25 Thoughts I Had On My 25th Birthday

The end of my service is near, my friends. My mind is racing more than ever. Here's a little clip of what the inside of my brain looked like as I turned a quarter century old.

1) Why am I itchy?
2) I have to help my students prepare for an English debate contest. That's coming up on Friday.... Guess I'm working until the bitter end!
3) How many more call-to-prayers do I have left to listen to in Indonesia?
4) 17 days X 5 calls-to-prayer/day = ......ONLY 85 LEFT?!
5) Mmmmmmm, coffee!
6) I should go to school. It's 7am
7) No, I'll sit here, enjoy my coffee, and be late.
8) Wow, I've turned into such a local. I wonder if this relaxed attitude will work in New York
9) Omg, I'm still itchy.
10) It's noon. Oh no! Only 82 more call-to-prayers left!
11) AW! Ibu got me a cake!
12) Her hug is by far sweeter than the cake
13) This is my third and last birthday in Indonesia. Oh, how I've aged
14) AWWWWW! My LES students came to give me gifts
15) Why are the throwing flour at me at the same time? Oh right, it's tradition to pull a prank on the birthday girl.
16) I've gained 2 kilo since the beginning of the month
17) Whatever, I'm taking the extra serving of rice anyways
18) Omg, Bu Muji, you don't have to buy me a gift
19) Ok, are we really driving into town after dark so I can pick out my own gift? Lol, fine
20) What batik fabric do I want? Hmmmmmmmm.
21) I want purple fabric, so I can remember Bu Muji. Purple is her favorite color.
22) I'm itchy again. Ohhhh yeah. This is, without a doubt, my third time getting scabies since March
23) Wow, I've never seen Konan Beach at night. It's so quiet and peaceful. I'm glad Bu Muji and her husband took me here.
24) Bu Muji was the first person to take me to this beach two years ago. She bought me coconut milk. I wonder if she remembers.
25) The evening prayers are my favorite. Only 80 call-to-prayers left. I should silence my phone and enjoy this last one on my birthday. Allah hu akbar.

Akward Moments and Weird Things I've Done

I've had my fair share of embarassing and just plain strange moments these last 2 years. Here's a highlight of just a few....

Bank Trips: When I first moved into my village in June 2014, I could not handle the heat. I woke up sweaty, went to school sweaty, came home sweaty...I was just gross all around. Luckily, I found respite from the heat. I discovered that the local bank was the only buildling in town with air conditioning. One day I was sick of sitting in my house and sweating all day long, so I grabbed a book and headed to the bank. 

I sat there for 3 hours until a teller finally asked, "Miss, do you need help with your account?" 

"Oh...no! I'm just reading" I gave him a friendly smile and returned to my book. 

Coffee Mandi: The mandi (bathroom) is a small, tiled, multipurpose room. The toilet is in another room next to the mandi. In the mandi, I can shower, brush my teeth, wash my clothes, and pee all in one spot. Some days I spend close to an hour doing all my chores in my tiny, tiled mandi. One morning, I got the ingenius idea of taking my coffee into the mandi with me. So there I was...in the mandi...naked...washing my clothes...and hair....sippin' coffee. After I came out, my host mom asked, "Do all Americans do this?" 

I didn't want her to think I was strange, so I said, "Yeah! Of course! Totally normal, ibu." 

A Foreigner? HERE?: Locals will stop and stare at me like I'm some alien walking along the side of the road. People will shout at me or motorcycles will slow down to get a better look at my face. I was so confused at first. I'm just a normal person, why must they stare? I finally understood the local perspective about a year into my service. I was riding on an angkot (a large van used for public transportation) and we were pulling into my very rural village. I spotted a Caucasian couple walking around the market place. I literally had not seen a white person in my village, ever. I threw open the window, hoisted my torso out of the vehicle, and hung out of the side of the van until we drove away from the couple. That was the day I started calling myself a local. 

May I Help, Please?: Many times locals will treat me like a child because I'm a naturally clumsy person. If I try to cook, my host mom will take the frying pan out of my hands. If I try to help with the rice harvest, my host dad will shoo me away insisting that it's too much hard work. A few months ago, my neighbor was throwing a wedding party for her daughter and her new son-in-law. Everyone in the neighborhood was at her house helping her cook for 300+ guests. Of course, I wanted to join along in the festivities, so I offered to shred coconut. The other women kept telling me that I couldn't. 

"You'll cut your finger on the shredder!" they shouted. After 5 minutes of pleading with them, they finally let me help out. I'm sure you can tell where this story is going....

Not even a minute into shredding one measley coconut, I scraped my finger against the shredder. Blood spewed in all directions and I quickly put my finger in my mouth to ease the pain. My neighbor just sighed, took the shredder from my hands, and let me to the bathroom. For the rest of the day I sat in the corner and watched everyone else cook.

I've had many more embarassing moments and I'm sure there are more to come in the last 58 days I have left of service. Stay tuned....

Volunteer Island: How Strangers Become Family

One topic that doesn't get enough attention is volunteer-to-volunteer relations, so I'll touch on that on as best I can.

We live in a small social bubble with a little over 100 volunteers. Most of us live miles apart and lead completely different lives. Each village is different and therefore each volunteer's living situation is different.

Even though we live far apart, we still work as a team. We see each other at every training session and work together on community projects such as IGLOW/IBRO (Indonesian Girls Leading Our World/Indonesian Boys Respecting Others). We also join Peace Corps groups such as the Gender Equality Committee, Peer Support Network, Volunteer Advocacy Committee. 

On top of being work partners, we're friends! Most friendships here are built on common interests, but sometimes we're friends because we have only one major thing in common: the Peace Corps. And sometimes, sometimes, we form romantic relationships with each other....or purely physical ones.
 
To recap....We work with each other, travel with each other, date each other, befriend each other, endure long Peace Corps training sessions with each other, party with each other, and try our best to support each other through the hard times. Of course, it's not all fun and games. Sometimes we give each other tough love when all we really want is a  hug. We gossip about each other. We judge each other for random things. We snap at each other when working together.

I've acted childish with some volunteers and received the same treatment. It felt rotten at the time, but these problems seem incredibly silly the closer I get to ending my Peace Corps service. One of my best friends in Peace Corps had to leave her service 3 months early. When she left her village and said her goodbyes to other volunteers, she told me that any problem she had with another volunteer was simply forgiven.We've been through so much personally and as a group that it's difficult (nearly impossible) to hold grudges.

 Before I left for Indonesia, Returned Peace Corps Volunteers insisted that the people I would meet here would quickly become family. I had a hard time believing this, but as I close my service I understand what they mean. There are only a certain number of individuals who can understand this hot, crazy, sweaty, rice-and-selfie-filled life that I've been living for 2 years. We might not get along every second of every hour of every day, but what family does?

We're a family. A different type of family. A specific family. A Peace Corps Indonesia family.

Camp SEHAT: Sex Education and HIV/AIDS Awareness for Teens

For about a year, I have been planning a sex education and HIV/AIDS awareness camp. I hesitated doing it because I wasn't sure how much money I would need, if anyone in my village would help me, or if kids would even show up. I finally just sucked it up and told myself, "This camp is going to happen." Luckily, I had the support of my counterpart, Bu Muji, the entire time.

The banner for Camp SEHAT that welcomed all the students

I did most of the fundraising, but honestly Bu Muji put the rest of the camp together. Once the money arrived, she called all the presenters, wrote the proposal, and made sure the stickers/t-shirts/banners were made on time. I am so grateful to have someone in my village who is so passionate about HIV/AIDS prevention. She is a true gem.

Bu Muji doing a presentation on sexual harassment

The name of the camp came from another volunteer, Carly. SEHAT stands for Sex Education and HIV/AIDS Awareness for Teens. "Sehat" in Indonesian means "healthy." The acronym worked out perfectly! Camp SEHAT hosted 28 middle school students in a 2-day, 1-night camp.

Students lining up to register for Camp SEHAT and yours truly helping greet everyone!

For the most part, the camp ran smoothly. However, the students and I endured a lot of jam karet (rubber time) for the first five hours. Presenters were late, the opening ceremony was late, and we were late to starting our get-to-know-you game. It made my New England blood boil, but I had another volunteer, Julia, there to calm me down.

Four teachers (myself included) host the opening ceremony at Konang Beach

Over the course of 2 days, the students learned about sexual harassment, sex education, HIV/AIDS prevention. In between sessions, we played games and sang songs. The kids seemed to enjoy both the seminars and the games, so I'd go ahead and call that a success!

PCV Charisse and her counterpart Pak Khoirul Huda presenting on germ theory

Additionally, Julia brought two Indonesian friends with her who work in the health sector. They were so impressed with Camp SEHAT that they are trying to replicate it in their village next month. Their camp will host between 70-80 students. They are also looking to extend the camp, so they hope to do a 3-day, 2-night camp. I am so excited that this idea has hit the ground running!

Julia and I are both working on making materials and resources available for Camp SEHAT so that other Peace Corps Volunteers can replicate it in the future. I hope this is a sustainable project that I can leave behind as I move on from Peace Corps Indonesia. So far, it's off to a great start!

Time Moves Fast, Things Rearrange, The Only Constant is Constant Change

My service in Indonesia is quickly coming to an end. I have four months left and so my host family frequently asks me, "Will you return to Indonesia?" I always respond with a friendly, "Inshallah (If it is God's will)," but in my heart I know I'll return here someday.

In the two years that I've been here, I've seen my village transform before my eyes. The beaches are cleaner, the roads are newly paved, many of my students have smartphones, minimarts are popping up left and right...I feel like I'm watching a baby grow into a toddler and wondering where the time has gone. When I think about returning years and years from now I ask myself questions like, How much will change? What will this place look like? Will my school be the same?  What new shops will open in the town center? Will the market still be a labyrinth of locally grown fruits and veggies or will it be replaced by a Hypermart (a local chain similar to Walmart)?

I think I found the answer to these questions when I went to India over the December break. I hadn't been there in over 9 years, so naturally I was curious about how much had changed. When I boarded the plane, I secretly hoped that going to India would be like reuniting with an old friend and feeling like nothing had changed. I wanted to come back to the noisy, chaotic, and overwhelming (yet fun) India that I fell in love with during my last visit in 2007.

Bharat Mata, the national personification of India as a mother goddess

Alas, my hopes were quickly crushed as I walked through the Mumbai airport. I couldn't even recognize it because the place was recently remodeled. Everything was so much more glamorous and...orderly.


Well, maybe the roads will still be broken and bumpy like I remember it, I thought. Nope. The highway from Mumbai to my Surat (the city in which my parents live) is perfectly paved. Absolutely no bumps along the way. The roads weren't the only thing I noticed on the way to Surat. Almost all of the infrastructure I saw was either new or well on its way to being reconstructed. The bridges were equipped with streetlights, the toll booths were orderly, 4-story shopping malls were blossoming everywhere, and yes....I even  saw a Starbucks.

Holy cows! #Indiajokes

About halfway through the car ride, I noticed a large animal moving on the side of the road. The voice in my head screamed,  Yes! A stray cow walking freely on the road. Some things NEVER change! This was the first glimpse of the old India that I remembered. I looked around and realized that the India I knew was still there. I just had to look a little harder. Yes, the roads are newly paved, but on those paved roads are brand new Hondas and Suzukis that weave in and out between the rickshaws and the motorcycles and the bicycles and the large wedding parties in the middle of the streets and cows (especially cows!). It's still just as hectic as it was 9 years ago.

Me pretending to drive a rickshaw. Beep beep!

During the rest of my vacation, my parents took me around the city to their old homes and neighborhoods. The house my mom grew up in in being remodeled as I write this, but that doesn't mean the entire neighborhood is changing. Walking down my mother's street was like walking through an ongoing battle between modernity and tradition. New houses and apartment complexes are sprouting in every direction, but I didn't have to search hard to feel a sense of familiarity and comfort.

My mom's bathroom in her childhood home built in the 1960's

Building a new bathroom in my mom's home on the second floor with a tub!

A home similar to what my mom's home looked like before renovations

This is all just on the surface of India that is changing, though. It's the culture that is nearly untouched.  For instance, it is still okay to show up unannounced at a relative's home. Shops don't open until 11am or later. When walking through the market, shop owners scream, "BOL" (Speak!) when they think you're ready to buy something. After they've greeted you in this aggressive manner, you are expected to start bargaining immediately. And lastly, locals will bend over backwards to make sure you have eaten a warm home-cooked meal whenever you visit. Each time I visited my mom's friends and family, I was welcomed with fresh Indian bread, vegetables covered in delicious spices that made my lips tingle, sweets that could give me diabetes just by looking at it, and of course homemade spiced chai (the original, not the Starbucks knock-off).




After I returned from my holiday break in India, I stopped wondering what Indonesia will look like in ten years. Change is inevitable, but it happens slower than we think. I know if I visit in the future, my host family will try to serve me warm, sugary tea and wafers. My neighbors will ask the usual questions like, "Mau ke mana?" and, "Dari mana?" ("Where are you going?" and, "Where are you coming from?). I know my counterpart will first shake my hand before wrapping her arms around me in a Western-style hug.

 When I visit my village in 2026 or 2036, things will, without a doubt, be different. But I know I won't have to look too hard for the things I'm leaving behind in 2016.

More Photos From India

My mom talking with a dear family friend of ours. She made me pav bhaji (a Indian dish of spicy vegetables and buttered bread) and she sent her husband out to the market specifically to get me ice cream

 This is a photo from my cousin's clinic. The power went out, so his receptionists sorted prescriptions by candle light

Supermarkets are popping up everywhere in India, but that doesn't mean you can't buy your veggies from street vendors like these ladies!

The market in Surat. You can buy clothes, jewelry, sweets, pots/pans, and a whole bunch of other things here. Be sure to answer the shop owners when they yell, "BOL!" at you!

My mom buys her milk at the grocery store, but my aunt has her milk delivered every day in a silver tin (the little container hanging on the doorknob). India, old and new!