FAITH IN INDONESIA

FAITH IN INDONESIA
The shape of the world a generation from now will be influenced far more by how we communicate the values of our society to others than by military or diplomatic superiority. William Fulbright, 1964
Showing posts with label English language learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English language learning. Show all posts

Friday, October 07, 2016

WHAT CHANCE INDONESIAN ON WORLD STAGE?

Love me, love my language                                                      
The Central Intelligence Agency’s human resources section doubtless had a busy summer clicking through undergraduate language enrolments.  Much the same was underway in Britain at the Joint Intelligence Committee.
When the students eventually get to toss their mortar boards in the air, the CIA and JIC will be calculating: Will there be enough speakers of Arabic, Chinese and Russian to fill upcoming vacancies for spooks and diplomats?
The rule of tongue is that one in five foreign language starters will graduate with high level fluency.  As around 35,000 have chosen Arabic in the US this year, the catchment area by decade’s end should be about 7,000.
Not a lot when few will fancy a career spooling through days and nights  of blurred closed-circuit TV tapes  just to spot the second when the missile codes change hands.
But that Arabic talent pool is an inland sea when compared to the Indonesian puddle. For currently only 300 American students have an interest in the language used in the world’s fourth most populous country, (250 million), plus Malaysia’s 30 million next door.
US foreign affairs strategists recognize that the biggest economy and largest nation in Southeast Asia is of critical global importance.  Indonesia straddles the Equator and sees a third of the world’s shipping slip between its 17,000 islands.  The Republic’s geopolitical position and influence is particularly important in helping monitor Sino aggression in the South China Sea. 
All that seems reason enough to know terabytes more about the sprawling Archipelago, understand its history, culture and identity, its nationalistic strengths and military weaknesses.
However the responsibility of amassing the expertise to competently read regional moods, analyse trends and provide sound advice to policy makers has been outsourced to America’s ANZUS partners – Australia and New Zealand.
Maybe not such a smart idea. Kiwi universities no longer teach Indonesian cultural studies or the language.  That leaves NZ’s big sister, much closer to the former Dutch East Indies, as the one best suited to be sentinel.
Curiously the watchman has lost interest and started to slumber. A sharp prod is needed if the Great South Land is to keep its US Deputy Sheriff badge, awkwardly self-awarded by former Prime Minister John Howard.  That was when George W Bush was in the White House and the two men in lockstep over containing Middle East conflicts.
Once it was different.
Back in the 1970s Australians were encouraged to learn more about their northern neighbor, and not primarily for reasons of defence and trade.  They responded enthusiastically for the images were all benign – cheap holidays in knock-out landscapes, friendly folk, tolerant faiths and a heroic past glimpsed through mysterious temples and unique arts. 
Exotic Asia at the end of the aerobridge, breakfast in Perth and lunch in Denpasar with no wristwatch adjustments required. Wags claimed Bali had become a suburb of the Western Australian capital.
Specialists in Indonesian politics, history and culture joined Canberra’s Australian National University, Monash in Melbourne, Murdoch in Perth and other top campuses.
The traditional centres of excellence at Leiden in the Netherlands and Cornell in the US were being eclipsed by scholars in the Antipodes, often working with Indonesian post-graduates.
This rosy arrangement bloomed anew in 1998 when dictator Soeharto quit the presidency in the face of student fury at corruption, mismanagement and crushing of freedoms.  When calm returned the new nation set about reassembling itself as the world’s third largest democracy.
Then everything exploded.  Literally.
The 2002 Bali bomb planted by Islamic extremists shattered ideas of a peaceful Islam and killed 202 Kuta nightclubbers.  The majority were Australian.  Religious fanatics targeted Westerners in Jakarta where the Australian Embassy was hit by a one-tonne car bomb in 2004 with nine fatalities.  A year later more bombs in Bali killed 20.
Australians turned away from their neighbor and former friend, many in sadness, others in anger. How could this happen in the Island of the Gods?  Too late to remember that Hindu Bali is an aberration; the political pulse throbs in Islamic Java.
Australia knee-jerked by building a new fortress Embassy (see Strategic Review 4 April 2016) and issuing travel warnings.
The law of unforeseen outcomes then kicked in; educational tours by schools and universities were cancelled because insurance cover was either unavailable or too costly.
Youngsters had been drawn to a language which uses the Latin alphabet and considered by linguists to be relatively easy. Suddenly the kids were pushed to look elsewhere by anxious parents and confused career advisors.
Now only 1,000 high school seniors are pursuing Indonesian; the old standards of French, German and Italian have returned as favorites along with Japanese and Chinese to the distress of foreign policy planners, academics and writers who know what Australians are missing.
American born British educated epidemiologist and former Jakarta foreign correspondent Dr Elizabeth Pisani tells a story disclosing the real thinking about Indonesia driving decision-makings. 
Pisani is one of the most lucid and informed writers on Indonesia.  Her latest reviewer-acclaimed book Indonesia Etc: Exploring the improbable nation was published by Granta Books in Britain though originally offered to the Australian branch of the international conglomerate Macmillan.
In a clumsily worded and logically inconsistent rejection note, editor Alex Craig replied: “Despite our proximity to Indonesia, or perhaps because of it, there’s not a great deal of curiosity among Australians about it … it tends to fall under the zone of familiar rather than exotic.”
It seems self-evident, or as Australians say, a ‘no brainer’ not to be Asia-literate.  When old mates live far away in Europe and North America and the people next door outnumber you eleven to one it’s wise to wave, have a chat, share a joke and help keep the street clean. Simple gestures lubricate harmony – and can lead to trade.
Politicians say they deplore the decline but do little to arrest. Colin Barnett is the conservative (Liberal Party) Premier of Western Australia, a major supplier of wheat and meat to its giant neighbor. In Jakarta this year to talk trade Barnett said language is not so important because most meetings are held in English.
Educationalists and diplomats groaned in despair. 
On the other side of politics Chris Bowen, the Labor Party Federal shadow spokesman on economics, startled journalists this year by announcing he’s learning Indonesian, as though this was like nude tightrope walking – weirdly newsworthy.  It is: Only three federal politicians out of 226 are known to be fluent.
Also anxious at the decline are academics like Professor David Hill of Perth’s Murdoch University. He started the Australian Consortium for In-Country Indonesian Studies (ACICIS) in 1994 to overcome ‘the substantial academic, bureaucratic, and immigration impediments that had prevented Australian students from undertaking credited semester study at Indonesian universities’.
Since then almost 2,000 have used ACICIS to learn while living in Indonesia – usually in rented rooms or boarding houses with the locals; they’ve returned with deep insights unavailable to deskbound learners in Australia.  Impressive?  That averages less than 100 a year from a country with more than a million undertaking tertiary education.
Indonesian has been classified by the Australian government as a Nationally Strategic Language.
The title sounds grand but only means that special federal funds can be given to universities teaching the topic.  Indonesian is not alone in this category; it includes Arabic, Mandarin, Hindi, Japanese and Korean.
Despite this support Professor Tim Lindsey, director of the Center of Indonesian Law at Melbourne University, told ABC Radio that if the current rate of decline continues Indonesian would not be an option at Australian universities within a decade.
“We're reaching a position where Germany may have more universities teaching Indonesian than Australia,” he said.  “Australia is the only western tradition country in Asia, yet it rates the lowest among all OECD countries by a long shot for second language skills.
“If current trends continue it may end up teaching very little Asian languages except to kids of an Asian background or context.”
Indonesian academic Ariel Heryanto works at the Australian National University’s School of Culture, History and Languages.  It’s a prestige unit, internationally recognized. Yet staff cuts this year to meet lower budgets have further eroded Australia’s stockpile of language skills. 
Professor Heryanto told Strategic Review that travel warnings have been “only a small part of the story”.

“It is hard to make young Australians interested in learning Indonesian … unless that subject has some relevance to their daily life outside the school,” he said.
The Indonesian and Australian governments, plus some Indonesian communities, are trying to effect change.  The Australia-Indonesia Youth Association has branches around the country.  It’s funded by the Australian government through Foreign Affairs and Trade, and also runs the annual National Australia-Indonesia Language Awards.
In Sydney the Australia-Indonesia Association sponsors meetings, events and language competitions.  So does the Balai Bahasa Indonesia in Perth. There are similar groups in other major cities.
But Heryanto said he was “not aware of a sustained, large-scale, and strategic plan with long-term vision.
“The challenge is just too big and complex for ad hoc events and activities. The fruits of those recent attempts, if any, will not manifest anytime soon, or last long.
“Government and non-government efforts are always welcome, but they will not determine or guarantee success…it is unwise and unrealistic to take the unusual situation in the 1970s as a measure of success. All we can do is try to improve the situation gradually, with resilience, passion and patience.”
 The passion seems to have evaporated, while resilience and patience get tested every time there’s a crisis involving the two countries.
These are regular events.  In 2013 Australia was caught eavesdropping the phones of then President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY) and his wife Ani, a disclosure which opened serious diplomatic fractures, widened when Australia refused to apologize.
We don’t know what the couple said, but they were probably chatting in Javanese, which must have baffled the buggers. It’s an ancient, complex and hierarchical language with separate registers depending on the speaker and the person being addressed. It’s still widely used in homes, streets and markets.
Although Indonesian is the national formal language taught in all schools, for most it’s their second tongue. Founding president Soekarno argued with his revolutionary colleagues that if Javanese was imposed on the new Republic there’d be little chance of unity.
So trade Malay was chosen. The world would have been different had he selected English, a language he’d mastered. But that was never likely to happen; his distrust of the West was a major driver in his policy planning.
 (breakout)
Good for goose, good for gander
While Australia is doing little to promote Indonesian language and culture, Indonesia is equally slack in getting to grips with English.
When mateship stalls at the standard street greeting of ‘Allo Mister’, whatever the foreigner’s gender, then communication collapses. 
Outside Jakarta’s elite offices and major universities quality English is rarely heard except among students from private high schools or language academies where parents pay heavily for native speakers as teachers.
The most prominent is English First a commercial franchise started in Sweden last century. It now has more than 60 branches in big cities.
Every year EF rates non English-speaking nations on their English proficiency based on on-line tests.  These claim Indonesia has ‘moderate proficiency’ with a rank of 32, below Vietnam but above Thailand.
The government-supported Indonesia-Australia Language Foundation which started in 1989 has only three centres.  It trains around 800 full timers a year, mostly serious students seeking overseas scholarships.
In the Indonesian State system English used to be compulsory in elementary schools.  Three years ago the government proposed a ban on English before high school. Deputy education and culture minister Musliar Kasim reasoned that classes should concentrate on the national tongue.
This caused a parent revolt. The compromise is that English is now an elective at elementary level.
Now most of the nation’s 50 million students first encounter the international language in junior high school; they have four hours of instruction every week, almost always from teachers who have never studied overseas.
There’s heavy reliance on grammar and rote learning.  Few kids graduate with confident communication skills and even fewer excited by the prospect of exploring further.
More than 50 percent of Indonesia’s 280,000 tertiary lecturers are unprofessional, according to Ali Ghufron Mukti, director general at the Research and Technology and Higher Education Ministry.
Public universities are restricted from employing native speakers while few private institutions offer money which would attract top teachers from overseas or even retain their own graduates. Salaries above Rp 10 million (US $750) a month are reported to be rare, even for PhDs.
For Professor Adrian Vickers in Sydney University’s Department of Southeast Asian Studies “the low standard of English remains one of the biggest barriers against Indonesia being internationally competitive.
“In academia, few lecturers, let alone students, can communicate effectively in English, meaning that writing of books and journal articles for international audiences is almost impossible.”
The facts support him: In the latest list of countries producing scholarly papers recognized by international academic institutions, Indonesia ranks 57, below Malaysia (35) and Thailand (43).
Lack of English is also threatening peace in the region where minor miscommunications can flare into major misunderstandings.  When Indonesian warships confront foreign vessels allegedly intruding into their seaspace they shout at each other in English
Five of the seven Indonesian presidents have been fluent in English. SBY (2004-14) isn’t a star turn in his homeland where he’s remembered as an indecisive figure, but in Australia he’s become an eminence grise delivering lectures – in English.
Presidents Soekarno, Habibie and Abdurrahman Wahid were multilingual. The present President Joko ‘Jokowi’ Widodo has a halting grasp. He sent his sons to Singapore and Australia for their higher education.
 (breakout)
Soft power diplomacy
In the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) set up in 1967, the language of communication among the 10 states is English, much to the anger of Indonesian nationalists who rightly point out that their tongue dominates the region.
If Indonesians want others to respect their language they need to do more than just rail against Western hegemony.
One of the best models of exporting culture is Alliance Francaise, the French government’s promoter of the language and everything from cuisine to culture.  Founded 133 years ago it now has branches across the world sometimes linked with consulates, as in Surabaya.
Helping the curious learn more about the French and the civilization they so strongly defend against foreign assaults is France 24 the TV station which curiously also offers an English language service in Indonesia.
The Germans have followed suit with Deutsche Welle another world-wide broadcasting service also funded by taxpayers.  As a non-profit network, programs flow smoothly, unrestricted by advertising breaks.  Schools teaching German can get showered with well-produced education materials
The most recent developer of soft diplomacy is the Chinese government through its Education Ministry.  Though only 12 years old the Confucius Institute has already had a major impact by working with education providers in other countries.
So far about 500 institutes have been established world-wide with the goal of a thousand by 2020.  The organization doesn’t just provide teaching materials; it also pays for native-speaker aides to work with classroom teachers.
Inevitably fears have been raised, particularly in the US that the CI is surreptitiously spreading communism, but so far there’s been no proof that the Institute is a political Trojan Horse.
Indonesia’s poor efforts in the game of turning overseas attitudes without using hard weaponry is Darmasiswa. This is a non-degree scholarship program run through the Department of Education and Culture.  It pays for courses at selected institutions in Indonesia.
Malang’s Malangkucecwara College of Economics [MCE] is one of 104 providers of a six-month Bahasa Indonesia bagi Penutur Asing (BIPA – Indonesian for Foreign Speakers) course.  This year students have come from Eastern Europe and Japan, though only one from the US.
By Western standards the monthly Rp 2 million (US$150) allowances are tiny though sufficient for basic living. The courses tend to attract determined polyglots unconcerned about personal comforts.
Although BIPA programs are available in some overseas countries, usually through diplomatic outposts, these offerings are just brief banner-wavings when compared to the cultural assaults of other nations.
The Indonesian news that gets onto screens and newspapers in the Anglosphere is rarely fun stuff.  Grim clips of floods and landslips, smog and traffic snarls, bizarre happenings involving politics, corruption, faith and justice combine to create an image of chaos and danger.
Indonesian artists, fashion designers (except those working with batik) and sports stars rarely get a Western following. Indonesia has no entertainment export like Korea’s K-Pop to excite the upcoming generation.
As Hollywood knows well films are an effective cultural thrust.  While heavily oppressed Iran has emerged as an active and creative film industry outside the mainstream, Indonesia cinema is largely blank.   The reasons include censorship, a dearth of skilled film makers as creative artists were distrusted during Soeharto’s 32-year reign, and low investment in the industry. 
Exceptions have been the ultra-violent box-office hits Serban Maut (The Raid) and its sequel The Raid 2.  Both featured the Indonesian martial arts of silat. They were directed by Welshman Gareth Evans
The works of the late Pramoedya Ananta Toer, a prolific writer who came close to winning the Nobel Prize for Literature, were banned in Indonesia till this century.
Indonesia has few TV documentaries and dramas to offer the world.  Its major outputs are sinetron (soap operas) produced by Indian-controlled companies.  These are based on formulaic acting and predictable scripts, pap even when measured against even the most crass sitcoms from the UK and the US. So no Indonesian versions of Brooklyn Nine-Nine or Mrs Brown’s Boys to help the world giggle and gasp.
Indonesian free-to-air TV is available to those within the footprints of satellites like Palapa D.  This includes Australia.  But there is no dedicated Indonesian international service designed to promote the nation’s culture and language.
As a handy distraction from more vital issues, nationalists regularly call for foreigners working in the Republic to be fluent in Indonesian.  Last year a regulation was drafted to compel testing.  The idea was widely denounced as impractical and rapidly evaporated – to the great relief of Australians.

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(First published in quarterly Strategic Review October-December 2016)

Sunday, May 18, 2014

KAMPUNG INGGRIS: INDONESIA'S CENTER FOR 'ALLO MISTERS'

Language lite in gritty city


Westerners planning a trip to Pare should pack patience and good humor before they visit the East Java town known as the English kampong.  Duncan Graham reports.
Anyone with white skin, a long nose and taller than the locals is an unprotected species in Pare, once an agricultural center of 18,000 people servicing the vast fertile plains around nearby Kediri.
Now Pare’s prime industry is teaching English, with conversation classes a main feature.  But with whom?  Enter the prey – a strolling foreigner grazing the streetscape. The students salivate – who’ll leap first?
Most know the traditional ‘Allo Misterrrr’ approach is ineffective (particularly towards women) so have refined their behavior.  The pack pounces; encounters are friendly, but wearing and there’s little escape.  Welcome to Kampung Inggris.
“I don’t like the term,” said Mohammed Kalend Osen, the man who started it all almost 37 years ago. (See sidebar.)
“It suggests that everyone in the street speaks English and that’s not true.  I don’t want people disillusioned.  From the time I first started the Basic English Course (BEC) till the year 2000 there was just my school. Now see what’s happened.”
At first glimpse Pare seems a delight.  More than 120 ‘schools’ offering a rijsttafel of courses to suit all learning tastes. 
Across the road from BEC, alongside, behind and beyond, BEC’s rivals shout for business with gaudy banners and risible names.  

London, Oxford and Cambridge get honorable mentions, but the Oscar contenders for the most pretentious have to be the UNESCO Course, Wall Street Academy and the Onthel Islamic Institute, named after an ancient bicycle. Slogan: ‘The onrushing nomad of the English language’.
Close behind are The Valiant and Choice, which offers an imaginative set of programs including ‘cocoon speaking’ and ‘crust grammar’, while Venus gently implies less cerebral  delights. By contrast Melbourne shouts its main attraction – Girl Camp.
At this point let’s take a reality culture check. In Pare ‘camp’ means a single sex dormitory where English is supposed to be used 24 / 7, not a wild Woodstock love-in under canvas.
Most students are in their early 20s wanting to better their English for work or higher study.  They heard about Pare from friends and the Internet, and most are venturing afar for the first time.
“Just heading to study English in East Java for a few weeks, Dad’. Thank God she’s not going to heathen Australia where free sex rules.
Some schools, like BEC, are strictly Islamic, enforcing moral and dress codes, particularly on the women.  Despite this the energy and excitement of thousands of young adults gives Pare a fun feel. You can almost smell the hormones.
Management student Dwi Yandika Putra, 20, and his accountancy mate Muhammad Rifki Alhabib, 21, both from Jakarta though originally from Sumatra, freely admitted that meeting women was a major attraction.

“The girls here are more prepared to open their hearts,” said Rifki.  “It’s easier to get to know them. We can mix with people from all over Indonesia and make new friends.”
Added Dwi: “Pare is so refreshing after the chaos and pollution of Jakarta.  This is the real Indonesia.  The landscape is fantastic.”
Indeed, but it also includes nearby Mount Kelud that exploded last month (Feb) showering the town with a gritty grey sand that makes sidewalks slippery.  Many choose to ride bikes, easily rented at Rp 70,000 (US $6) a month.
Several industries have sprouted to service student needs in Pare.  Facilities include boarding houses, laundries, photocopy kiosks, restaurants and coffee shops – though surprisingly few booksellers.
Pare isn’t a tourist town so has been spared the exploitation virus that infects places like Bali.  Food, transport and accommodation costs are genuine rural rates for inland Java. Students said it was easy to live well for Rp 1.5 million (US $130) a month including tuition fees.
Demand for space to build new schools has boosted land values tenfold, according to Pare Town head, Ahmad Wahyudiono.
“In the holiday season we get up to 10,000 students,” he said. “So many other industries have grown up to serve their needs – our economy has tripled. People now have work who were previously jobless.
“It’s not our job to give permits for schools.”

Fleeing the forest

Muhammad Kalend Osen (right), now 69, grew up in Serbulu, East Kalimantan.  His father was a farmer and the lad worked for a timber mill.
“The Singaporean owner spoke English, and so did my uncle who’d been in Malaysia,” he said.
“I admired them and wanted their skills.  I knew I had to get out of the forest and make something of my life. I also had no religion and I needed faith.”
Aged 27 he moved to Java and became a Muslim. “It was my time of revolution,” he said. “If I’d gone to a Christian area I’d probably now be a Catholic or Protestant.”
He studied English at an Islamic boarding school near Ponorogo, East Java and found the going tough, claiming it took him a year to achieve the results now reached by his students after three months.
He married a teacher from Pare and moved to the little town. A couple of friends sought him ought to help with their studies.
“I thought there might be a business here,” he said.  “My wife inherited land and we started BEC.  Now more than 20,000 have studied with us.  We currently have around 600 students from everywhere in the archipelago – we’ve even had two from Thailand.
“The 15 staff are mostly former students with teaching ability that I’ve selected.
“I understand the criticisms but my methods have been developed through experience.  Yes, I’m authoritarian, I believe in discipline.  I know what works.  The most important thing is to have spirit.
“I use US President John Kennedy’s quote to inspire students: ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country’.
Among Kalend’s techniques is to bus students to Borobudur to meet foreigners. The military style pre-assault briefing includes examining a model of the massive Buddhist temple to determine the best ambush spots. 
“Not at this entrance,” Kalend advises.  “Wait till they’ve finished enjoying with their darlings.”
Teuku S Iskandar, 21, came to BEC last October. He now speaks English with earnest confidence having “got 14 foreigners” on his last visit to Borobudur from 15 approaches.  He’s happy to chat about anything, including religious differences.
“In my homeland of Aceh the teachers weren’t serious,” he said. “They didn’t care whether we learned or not. Once I complained and got a D mark.  In Pare I had to start again with the alphabet.”
“I never went to university,” said Kalend. “I’ve never been to an English speaking country. We tried employing a native speaker once but there were too many cultural differences.
“He was from Scotland and didn’t even understand pluperfects. A teacher has to know.
“No-one from the government has ever been to check what we do.  Even the regent hasn’t visited.”

Comment: Micky Mouse education?


It’s easy to ridicule the Pare model.  Unqualified teachers with no overseas experience, uncertified courses and negligible resources. Uncorrected errors cemented as fact.
BEC, which is the biggest show in town with a splendid musholla and a major building expansion underway, has no language laboratory or library.  Class sizes of 40 students in plain rooms make individual attention impossible.
The sounds of Pare aren’t the clatter of traffic but Islamic pop and the ritual chanting of chirpy but soulless greetings: ‘Good morning Madam, how is your day today? The weather is fine, is it not?’’ Conversation minus cadence makes for sterile communication.
This is teaching language without culture, making English like Esperanto, the constructed tongue that failed through want of human roots.  Absent is an understanding of the ancient and complex language streams that have made English the dominant force in the world. 
Pare pedagogy is English lite, de-caffeinated and mild.  Regulation-choked Western states would close every school and probably launch prosecutions.  Yet despite the flaws and faults something is working that’s hard to dismiss.
Pare’s success indicates failings in the State education system and rejection of the fees charged by more structured private schools like English First. But that’s not all.
A critical mass of self-motivated learners sharing a common goal, driven by a cautious sense of adventure, generates its own energy.  Maybe Indonesian learning styles are organic; they’ve evolved and work best without outside interference. There’s a doctoral thesis lurking here.
Last August the Pare model was transplanted to Karang Indah in South Kalimantan to build tourism and help locals get work overseas.
There’s no independent evaluation. Those who fail to master the language don’t rush to journalists.  Others, like Sovi Ardiansyah, 18, have found the confidence if not the vocabulary.
“Hello Sir, I’m Sovi from Chile,” he announced, darting through traffic at the sight of a freckled face.  South American?  The guy looks unalloyed Indonesian.  
“You know Sir, next to Bali.  We call it Lombok, you say chilli. Ya?”
Well, no, but who cares. Two men from wildly different backgrounds and cultures share a few laughs and bridge gaps. That’s the Pare effect.

(First published in The Jakarta Post 14 May 2014)
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