KALEIDOSCOPE

I hold the kaleidoscope to my eye
do a tiny twist with my hand
and a new image appears
I look, twist again
and another image crystallizes:

a selamaton (ceremony) marking 1000 days
after the death of Pak Boesch’s mother
the men get out the mats
we women sit with the children off to the side
men chant and pray sacred text
prostrating, standing, kneeling

then women and children join the men
sitting opposite on the rattan mats
the children are suddenly very quiet
the imam offers special prayers for the dead mother
we intone some parts of the prayers too

we are individually invited to
a feast cooked by Pak’s wife
silahkan (please, come, enjoy)
delicious

some of the women are covered
others not
I inquire, “What does this mean for you?
I hear most often, a sincere, “It helps me feel closer to God
because it is a constant reminder.”
the Muslim head coverings are quite beautiful here
with jeweled pins and color coordinated with clothes
lovely fashion statements actually

other conversations bring in other points of view:
“She says it’s her choice, but really
she’s responding to her husband’s request.”
another: “My fiancé and I talk about
everything and we make decisions together.
I like being covered. I made this decision on my own.
No, I don’t know how common this is
for Muslim men and women to talk equally.
In the city it is more common than the country.
I wonder if anything will be different when I get married.
Was it different for you?”
another: “I had a good job in the city
and my Korean employer would have given
us a car and my fiancé a job…anything, for me to stay
but a woman must follow her husband
so right after we were married
I went to his work in a rural village
with no running water or electricity. I cried.
Now we live in town and have three beautiful boys.”
another, a white woman: “From my sense of it,
these women would find it
very hard to stop wearing head covering.
I think it is a kind of protection for them.
They imagine that it keeps them safe
from all their faults showing. They hide behind it.”

The seventh graders interview parents
or grandparents about their lives.
Adella says, “My grandmother said, ‘You have
a teacher who wants to know about ME?’”
Sean writes: “If my mother [named Larissa, age 39] wanted to go from one place to another, she rode a horse. Her favorite food was fried rice. If she was sick she ate soup [and got a massage].” Alsha writes: ” When [my father] he was a child, he just had a radio, a watch, and a traditional toilet called ‘jambon.’ They used fire and wood for cooking. When they were on holiday, they just went to the forest. They used boats to get from one place to another.” Adella writes: “I have someone to interview. She is Tati Kena Laba, my grandmother. . . now she is 74 years old. . . .I live with her. When she was six year old, she could cook for her parents. Tati’s favorite food was manghahai soup, a traditional food from Central Kalimantan.” Segah says that his grandma Ranti Batus who is 65 “played with dolls with her sister and was scared of the dark. . . . She didn’t go to school because there was no school.”
Most of the children in our school come by bus, have cell phones, access to computers, and their families have motorbikes and houses with electricity and running water.

In Janny Scott’s wonderful biography of Ann Dunham, Obama’s Mother
who spent 20 plus years in Indonesia, I read: “Like pretty much everyone is Indonesia in those years [she arrived in 1971], they had no running water, no plumbing, no telephone service. To brush their teeth, they pumped water from a well, boiled it on a single kerosene burner, and spat it off the front porch. . . .They had fenced a five-foot pit in the yard for use as a toilet. Bushes served as a clothesline.” (Scott, chapter 4) In rural villages that we have visited, things are much the same, with the additions of a few generators and dish satellites.

The sixth graders love to use new American expressions like
“It’s a bummer.” “Piece a cake.” “Holy moly”
Reading together “The Phantom Tollbooth”
they buy some words at the word market:
quagmire and flabbergasted
we look up the meaning in the dictionary
the next day, one of the buses is late
Bagus says “The bus is in a quagmire.”
and laughs
“People will be flabbergasted
when you use these words,” I tell them

“You wrote really great stories for homework!
I want to read a few excellent sentences.
Here’s one from Syifa’s story
‘Suddenly, the Princess heard a small voice saying,
You can make some money by dancing in the street,
and I will sing a song to make it more colorful.’
What I like about this sentence is that it uses dialogue
and suspense to keep us interested and curious.
She could have said, ‘Then the bird told the Princess
that she could make money by dancing.’
That would have been kind of boring, right?”

Ibu invites me on a motorcycle ride
to some off road places.
“Will you come?” “Sure, I’d love to.”
“But I have to ask your husband for permission to take you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I am going into ask him.”
she drops me off at our cottage
and formally asks Ren’s permission
he smiles and says, “Yes, she has my permission.”

Education Day
a national holiday
the students
have practiced well
they line up at attention
while the Indonesian flag is raised
and a formal declaration is read
teachers on the other, salute
the students sing several patriotic songs
the co-principal speaks
this is a very formal event
as different as it could be
from our Monday morning assemblies
the students do both equally well

5 pm swim
Ahhhhh, a delight
water like getting into a lukewarm bath
refreshing anyway, deeply refreshing
floating on our noodles
looking up at the amazing cumulus clouds
like living sky creatures
horse (kuda), dog (anjing), cat (kucing)
sky darkens and bright, bright Venus emerges
other swimmers join us sometimes
palm trees surround the pool
this is an Indonesian loveliness
the magrib Muslim prayer
coats and blesses our ears
.

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[Photo credit: stock.xchng/melodi2]

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ANGKOR WAT TEMPLES

We meet our guide, Rom, after lunch at the hotel
He too has the Fren(ch) English pronunciations
so it takes a few hours to understand clearly

it is hot, very hot
after our long drive
surrounded by peasant life
and jungle foliage
we are inside a journey
the temples emerge from the jungle
all the more grand for being in some degree of ruin
Rom says, “Root quake and plunder.”
In many places the roots have won and
the enormous stones give way to the persistently, silently growing
mass of tree life
built with rocks from quarries far distant
brought in by elephants and put in place
with pulleys and ropes and
masses of men
laborers and stone carvers
Hindu temples in the 8th century
modified to Buddhist temples in the 12th century
four directions, four walkways, each for specific persons
the highway for the kings–the grandest
the kings retinue
the common people
the generals and soldiers

In Indonesia, my friend Hermia handed me a book:
“You’re going to Cambodia, here take this one,”
The Gentleman in the Parlour by Somerset Maugham–
about his 1920s trip through Southeast Asia
I immerse myself in the book and through Maugham’s eyes
I can feel the place from an earlier time before thousands of tourists
when the jungle had truly taken it over

To quote Maugham from page 136
“If indeed you are curious to know what this stupendous monument looked like before the restorer set to work upon it…., you can get a very good impression by taking a narrow path through the forest when you will come presently upon a huge grey gateway covered with lichen and moss….Entering you find yourself in a vast courtyard strewn with fragments of trees, towering above you, shrubs of all kinds and dank weeds; they grow among the crumbling masonry, forcing it apart, and their roots writhe like snakes upon the surfaces of the stony soil. The courtyard is surrounded by ruined corridors and you climb hazardously up steep, slippery and broken stairs, threading your way through passages and vaulted chambers dripping with wet and heavy with the stink of bats….Here and there great pieces of carved stone hang perilously. Here and there on a bas-relief still miraculously in place stand the dancing-girls veiled with lichen, mockingly, in their everlasting gestures of abandonment.”

In 2012, the grand arched entrance is made even more grand
by elephants carrying tourists across the moat
monkeys, thought to be the souls of monks come back to guard the temples,
make the place their home and are not shy
even when carrying their tiny black-furred babies

For me, the visual images here are inscribed
with heat, sweat, and the physical effort of clambering
through doorways, over fallen rock,
through courtyards, into dark alleys
now, I come upon this one carving,
this one lovely woman in formal design
carved in this very corner
100s of years ago by an ordinary laborer.
through a tunnel my view opens
to an enormously tall tree
its roots like a giant’s fingers
holding an entire wall in its hand

endless and intricate bas-reliefs
“Here you have princes on elephants with the state umbrellas open over their heads making a progress among graceful trees; they form a pleasing pattern which is repeated along the length of a wall like the pattern of a paper. There you have long lines of soldiers marching into battle, and the gestures of their arms and the movements of their legs follow the same formal design as that of the dancers in a Cambodian dance. But they join battle and break into frenzied movement; even the dying and the dead are contorted into violent attitudes. Above them the chieftains advance on their elephants and in their chariots, brandishing swords and lances. And you get a feeling of unbridled action, of the turmoil and stress of battle, a breathlessness….only the chariot wheels rest the eye in the chaos.” Maugham, p. 140

In the center of the great 5 towered mass
are very steep steps up to the top level
Ren’s knees are a bit tenuous
so Reatrey, Ren, Rom, and I
hold hands and help him up
counting aloud each step … 6, 7….
we get there…32…together

The view out to the jungle in three directions
and the vast courtyard and pool in the fourth direction
is potent with triumph
of both nature and human skill and ingenuity

at a turn in the tower
in a nook built into the walls
I’m astonished to see
a consummately peaceful reclining Buddha
the orange scarf wrapped around him
is magically lit by a ray of sun at just this one moment in the day
he radiates golden light almost too bright to bear
he is immersed in incense and prayers
and worshippers on their knees
there are many more Buddhas
some left alone, some sitting, some standing
some draped in orange and attended by incense

one of the seven wonders of the world
centuries of heinous war, killing, and death
millions of suffering enslaved laborers
gave their lives to make a place for the Buddha
who wanted tranquility and equanimity.
In the remains of this costly ancient pillaged temple
lies a Buddha in eternal peaceful repose
visited by thousands of respectful and peaceful people
from multitudes of cultures speaking multitudes of languages

at days end we emerge from the temple complex
to walk the grand passageway of the kings
as wide as a highway
built of 1000s of great light stone blocks
surrounded by a vast moat
reflecting the five towers
in the softer colors that evening brings
and, ahhhhh, there, right there is the rising full moon!!

the amount of attention and creativity involved
in communicating with Rom and Chan and Reatrey
has created a magical feeling of cross-cultural intimacy
Ren has been calling Reatrey our granddaughter
and she sweetly uses a fan
to cool off “grandma”
Rom has one last thing to show us
in a remote corner of the last gate
“the only smiling figure”

THE TRIP TO SIEM RIEP

“Madame, there are no flights available to Siem Riep and the Temples?
So, I can arrange something really good for you.
You take the bus, leaving this afternoon in an hour.
A.C. and comfortable.”
We wait for the lovely and friendly hotel manager, Sambath, to check on this.
She returns. “Bus has only 1 seat left. I have another idea.
A taxi with a driver. It is a 5 hour ride. A.C. of course,
and the driver speaks English. A little more expensive,
but then you go whenever you want and come back whenever you want.
Leave maybe 6 am and get there by noon. Then a tour guide for the temples.
And I have a boutique hotel for $44 US for the night.
Okay? It will be good. I will make arrangements for you?”
Khmer is her first language, French is her second.
We sit by the pool and wait.
“Yes, Madame et Monsieur, it is arranged for you.
And is it okay if I send along one of the young women
who works here with you. This is a new trip and I want her to
tell me how it goes. Is it okay?”

Thus begins one of the most memorable adventures of our lives…
“My name Chan,” says the driver.
“My name Reatrey (Re-try),” says our hotel companion
Chan is 25 and Reatrey is 22. She attends university and is studying
hospitality. She can speak good enough English that we can get along.
Chan has been studying English for a month or so at home with a CD.
When he has money, he takes a lesson.
He is shy to speak and when he does and we understand,
his smile lights up the whole car.
we learn two Khmer words: chup meaning stop, okun meaning thanks

Soon they are chattering away in Khmer in the front seat
with plenty of youthful energy
while we in the back seat
become totally absorbed in what we are seeing
5 hours each way of country life
for me, the scenes are compelling
I am taking thousands of eye photos

A mere 40 years ago, ALL the educated people in this area
were killed. Wearing glasses was enough of a sign.
The US laid down more bombs in Cambodia than in all of WW 2!
And today we Americans are treated with respect and warmth
The remains of war are invisible landmines and some bomb craters
that are now re-vegetated and look like water holes
And the people, the people carry on their lives
as they have for 1000s of years with a few upgrades
“My home is right up this road 40 kilometers.
I am going home on my motorbike next weekend for Khmer New Years.”
“What happens at Khmer New Years?”
“We clean out the house and wash the Buddha and make everything
clean for the new year. Everyone comes home to see family and for parties.
We give presents to grandmother and grandfather and parents.”
Chan adds, “If I have money, I give money. If I don’t have money,
I give a shirt or a dress.”
“And we visit the temple and leave a gift for the Buddha, and we drink and dance.”

Driving, as I now know it to be in developing countries,
is a combination of art, skill, luck, grace, and kindness of others.
Our driver is calm and steady and weaves in and out of other cars,
trucks, motorbikes, pedestrians, tuk tuks.
I try not to look, but hold my breath
as he moves around a truck head on into an oncoming car
that slows down just enough for a few feet of leeway
The a.c. doesn’t work very well in the back seat
It’s takes about an hour and a half before we get to a place
where we can get breakfast…thick coffee with condensed milk and noodle soup
in an open air market where we are the only white people in sight
Chan and Reatrey take good care of us.

From my window view of the passing world I see
a man with a big fat pig in a basket on the back of his motor bike
two orange-robed monks on a motorcycle
a man with an armload of palm sugar branches
ready to be juiced
a woman selling all kinds of exotic fruit
from her stand made of sticks lashed together
we stop and Reatrey buys a few things
we taste “lotus” (lowtuce, accent on the tuce) fruit…nutty
we don’t taste the crunchy black beetles that she loves
we pass a man balancing a ladder on his bicycle
a van with UN Human Rights painted on the side
a lexus
white Brahma cattle literally amble across the road
no one honks, they just slow down and let them pass
water buffalo are staked in the fields
Chan’s cell phone rings
men walk behind wooden plows in the fields
while Chan talks on the cell phone

During my 10 hours of viewing
I looked into thousands of little wooden homes
ranging from really, really poor with palm branch walls
to kind of middle-class
For a composite:
wooden posts in cement footings
hold up a square wooden structure
a story above the ground
there is a blue painted and decorated
stairway leading straight up to an open door
in the middle of the structure.
One small window on one side, open also
Walls are painted in a light blue
with the window frames a darker blue
a Buddhist orange cloth hangs at the top of the doorway
the roof is sheets of metal with 2 peaks to add length to the house
flowers are in pots at the base of the stairs
inside it is dark

“What is inside the house, Reatrey?
Are these like the house you grew up in?”
“Yes, just like this. Two rooms, no walls.
On one side we sleep. No, no beds.
We sleep on the floor. We have a pillow
made of cotton (cot-tone, accent on the tone) from a tree here.
No, no counters. In the kitchen we squat down and cook.
We cook with a fire. We make a fire with a lighter.
No, no grill. We have a piece of cement on the floor.
We put rubber on the cement. Yes, rubber from the rubber tree.
Then we light it and put little sticks on to make a fire
and then we put the rice in the pot on the fire.
No running water. Electricity for a black and white tv
comes from and old car battery (bat-tree, emphasis on tree).”

Underneath the house
is where most daily life happens
always a big table in the middle of the space
under the house
people sit or squat on the table,
boxes and bags of rice are arranged on the ground
a bicycle, a neat pile of wood
a hammock with a sleeper in it
red plastic chairs
people squatting
things in plastic bags hang from the posts
clothes hang on a wooden rack
lots of things in the space
all neatly arranged

a lashed, wide open weave wooden fence surrounds
a brahma cow although the fence would never hold a cow that didn’t want to be there
a 15 foot high haystack organized around a center pole
a dug out water hole the size of a swimming pool
to store water from the rainy season
a very large round pot or three to hold water from the village well
a tarp on the ground holds unhusked rice drying out
a woman pushes the rice around with a little broom
a richly painted gold and yellow and orange family shrine

“How did you decide you wanted to go to university?”
“When I was very little, my mother asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up.
I said I wanted to be a doctor and go to university. She said, ‘okay.’
Yes, I’m the first one in the family to go to university. I just always knew it.
My parents are rice farmers. I don’t want to be a rice farmer.
It is very hard work, all the time. My mother also has a little store.
I changed my mind about doctor.
Now I want to run a hotel. Yes, my Dad is very proud of me.
I like going home.”
I am very interested in Reatrey’s life and her family life.
The information from these conversations
come together like the pieces of a patchwork quilt
made of tender persistence and careful listening
for example, when I asked her how the fire didn’t burn the floor,
Reatrey looked amazed that I didn’t know about the cement slab
I am reminded of the south sea islanders who purportedly
couldn’t see a clipper ship because they didn’t know about ships
She did well, translating her world to me

Cambodia is 95% Buddhist.
Every few kilometers we pass a glittering temple
gold, orange, yellow, red and ornate
plain, high walls and very richly decorated roof edgings
in towns, they are the center of town
in the country
we see a fancy arch
and then my eye traces down a long, long dirt road
a highway of my imagination as I consider what temple, what town,
what ordinary extraordinary things might be down this road
so open and yet so clearly leading somewhere as yet unseen

(Image: stock.xchng/eschu1952)

“I’M NOT NERVOUS”
INTERVIEWS with the 12th graders

6th graders interviewed the 12th graders
they were very nervous at first–
interviewing the 12th graders–their heroes!
we made up interview questions
they did the interviews
and had a good time
surprise!

they edited each other’s stories
with a red editing pen I gave each one
“Everyone needs an editor,” I said
“You should have seen how many red marks
from my editor that there were on my book.
I didn’t like it at all. Then I found out
that the changes made it a better book.”

Ren and I discovered that there are
typical Indonesian English mistakes
representing differences in
grammatical structure
we have names and symbols for these:
snake mistakes (under and over use of plural s)
skyscraper mistakes (capitalization)
clock mistakes (lack of agreement of verb tenses in a sentence)
envelope mistakes (other kinds)
we use the symbols and then they make the correction
they learned about the publishing process

it was a proud and exciting moment
when they delivered a copy
of their interviews to each class
as if it were a real newspaper

Here are two of the interviews

Kak Noko, by Journalist Syifa

Kak Noko’s full name is Tri Andi Sunoko, be we often call him Kak Noko. He was born on the 22nd of June 1994 in Central Kalimantan and his zodiac sign is Cancer. Kak Noko is living in Sukamulya that is located in front of Rungan Sari. His hobby is skateboarding and his favourite movie is Harry Potter because he said that Harry Potter’s story is adventurous. At school, Kak Noko’s favourite lesson is physics because physics is easy to understand. He also had a favourite teacher named Pak Gunardjo. In recess time, Kak Noko likes to play guitar and he wants to be a successful singer like Bruno Mars. Kak Noko said that being 12th graders is hard because the lessons are complicated. Kak Noko also said that when we are in 12th grade we should study hard to pass the National Exam. His dream after passing the national exam is going to the university called ITB (Institut Teknologi Bandung). Besides all this, Kak Noko can also speak French. He wants to learn French because the French language is awesome. I like interviewing Kak Noko because he is funny and friendly. I’m not nervous to interview him because he’s an easy going person.

Kak Hengky, by Journalist Shila

Hengky Susilo is his full name. He lives in Sukamulya on Tjilik Riwut Street. He was born in Pulang Pisau between Central Kalimantan and South Kalimantan. His birthday is on the 2nd of November 1993. He will continue studying or working after 12th grade. “12th grade is cool and awesome, “he said. His favourite foreign countries are Australia, America, and Japan. He wants to go to Australia because he wants to take a picture of him with a koala. He wants to go to America because he wants to see the biggest museum, and he wants to go to Japan because he wants to study there. A time he felt scared was when he was about 5 years old and there was a big thunderstorm. He respects people who are younger than him. He has a big wish and it is to be a successful person. Something that makes him sad is that he lost a person he really loved. A time he felt angry was when he got a toothache and there were people disturbing him. He wants to be a doctor and a singer because he likes to study those lessons. He has a “girlfriend” but we don’t know who she is because he doesn’t want to say it. Now he is teaching primary students in public school every Saturday. He feels happy because he’s only 18 years old but he is already teaching and he said he is the youngest teacher. He was thinking about 12th grade and he thinks it is hard to be in 12th grade because he will get a National Exam. “I will feel successful if my dreams come true,” he said.

Image: graur codrin/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

CAMBODIA

Phnom Penh–just the names bring forth
images of war, massacres, jungles, poor peasants,
rice paddies, ambushes, fear, danger, landmines…
flying in, we look down at small green patches
of villages surrounded by fields and connected by
small brown roads
I’m surprised not to see the ravages of war.
The airport is modern-ish
You can get along in English or Khmer or French
Cambodia was a French colony
I had forgotten
Cambodian English is kind of delightful
Since they can’t say the ce or ch sounds,
we hear “Have ni time, This is Fren restaurant,
Do you want ri with that?”
In addition, English is pronounced with a French accent
like: “This is a pagoDA, These are loTUS flowers.”

Our dear friends David and Nerina and their son Curran
meet us at the airport
and drive us to our little bed and breakfast
in the “expat” area of town
Phnom Pehn is an Asian city
coming into its own economically
In the morning, David and Nerina
come by to pick us up in a “tuk tuk”
a quaint little cart pulled by motorcycle
“$2 dollar” (American money is the most popular currency!)
we plan the day, “Let’s see
how about a lovely $8 hour-long foot massage
in a lounge chair with tea or juice?
and then there’s the FCC (Foreign Correspondent’s Club)
where we could go for lunch
it’s on the Tonle River just where it connects with the Mekong
closed up during the war days
but now back in service
tall ceilings, fans,
river views, pagoda views
classic pub atmosphere…
then maybe a nap and a swim
and then Nerina and Cedar can get their hair washed
and their nails done for $7
Then we can go to a wine bar where we get a view of the city
and then a Cambodian barbecue that’s a must while you’re here.”
“Okay, sounds great!”

There’s not much to see in the city
other than daily life happening
and there is plenty of that
the usual street stalls with all kinds of merchandise
the massive central market
teeming, literally, teeming with everything imaginable
and linked with every imaginable smell
exhausting after 15 minutes of wandering and bargaining
new apartments gradually replacing old slums

we have good food, good times with our friends,
friendly hotel to stay in
adventures to remember

Note: To see photos from our spring break trip to Singapore, visit the Right Use of Power page on Facebook.  While you’re there, please take a moment to “like” the page!

SINGAPORE

under a spell and in a legend
she is a lady hawk by day
and the handsome wolf’s guardian by night
he, a falconer by day
and a wolf by night
only at the moment of transition
from night to day and day to night
can they see each other truly

just so, it seems,
we see most clearly at brief moments of transition
like entering the airport in Singapore
I notice with my body
the things that I have adapted to
living in Central Borneo
the escalator works in Singapore, but
my body has now adjusted to the remarkable challenge
of getting on a non-moving escalator
I hesitate to drink the water in the drinking fountain
although I don’t need to in Singapore
signs are in English and are amazingly clear about what to do
and where to go
I move straight forward
instead of looking around casting about for indications of directions
bathrooms don’t have water on the floor, have toilet paper,
and actual toilets to sit on, no squatting required

on the drive to our hotel
we see curbs and a wide variety of flora
streets are litter free
no smoky smell in the air
no mosquitoes with Dengue Fever
to worry about
red lights mean stop
not a suggestion to stop
in our hotel
the shower is strong and the hot water lasts
longer than a few minutes
there is a mirror in the bathroom
and no little geckos running around the walls and ceilings

on the streets and in the shops
English is the common language…
I am now so unused to speaking in public.
Since I don’t know Indonesian
Ren communicates for both of us
but here I remain silent out of habit
Suddenly, I realize that others can understand
our conversation
in Palangkaraya, it is so rare to see white people
that I stop to talk with each one

Singapore, exotic land of the Orient
known from childhood as
land of wonder “Made in Singapore”
now big city with wondrously
amazing skyscrapers
and 15% of its households
are US $ millionaires!

we discover, to our delight,
Clarke and Robertson Quays with lovely
multitudes of riverside restaurants
we enjoy cheese and Cosmopolitans
and pizza and Starbuck’s coffee
and croissants and salads

a little river boat takes us on a tour of the river
and the harbour
twilight is a romantic time
we glide by fantastical skyscrapers
one is a three-towered casino
with an enormous boat looking structure
connecting the 3 towers on top and sporting
trees and greenery looking like a bouffant hairstyle
more modest now
but grand in its day–colonial hotels
still uphold their regal position
right on the edge of the water
spotlit to a warm glow
now we glide past
the Singapore mascot:
the sculptured mer-lion
lit with a rainbow light-show

cab to the Raffles Hotel for an English breakfast
Winnie-the-Pooh would be accurate in calling it
“an old world residence of great charm”
my heart ruffles entering the colonnaded entryway
and long wide tiled porch
all a classic colonial whiteness
well-set off by sumptuous greenery
a turban-clad Indian “doorman” dressed
in formal colonial dress
guides us to the high ceilinged dining room
with classical dark wooden tables and serving bars
ornamented metal lamps add a soft, shadowy ambience
brunch for $48 Sing $ per person
we walk through, dining on the images
of the colonial days of the past
for better and for worse
the colonials have shaped this little country

at the other end of the hotel
past shops and fountains
is the coffee bar
perfectly adequate
choice of ten newspapers, 10 languages
to pick up and read

Singapore is also a little Disneyland
with multiple theme parks,
a zoo, enormous ferris wheel (the Singapore Flyer)
cable car, night safari, and lovely parks.
the evening river boat trip alone was just right for us

Note: To see photos from our spring break trip to Singapore, visit the Right Use of Power page on Facebook.  While you’re there, please take a moment to “like” the page!

THE FAMOUS SIX
9 weeks at school

it’s been nine weeks now
next week is the last of the term
the 6th graders
at first shy and silent
now, arms around each other,
call themselves “The Famous Six”
(a play on a book they read called “The Famous Five”)

chalk it up to the natural result
of familiarity
and there are things they’ve taught me
about how to help them flourish

why are they reluctant to speak English?
their culture is naturally soft-spoken
they are afraid they will say things wrong
and, big one, their passive vocabulary
is sooo much larger than their active one
they know what they want to say,
they’ve read or heard the word
but they can’t pull it into voice

we go through the fabulous book “Anamalia” (by Graeme Base)
looking on each alphabet page for pictures of things
that begin with the letter on the page
they know things like: Roman numerals, raccoon, roller skates,
ram, rocking horse, rolling pin, rattlesnake, register
they pronounce these words in Indonesian (rom, peen)
so I know they have not actually heard the word

for Indonesians, English (Inggris) is very important
because it is their bridge to the world
and Central Kalimantan is one of the least developed
of the large nation of Indonesia
Reading is important, of course,
but clarity and fluency in speaking is at least as important
Monica wrote on a spelling word sentence
“When my family went to Hong Kong, we were frustrated
because even when we spoke English, they didn’t understand us.”
(the spelling word was frustrate)

So my focus has been on speaking clearly and fluently
one of the complications with this is
that they hear so many different accents:
Indonesian English, British English, Australian English,
and more rarely, American English, although
much of their passive vocabulary comes from
watching American movies, and they consider
American, the “coolest” accent

Here are a few of the things we’ve figured out
• practice reading aloud and pronunciation with
younger grade picture books (baby books we call them)
because the words and phrasing are simpler
• when one child says the word incorrectly,
they all practice saying the word
• I notice and praise
“You said the word, that correctly this time.”
“You caught yourself about to get too silly and stopped.”
One day after a multitude of asking them
to speak louder and slower
I tried inviting them to give suggestions to each other
“Can you hear Dion?” heads shake,
“Would you like to?” heads nod
“Could you make a suggestion?”
Bagus smiles and says in a teasing high voice,
“Just a leeetle beet louder.”
We all laugh as I realize he is imitating me
in an exaggerated way….new class joke

• we invent and play “famous person gives a speech.”
each student comes up with one sentence, like–
“My family went on vacation to Jakarta.”
I look at the sentence and then introduce the student:
“Our next speaker is a delight.
She is a world expert on family vacations.
I know you will totally enjoy her speech.
Please welcome Ms. Shila!”
Shila comes to the front of the room
and says her sentence
we coach her to be loud and clear
and confident
She says the one sentence over and over
emphasizing a different word each time–
“MY family went on vacation to Jakarta.”
“My FAMILY went on vacation to Jakarta.”
“My family WENT on vacation to Jakarta.”
We laugh and clap for Shila

• And then there’s the “yes and… game.”
One student begins the story,
speaking directly to the next student
(not to me, so we practice conversation style
rather than teacher to student style)
“Ale and Bagus went to the mall.”
The next student says, “Yes, and….there they met
and he pushed Bagus down.” “Yes, and…Bagus was bleeding.”
We go around three times and the stories that emerge
are funny, teasing, serious, fearful.
Full of the 11 year old psyche: vampires, blood, ghosts,
making messes with food, boy/girl antics and awkwardness.
They’re having fun, they’re talking as if in conversation,
they’re listening to each other, and they’re playing in English
instead of just studying English.
I’m happy too.

(Image: jannoon028 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

That Name Thingy is No Problem
5 weeks of class

Hi Ibu
Hi Ale
Selamat Pagi
Apa Kabar?
Baik
Good morning
How are you? Fine.
Walking to school
Greeted happily by the children
now 5 weeks into the school term

Ibu Enda manages the office
copies, supplies, sick children
calls from parents, scheduling
the children know her as the
Ibu who will take care of everything,
solve every problem
and make everyone feel good

there are three teachers rooms
with a desk for each teacher
teachers have time off from teaching
to do prep work
so this room is a good place
to connect
Olivia from England
clues me in to a good website for ideas
for grammar
Pak Alve and I talk about
how we can collaborate on
social studies and economics
with the 7th and 8th graders

the students and I
know each other better
the first days were enveloped
in silence
now, an exuberance
of 11-going-on-12-year-olds
new energies coursing through their bodies
a sweet warmth with the girls
becoming more centered in inner strength
while the boys burst out of themselves
in playful teasing and wrangling
often unaware of their impact

each new teacher, like me,
has a new teaching style
and a new English accent to adjust to
last year’s English teacher was Indonesian
this has it’s challenging moments
for the students

we begin the hour
huddled, the six of them and I
around a book I brought with me
“Anamalia,” finding as many items
as we can on each page
focus and fun

never have I been in a classroom with as much freedom
we create our own vocabulary words
I teach grammar through looking at their writing errors
here are a few examples:
• My brothers are a messy person, but when my mom yells at them they become an organize person.
• Everyday where ever I go I always worries about my family. I’m afraid they are hurt and the only thing I can do is to pray to God so that God give protection to my family so that they are save and I always meet them when I am home.
• Last night I cook an egg, but the fire was so big so I turn it off so it not burns.
• When I was sick I always cough and its hurt. Then me and my mom went to the doctor to see what is happening to me. Then said the doctor, Oh mam, your son sickness was deman berdarah* so he mustn’t go to a hot place or not to play soccer on the field.
*a made up word, Ale says.

Yet again, I mispronounce Syifa’s name
a tear shows in the corner of her eye
not to embarrass her, I write her a note:
“I’m so sorry, Syifa. I mispronounced your name
and I see that it hurt. I want to pronounce it correctly.”
Soon a note comes back to me:
“It’s not because of you, Bu. I’m just sad that someone
has been careless to me.
That name thingy is no problem for me.”
Note back: “Oh, I’m so sorry that someone
hurt your feelings. Is that what you mean by careless?”
Reply: “Yes, it is.”
Our relationship has just gone one step deeper.

Leni and Herni in the office
discover that I’m a psychotherapist
“You’re a psychologist? We’ve never met one.
It’s like in the movies. Are you REALLY a psychologist?”
For a few minutes, they act subdued,
worried perhaps that I am seeing their secrets
“Oh gosh, I hope you won’t stop talking to me now?”
We laugh.

My most recent article on GoodTherapy.org, part two in a series on Right Use of Power for youth, discusses how the students in my classroom in Indonesia are learning to resolve relationship difficulties and even includes one student’s relationship repair success story.

Click here to read the full article.  

Please note: I am a regular contributor to GoodTherapy.org, an association of mental health professionals from over 30 countries worldwide who support efforts to reduce harm in therapy. GoodTherapy.org is ranked as one of the top therapist directories on the web.

[Photo credit: stock.xchng/abelmolina]