I’ve had a hard time completing my Indonesia blog. I love to write. I really love to write about things that are personal, funny and adventurous which truly sums up this experience. But I haven’t been able to write. A complete creative drought. I’ve blamed it on no wi-fi, jet lag, school starting, earthquake experience, child moving to college. All of these things are valid in their own right. But not the truth. The truth is just one day into my Palembang host city adventure I had an experience that stopped me in my tracks, broke my heart and changed my perspective of the world and my place in it forever. Palembang Street Children My TGC partner, host teacher and I woke early on Sunday to take part in a city clean up event sponsored by the local government. It was the kind of hot that makes you sweat through your clothes and forget that you showered. For reasons yet to be explained, I chose to wear white pants for this activity. Thankfully it was early in the morning and the full heat of the day was yet to embrace us. Our host teacher is now a government employee and she wanted to show us the community pride and involvement that happens each week at different locations around Palembang. There were local officials, doctors, government employees, military personnel and other community members working together to clean a small piece of land located near a local watershed and neighborhood. In addition to the clean up the government also had booths set up to help the community with filing government paperwork, health screenings, family planning --which included the distribution of condoms and the motto “two is enough”-- and much to my surprise and delight a bookmobile. As foreigners- “bule” we were welcomed with open arms, delicious food, and many, many selfies. We were also interviewed for a local news station and later found out that we made the front page of the Monday Koran Indonesia newspaper. It was easy to feel like a celebrity and after the 100th selfie I started to develop some empathy for Justin Bieber. The whole event was a beautiful example of the pride and sense of community that seem to be an intragal part of Indonesian culture. Which was in shocking contrast to the next community we encountered. After some rest at the hotel we started our journey to what was described as a school for “street children”. I’m not sure what I was expecting but it certainly was not what I saw. I was busy photographing the landscape and interesting sites including a colorful cemetery. Except for the sounds of the bumps in the skinny dirt road, the car was quiet when the mountains came in to view. The landscape seemed in stark contrast to the flat area that we had just passed. On first site and from a distance the mountains had a haunting beauty. I took a closer look through the zoom in my camera and realized that these were in fact mountains but not the natural kind. These were mountains of refuse and People lived here. Children lived here. As we pulled into the “community” children started following our car. We stopped at the school and I jumped out of the car to greet the children. I was immediately taken aback by the odor and the steady hum of flies that filled the stagnant, hot air. I knew that this was not going to be the kind of school visit that we had already experienced and my head told me to get back in the car and just drive away. But my heart saw those kids. Surprisingly happy, joyful kids. The teachers that we were scheduled to meet were running a little late so I followed some of the kids who seemed interested in showing us around. The families that “live” in this area don’t actually have addresses and that is why the kids are not allowed to attend a government sponsored school. Parents make a marginal living by picking through the garbage for recyclable materials and then reselling those materials. Because parent income is so low, children are often allowed to also “earn money”. Education is the ONLY thing that can move these kids out of poverty but these children are excluded from basic government education programmes. Many of them have no legal status or identity, as they are often mobile and belong to ethnic or refugee communities. The juxtaposition of the day’s earlier government event and this experience was not lost on me. We continued to walk around and see more and more children living in deplorable conditions. I noticed that despite the hot temperatures, stagnant stench filled air and swarms of flies the kids were clean and well dressed. It occured to me that parents see the opportunity for their children to attend school on Sundays as an important event and take a sense of pride in giving them the best possible conditions for learning. The teachers arrived via GoJek driver which is service similar to Uber except you ride on the back of a motorcycle instead of inside of a car. I was struck by how young they both are. They work full time during the week as teachers at one of the local schools and then volunteer their time to come here on Sundays to teach these street children. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of “what exactly are you doing with your life?” compared to these selfless heroes. The children followed them Pied Piper style into the one room school building. The building had concrete floors and an approximate 12’x12’ room where all students regardless of age met together to learn. It was mind numbing hot. I was struggling to concentrate when a small child lifted the only fan in the room to focus all the air on my face. A beautiful, selfless (and somewhat dangerous) gesture of kindness to their guest. Despite the hot temperatures and cramped area, this was sacred space and I felt it. Everyone removed their shoes before entering and they all made room for each other on the very small floor. The teachers led the students in some songs and then introduced us. I was really awestruck by the enormity of what I was seeing. These kids deserve a chance and a space to learn but this is their reality. They sang their ABC’s and practiced questions and answers. They were eager to practice the english language and their smiles were contagious. I selfishly wanted to bring them all back home with me and in a way I have. We made one last trip around the “neighborhood”. A mother handed her infant to me, another unwrapped here swaddled baby to hold him up so I could see him. And I did. I saw all of them. I still see all of them. I was first to make my way back to the car excusing myself for being too hot but the truth was I was so overwhelmed with emotion I needed a place to cry. We drove away in silence but my mind was full of the “what’s next’? How can I help? How can I share this experience with my students who have no idea this even exists in our world? And should I? Since returning to the states I have reached out to these two teachers who give so much of their time and heart to the education of these children. I am waiting to learn from them the most pressing need and I will obviously be contacting my circle of trust to help. What I know is that education is so important and global education is imperative to helping out students recognize other perspectives and take action. As an educator, I want to lead the way.
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AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
September 2018
Categories"This blog is not an official U.S. Department of State blog. The views and information presented are the grantee's own and do not represent the Teachers for Global Classrooms Program, IREX, or the U.S. Department of State."
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