The University and the Mystic Order

Yesterday , I was invited by one of my graduate students to give a Public Lecture at the university at which he teaches.    Universitas Panca Budi is a very interesting place. The first thing I noticed when I entered the grounds is that the university is only a part of the overall foundation.  In additional to the university students, you see high school students, junior high school students, and even elementary school students.  In addition there is one whole side of the rectangular campus that is not really any kind of school at all.  It is the headquarters for an international Sufi Brotherhood. 

 

Sufism, is the mystical form of Islam.  In it people try to create a direct connection with God, or as one poet put it, “to touch the Face of God.”  In Sufism, this mystical state is achieved by the rhythmic chanting of phrases derived from the Quran.

 

Because the followers of this order were both men and women who had families, there was a need to educate the children.  So starting with an elementary school and gradually adding levels, the foundation now has a university that even includes a few graduate programs.  Now students come from outside the Sufi order as well.

 

Another thing that struck me is that not all the female students wore the head covering.  Indeed, it is only required of students who are studying in the Department of Theology and Religion.   There is a clear sense that wearing or not wearing the head covering in now way reflects of the person’s religious commitment.

 

Finally, another striking thing about the visit, although it is has happened to me before,  was my near rock star status.  I came to the campus and was greeted by the highest levels of university officials, all the way up to the Senior Vice-President who were all waiting outside for me to arrive.  I was then escorted into the President’s office for a brief meeting with him before my lecture.  

 

Before my lecture started, I was given a thank-you gift and souvenir from the Senior Vice-President.  In addition to some books about the Sufi Order and the University, I was given an official UPB blazer, in canary yellow.   I made them very happy by deciding to wear it immediately and wear it throughout my presentation.  You can see the lovely jacket in the picture above.

 

 

The Traditional Market

There has been a lot of talk lately in Indonesian about the importance of traditional markets.  Apparently supermarkets have become more popular and there are campaigns to encourage people to return to the traditional market.  I decided to go to one today to do some of my vegetable shopping. As the news programs had suggested vegetables are much cheaper there than they are in the supermarket, by more than half.  Of course, if I seemed out of place at the Paris Burger (see below) then I was very much out of place in the traditional market.  Not only for being an American, but as a man, and a man dressed for office work at that, I did not belong there.  The market women were very happy to see me and all called out for me to come buy vegetables at their stand.  I made my purchases from as many different stands are possible to spread my money around.  It was easy to do, because there really wasn’t one stand that sold all the things I wanted:  cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes, and bananas.  I have to confess, though, to buy meat, I went to the supermarket.  The pictures are of traditional markets, but not the one I visited.  I forgot to bring my came

The Burger Joint

In my journal I described an often repeated scene – worthy of a novel.

 

I walk into a small open air café.  There are almost a dozen servers waiting in front.  They are all young women.  This is a typical hiring pattern.  One frequently sees job ads which state, “Wanted Salesgirl, server, etc.:  Must be an attractive woman.”  The servers jostle each other, tittering and giggling trying to figure out  who will have to come serve me.  As an university professor, I am used to dealing with this age group.  There are confused as to why I am there in their work place.  Not that it is a roadside stall, but in their imaginings, a foreigner belongs in the lobby of 5-star hotel, not in this neighborhood in a café constructed from timber frames and woven bamboo mats.

 

The contest of wills continues.  Two servers walk past my table, staring at me as if I had horns growing out of my head.  Is not my first time here, but since is only my second, I am still a distraction.  It is raining hard and there are far fewer customers than the number of servers could handle.

 

Finally, one of them blurts in Indonesian, “I can’t speak English.”  I respond in the same language, “There is no need for English”   The small flock of 20-somethings giggle, laugh, and exclaim.  Finally someone brings a menu to my table – “Welcome to Paris Burger.”

 

The Paris Burger is neither from Paris, nor what most  Americans would recognize as a burger.  The burgers a locally famous.  But, I have long given up the hope of finding a nice thick, juicy, ground-beef widow-maker common to greasy spoons and dives.  The Indonesian version of the burger are inspired by the thin dry patties of a McDonald’s cheeseburger or even a Big Mac.  And in this regard they have improved on the original.  They add to the thin pressed meat burger, a nice thick fried egg and cheese.  It more resembles a breakfast sandwich than a burger.  At least until they add chicken floss, lettuce, tomato, and drown it in chili sauce.  The reputation of the Paris Burger is well deserved but today I order the noodles and iced tea.

 

As I leave, I pay my bill which comes to about 90 cents.  I add a 20 cent tip, which completely shocks but pleases them.  Then I leave.

 

An Honored Guest

Yesterday, I met Syech Ali Akbar Marbun who in the head of an Islamic board school called PP Al-Kaustar Al-Akbar, or the Great Oasis.  It is the kind of school that is sometimes painted in Western media a training ground for bad guys.  Syech Marbun rejects all forms of violence and actively interacts with pastors, bishops and other leaders of other religions.

 

As part of my visit he gave me an ulus, which is a kind of a shawl.  Syech Marbun is from the Batak ethnic group.  The ulus is a traditional gift the Batak give to guests.  Isalm also requires guests to be received warmly.  In giving me the ulus, he was combining the requirements of his faith with the traditions of his culture.

 

The ulus is a form of prayer.  It is long, to give the receiver (me) long life.  It is edged with hundreds of tiny beads, so that I will have lots of money.  It can warm my body if I am cold, and shade me from the sun, if I am too hot.  The ends of the shawl have lots of fringe, again to bless me with lots of wealth. 

 

Family Fun Day

 As you may recall, I rent a guest house in the compound of the Foundation for Building Indonesian-American Friendship.  A big part of what they do here is teach English.  Last Sunday they had a “family day” picnic.  It was held at the tail end of the holiday season when people do a lot of these kinds of events.  We went to a resort area with a wide river for swimming and nice mountain air, it was cool (for the tropics)

One big activity was “swimming” in the river.  It was flowing far to fast to actually swim but it was  a very popular activity.  You will see lots of people in the picture of the river.  There were several other groups there as well.  In addition , there were all sorts of events and contests including “cracker on a string” eating contest, carrying a stone in a spoon, as well as such relay races as catch and carry eels – whoever carries the most eels (one at time)wins and for the children “catch koi in a muddy pond”.  

 

I had some UNF temporary tattoos that I brought for the children.  There were a hit -- sort of.  The children were too nervous at first, so my friend Andan had me put one on him to show them it would not hurt.  Then all the men wanted tattoos.  Eventually more children wanted them as they saw that most of the men had these tattoos.  

What is like to live in another country?

In case you were wondering what it feels like to live in another country, imagine playing a game you know.  Let’s use chess as an example.  You are playing the game with people but they seem to be using different rules.  Sometimes it even seems like they might be playing a different game, say checkers but with a chess set.  Sometimes the rules are so different that you think they must be playing Crazy 8s or some other card game, but with a chess set.  Yeah, sometimes you get that confused.  They all know the rules, but sometimes since you are playing, they use rules that only apply to you.  They would never use those rules with a member of their own society.

 

If it is not clear yet, the game being played is just living – meeting people, socializing, working, shopping, taking care of basic needs.  By now, you want concrete examples of what sound like a perfectly crazy way to live.  Its not the other way of playing the game or living life that sounds crazy, it being willing to come and play the game when you don’t know the rules.   Oh by the way,  they are not written down.  So here are some examples from my time in Indonesia

 

 

Rules that are different:

1. It is ok if you are tired to simply take a nap.  I have a full living room set in my office, to receive guests.  But part of the reason for the full sofa is so that I can take my mid-day rest comfortably. 
2. Use only your right hand to hand things to people, take food, and eat.  The left hand is reserved for other tasks.
3. Bathrooms do not have toilet paper.  You have to bring your own, or use the Indonesian method where the focus is on washing rather than wiping.  There is a good reason for right hand rule.
4. Doors with locks require a key on both sides of the door.  If you misplace your keys you cannot get out of the room or house in a hurry
5. Bargaining is a way of life.

 

Rules that seem to change:  

6. My office is in the library and right now the library is completely locked down.  I am locked in.  The metal gate is closed and chained.  This has never happened before.  Although the library closes during lunch time and on Friday, prayer time, normally there are staff members still working and the library is not locked up. 
7. There are places you NEVER wear shoes.  There are places where you always wear shoes.  The are places where sometimes you wear shoes and sometimes you don’t..  Normally you can figure it out because there are piles of shoes outside of the place.  But sometimes, there no shoes outside the place and you shouldn’t wear you shoes anyhow.  People have taken their shoes off and put them out of sight before going in.

 

Rules that only apply because its you: 

8. It is ok to shout out “hey mister or hey miss” to the foreigner.  It is not important to get the gender right.  Although they would NEVER greet another Indonesian this way, it is not only OK, sometimes it seems like the rules require it.
9.  It is also ok to randomly try to start up a conversation in English with a foreigner as he or she is walking past.  However, only do this once they have passed by.  If the local is already behind the foreigner, then the local won’t be embarrassed when their greeting is not returned
10. It is ok to charge the foreigner more for taxi fare, purchases, and other expenses.  The assumption is, if the foreigner does not understand the bargaining rule, than they deserve to pay more.

 

The first category of rules, those that are simply different, are really no big deal.  You just have to learn them and do your best.  The rules that seem to change, probably don’t change.  There are just variations that you don’t understand.  There must be a reason for my being locked in today.  Part of it was not making sure to say hello to the person who locks up when I came in today.  The rules that only apply to you, the foreigner, are a source of frustration.  And with these, you just have to accept that the game is played different when you are playing, and move on.

Fried Ice Scream

This is an interesting entry from a blog on Medan that I like to follow, it helps me know things that  are going on.  The author took her young boys to a Japanese cook table restaurant and order the banna flambé fried ice cream.  It turned  tinot more of and adventure than was bargained for.  Don’t worry, no one got hurt.

 

Watch Here

 

 

A Muslim Perspective on Conflict.

I was recently invited to meet with a religious political figure of local importance, “Romo” (Raden Muhammad Syafi’i).  He is a local leader in the Reformation Star Party, an Islamic party.  He is a representative in the provincial legislature and is in line to represent PBR in the national assembly.  He is also an Ustadz – which means he preaches in various setting.  Concerned about how the West view Muslims as extreme in their reactions, he told a story about how Muslims should respond.  It is a story of the Prophet Muhammad.  One day the Prophet went to his door, and there was a pile of poop on the doorstep.  So the prophet, got a shovel, and cleaned  it up.  He did not get angry, he not shout, he simply cleaned it up.  The next day, it was there again.  So, without emotion, he got the shovel and cleaned it up.  This happened so frequently that the Prophet started taking a shovel to the door with him.  One day he discovered who had been throwing poop at his door.  He said nothing and did nothing.  He kept coming to the door each day with a shovel in hand.  One day, there was no poop on his door step.  He was puzzled.  By then, he had came to expect poop on his doorstep.  Something must be wrong.  So, he immediately went out and inquired after the neighbor.  In fact, the neighbor had fallen ill. The Prophet asked for food including milk, to be prepared.  He brought this food to the neighbor and fed him and prayed for him to be healed.  The neighbor asked incredulously, if they Prophet knew that it was he that had been throwing poop on his door.  When the Prophet told him that he knew and that he had know for a long time, the neighbor exclaimed.  How amazing is your religion that you could respond this way to my hateful behavior.  Romo continued that people saying nasty things about Islam and Muslims is the new poop.  But we must follow the example of the Prophet and not respond emotionally. 

 

A North Sumatra Wedding

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I went to a wedding last Saturday.  The groom is the little brother of my good friend, Andan.  It took us about 2 hours to make the drive.  We got there about 9:20 am.  They had been waiting for us to start.  It was not a large event, not more than 50 people.  Uncles and aunts were present as were many brothers and sisters. 

 In a small house, in the living was set up the classic bride and groom throne.   After the religious ceremony, this is where they will sit for the adat or local customs part of the celebration.  Next too it was a three tiered presentation of food stuffs.  I  knocked one of the eggs off of this early in the ceremony but no seemed to b e upset by this fact  the groom later knocked it over, the only thing that I noticed was that the eggs smelled pretty bad and that later people were eating them and giving them to children.

We all sat on the ground in a circle around the edge of the living room   In the center of the room was a cushion. The groom was sitting behind the cushion.  The bride was in another room.  Women sat on one side of the room and men on the other, but at two places in the room people were sitting next to a member of the opposite sex.  The women were all wearing jilbad or some interpretation of the Muslim head covering expect for 1 or 2 teen girls. 

 The cleric (religious leader who performed the wedding) started by addressing the wali – a male member of the bride’s family who speaks on her behalf; in this case her older brother. His role was to “give her away” to be married (nikahkan).  It was important that the wali say the oath perfectly and he was made to repeated it twice so that he got it right.

 The groom then got up on the cushion to “accept” his bride. At this point, he paid the bride wealth or “wedding gold” (mas kawin), a symbolic amount of money, just Rp 50,000, which would be the same as if you spent $30 in the United States.  Because it was paid in cash, the cleric had the bride’s brother take it to her immediately. 

 They recited the first chapter of the Quran (al-Fatihah) as a prayer twice.  Next came the groom’s statement of acceptance.  It was critical that this part of the ceremony was also done perfectly.  He was so nervous.  He made lots of mistakes and had to repeat his part several times until he got it right.  They even stopped the ceremony and prayed that God  would help him get it right. 

 After the groom had “accepted” the bride, she came out  and sat next to the cleric and in front of the groom.  At this point, I think they were legally married, and it would have been improper (according to what I have teen told elsewhere) for them to see each other before this point. 

  Then the groom swore a vow to her that essentially laid out the grounds for divorce

1. leave her for 2 years
2. not give her basic necessities of life, including sharing the same bed, for three months.
3. abuse her physically or emotionally.’

If any of these end up being true, she can take the case to court and a fee of Rp 10,000 and get a divorce. 

 After a short sermon that explained the groom’s vow, they signed the marriage certificate.  The bride never gave a similar vow nor did her representative. 

 Then they greeted the guests.  On their knees,  they took the hands of the person and lifted to their forehead.  First it was the older people, especially the grandmothers and mothers.  Then they went around the room.  For older people it was as described above, for equals just a handshake, and for children it was reversed.  The bride put my hands to her  head, the groom did not. 

After the religious ceremony it was time to eat and during this there was the Muamat (or welcome song) sung in Arabic and was said to be part of Arabic customs.  My friend’s daughter laughed at my pained expression from he overloud speakers.

The women went to an adjacent house, carrying a fancy thing – looked like another Bali – but apparently this was just so that they could go talk by themselves, there was no special ceremony.  I saw the groom sitting with friends during the eating, but the bride was no where to be seen  -- most likely she was changing into her traditional cultural (adat) costume which was much more complicate than his.   When I looked in on the women to see if the bride was with them (she was not), I was invited in to sit and talk with the women. 

Then came the Tepung Tawar ceremony

The bride and groom were dressed in traditional royal attire.  They get to be king and queen for the day.  They had a piece of  batik cloth across their laps,  one by one members of her family came up and took a handful of rice, flower bud and petals and spread it over them –laps, heads, shoulders  and the guest shook hands with bride and groom.  The women often kissed the bride (on the checks in the style of cheek pressed to cheek style).  This was done to bless them as a couple.  First all the members of her family did this and then all of the members of his family (including me, as his older brother’s friend). 

After this came the advice giving.  Representatives of each family gave speeches abut how to be a good husband and  good wife from both sides of the family.  Traditionally this could go on for 3 or four hours, but my friend announced that we had to go back to Medan, 2 hours away for another celebration.  So it was only about an hour of advice giving and then we ate again.  And then we went home.

 

 

What is in this stuff!

Ok, I have done and seen some interesting things and I promise I will go those posted very soon.  But here is a short note about bug spray.  I bought a local insecticide called Baygon.  The can says its for flies, mosquitoes, and cockroaches.   Its effective against ants too.  Here is the thing.  The instructions say not to wipe up the residue because it will continue to control bugs.  So, last week I sprayed so cockroaches by my front and back door.  And this week, more roaches are getting in, walking over where I sprayed before and just dying – almost a week later.  I am a bit scared about what chemicals are in that spray can.