found on a banner covering construction fence while traveling solo in Rome, Italy, 2016
Indonesia, Random Decisions, and the Art of Aloneness
#Indonesia #AloneAndConnected #BahasaIndonesia #SendiriSendirian #Sulawesi #gratitude #gratitudediaries #gratitudegrows #ThankinOfYou #NovemberGratitude #WhatYouAppreciateAppreciates
When I think of places for which I am grateful, I think of Indonesia—a country where I’ve spent at least a couple of years cumulatively, and still barely scratched the surface of its diverse array of people and islands. Like all my best life decisions, the choice to go there was made pretty much at random.
I knew I wanted to go somewhere totally beyond my imagination. I thought that would be India, and I could study (and hoard) a cache of beautiful fabrics (in college I was minoring in Fiber Arts—yes that's a thing). But the alphabetically-ordered university study abroad catalog had something called “Indonesia” instead. I saw that there was beautiful fabric made there—the birthplace of batik, and ancient weaving techniques. I earned a fellowship to go. I studied its charming, playful language, Bahasa Indonesia, which lets you roll your r’s for days if you want, and simply repeat words to make them plural.
Arriving in the East Java town of Malang, I remember one of the “culture” lessons we received, about walking alone. We were told that people will ask, “Are you alone?” and that the root word for alone, “sendiri,” essentially means the same as “lonely.” So if you tell people you are “sendiri,” they might assume you want company. You WILL be asked for tea—sugary, sugary tea or coffee with ginger—and you will not know when the social visit will end, and it will be hard to get out of politely.
I knew I wanted to go somewhere totally beyond my imagination. I thought that would be India, and I could study (and hoard) a cache of beautiful fabrics (in college I was minoring in Fiber Arts—yes that's a thing). But the alphabetically-ordered university study abroad catalog had something called “Indonesia” instead. I saw that there was beautiful fabric made there—the birthplace of batik, and ancient weaving techniques. I earned a fellowship to go. I studied its charming, playful language, Bahasa Indonesia, which lets you roll your r’s for days if you want, and simply repeat words to make them plural.
Arriving in the East Java town of Malang, I remember one of the “culture” lessons we received, about walking alone. We were told that people will ask, “Are you alone?” and that the root word for alone, “sendiri,” essentially means the same as “lonely.” So if you tell people you are “sendiri,” they might assume you want company. You WILL be asked for tea—sugary, sugary tea or coffee with ginger—and you will not know when the social visit will end, and it will be hard to get out of politely.
Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere…*
No place has this been more literal for me than in Indonesia. At the end of the day, my face would hurt from smiling and greeting strangers. Once I ventured out to discover some caves which were filled with jewel-blue butterflies, each wing the size of a pizza slice. Some teenage girls saw me waiting for the bus home afterwards, and explained that I’d missed the right one, but there was another way back from the town near them. So they took me to their home, perched on stilts above the rushing river, where I laughed with the women and children as we bathed fully-clothed in sarongs.
The girls from the family at the butterfly caves, Sulawesi, Indonesia, circa 2000, author third from left
I’ve solo-traveled many places since then. I’m not going to say that it’s always rosy or that I haven’t been harassed or even endangered. Or that sometimes I’d really, REALLY rather not engage even with the most well-meaning of strangers. But I could not be more grateful that it was Indonesia where I was first immersed in the magic of being the cultural outsider. It is a place where friendliness to strangers is a deeply-held value. Indonesia holds the world’s largest Muslim population, and having experienced the love and sincerity of believers there, when I think of Islam, I think of the faces of my friends. It’s painful to me when others invoke to the name of this religion with fear or anger. I want everyone to have a friend of every faith, so they can picture that face when that faith is mentioned. Mark Twain famously said: “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness…” I think the opposite is true as well. (If you start with prejudice, that will be fatal to your travel experience.)
I am thankful for you, Indonesia! From Java to Sulawesi to Lombok, to the special Hindu hospitality of Bali, I hope others have a chance to increase their awareness of and appreciation for this country—whose culture and industry effects each of us in ways we probably have never considered (look at where your clothes and your coffee come from, for starters!).
I am thankful for you, Indonesia! From Java to Sulawesi to Lombok, to the special Hindu hospitality of Bali, I hope others have a chance to increase their awareness of and appreciation for this country—whose culture and industry effects each of us in ways we probably have never considered (look at where your clothes and your coffee come from, for starters!).
On a final note, the effects of the earthquake and subsequent tsunami on Sulawesi are still devastating lives and livelihoods. Consider giving to #MercyCorps, or to the #IndonesianRedCross (ifrc.org) for disaster relief. #IFRC
A smiling grandma ibu in the market, Sulawesi, Indonesia
Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere;
Each condition I flee from pursues me.
Each condition I welcome transforms me
*(excerpts discovered via Rob Brezsny, poem: A Spell to Commit Pronoia, by psychotherapist Jennifer Welwood)
RSS Feed