Chocolate Milk and Other Gifts

As usual, we were not sure of what today would hold. We arrived at the school expecting to meet with the staff who Yuna told us were particularly interested in hearing about Jen's "green school" and my IB program. Once there, she told us we would have to wait about half an hour. I tried not to be annoyed. Jen and I gulped looking at the room full of chairs wondering how large of a group we would be speaking to. Time passed and only a couple of teachers wandered in. We watched as Yuna tried to pull in a few more and the Assistant Principal joined us. Eight people. So much for a large audience. Yuna said, "Oh. Most are teaching a class right now." I couldn't figure out why a meeting like this would be scheduled during class time!
The meeting itself started very awkwardly. The teachers seem even more intimidated to use their English with us than the students! We shared about what it means to be a green school in the U.S. and the teachers seemed dumbfounded. It's clear the educators in Indonesia want their students to care about the earth, recycling, pollution, etc., but they do not have a clue how/where to start. We tried to provide them with simple steps and shared what our schools do, but you could sense their skepticism. Although I had prepared quite a bit of information on the IB program, no questions were asked, even when I prompted the discussion. The administrator was more interested in learning about the "Seattle sound" (the music scene); he spouted off American bands and expressed his interest to come to the U.S. for concerts. Obviously, it was not the discussion we hoped for.

Yuna's principal joined us at the end of the meeting and thanked us for all we had done. He presented us with a lovely bag filled with mementos for MAN Insan Cendekia. We especially love the "I love Cendekia" t-shirts. It was a thoughtful gesture. We, in turn, presented the principal and teachers who attended with gifts. It warmed my heart to make them honorary Vikings and to see the principal still wearing my school's lanyard later in the day.














We were really looking forward to our next adventure. We had met a young man, Charles Albert, in one of our early meetings in Jakarta. He was extraordinary - well spoken and progressive and the principal of an International school. We were thrilled to receive an invitation to visit, so Charles arranged for a driver to pick us up.

I felt giddy with anticipation as we arrived at Sekolah Tunas Indonesia. We were immediately met by Charles and Mr. Paul, a British man who was hired to help the students with their conversational English. We had not realized, but Charles' school was connected to a junior high and elementary school. All three levels were connected physically and clearly interconnected educationally. Charles brought us in to an office where we met his "boss", a woman who served as a director of the entire international program. It was impressive to see a female in charge of such an organization.

Mr. Paul then escorted us through the school, which was open and green. It looked like it belonged to the students with bright colors, plants, toys, etc. Charles wanted us to see all three schools so Mr. Paul took us to a first grade classroom. Upon entry, a little boy looked over and his mouth gaped open in utter amazement. Mr. Paul introduced us and the children smiled from ear to ear. We started to engage in discussion when a boy asked, "Do you like chocolate milk? Would you like one?" I could have died of the cute overload. The children asked questions and I marveled at how outstanding their English was in first grade. Some of them even sounded American! The milk boy was standing and asking a question when I took a picture and he said, "No, no! Do not take a picture of me. I am not special. I am just an ordinary boy." I think I could have lived in that classroom.














We were then taken to the high school section of campus where Charles eagerly awaited. He took us to a music class where students played the gamelan, traditional Indonesian music. It was beyond beautiful. Two teachers sat up front, one playing a drum and giving instruction and the other singing and giving cues. (This reminded me so much of the music class I observed at the school in Bali.) What a lovely treat!
Charles then brought us to a large area where students were gathering (both seated and standing). There were "hot seats" for the American visitors in the center. ("Hot seats" because we were going to be put on the spot with questions, but also because they were the only seats in the direct sunlight, a slight oversight on their part.) The school choir started by welcoming us with the most beautiful song. I was literally moved to tears. Then, a young man brought out a massive painting which he explained the senior class made together to represent them as a whole. Finally, a young man brought out an assignment which he explained (with the help of a translator). Ironically, I have given a similar assignment!





















With the presentations over, it was time for a Q and A session. The students asked insightful questions, many of which we had already been asked at other schools. What are the effects of 9/11? What are your thoughts on the upcoming election? How can I get accepted to an American university? What do Americans think of Muslims? I am always amazed at their curiosity and knowledge of the U.S. and wonder how much my students would be able to share about Indonesia.
We were then greeted by half a dozen ninth grade students who would tour us to the junior high. The students were competent English speakers and absolutely darling. I could tell they were proud of their school. We were shown a music class and for the first time, it was not music theory or traditional Indonesian music. They were learning guitar! We also observed a modern and a traditional dance class. I couldn't stand it and HAD to participate! I think this thrilled the students and teacher.




We continued around learning about the school and marveling at the interconnectedness of the levels. Talk about K-12 sequencing! The students looked like American students. It was free-dress Friday and I felt like I was watching my own students. Jen even took a picture of a girl who was wearing the same shirt he daughter owned. The students seemed very motivated to learn and happy. I loved when Mr. Paul told us, "We try to offer classes that will keep the students engaged and want to come to school." I wanted to say, "Yep. I know the feeling."

Our time at Sekolah Tunas Indonesia was way too brief. I felt disappointed that we were being rushed through at the request of our host. Too many things scheduled. Charles and Mr. Paul were beyond gracious. I felt like I learned so much about and from the school. I plan to keep in contact with Charles and I pleaded with him to come for a visit in the U.S. His vision would be progressive for both of our countries.
Yuna helped us to the local train station which I knew would be a true glimpse in to local life. No tourists on this train. Everyone eyed us as we patiently waited for our train. We clutched our bags and stuck close to Yuna who said we would be going in the "females only" car. Apparently, some incidents occurred in the past so the government insisted on providing female only cars. Once on board, I was thrilled - it was air-conditioned and the seats were pink!














Somehow in our quick shuffle, I broke my camera (which I was holding). The lens wouldn't go back in and I cringed at the idea of not being able to take pictures whenever I pleased. Ugh.

Our stop arrived and we stuck close to Yuna through the crowds which she described as "not bad". We headed for "the mall", but we needed to get through the street vendors first. The streets were literally packed with only small aisles to walk through (enough room for barely one person to fit). The ground was covered in filthy water, poop, and trash. We carefully stepped where we could and at times held hands to ensure safety. The men were finishing their afternoon prayer so the main area was packed with hundreds of men kneeling on newspapers to pray. When they dispersed, we entered "the mall" where we were met by Ms. Eva, who we were told was the queen of shopping and bargaining. In all her shopping wisdom, Eva explained, " Not comfortable for the shopping, but comfortable for the wallet."




















The mall, as Yuna described it was nothing like what we would call a mall. It was 13 stories of packed stores/vendors (and there are at least seven other buildings nearby that replicate what we saw). Everything was sold there - suitcases, jewelry, batik, knock-off purses, baby clothes, bras, etc. Floor to ceiling was covered in goods and everything was negotiable. We determined this was wholesale, where many Indonesians came to purchase and then sell for profit. For the first hour, Jen and I didn't speak or purchase. We were completely overwhelmed by the enormity of what we were seeing. Truth be told, we even felt a little sick. But after the initial shock wore off, and under the guidance of Eva, we shopped until we almost literally dropped.





At the end, we went to the top floor, which housed a mosque, where Yuna and Eva sat down our many bags (they wouldn't let us carry them) and briefly left us to pray. I do not know if I will ever be accustomed to the devout prayers given five times daily. It's beautiful, but mysterious and I question the male/female roles.




There was to be no train ride on the way home - too many bodies during rush hour so we had to settle for a VERY long taxi ride home, where most of the time was sitting in stand-still traffic. I felt exhausted and dirty and dreamed about a nice hot shower at the hotel. The exhaustion superseded the fact that we had not even had a lunch today. We had been so busy that we didn't even notice.

As we said our goodbyes, Eva presented Jen and I with lovely maps of Indonesia on scarves. It was a sweet gesture, especially since I'm sure she didn't have the money. After showering, Jen and I sluggishly left our rooms for dinner. We mindlessly ate and went back to our rooms to call it an early night. I'm feeling the drain, but I am also seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, a very welcomed gift.

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