Volunteer

Tradition is always difficult to change, especially when it comes to political reforms.

My friend, Wahyu, invited me to see the election of his village’s chief. One of his uncles, with the support of his entire extended family, is a candidate of this year’s election. Elections like this are held once every four years. Therefore, people with proper ID cards but who had left and worked elsewhere can come back to participate in this process.

We took a local bus from Yogyakarta to Magelang, then another one to Samerang, finally one to Derma, a village 25 km east of Samerang. The trip took only a few hours but the humidity had exhausted me. Fortunately, once I arrived, I was greeted with many smiles from the elders to the small children.

Any special events in any villages are always a reason for feast. Preparation and promotion of this election had been going on for months. Everyone is eager to see how their efforts will pay off and the results in these final days. At nighttime, family members gathered outside the candidate’s house after dinners for chatting and greeting of potential voters who stop by to show support under the big tent.

The next morning, I woke up to a strange sight – family members stuffing small envelopes with small bank notes, about 25,000 rupiah each ($2.5). Photos of the candidate and names of the voters are then stapled neatly on each envelope to avoid confusion. These envelopes will be given to each and every potential voter in the village on the night before the election, to solidify their support, in a way at least. It takes all day and night for the committee (family) members to finish this entire process. Since having a village chief in the family can bring prestige and honor, entire extended family will contribute to this election. I was told that his family for this election spent between 15 to 20 million rupiah. Are these efforts worth it? Only time can tell.

We escaped some of these activities during the day by going to Kudus, a nearby town famous for cigarette making, in a 20-year-old Vespa. After inhaling a considerable amount of pollution on the first major highway built in Java (connecting Jakarta to Surabaya), we arrived at the Cigarette Museum. As a non-smoker all my life, I felt strange walking into a museum that I have not much interest in. The notion of buying poison to put in one’s body is unthinkable for me, not to mention the politics behind the huge tax support of large companies to the government.

Anyhow, I strolled through the museum’s exhibition of an entire Indonesian family rose to fame and make history in this industry. It is amazing to see that nowadays hundred of brands were actually evolved from the original few.

On Election Day, we woke up bright and early and walked to the large field behind the school before 7:30am. Three of the five candidates had already arrived. They sat on the beautifully embroidered sofa in the center of the giant tent. My friend’s uncle stood next to his wife looking very nervous, while the others two looked more serene and confident. Another candidate arrived with his wife shortly afterward. Last but not least, the final candidate, in his 20s, waved and walked into the tent with his own encherages and overconfidence. All of them now sat across the stage watching and wondering who is going to make it to the final finished line.

The lines of villagers eagerly waiting outside the tent continued to lengthen until the voting process actually started after a list of announcements. Everyone waited patiently for the officials to check their Ids, then proceeded to go inside a curtained room to check off their candidates on the voting paper. Immediately after, they put the same piece of vote into the large wooden box.

Man gathered to chat. Women and young girls gossiped. Children kept staring at the balloons and paper toys until their parents buy for them. Hungry souls visited the few food stalls for iced drinks and snacks. I just tried to feel invisible among the crowds.

Voting was halted during midday and resumed around 2pm. By late afternoon, the results were obvious. The quiet but young candidate with a rich wife, who had stuffed the most money into his envelopes, won. The arrogant candidate left before the voting count due to low turnout embarrassment. My friend’s uncle and the other two older candidates, although disappointed, generously receded after the results came in.

On that day, all the villages in the Derma Regency had elections. The victors will bring great prestige to their families. These chiefs will receive many rice fields as rewards. They will decide to support or reject policies from the village committee and proceed to ask for funding from the national government. The losers will try again, if chances allow, in the future. This is ‘democracy at work’ - in a country that had come a long way from Soeharto’s iron fist until 1998, now finally achieve true democracy - popular vote for its own president (which many Indonesians can now proudly proclaimed as achievement over the US, a so-called democracy.)

How long can your concentration span in an old dirty classroom on a 30C and 90% humidity day with no fan or AC, listening to a teacher speaking in a language you barely know?

After 'sweating' a day with a few other volunteers at Prey Chrok Primary School about 45 minute from Siam Reap, I realize that weather is the last concern for these students from surrounding villages, opportunities is their priorty. Although a nearby wedding caused the attendance drop somewhat, the remaining 30 or so students in each class still participate eagerly during the one-hour class.

We met outside the SAGE agency in Siam Reap around 6:30am and began the one-hour minivan journey west on a bumpy dirt road. Perhaps I am of asian-origin, by the time we arrived at the school, many eyes were locked on me. I was there to research and take photos for a new website.

Since the English program started around Oct 2006 at Prey Chrok, most students seem to have already known the alphabets well. However, most have a hard time understanding what the teachers want to achieve in the exercises because of the lack of translation.

Perhaps it was a slow day, most other classes were idle with local teachers chatting with each other in the school yard while we taught inside the sauna classroom.

To be honest, after the first three classes and 100 photos, I felt embarassed at my own impatience because of the heat and humidity. The same material began to sound monotonous, like mosquitoes flying in my ear. But every time we walked into a new classroom, enthusiasm of the new students, like caffeine, refueled me.

What in the world can be more satisfying than bringing opportunities to children in the developing countries?

Arriving at the new Thailand airport, one doesn't take long to notice the display of the photo and symbol of the king everywhere. Even with the recent military coup and bombings on New Year's Eve, most Thai seemed to lead a normal daily life.

Like other asian cities, night markets are abundant in Bangkok. However, only after a day of sightseeing at the Grand Palace and floating market, I was ready to leave the air pollution behind for the Wildlife Rescue Centre, a real sanctuary for both human and animals, located in the Petchuburi province, about 2.5 hr southwest of Bangkok.

The illegalization of using elephants for logging in 1990s had driven Thailand's once sacred animal, the asian elephants, into money-making tool for some mahouts in many resort areas, together with many gibbons and other wildlife animals which are used for entertainment purposes.

I was introduced to three of the lucky ones, Kwaeta, Nun Foon and Non Bow, all females asian elephants over 30 years old, at 6:30am the following morning. Our three mahouts, Joi, Bum and Ta Ta, unchained them in the nearby forest. We, the volunteers, ride them to the center, fill up three large baskets of pineapple leaves and scatter them on the ground for them to enjoy. In the afternoon, we collect the leftover leaves, clean their 'poops' and take them to the river for a nice scrub and bath.

A strange kind of trust slowly emerged after only a few days of intimate experience of taking care of such a magical creature. It doesn't take me long to fall in love with these giant beauties with the charisma and intelligence that they process. There are the occasional show of affection between Kwaeta and Non Bow, with their trunks curling up in each other mouth.

I can spend hours observing their behaviour.

Working with elephants are also physically demanding, as we have to collect pineapple leaves every week in the plantations under a blasting sun for hours. But sitting on top of six feet of pineapple leaves after an hour of loading in the back of an open truck with a crazy mahout driver on bumpy roads is definitely a highlight.

Besides elephants, there are also over 10 bears at the centre. Most days after the elephant feeding, I would help the other volunteers to scatter and hide fresh fruits in branches inside the enclosure. One particular baby bear who was separated from his mother at an very early age, would make a calling sound with his paw over his mouth everytime I stand in front of him, as if he is asking me to nurse him.

Another treasure at the centre was a bengal tiger which was rescued from a small cage at a gas station which use him to make money. Because of the prolong entrapment from birth, his leg muscle was never developed fully. To balance himself when walking, this beautiful animal would swing from side to side. Watching this would simply break anyone's heart.

Gibbons, macquet and lacquer are also abundance. Some are blind, some missing limbs and some who had a hard time to socialize because they were kept as pets. Food, water and special diet are administered to them carefully everyday. A few aggressive ones would try to show their disdain to different type of people. Some hate asians, some hates caucasians, some hate women and some hates men. Who said animals are not racist like the fellow human being? But then who can blame them given their individual sad story in their past?

A week had flew by too quick. Saying goodbye to all my new friends at the centre, especially the animals, was very hard. Despite of my sadness, I will have to move on with my trip, only hoping to return and lend my help at the centre in the future.