Don’t send aid, bring students Duncan Graham © 2007
Foreign aid is damaging the development of democracy in Indonesia.
It’s maintaining the handout culture inherited from the Dutch colonialism that kept Indonesia as a mendicant nation.
Aid also perpetuates the image that the country is backward; it is – though only in the reluctance to introduce change.
Indonesia doesn't need the $2 per citizen given in non-emergency aid by the Australian government, a major donor. The country is rich enough and if administered properly (meaning the internal tax take is handled efficiently and leakages plugged) then it could be self-sufficient.
The Indonesian tax office has long run a banner and billboard campaign to persuade people to pay their tax to help grow the nation. It's been overwhelmingly ineffective; business people regularly brag that they dodge tax because they don’t want to support corrupt officials.
Most governments don't plead for citizens to pay tax – they threaten and enforce.
This year Darmin Nasution, director general of taxes, confessed that only a third of the nation's 3.3 million taxpayers meet their responsibilities regularly. He said the number of taxpayers should be around 25 million. (The workforce is four times larger but low earners are exempt.)
Indonesia has a value added tax but it's only enforced in upmarket hotels and restaurants. Most small business run cash-only transactions and accurate books aren't kept.
About ten per cent of total government revenue comes from tobacco tax. According to WHO figures, tax as a proportion of the total cigarette price averages 31 per cent in Indonesia – one of the lowest rates in the region. Elsewhere it's more than double.
Despite the small tax base, these incomes contribute more than 70 per cent of the
State budget. Imagine what could be gleaned if all defaulters coughed up.
Reform of the tax system doesn't need a reinvention of the wheel; there are plenty of efficient revenue administration systems around the world that the Indonesian government can adopt and adapt. But that needs political will.
The Indonesian Constitution states 20 per cent of the nation's budget has to be allocated to education. The government ignores this charge, arguing it doesn't have the funds. It allocates less than 12 per cent. In the latest published figures Indonesia spent only 0.9 per cent of its GDP on education; Malaysia earmarks nearly eight per cent.
The result is a disaster. Most exams are tick-a-box tests. Rote learning is the norm. As emeritus professor Budi Darma, an acclaimed novelist bemoaned: “Students don’t want to read. They only want the synopsis of a novel. There’s no status in buying books.”
For many the idea of studying to better the mind is a foreign concept – education is to get a certificate to get a job. If you're not smart enough to pass you pay the teacher to up the marks or buy a forged diploma. In Central Kalimantan the local government claims more than 75 per cent of teachers aren't qualified and at least 20 per cent are absent at any one time.
None of these well-known problems need the fix of foreign intervention. They do need to front the queue of priorities if Indonesia is not to slip even further behind its ASEAN partners as a dumbed-down nation.
Overseas aid experts have no magic formulae unknown to Indonesians on making banking and business controls watertight, crushing corruption and collecting revenues. All that's required is the absolute determination displayed by governments elsewhere who demand a clean corporate image.
The Indonesian land agency is clogged with almost 3,000 land dispute cases. Clashes over ownership are regular and often violent – four villagers were shot dead by the military when the army took over farmland in East Java in June. Property laws pre-date World War 11. Past Indonesian governments have had ample time to write new legislation, but that hasn't been on their list of must-do tasks.
The public service is cumbersome and bloated, the result of past policies to disguise unemployment by getting ten to do the job of one. The third largest bureaucracy in the nation is the Muslim-dominated Department of Religious Affairs.
Some Australian aid programs teach 'good governance' and administrative reform. Worthy tasks, but they're pushing uphill against generations of corruption and indifference at all levels of society. Indonesia is a country where bureaucrats vie for postings to 'wet' departments like taxation, customs and immigration where the illegal take is highest. It's almost impossible to get any official licence, permit or certificate without paying a bribe.
Although Western politicians continually praise Indonesia for its transition from a military-backed autocracy to democracy it's a chorus that isn't echoed at the top in the Republic. Vice president Jusuf Kalla regularly comments that Western-style democracy isn't appropriate for Indonesia. He says economic development is being hampered because democracy allows workers and others to protest.
Employees are angry at pitiful wage levels and lousy conditions, but the unions aren't well organized and some get bought-off by bosses. In most areas the legal minimal wage is around AUD $90 a month; many get far less. According to business groups the real reason developers shy away is because the rule of law isn't applied, the legal system isn't transparent and the system of getting permits is cumbersome, lengthy and corrupt.
The World Bank reports that Indonesia ranks badly against regional economies in starting a business, employing workers and handling permits. It takes an average 224 days to get all the licences compared with 147 in nearby nations.
President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, a former general, seems to understand the need for reform. He says all the right things but his orders often go AWOL down the line. Being the leader of a minority party beholden to his deputy's powerful Golkar party for support means he has to spend time hosing down threats rather than igniting change.
The president, who was directly elected by the people, leads the six-year old Democratic Party. This won only 7.5 per cent of the vote during the 2004 legislative election.
The 'developing nation' label was hammered hard by former strongman Soeharto during his 32-year reign as president. It has become a mantra, recited unthinkingly by almost all Indonesians and insultingly accepted by overseas aid donors.
Developing? How long can a nation stay in perpetual puberty? Malaysia turned 50 this year and has long been a robust and independent adult. Modern Indonesia is 12 years older.
That many Indonesians are obscenely poor is not in doubt. Officially about 20 million are unemployed and a similar number under-employed. According to the Australian aid agency AusAID seven per cent of a population of 242 million live below the international poverty line of one US dollar a day.
The statistics don't lie. A visit to the crowded kampongs of Jakarta and Surabaya, or to remote villages will prove poverty is real and wretched. Equally a trip to any gated suburb in those same big cities will reveal the most ostentatious displays of gross wealth on a scale that would match Hollywood
Here are some more figures about Indonesian 'poverty':
· The Indonesian government claims its corrupt citizens have parked about US $100 billion in Singapore, money embezzled from banks and government projects.
· One third of Singapore's 55,000 megarich are Indonesian citizens.
· The Soeharto family is alleged to have squirreled away US $15 billion during its 32 years in power.
· In 2005 the Sampoerna family sold their tobacco company to Philip Morris and pocketed US $5.2 billion. Vice president Jusuf Kalla urged the family (the name translates as 'pure') to reinvest in their homeland but at last reports they were looking to buy overseas casinos.
Overseas non-emergency aid is mostly going to education, governance, infrastructure and health. The needs are genuine, but as long as paternalistic Australia does the job there's no need for Indonesia to get its act together and build better services for its own people, or make serious attempts to recover stolen cash. In a democracy that's what governments are supposed to do.
Despite all the deficiencies Indonesia isn't a failed state. It has all the civil engineers and skilled labor needed to build hospitals, schools, highways, rail lines, airports and bridges - all the factories required to supply the cement, steel and equipment – all the know-how to deliver potable water.
If Indonesia lacks some high-tech gear or specialized advice it can buy such goods and services from overseas. The only thing absent is the determination to pass and implement the laws, allocate the resources and get on with the job.
For every school in the archipelago funded by overseas taxpayers that's one less burden on local administrators, one more plush house for the military or luxury car for the bureaucrats.
Teachers and dedicated mid-level government officers who get some of the benefits from overseas aid are generous with their thanks. Others are suspicious. After Australia got involved in the East Timorese 1999 bid for independence, and since Australia has been supporting George Bush's Middle East adventures (always perceived as anti-Islam), many Indonesians believe our motives aren't pure.
Australia has some of the best fire-fighting skills in the world, truly tested by fire. Every year Indonesia has massive scrub fires in Kalimantan, usually deliberately lit, and that it can't control. The smoke haze has Singaporeans and Malaysians wheezing and weeping, sometimes for weeks.
But Indonesian Forestry Minister Malam Sambat Kaban wants no help from outsiders. He said foreign aid would "disturb the country's sovereignty." This isn’t an isolated case.
The more fundamentalist say Western aid is part of a 'Christianisation' campaign; others think foreigners are spying and scheming to promote regional separatism. Even among moderates there's a deep resentment against outsiders doing basic things that the local administration can and should do, and anger against their own idle governments who let foreigners take over.
There are about 40,000 Indonesians in Australia. The majority are fee-paying students and their families. Most are Christian Chinese Indonesians, rich because you have to be to pay the airfares and fees. They are not a representative sample of the Republic's citizens and they're not going to be the future administrators and politicians. The public service is almost entirely Muslim.
At the moment Australia gives 'partnership scholarships' to 600 clever students chasing post-graduate qualifications. A further 270 are offered as 'development scholarships'. The total cost is $78 million with most of the money going into the pockets of Australian educators.
Australia is widely seen as a nation that doesn't like Indonesians, despite its great generosity towards the victims of the 2004 tsunami in Aceh and the quake in Yogya. The perception has a lot to do with foreign policy, crass comments by senior politicians about pre-emptive strikes against terrorists and deputy sheriffs in South East Asia, and tough visa application rules. Politicians claim Indonesian attitudes have moved on, but these issues still rankle on the street.
The $458 million we're spending in Indonesia this year would buy a lot of scholarships for the smart but poor who could pick up skills for use in their homeland – and learn that the West isn’t the hotbed of evil portrayed by fundamentalists.
(First published in Online Opinion 5 Dec 07)
Formerly Indonesia Now with Duncan Graham - and still Interpreting Indonesia with a Western perspective:
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 university education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label university education. Show all posts
Friday, December 07, 2007
Sunday, August 05, 2007
WOOD BOAT BUILDING IN EAST JAVA
KEEPING INDONESIAN SKILLS AFLOAT © Duncan Graham 2007
English-born marine anthropologist and architect Michael Johnson spends a lot of time at Probolinggo harbor on the north coast of East Java, just messing about in boats – or to be more technical, studying their construction.
When the fleet is in, the wharves are stern-to-bow with multicolored fishing craft offloading their catch or taking on ice and stores for another sea venture.
"This is a sight I used to see as a teenager when I was apprenticed to a boat-builder in Yarmouth, Cornwall," he said.
"No longer. The fish stocks have been depleted and boats now are all made of fiberglass and steel. The old skills used in making wooden boats have just about been lost."
Though not in Indonesia, where keen-eyed craftsmen who can wield an adze and cut a seaworthy craft out of forest timber with all curves in the right places are still gainfully employed.
This is the workforce that Dr Daniel Rosyid, head of the Center of Marine Studies at Surabaya's Institut Teknologi Sepuluh Nopember (ITS) hopes can be used to create a new industry making practical and luxury boats for the overseas market.
Rosyid, who is also chairman of the East Java Educational Council, has formed a company called PT Teknologi Kapal Kayu Indonesia (Indonesian wooden boat technology) with Johnson as technical advisor. They've established a yard at Probolinggo, just 500 metres from the harbor.
Here they are already sawing, chipping and boring the keels and planks. On the order books are boats for French naval architect Francois Vivier - a 9.7-meter traditional gaff cutter, two 4-meter lug-rigged rowing and sailing boats, and a 7.8-meter classic yacht. Vivier is based in Pornichet, South Brittany.
Other projects under development include a 12-meter twin-screw sport fishing or service vessel, and a pilot cutter. This is a replica of a 1901 Norwegian lifeboat. A boat reconstruction project in Kalimantan is also being supervised.
Two wooden fisheries training vessels built for the Bupati (regent) of Jembrana in Bali have already been delivered. These were constructed in a yard in Surabaya, but the high cost of renting land near deep water has forced the company to move to Probolinggo where costs are a fraction of those in the East Java capital.
Although Surabaya is the Republic's second largest port and a major ship construction center, the government shipyard PT PAL dominates the industry. This specializes in large steel-hulled vessels, mainly for the navy.
Probolinggo is a commercial fishing boat harbor used by smaller timber craft, many built according to remembered designs passed down through the generations.
Tied up in the Probolinggo harbor is the Robert Guillemard. This is a 16.5-meter
West Sulawesi-style boat known as a bago lambo - a general purpose vessel using wind and diesel power. (Guillemard was the French sniper who shot and killed the English admiral Horatio Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.)
Johnson designed and built it for Paris-based TV journalist Gregoire Deniau who allegedly failed to continue payments after spending about 85,000 Euros (Rp 1,000 million) on construction and fittings.
Rosyid has now put the 15-ton ocean-going eight-berth boat on the market for 60,000 Euros (Rp 720 million) hoping it will attract buyers in the leisure and diving market, and further promote Indonesian know-how.
"I want to set up a world-class boat building facility in Probolinggo," said Rosyid. "There's a niche market here where buyers of custom-made yachts and other pleasure craft are particular about quality and originality. It's similar to the market for hand-built sports cars.
"We're also well located close to Malaysia, Thailand and India where new money is looking for recreation opportunities.
"We can build yachts to international Bureau Veritas certification standards at a fraction of the price they would cost elsewhere – always assuming yards overseas could find the workers and the timber."
Europeans are sensitive to buying wooden products from Indonesia unless they can be certified as sourced from timber that hasn't been illegally logged.
Johnson has bought teak from Madura and found a good supply of ten-year old agathis, a timber similar to kauri pine.
"Yards in Europe charge out labor for 40 euros (Rp 500,000) an hour," Johnson said. "We cost at the equivalent of four euros – and are paying the men well above local rates.
"Students from ITS have been involved in projects, including designing and building canoes for use in Aceh by in-shore fishermen. Now they can get experience on bigger and more complex projects.
"A lot of skills were lost in Europe during World War II but they are still here. The men only need to be trained how to work from computer-generated drawings and to use modern power tools. They understand the rest."
(First published in The Jakarta Post 2 August 2007)
##
English-born marine anthropologist and architect Michael Johnson spends a lot of time at Probolinggo harbor on the north coast of East Java, just messing about in boats – or to be more technical, studying their construction.
When the fleet is in, the wharves are stern-to-bow with multicolored fishing craft offloading their catch or taking on ice and stores for another sea venture.
"This is a sight I used to see as a teenager when I was apprenticed to a boat-builder in Yarmouth, Cornwall," he said.
"No longer. The fish stocks have been depleted and boats now are all made of fiberglass and steel. The old skills used in making wooden boats have just about been lost."
Though not in Indonesia, where keen-eyed craftsmen who can wield an adze and cut a seaworthy craft out of forest timber with all curves in the right places are still gainfully employed.
This is the workforce that Dr Daniel Rosyid, head of the Center of Marine Studies at Surabaya's Institut Teknologi Sepuluh Nopember (ITS) hopes can be used to create a new industry making practical and luxury boats for the overseas market.
Rosyid, who is also chairman of the East Java Educational Council, has formed a company called PT Teknologi Kapal Kayu Indonesia (Indonesian wooden boat technology) with Johnson as technical advisor. They've established a yard at Probolinggo, just 500 metres from the harbor.
Here they are already sawing, chipping and boring the keels and planks. On the order books are boats for French naval architect Francois Vivier - a 9.7-meter traditional gaff cutter, two 4-meter lug-rigged rowing and sailing boats, and a 7.8-meter classic yacht. Vivier is based in Pornichet, South Brittany.
Other projects under development include a 12-meter twin-screw sport fishing or service vessel, and a pilot cutter. This is a replica of a 1901 Norwegian lifeboat. A boat reconstruction project in Kalimantan is also being supervised.
Two wooden fisheries training vessels built for the Bupati (regent) of Jembrana in Bali have already been delivered. These were constructed in a yard in Surabaya, but the high cost of renting land near deep water has forced the company to move to Probolinggo where costs are a fraction of those in the East Java capital.
Although Surabaya is the Republic's second largest port and a major ship construction center, the government shipyard PT PAL dominates the industry. This specializes in large steel-hulled vessels, mainly for the navy.
Probolinggo is a commercial fishing boat harbor used by smaller timber craft, many built according to remembered designs passed down through the generations.
Tied up in the Probolinggo harbor is the Robert Guillemard. This is a 16.5-meter
West Sulawesi-style boat known as a bago lambo - a general purpose vessel using wind and diesel power. (Guillemard was the French sniper who shot and killed the English admiral Horatio Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.)
Johnson designed and built it for Paris-based TV journalist Gregoire Deniau who allegedly failed to continue payments after spending about 85,000 Euros (Rp 1,000 million) on construction and fittings.
Rosyid has now put the 15-ton ocean-going eight-berth boat on the market for 60,000 Euros (Rp 720 million) hoping it will attract buyers in the leisure and diving market, and further promote Indonesian know-how.
"I want to set up a world-class boat building facility in Probolinggo," said Rosyid. "There's a niche market here where buyers of custom-made yachts and other pleasure craft are particular about quality and originality. It's similar to the market for hand-built sports cars.
"We're also well located close to Malaysia, Thailand and India where new money is looking for recreation opportunities.
"We can build yachts to international Bureau Veritas certification standards at a fraction of the price they would cost elsewhere – always assuming yards overseas could find the workers and the timber."
Europeans are sensitive to buying wooden products from Indonesia unless they can be certified as sourced from timber that hasn't been illegally logged.
Johnson has bought teak from Madura and found a good supply of ten-year old agathis, a timber similar to kauri pine.
"Yards in Europe charge out labor for 40 euros (Rp 500,000) an hour," Johnson said. "We cost at the equivalent of four euros – and are paying the men well above local rates.
"Students from ITS have been involved in projects, including designing and building canoes for use in Aceh by in-shore fishermen. Now they can get experience on bigger and more complex projects.
"A lot of skills were lost in Europe during World War II but they are still here. The men only need to be trained how to work from computer-generated drawings and to use modern power tools. They understand the rest."
(First published in The Jakarta Post 2 August 2007)
##
Labels:
exports,
local skills,
university education
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
EMILIE VIGANO
DON'T CALL ME BULE, MISTER! © Duncan Graham 2007
Standard advice to foreigners in Indonesia is to respect local customs. But when these include stares and verbal harassment then the tolerance gets tested.
French lecturer Emilie Vigano has had enough of being called a bule – the standard kampong and village description of pale-skinned outsiders. This is a contentious issue among many foreigners. Some take it in their stride, a few reckon it's a bit of a hoot, but others (including dictionary makers) say the word is derogatory.
Emilie agrees. After five months in East Java she's now got enough grip on Indonesian to respond with some mild words about politeness. "I want people to call me Ibu or Nyona, as they would if I was an Indonesian woman," she said.
"With men I can't stand their rudeness. So I just plug in the earphones on my I-pod, smile a lot and keep walking."
Because this story starts with complaints you might conclude that the Frenchwoman teaching at Malang's Brawijaya University (a government institution) is a sensitive soul, a fragile francophone easily slighted.
Wrong. She's no stranger to cultural differences and is driven to try and make a positive impact on the world. Back in her hometown of Strasbourg she taught French as a second language to migrants and students and was moved by their problems.
The 2,000-year old city of Strasbourg is a good place to hone global concerns. It's up against the German border and a popular center for students from Asia. It's also headquarters for the Council of Europe and the Court of Human Rights. The European parliament runs sessions in the city.
Emilie's experience as a teacher gave her insights into the lives and concerns of people who'd come to France seeking a golden future far from their economic basket cases – only to tragically find no jobs, or just medial tasks – and discrimination.
Last year's street riots in Paris between mainly Muslim youth and the police, and the torching of hundreds of cars showed the crumbling chasm between those with the Euros and a future – and those without.
After graduating in French literature Emilie could have got a job in government schools. "There was no way I was going to work for national education," she said.
"There's such a great gap between top students in France and the rest, and the government doesn't seem to care. Students are divided – 'you're good, you're not good'.
"Many foreigners in France need help, socially and with language and culture. They're not getting it.
"I wanted to use my skills to help others understand more about the world, and give them the intellectual tools to succeed. My parents were from Italy. They moved to France after World War II for a better life, so I knew something about being an outsider, though in a mild way."
Knowing is not understanding, as Emilie is learning fast in East Java. But she'd already had a taste of that reality when she organized a humanitarian aid mission for a village in Kenya with a group of friends.
It took them two years to raise the cash and work their way through the spaghetti of international aid bureaucracy. But in the end 200 previously homeless families were properly housed.
"I didn't want to do this through an established agency," she said. "If I did that I'd have to follow their agendas, rather than mine. I know my own will."
After her Africa experience she wandered Europe in her quest for self-discovery but was keen to get into Asia. The French government offered her a one-year posting in Indonesia. She is now one of ten young French native speakers across the Republic passing on their knowledge of culture, language and teaching skills.
It's time for another pause in this storytelling, because a read back shows Madame is no simpering apologist for her background and views. So what's wrong with being a forceful female? Isn't equality supposed to be universal?
Not in the streets and villages of East Java where a tall, striking young self-reliant woman striding alone, using local transport, maybe smoking a cigarette can be a shocking sight.
"I'm prepared to change to meet local culture and modify my behavior in some ways, like dress. I'll open my mind, but I don't want to change being me," she said.
"I'd like Indonesians to be aware that all foreigners are not the same. I want to show something of European culture. People just know the stereotypes because so few get the chance to travel.
"We don't all want to stick together in groups, stay in big hotels and travel in private vehicles. Some of us want to explore alone, meet locals and understand more.
"I live in a kampong with a nice Indonesian family. Everyone is curious about my private life. In Europe asking such questions shows bad judgment. But I have to accept. I tell the truth, I'm Catholic, 25 and married. My husband is in France and we have no children."
The other shock was her students' attitudes. "I thought they were really lazy," she said. "I lost my temper for the first time, but that didn't do any good. People here are very kind but don't respect you when you get angry.
"I told my students (in the first semester she had about 50) that they were the next generation of hope, and Indonesia needed their knowledge and ability. They had the brains; if they didn't work hard now how could they do so in the future?
"They don't, but can still graduate. Some are very bright, but they have a romantic view of France
"I was advised by colleagues to take things more easily. This is the first time in my life that I've been told I'm working too hard!"
So have you had to lower your standards? "Yes. I expected this, but not so strongly. I appealed to the students to work together with me. That never happened. This has distressed me a lot."
What have you learned? "It is very hard to see things through another culture, but we must try. I know I'll be a better teacher when I go back to France because I'll be able to appreciate how difficult things are for outsiders. I should have done this when I was younger."
What do you miss most apart from family and friends? "Intellectual discussion."
Do you see yourself as a global citizen? "I'm not sure yet. Maybe."
An agent of change? "Ya!"
(First published in The Jakarta Post 13 March 2007)
##
">Link
Standard advice to foreigners in Indonesia is to respect local customs. But when these include stares and verbal harassment then the tolerance gets tested.
French lecturer Emilie Vigano has had enough of being called a bule – the standard kampong and village description of pale-skinned outsiders. This is a contentious issue among many foreigners. Some take it in their stride, a few reckon it's a bit of a hoot, but others (including dictionary makers) say the word is derogatory.
Emilie agrees. After five months in East Java she's now got enough grip on Indonesian to respond with some mild words about politeness. "I want people to call me Ibu or Nyona, as they would if I was an Indonesian woman," she said.
"With men I can't stand their rudeness. So I just plug in the earphones on my I-pod, smile a lot and keep walking."
Because this story starts with complaints you might conclude that the Frenchwoman teaching at Malang's Brawijaya University (a government institution) is a sensitive soul, a fragile francophone easily slighted.
Wrong. She's no stranger to cultural differences and is driven to try and make a positive impact on the world. Back in her hometown of Strasbourg she taught French as a second language to migrants and students and was moved by their problems.
The 2,000-year old city of Strasbourg is a good place to hone global concerns. It's up against the German border and a popular center for students from Asia. It's also headquarters for the Council of Europe and the Court of Human Rights. The European parliament runs sessions in the city.
Emilie's experience as a teacher gave her insights into the lives and concerns of people who'd come to France seeking a golden future far from their economic basket cases – only to tragically find no jobs, or just medial tasks – and discrimination.
Last year's street riots in Paris between mainly Muslim youth and the police, and the torching of hundreds of cars showed the crumbling chasm between those with the Euros and a future – and those without.
After graduating in French literature Emilie could have got a job in government schools. "There was no way I was going to work for national education," she said.
"There's such a great gap between top students in France and the rest, and the government doesn't seem to care. Students are divided – 'you're good, you're not good'.
"Many foreigners in France need help, socially and with language and culture. They're not getting it.
"I wanted to use my skills to help others understand more about the world, and give them the intellectual tools to succeed. My parents were from Italy. They moved to France after World War II for a better life, so I knew something about being an outsider, though in a mild way."
Knowing is not understanding, as Emilie is learning fast in East Java. But she'd already had a taste of that reality when she organized a humanitarian aid mission for a village in Kenya with a group of friends.
It took them two years to raise the cash and work their way through the spaghetti of international aid bureaucracy. But in the end 200 previously homeless families were properly housed.
"I didn't want to do this through an established agency," she said. "If I did that I'd have to follow their agendas, rather than mine. I know my own will."
After her Africa experience she wandered Europe in her quest for self-discovery but was keen to get into Asia. The French government offered her a one-year posting in Indonesia. She is now one of ten young French native speakers across the Republic passing on their knowledge of culture, language and teaching skills.
It's time for another pause in this storytelling, because a read back shows Madame is no simpering apologist for her background and views. So what's wrong with being a forceful female? Isn't equality supposed to be universal?
Not in the streets and villages of East Java where a tall, striking young self-reliant woman striding alone, using local transport, maybe smoking a cigarette can be a shocking sight.
"I'm prepared to change to meet local culture and modify my behavior in some ways, like dress. I'll open my mind, but I don't want to change being me," she said.
"I'd like Indonesians to be aware that all foreigners are not the same. I want to show something of European culture. People just know the stereotypes because so few get the chance to travel.
"We don't all want to stick together in groups, stay in big hotels and travel in private vehicles. Some of us want to explore alone, meet locals and understand more.
"I live in a kampong with a nice Indonesian family. Everyone is curious about my private life. In Europe asking such questions shows bad judgment. But I have to accept. I tell the truth, I'm Catholic, 25 and married. My husband is in France and we have no children."
The other shock was her students' attitudes. "I thought they were really lazy," she said. "I lost my temper for the first time, but that didn't do any good. People here are very kind but don't respect you when you get angry.
"I told my students (in the first semester she had about 50) that they were the next generation of hope, and Indonesia needed their knowledge and ability. They had the brains; if they didn't work hard now how could they do so in the future?
"They don't, but can still graduate. Some are very bright, but they have a romantic view of France
"I was advised by colleagues to take things more easily. This is the first time in my life that I've been told I'm working too hard!"
So have you had to lower your standards? "Yes. I expected this, but not so strongly. I appealed to the students to work together with me. That never happened. This has distressed me a lot."
What have you learned? "It is very hard to see things through another culture, but we must try. I know I'll be a better teacher when I go back to France because I'll be able to appreciate how difficult things are for outsiders. I should have done this when I was younger."
What do you miss most apart from family and friends? "Intellectual discussion."
Do you see yourself as a global citizen? "I'm not sure yet. Maybe."
An agent of change? "Ya!"
(First published in The Jakarta Post 13 March 2007)
##
">Link
Labels:
expats,
French in Indonesia,
university education
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