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 Handicapped. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Handicapped. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2015

HANDLESS - NOT HELPLESS

See the person, not the problem      
The test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members. Nobel Prize winner and author Pearl S. Buck.
The World Health Organization estimates about 15 per cent of the global population are disabled.  In Indonesia that translates as 36 million.  Duncan Graham reports on the handicapped helping themselves.



This story could have been about a cripple squatting at an intersection, his self-esteem in the gutter, hoping pitying motorists might cast a coin to ease their conscience.  That’s how many of the disabled survive in Indonesia.
Instead it’s about a dignified artist who has done better than most despite a handicap that would drive lesser people to mope, rage or suicide.
Sadikin Pard was born in Malang, East Java, in October 1966.  He entered the world without arms.  Despite great advances in medical science, the cause of half of all birth defects is unknown.   He was the eighth of nine children.  All the others are normal.
 “Birth control wasn’t popular in those days,” he said. “My parents were traditional people, but exceptional.  Their priority was education. They never treated me with pity.”
Also exemplary is the way they reacted to their son’s disabilities.  Instead of hiding him to deflect neighbor nastiness, for such births were considered a curse for imagined sins, Sadikin went to school.
Aided by his siblings he rapidly learned how to use his feet and mouth to compensate for a lack of arms.  Handless, sure – helpless, not.
Was there discrimination?  There must have been, but Sadikin moves on: “Being handicapped doesn’t mean we’re unintelligent or can’t contribute to society,” he said.  “As they say in the West – see the person, not the problem.”
For many children from poor families an elementary education is enough. The kids have got to get out and work.  Sadikin kept learning. 
Not only could he write and draw, he also mastered chess.  At Muhammadiyah University he studied psychology.  


By now he might have been practising professionally, assuming he could have found an equal opportunity employer. Instead he read a newspaper story that changed his life. 
It was about an European organization offering scholarships to help disabled artists get the security of a regular income.  He applied and was accepted in 1989.

The scholarship provided him with equipment, materials, tuition and a stipend for three years.  His work improved. Eventually he became a member of the Association of Mouth and Foot Painting Artists of the World, internationally better known as VDMFK after the German title.  
Although it has more than 800 artists on its books from 85 countries, only nine are Indonesians. Tiny Singapore has 14.
“I don’t know why this is so,” Sadikin said. “Of course many can’t be artists.  I was lucky.  I always liked to draw and paint. VDMFK isn’t a social organization – it’s commercial.  I send them ten paintings a year. Our work is evaluated and then distributed to publishers for sale, mainly to illustrate calendars and cards.”
At a two-storey house in the Malang suburb of Sawojajar where Sadikin lives with his wife Sutini, 45, and their two teenage sons, workmen are building a studio to ease crowding.  There’s a new car in the yard – all from the proceeds of his work.
The couple have been to European and Asian countries, meeting disabled artists, exchanging ideas and anecdotes, transforming perceived tragedies into positive outcomes. 


Sadikin prefers to use oils and specializes in landscapes, though he’s now branched into social commentary.  Some of his bigger canvasses feature characters from the wayang kulit [shadow puppet] theater in modern urban settings, their batik more money than cloth.
“I’m concerned at the commercialization of society,” he explained. “I want to change Indonesia so people are better educated and smarter. These paintings don’t go abroad.”
VDMFK maintains quality control.  The works it sells are technically competent, the subjects familiar, not confrontational.  Pets, landscapes and seascapes, still life and nature.  One of Sadikin’s most popular international prints featured a Balinese dancer on a calendar cover.
 “If you dream low, you go low,” said Sadikin. “I have many teachers, my wife, nature, and our friends.
“I teach art at an orphanage.  Like it or not we are role models and ambassadors representing the millions who are disabled.
“We have to accept what we have – behind a handicap is a reason. My challenge is to show I’m equal to anyone.”

Being disabled is not a choice
Although the final principle of the nation’s Pancasila philosophy is  Keadilan Sosial bagi seluruh Rakyat Indonesia [social justice for all citizens] this doesn’t always get translated as State care for the disadvantaged and disabled.

“It’s a fine ideal, but there’s a disconnect between the words and what happens in the field,” said rehabilitation specialist Dr Djoko Witjaksono (left)
“Many handicapped children don’t get an education. In Indonesia the disabled are still considered different.  We are behind world standards in providing opportunities for acceptance, training and employment.”
Dr Djoko, who is also on the board of Malang’s Yayasan Pembinaan Anak Cacat [YPAC – Foundation for Educating Disabled Children] said there were only 17 YPACs in the nation.  They were originally established to cater for polio victims, but now handle other impairments.

Cynthia, 9, helps her friend
YPAC student Eka Aprilia, 9,
disabled as a premature baby.

“Most disabled children suffer double handicaps – physical and mental,” he said. “We need at least one YPAC in every regency.  That’s 405.  The leaders of the country should look at what’s happening and respond.  We have the resources. But it’s not just a government issue – families and society also needs to take ownership.”

Indonesian sidewalks show how the disabled are ignored – many are full of holes and hazards. Then there are steep steps into shops and public buildings – public toilets with narrow doors and no rails. How does anyone in a wheel chair or who uses crutches, cope?
Ma Chung University, which does have disabled access to its buildings, joined with other donors to sponsor a seminar to mark YPAC Malang’s 60th anniversary.  

Economic and business lecturer Hallie Sahertian (right) brought four of his students to the event “so they understand the issues in society.”
“Being disabled is not a choice,” he said. “Part of citizenship is having social empathy.  Education doesn’t stop in class – people need to know what’s going on beyond their school and get involved.”

Self help – not charity
If an art work is outstanding should buyers be concerned whether the creator  is a man or women, young or old, able or disabled?
Had Shakespeare written his plays with a quill between his toes would we admire his works  more, or subject them to softer criticism?
VDMFK tackles these ethical issues by reminding members that high artistic standards must be maintained because: ‘In general [critics] do not take into consideration the fact that most works by mouth and foot painters have been created under severe physical restraints and difficulties.’
The VDMFK, which started in 1957, describes itself as a ‘democratic collective’ and a ‘for-profit’ business.  Its motto is Self Help – Not Charity.
Its marketing strategy is to mail unsolicited cards and calendars just before Christmas hoping recipients will buy.  Although some complain this is junk mail and bin the cards, the major threat is the Internet.
Surface mail is rapidly declining; the era of a card in an envelope delivered by a post person will soon be history.  Earlier this year VDMFK urged its members to ‘assert themselves’ in the market to help ‘enlarge our client base’ through exhibitions and workshops.
 (First published in The Jakarta Post 31 May 2015)



Monday, August 13, 2012

SUPPORTING INDONESIA'S DISABLED



Not a back seat person    

                               


When she finishes performing at the London Paralympics in September athlete Ni Nengah Widiasih, 19, will fly to the far side of the world.

The tiny Balinese powerlifter will spend ten days in New Zealand inspiring people with her life story and helping raise money for other disabled Indonesians.

Her trip comes thanks to the energy and initiative of Bill Russell, the chair of the Rehabilim Trust.  This NZ charity supports young, physically handicapped Indonesians learn skills they can use to earn money, and become independent.

“I first met Nengah six years ago.  She’d been crippled by polio and could only move on all fours,” said Mr Russell. The same disease also struck his father shortly after the family moved to NZ from Scotland when Bill was a teenager.

“Nengah went to Yogya for treatment and operations, then took up weightlifting in the 40 kilogram class.  Her achievements have been astonishing.”

The class relates to the athlete’s weight.  At the 2011 ASEAN ParaGames Nengah won gold, lifting 87 kilograms. NZ is sending a team of 26 to the Paralympics, Indonesia only three. 

Helping the disabled in the Republic is a curious turn about for a man whose first knowledge of Indonesians was as enemies in the jungles of Southeast Asia.

In 1963 President Soekarno tried to crush Malaysia claiming it was a creation of the former British colonial power. Commonwealth forces, including NZ soldiers, defended the new nation.

Private Russell was ready.  He’d been in Peninsula Malay since 1961 starting as a 22-year-old professional soldier patrolling the Thai border, stopping communist guerrillas heading south.

“I enjoyed being with the locals,” said Mr Russell.  “I got invited to weddings and other events. I learned a few hundred words of Pasar Malay.  There was a gentleness and politeness.

“I saw people with nothing – a situation I’d never encountered in NZ.  It caused me to think about ways to help.

“Fifty per cent of our troops were Maori.  The Malays were surprised to discover we were multicultural, unconcerned about color and ethnicity.  It helped us relate.” 

Fortunately he never saw Indonesians at the wrong end of his rifle.  When Soekarno sent three aircraft to parachute troops into Johore the young Kiwi was heading the other way on leave.

After three years soldiering he returned home, joined an agricultural supply company, got married and raised a family. He also became involved with Rotary, the volunteer international service club, and still serves in senior roles.

“I’m not a back seat person,” he said.  “My modus operandi is to make a difference.  So many people have helped me and I want to pass that on and leave things better. I’ve learned this is best done through an organization.”

It wasn’t till 1981 that he got back to the tropics – this time to Indonesia – first on holiday, then on business.  Since then he’s made well over 100 visits. 

“I’ve been so lucky and seen so much,” he said. “But I’m not a culture buff.  The more I think I know, the less I realise I know. I started a company selling seeds for horticulture and looked around for a market in Indonesia.

“In those days business was done on the strength of a handshake. A trader in Medan once owed me US $30,000.  I reminded him – he apologized for the oversight and I got a cheque a couple of days later. 

“I still stay in contact with the family.  It’s important to develop personal relationships when doing business in Indonesia. 

“This is a message I push to NZ education institutions trying to recruit Indonesian students: You’ve got to understand your customers and they need to know you – just sending in business cards doesn’t work.”

Next month (September) Mr Russell will be in Bali running a workshop where 20 Indonesian agents will get information on NZ education services from tertiary providers and immigration authorities.

His company, Education Network Indonesia, is a group of universities, polytechnics and schools presenting a common approach.

“We need to taker a fresh look at Indonesia as an education market,” he said.  “In a few years Indonesia will be a major manufacturing economy with a lower cost structure than China.

“There’s going to be a big demand for middle level management skills. This is an area where we can really help.”

While wandering the Archipelago last century the seedsman heard of Colin McLennan, a fellow Kiwi working at the Yakkum rehabilitation center he’d founded in Yogya.

“At the center a young girl wearing callipers was learning to walk using parallel bars,” Mr Russell said.  “Eventually she stepped away and walked by herself.  I saw her smile.  It’s something I’ve never forgotten.”

Impressions are fine, but actions are better.  Back in Wellington and with others (all the Rehabilim Trust’s eight unpaid directors have visited Yakkum) he set out to raise funds from well-wishers, church groups, service clubs and philanthropists around the nation.

Interest earned on money left by Mr McLennan when he died in 2007 can only be used for scholarships; two disabled young Indonesians are now being helped to study tourism and pharmacology. 

Mr Russell has promised that all donations go to Indonesia so he approached Kiwi economist Gareth Morgan who immediately offered NZ $3,000 (Rp 23 million) for Nengah’s air fares. 

In NZ Nengah will be taken to the Halberg Trust formed by former middle-distance runner Sir Murray Halberg, a gold medal winner at the 1960 Rome Olympics. 

The trust’s policy is to ‘honor sporting excellence and link people with a disability to sport and active leisure, whatever their ability and without exception.’

Said Mr Russell:  “I hope Nengah’s visit will boost people’s understanding of Indonesia while showing her that in this country we respect the rights of the handicapped.

“Sport is a major influence in the lives of the disabled in NZ. It would be great for Indonesia if Nengah wins.  Then more attention might be paid by the government to the needs of the handicapped.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 13 August 2012)

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Thursday, April 12, 2007

BHAKTI LUHUR

APPLYING THE 'JAVA SPIRIT' TO HELP THE HANDICAPPED © Duncan Graham 2007

On 30 March in New York Indonesia signed the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities.
This means Indonesia and the other 80 nations who signed, will have to pass legislation to improve disability rights and scrap anything that discriminates against the handicapped. So far only 45 countries have such laws.
What's the current situation in Indonesia? Duncan Graham reports from Malang, East Java:

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When missionary Paul Janssen arrived in Kediri, East Java in 1951 he was shocked by the sight of so many handicapped children.

The 29-year old Catholic priest from the Order of St Vincent de Paul was no freshman from Holland, easily distressed by the squalor of Asia. He'd already served two years in China before being expelled by the communists, then four years in the Philippines.

But the lack of care being given to the disabled in Indonesia struck a new low. "The Dutch had left without doing practically anything," he said. "They had very little contact with the local population. They were just interested in money.

"The priests and chaplains of the Dutch Catholic church were working with businesses and agricultural enterprises like the sugar factories. The handicapped were just lying about in the streets."

There were many other problems. Malaria and a raft of other diseases. Infant mortality was high and many women were dying in labor. The system of puskesmas (community health clinics) had not been introduced. Doctors were few, particularly in rural areas.

Health care was left to those skilled in the use of traditional medicines - and paranormals.

Malaria (though not dengue fever) has now been eradicated from Java, but not the outlying islands. Puskesmas are widespread, though not always well staffed or equipped. Child mortality has tumbled, though still unacceptably high. And paranormals continue to be consulted, even by the well educated.

The maimed and disfigured are still visible in Indonesia, usually begging at traffic lights. But the numbers are small compared to half a century ago, according to Dr Janssen.

Back in the early 1950s he found his calling. It's tempting to write that he got a divine message. However hopes of embroidering this story by reporting a sudden vision were dashed by the pragmatic priest, though he modified his denial by adding: 'Not directly.'

The indirect influences came through the books of French Canadian philosopher Jean Vanier, the founder of L'Arche (the Ark).

This is an international organization that sets up communities where disabled people and their carers can live, work and learn together.

At the time medical authorities in the West believed that institutional care was the best way to handle the handicapped. It was reasoned that in one place they'd get access to top medical attention in controlled surroundings that could be well maintained.

It sounded good, particularly for the doctors, but a couple of essentials were lacking; love and individual care. Dr Janssen noticed that despite the problems and the pain, villagers in Java had "a very intense community spirit." They cared for each other but didn't have the resources.

While in the Philippines he undertook nursing training – along with a doctorate in theology and a masters degree in social psychology. In Java he promoted the philosophy of community based rehabilitation.

This means people have to get the energy, skills and knowledge to improve themselves, not wait for governments to come along and do the job. It also embraces empowerment, getting education and ideas, being able to read and write, believing in the human spirit and the right of the individual to enjoy his or her place in the world.

These ideas don't always appeal to governments, particularly centralised and authoritarian administrations.

The village where Dr Janssen lived was poor, but stable. Rice was cheap and the people survived. But those with handicapped kids were being broken by the huge burden of children who couldn't look after themselves. He proposed a separate house where the children would have continual care – and be educated.

"The parents agreed," he said. "What could they say? Their situation was hopeless. We had about a dozen children in that first home. They didn't care that I was a Catholic – their only concern was that their child would be loved.

"The model we established then is the same as the one we have today and the reverse of the Western institutional system; let us keep disabled children at home as long as possible.

"The love of your neighborhood is greater and more intense than the suffering you will endure through ill health.

"Hospitals are for the sick, but the disabled are not sick. They made big mistakes in Europe, the US and Australia by building institutions. These grand buildings are now empty because they've realized community care is more effective."

To stop this tale from becoming a tome it's necessary to whizz through the next few decades. These included Dr Janssen being shifted to Madiun (in the west of East Java) to develop Catholic tertiary education, a falling out with his superiors who considered his interest in the disabled "a hobby", and a move to Malang in 1959.

This came about when his project was visited by a group of German doctors and journalists who were so impressed by his work that they offered big sums through a charity.

But European laws governing the separation of church and state meant money could not be given to an ecclesiastial organization. So Dr Janssen quit his job and started a secular charity called Bhakti Luhur (supreme service).

Bhakti is a Sanskrit word that has its origins in a Buddhist movement in India during the sixth century. It is also a Hindu devotion. This holds that when love is greater than bad things, then the bad are eliminated.

When challenged that he should be upholding Catholic principles Dr Janssen replied: "Catholicism is very close to Buddhism. In the basic points we are the same.

"We should stop paying attention to the differences and look for the similarities. The problems of pain and suffering are identical, whatever your religion. I also believe in karma."

But weren't there government concerns that another agenda was being run behind the medical and social care, that there was a plot to Christianize the kids? As a Dutchman in post-Revolution Indonesia he must have been hated.

"I have never experienced hate," he said. "I'm not interested in conversion – only care. In my experience the Dutch are not disliked."

But they are soft targets and in the early 1970s Dr Janssen was accused of being a subversive by a minister in the Soeharto government. He was questioned
by the army for a day, then put under city arrest.

However he drove to Surabaya where he had good contacts that led straight to the president through his wife Ibu Tien Soeharto. The allegation was dismissed as a "slip of the tongue" but his community development training had to stop.

"Don't ever expect to be accepted by governments," he told his supporters. "The poor have to be kept poor. The small fish have to be kept small so they can be eaten by the big fish."

With all energies now focussed on the disabled and with support from UNICEF and other overseas agencies, Bhakti Luhur expanded. There are now 75 centers across the archipelago, with more than 40 in Malang which remains the national headquarters. It is said to be Indonesia's largest non-government organization caring for the disabled through community programs.

About 4,000 disabled kids are now getting intensive care and education, usually in small units where the carer-child ratio is about 3 or 4 to one. "But there are at least two million disabled kids across the Republic who aren't getting care," Dr Janssen said.

"They have a right to education in normal schools. Integration, not isolation. They have a right to employment in normal jobs. They're not getting this. That's a big problem.

"But there is now an awareness of the disabled and their needs. This is a beginning."

MARIA'S STORY

Unlike many Western nations where qualified carers for the disabled are hard to find, Indonesia seems to have no shortage of eager workers.

They are trained by Bhakti Luhur for three years and then have to work for a further four.

Maria Yuli, originally from Lampung in South Sumatra, is just finishing her training. All her charges are handicapped – some seriously with terrible birth defects. Many of her colleagues are also disabled, but the confident and pretty 19-year old, has no qualms about her career choice.

While her former schoolfriends are either studying or working, and hanging-out in shopping malls with their handphones, Maria is dealing with the downside of life. Imagine handling a child born without an anus.

In other nations where governments provide free surgery many birth defects could be corrected. A Singapore charity has been sending doctors to help with short-term training, but operations still cost big money.

Most funding now comes from personal donors abroad (mainly Holland) who 'adopt' a child for 250 Euros (Rp 3 million) a year, and are kept up to date on his or her progress by mail and the internet.

"Before I was introduced to this place by a friend I'd never thought of the didsabled," Maria said. "It wasn't an issue I'd ever considered. I knew nothing.

"I was surprised and wanted to know more because there are so many different disabilities. I felt compassion. I wanted to help.

"If I get married I could only look after my family – but here I can help care for so many more children.

"At first I missed the life that my old friends were experiencing, but I adapted quickly. I have my parents' support. I think I have a calling from God."


MAKING AMENDS

Late last year Dr Janssen – an Indonesian citizen for the past 15 years – was awarded a medal by President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. He was given Rp 8 million (US $740) and told to keep doing a good job.

Not so easy when you're 85.

When an interview has gone well most people farewell each other by promising - though not too sincerely - to stay in touch.

But Dr Janssen did not say: "Let's catch up later." On the contrary he's sure we won't meet again.

There are awful secrets under his loose shirt. He's had a heart attack, open heart surgery twice – so many operations that more are iuadvisable. Now he has an enlarged prostate and believes he has colon cancer, but is hesitant about having his diagnosis checked.

He's giving himself maybe three months more. Despite this he stays active between 5 am and 11 am and remains cheerful, preparing a successor.

Early in the interview he said the Dutch left Indonesia "without doing practically anything." That charge won't stick on Paul Janssen.

So we smiled, shook hands a little longer than normal, did a bit of bloke back-slapping bonding, wished each other well and said: Good bye – and thanks.

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(First published in The Jakarta Post 10 April 07.)
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