fuelwood are bought and sold in this village. Many people gain
incomes from harvesting and processing these things. This makes the village difficult to deal with
when it comes to weaning them off forest resources since they depend on it for
their livelihoods, and when they only make $2.00 a day in most cases it is hard
to just say no. So we will have to think of things and get creative to think of
ways they can gain income without cutting down the trees.
Sigar Penjalin is different in that
it has a lot of farms and the forest is really hard to get to. The people that
use fuelwood are usually using agricultural residue like coconut leaves, and
not the stereotypical fuelwood that one would think of, which is stacks of
branches and trees that people burn to cook and produce things. The forest
around this area is really hard to get to for most people. You have to live
there to want to use it. I know because I was brave enough to hop on a
motorcycle and ride up steep hills and rocky slopes to get there. I eventually
got off when the motorcycle was fully revved and we were literally stuck in one
place on a hill. I walked the rest of the way, and I am so impressed by the
women who walk up and down that everyday with 15 coconuts on their heads or
fuelwood. I was so tired when we made it to the top of the hill. Their use of
the forest was very different from Malaka. There was no fuelwood market they
were just using fuelwood for personal consumption and some small industries.
The government did have to intervene in this area after over a 150 ha of forest
was converted to gardens for the people. They had to do forest rehabilitation
and an enforcement program to make sure the problem did not get any worse.
This is also the village where I
learned the word hati-hati, which means be careful, and they said it to me
every time I entered the bathroom. Here is the reason why. The first time I
used the bathroom at our homestay I had to take my socks off because bathrooms
in Indonesia are always wet because it is an eastern style toilet and because
the shower is just a bucket and a smaller bucket so you just throw water
everywhere to clean yourself. Anyway, I was wearing shoes instead of flip flops
because I had to walk up the mountain so I had socks on. After using the toilet
I wanted to put my socks back on so I leaned against a wall so I would not
fall. However, I did not realize the wall was not very stable so all the bricks
and cement fell down, which also destroyed their piping system to bring in
water. One of the bricks had fallen on my foot/ankle. Agus, one of the students
that helps translate for me and do my research called to me to see if I was ok.
I was foolishly trying to put the wall back together again, with not
surprisingly little success. So we had to go down and tell the owner of the
home what I had done, and he scurried off to look at the damage while 6 women
surrounded me to help me with my wounds. It was an excellent first night.
Luckily we only stayed there for two nights, but it was an adventure.
There is of course more I could say and write,
but for now this will do. This country and this island has been good to me, and
there is still a lot to look forward to. I get to learn what it is like to be
in a Muslim country during Ramadan and see how people celebrate the holy month,
I get to go to two more villages and learn about people’s lives, I get to
witness the 3rd democratic election that Indonesia will have had
with a candidate that is being equivocated to Barak Obama and another that is
like the previous dictator that ruled Indonesia for over 30 years, and I get to
read, which is something I never get to do at home. These are my tales for now,
and more will come when I have ac
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