Putri Exploring the Archipelago

2008-04-09T06:48:00.000-07:00

A GOLDEN DAY

Rays of Young Gold caress my skin softly as I walk out of my apartment, demanding the big black SUV to respect me as a pedestrian and stop for I can cross the street. Fresh still, are the blue sky and out-of-shower effect scented bodies passing me by on the long pedestrian bridge that leads me to the bus stop. In a small box of glass in the middle of the main road am I, sandwiched between traffic towards the business area on one side and the political centre on the other. The bus arrives quickly today and I even have the privilege to be seated. I lean back on the soft cushy seat, close my eyes for a moment, and enjoy the coolth of the air conditioning before I will hit the warmth of the underground bus terminal. Jakarta by morning can be such a blessing.

I reach what once used to be bushy field with plants and wild grass up to a meter high; a green strip along a small river. Immigrants, mostly from all over Java, but also from Northern Sumatra, have come to this wild area to set their base since early 90s. This non-official, thus illegal, neighborhood is yet a settled one today. Kampung Buaran. A girl is pushing the hold of a water pump up and down so that her naked little brother can enjoy a shower of fresh streaming water. When I step out of the van I receive a warm and enthusiastic greeting from the little children. The teachers open the door of the playgroup and the toddlers enter the tiny square classroom, leaving me standing underneath the sun that hits the open and treeless neighborhood strip without mercy. Where are the blows of crispy breezes as usual at? My tanned arms feel no single one at all. Some children, merely dressed in their underwear, are playing cards and others are throwing ceramic tile pieces that are used to fill up the gaps in the street to each other. But the porches are empty and even the eager men and women of the gambling club are inactive today: everyone is sheltering for shade behind cloth sheets hanging outside the doors. The rainy season is coming to its end, so it is getting hot. Hotter and hotter. I feel sweat drops pouring out of my pores, running over the skin of my back, and I freeze. Another move means another flow of sticky smelling liquid underneath my clothes. I cannot anymore... The heat weakens my body.

A very long, unbearable hot, and incredible hard-working day is at its closing stage. Old Gold laughs at the Black Sea of vehicles honking their way home, and strikes its last bits and bites of light over the newspaper vendor passing through the labyrinth of the traffic jam. He holds today’s headline of another criminal convict up high, showing very explicit images of the till-death beaten persecutor next to a picture of the hottest celebrity’s new lover. Somewhere behind the clouds of emission, the sound of the adzan from a nearby mosque echoes, announcing it is time to pray.

Darkness brings along calmness, but in Jakarta it will never reach full serenity. In this never-sleeping metropolitan I am deprived of the sight of celestial bodies that passionate me most. I gaze at my screen, as if I am waiting for another source of inspiration. The moment I lit up my sigarette a big thunder clashes somewhere afar. Another one. And another one. The vivid sound of the cosmic battle covers the noisy noises of the never-pausing neighboring constructions work. The expressive thunder lightning enables me to see the green leaves of the trees outside my bedroom window. The gloomy sky pictures a show of sparkling light shocks, flashier than any fully-booked photo studio. Rain drops start falling. Heavily. And stormy. I think of my informant who lives on a cemetery. “On a kind day like this it’s very lovely to sit on this graveyard underneath these big trees and watch them children play around. But when the rainy season hits, this place will turn into one big mud pool.”

After the Culture Shock

2008-03-03T09:49:00.000-08:00

‘KILL MY EGO? NO WAY BITCH!’

I have passed the first phase of my research journey, although I occasionally face cultural aspects that still cause me a great shock. But more important is that I start to see positive things in whatever I perceive(d) negative.

[Graffiti painting at Semanggi]

There is no politer way to say it: social make up is just a mess. There is a great lack of discipline, people are egocentric and careless, and I feel no respect. I try to hold on to my principles and stand in line at the bus stop and not push the crowd of people (‘the queue’) once the bus arrives, but others think differently. Life in Jakarta is very tough, and if you want to survive the struggle you have to be aggressive to become the fittest. Public rules can be ignored in this urban jungle and social concerns come way after egocentric needs, so who cares about queues, or possible accidents to happen, when more important is for one to get on the bus and get a seat? As the title says: ego comes first. I picked it from a graffiti painting that has a shout out next to it saying: "Don't gain the world and lose your soul".

[The traffic, the flood, and the pedestrian]

This generalized thought counts for both the upper as the lower class, but the latter surely has to work even harder. When perceiving this from a different sight, my friend Erwin was right by commenting they have a working mentality of great determination and full spirit, all in order to survive in this hot urban jungle. I never really enjoyed tropical climates, especially ones that are fused with urban pollution. I find the sweat unbearable and the high temperature tiring, so that is another aspect for which I give respect to the lower working class: I could not have last a full day selling fried rice from a tiny market stand with no running water at a bus terminal among dozens other shouting vendors and numerous vehicles of all sizes passing by continuously leaving nothing but aggressive driving styles, stressful haste, noise pollution, and clouds of both visible as invisible dirt underneath the striking sun.

[Great slim body and beautifully designed apartment complex next to the green]

GLOBAL WARMING

Surprising yet is that during this stay, I hardly ever experience that humidity from the heat blanket covering the city anymore. It is either pleasantly warm or windy warm. Believe it or not: I sometimes, both during day and night time, find it even chilly! Perhaps agreements of the Climate Top last January in Bali were extremely quickly implemented, or this is instead another effect of global warming. The global warming issue is reaching the people here, but is still very much in process. Last week for example, a political and environmental conscious radio station celebrated her anniversary and changed the name into Green Radio: ‘The Eco-lifestyle of Jakarta’. But the public party was not provided with garbage bins, so that plates and leftovers from the free dinner were collected randomly all over the green garden.

[The green trees and the urban-polluted river]

THE GREEN CITY OF BANDUNG

There is still a long way to go, but at least Jakarta has become much more greener. But to enjoy some real nature, Jakarta people drive two hours westward to spend the weekend in Bandung. After Amsterdam and Jakarta, Bandung is my third hometown. My grandpa has passed away a while ago and the family house just recently got sold, but this third or fourth largest city of the country that is surrounded by mountains, and has therefore a much colder temperature, still feels like a nostalgic home to me. I always receive a sincerely warm welcome from this green city where taking walks through the very nice, shadowed by the large trees streets are still very possible.

[In Lembang, on the edge of Bandung]

[With Aldi and Ance, my friends from Amsterdam]

New in Bandung is ‘Paris van Java’. Do not mind the choice of words: Indonesians are always very consequent in (multiple) language issues. It is a semi-open complex of mainly restaurants and cafes, but of course also has a little mall attached and not to forget the cinema. It is similar to Citos in Jakarta, but the U-construction and ambiance of Paris van java (PvJ) is much nicer. My cousin is now the manager of The Mansion that is located on the second and third floor: Bandung’s newest and hottest clubbing scene with a beautiful view over the city and the mountains.

[At the rooftop of the Mansion Club]

[Our living room]

HAPPY 23

For my 23rd birthday I held a little gathering with some of my best friends at my place. At the end of the deck we held a picnic by night in what Indonesians call pegola, which is something in between a terrace, a porch, and a wall-less cottage. Unfortunately it rained quite a bit, but at least we had a roof, a beautiful city skyline by night, food, drinks, and fun. When it was midnight and I turned out not to have a permission for this party, we were sent home, where we continued a game in my room, that allowed drawing on the other’s face as a punishment…

[In the pegola, telling jokes]

[Playing the whisper-game]

[With my dear Keke ]

[My room]

[Our beautifully decorated faces]

RESEARCH UPDATE

After try-outs on the field and a first month of orientation I have built up a considerable amount of trust and relationships in two districts. Kampung Buaran, the first neighborhood is quite far (Klender, Cipinang), and consists actually of one very long unpaved, rocky and muddy road, located along and partly above a dirty river. Most houses are made of wood and random pieces from different materials, and the people make use of public toilets. Twice a week I go there with the Mother & Child Health Foundation Indonesia, and while the two teachers give free playgroup classes, I hit the field.

[Kampung Buaran]

My second research field, Menteng Atas, is right next door, and I often walk there outside research purposes to have lunch, so that I have become quite familiar with some inhabitants. The area is big and at first does not appear very poor at all: on the outer part there are even a few very beautiful gated houses with cars, but the inner part consist of small and narrow streets, or actually passages. Everything looks very nice and very green though, and perfectly function as a walking area, but motor bicycles still insist to pass through it. Most of the area can be considered a lower/middle class neighborhood, but what physically emphasizes their mental self-conception of a lower class is the concrete and barbed wired wall that totally surrounds the apartment complex and therefore literally separates and highlights the social boundaries. What is more is that there used to be a huge cemetery in the given district, that for the most part has been dug out and moved already, but some of the really lower classes have settled themselves on the old cemetery, literally above very old grave yards-leftovers.

[The passages of Menteng Atas]

Three days after my arrival it became clear already that the tension area between play and work does not account for my research population of lower classes. Among the extremely poor, those living on the streets and sleeping under bridges, it might. But what I perceive instead is a tension between play and learning. The main objective of kindergartens no longer seems to be a place where children learn to play and play to learn. Instead, children of age four and five learn to read, write, and do maths: all to prepare them for elementary school where they are expected to understand, or at least be aware of, this basic knowledge.
There are some other fascinating aspects I observed in the field, but I need to keep focused. It is hard for me, but luckily I have a fellow anthropologist nearby, my friend Fauzi. He is also a student from Utrecht University and in Jakarta for his research, yet for his Master-degree. We meet each other on the regular to discuss and evaluate our findings (his research is on Dutch ex-pats): it helps, enlightens, and encourages us.

THE BLUE TENT

Unfortunately, the blue tent that took the center of my bedroom window view did not last long and has vanished for some weeks already. Instead, they now often burn up, probably, small amounts of garbage that, especially when raining, draws spectacular sceneries. Also, have they dug up some big holes at the spot the blue tent used to be… As I have discovered that other towers of the apartment complex have a view on the cemetery leftovers that are used today as a garbage dump, I greatly thank the fresh trees, plain green field, and older typical Indonesian houses to picture my bedroom window with such a simple but natural ambiance.

Reliving the Culture Shock

2008-02-08T22:59:00.000-08:00

[The drainage system in the slum parts of the city center]

A WARM WELCOME

I have reached the Eastern equator during the rainy season: a traditional disastrous period for the apparently modern, but in fact extremely poor metropolitan of Jakarta. Java is the most populated island in the world, and its capital city is unimaginable overcrowded, overbuild, and polluted, making it for both the land as its inhabitants hard to breath. Today’s technological advances and developed reason should offer a solution to cope with this modern dilemma, but it somehow does not seem to reach the Indonesian government. There is no way of escape or absorbance once the rain pours down the city. The drainage system horribly sucks. Or actually it does not, it is just horrible.
Annual floods have now reach the freeway to the airport up to a meter high. The airport can thus only be reached via a regular route, a traverse unsuitable for the mass of traffic that daily travel from and to the international airport. My plane landed at 3.30pm, but I did not reach my place until 8pm. The traffic jam of three and a half hours is not that remarkable in a city where each member of a rich households usually has an own cars because it refuses to take the public transportation that indeed is not very neat. But it surely is a bad matter, and caused me an acute despair upon arrivel. Unfortunately, I have not been very much optimistic since.

THE CELEBRATION OF MULTI-CULTURALISM

My trip started very blessed though. At Heathrow airport, I discovered a ‘multi-faith prayer room’, which turned out to be located in other terminals too and for a considerable period of time already. It was a small, not very much inspiring room, but equiped with the essentials of different holy books, seats, and sajadahs, the Islamic prayer carpets, allowing me to do my midday prayer, coincidently a Friday one. I cannot remember Schiphol offering a space that raises awareness and encouragement for some spiritual and personal time at a place of work and travel. In this realm of ultimate haste and stress, expressing the relationship between life, faith, and God seems unlikely, but is yet possible. Above all, I find the ‘multi-faith prayer room’ very positive because it acknowedges cultural and religious diversity and urges understanding for this. Ironic, how Amsterdam as well is one of the world’s most multi-cultural city, but has not celebrated this fact with initiatives of the alike.

[An affiche inside the multi-faith prayer room]

[With Torik before he headed home to Amsterdam]

EXPLORING CHILD RIGHTS

As I of course wish to see all of my family and dear friends after two and a half year, I also want to make the best out of this research. As some of you might know, I have been very nervous about this long-intended project. For a long while I have been fascinated with early child development and its link to the condition of this world in the era of Globalia. In fact, I started my study of Anthropology because of my great urge to figure more about it. During my last stay in Jakarta, I have been involved with several projects with children, play groups and pre-schools, conducting a sort of a ‘pre-study’ on my area of interest, convinced that I would return any time soon to continue it more specifically. And here I am. My research is basically on the perception of mainly lower-class urban families on the universal child’s right to play, but there is actually so much more behind it. It is not as easy to explain, nor to conduct, and I have been worried that I will not be able to express myself clearly in my mother tongue. Clearly, one of my informants (a man from the lower class I interviewed) noticed it immediately, when he expressed his doubts on my Indonesian origins: “But you speak really funny”.

[A girl holding her doll in one of the slum areas]

CELEBRATING THE CHINESE NEW YEAR

[One of the Vihara's]

The original concentration of Chinese-Indonesians lies in the old quarter of the city center of Jakarta, where the streets are fully embellished with red lampoons and other decorations. Gong Xi Fa Chai, or happy new year, it is the Chinese year 2559. Chinese-Indonesians dedicate prayers to various deities on big altars in the temple (Vihara) where giant red candles celebrate the year of the Rat. The candles and camp fires heat up the crowded semi-open area, but what is really suffocating is the immensity of smoke out of the bulks of insences the mass of believers are suppose to devote to their gods. There is one main deity, the Almighty, of which the emic term is Tikang. In daily use it is Tuhan Allah, wherein Tuhan means God, and Allah, well, also means God.

[Among the huge candles in the Vihara]

[Praying Confusion Chinese-Indonesian, holding bulks of incenses]

Remarkable are the ‘outsiders’: some tourists, but mostly young amateur, yet very commited photographers. With very advanced photography equipment, this distinctive group of students seeks to capture beautiful shots of praying Chinese-Indonesians inside the gracious temple, and of the even greater proportion of the literal outsiders, namely the mass of poor people assembling behind the gate.

[Young photographer on the right, waiting poor behind the gate]

Like in Islam, and probably most religious traditions, the Chinese also knows the way of celebrating a festive by sharing one’s wealth with the less fortunate. The poor thus waited for envelopes with money (angpao) to be handed out. But the prayers happen individually, and I witnessed no single angpao being hand over during my observation. Then again, how do you distribute a symbolic amount of money over the mass of people that have settled down outside on the semi paved/mud square in await for somewhat more than a fortune cookie? The ambiance on the square was tensed and harassing, and the young photographers sitting outside the temple, though claiming merely to relax, waited as well for this one messiah-like person to step out of the temple and throw bags of money over the poor. My father was optimistic and praised the fact that great improvements have occurred since the fall of president Soeharto a decennia ago. Now, Confucionism is a national recognized religion, so that Gong Xi Fa Chai has become a national holiday and can be publicly celebrated. I wish I could see something positive in everything I can only critique about.

[Waiting for some angpao]

[Being photographed, while playing and waiting in the mud]

LIVING THE BEARABLE, DEALING WITH THE UNBEARABLE

[Just as home in Amsterdam: near breathtaking canals]

You pass through three security points of guards, but after that you are welcome to my new residence in Tower 17 of the Taman Rasuna Apartment Complex. I can take you to the fifth floor, to a platform above the parking lot, that connects the multiple towers of the complex. On this deck we can play basketball, or soccer. There is also a tennis court if you prefer. Or we can swim in the beautiful swimming pool and have a drink afterwards at the Dixie Lounge Restaurant. Meanwhile the kids can play at the two big play grounds. Enjoy the variety of cultures you will walk into: many Indian, Arab and White expats inhabit the complex. There is a laundry service, a beauty salon, a food delivery service, and many more little shops to serve the Taman Rasuna residents.

[The swimming pool on the deck]

[My cousins at the play ground on the deck]

It is a good fortune my father temporarily lives in Jakarta for his work now, and his old friend offered him this apparetment, so I have not many worries concerning my living conditions. I enjoy my new room, spacious and airconditioned, with my own walk-in closet, and my own bathroom with a bathtub. Life can be good. But what about that of the maid who was suppose to live also in our appartment of hardly 80 squared meter. From the kitchen there is a door that leads to a space that precisely fits a one-person matras, which can be folded during the day so you can reach the boiler. Immediately next to the matrass there is the ‘traditional’ squatting toilet (assuming the maid is too rural to use the ‘modern’ sitting toilet), surrounded by three walls but no door.

[Tower 17, my new residence]

I find it hard to believe how people dare to violate the human dignity by designing such inhumane interiors. My father luckily already closed the toilet off so we can use the space as a storage room. Frightening it is to be reminded of the many households in the appartments who, despite of the relatively small space still need a maid to take care of the daily house chores, and probably do make use of that tiny space as a bedroom. Scary too is the question of what happened to the poor people who used to inhabit the land before it was cleared to build this complex.

[The view from my room]

The right part of my big bedroom window offers me, unfortunately, a sight of the parking lot because we only live on the third floor. But this also means that I have the trees still near me. From my desk table I enjoy the left part of the window that depicts a big green field, and some urban outlines of skyscrapers, constructions, and a mosque. In the middle of the green there is a blue tent, and sometimes I see groups of children playing on the field. I wonder how long the tent will survive before that field as well will be transformed into a chunk of concrete. The super deluxe apartments (way more fancier than my relatively old one) that mushroom all over the city drive off the poor into smaller and even more devastated areas, and literally emphasizes the social hierarchy of Jakarta. I have experienced no city in the world that is so cruel to its lower-class citizens. The city, and the whole country in general, is build and designed to serve the upper class, the fittest of the battle. But in this urban jungle the poor make up the majority, therefore they survive too, somehow. One nation, two worlds. It frustrates me, it saddens me, and it makes me hate the country of which I once used to be so proud of.

[Constructions next to my apartment]

2007-07-05T10:17:00.000-07:00

Salt Lake City

2007-06-15T00:18:00.000-07:00

Instead of the common panoramic view of mountain landscapes, we woke up in the train from Denver to Salt Lake City, realizing we were riding on the actual Rocky Mountains, and having an outlook from uphigh on the lowlands.

[Couchsurfing]

The three days spent in the quite big, but seemingly smaller town-like Salt Lake City was a wonderful reminiscence of Burlington to me. Our outdoor-spirited couchsurfhost Eddy, a freshly graduated from the University of Utah, lived in the campus district with four more roommates in a house with a porch, in the same street the only Hybrid card driving Democrat mayor in a Republican-oriented state resides. Our agenda was fully booked with hanging on the roof top, attending a bluegrass concert, visiting a typical open houseparty, climbing a cliff at a river, and hiking by night to observe the city under the full moon.

[SLC-view by night from Ensign Park]

[Climbing...]

[...and then chilling]

An amazing concept found in SLC is the One World restaurant that aspires reducing food waste by having the customers decide themselves how much they want from a certain dish and allow them to have more anytime. Depending on the available ingredients that are authentic organic and from the actual back garden, the menu differs daily or even by the hour. But the most remarkable aspect is that the customers decide themselves how much the dish was worth to pay. On top of that, the cook was a graduated student from UVM!

[One World Restaurant]

The Mormons, officially named The Church of Jesus Christ the Latter-day Saints, have originally established themselves, and are therefore concentrated, in Utah. In the literal center of the city on Zero Street is the Mormon bussiness district and the virgin white Temple, which is exclusive to the Mormons, where on that day sixteen marriages took place. At the museum-like visitor’s center the ‘sisters’ from all over the world who were on their optional 18 months mission (for the early twenty males it is mandatory) explained us about their Christian derived religion, intentionally to convert people. It’s an amazingly interesting and wealthy community and we were really fascinated by it. Their common present does give the city a somewhat different, not necessarily bad, ambiance; strange enough an affluently moderate one.

[Mormon Center]

[Just married Mormon couple]

[University of Utah]

[Golf Course on campus]

[Life's better on the couch in the front yard]

[Last-minute bbq]

[I manage to eat this burger without messing it up too much...]

[Life's better ON the porch!!!]

[Supporting Eddy's soccer game]

[Life's better when sneaking out]

[Life's better on the rooftop!]

[Doing laundry in the back yard]

[Juggling on a parking lot]

Denver

2007-06-11T00:37:00.001-07:00

[Our Couchsurf hosts]

Denver looked pretty on the map, but we knew nothing about the place and that left us speechless on 16th Mall Street, seemingly the main and only shopping street in the city, but wonderfully provided with free wifi. When checking our email, literally in the middle of the street, we found a couchsurf host who was willing to have us. Two hours later we got picked up by Lauren and her boyfriend Mark, who live in a neat appartment complex outside the city center, with a third roommate Dave.

[16th Street with free wifi]

During their coincidentally two days off, the couple took us to amazing places. The high altitude of Denver is not very notable, but it did cause me ill-making side effects, and by reaching the almost 4000m high Pikes Peak, in the 1,5 hours away Colorado Springs ski resort, it didn’t get any better. I experienced a hitherto unknown pain and a strike of lightness in my head, but luckily didn’t faint. Still it was a breathtaking experience to drive up the curvy paved and dusty road, through the clouds, passing avalanches and beautiful rocks on the snowy summit.

[Pikes Peak]

In the national park of the Garden of the Gods the vast red rocks were familiar to us from the ususal themed attraction parks, therefore it was hard for us to grasp that the actual rocks were not fake at all.

[Garden of the Gods]

]

[That's the summit of 4000 meter!]

[Lauren's complex]

[Couchsurfing]

Chicago

2007-06-11T00:18:00.000-07:00

The full train to Sacramento, California, compelled us to bound eastward, taking the same route from St. Paul, Minnesota, passing by the same Glacier National Park up in Montana, this time astonishing cold, fully white covered and lightly snowing, to arrive two days later in Chicago, Illinois. It was the dulliest yet most exciting daytrip since it was my second visit to Chicago, unplanned, and no host available to have us. After storing our luggage in the locker we firstly randomly picked the Ritz Carlton Hotel, to nervously visit the Spa & Sauna, and having the lady behind the counter surprisingly welcoming us to enter as if we were actual hotel guests, so we could finally enjoy a refreshing hot shower. We left the place thankfully, full adrenalin, and in big laughter.

[The Ritz Carlton Spa facilities]

The next highlight was to finally arrive at our holy White Castle, three years after having seen the Harold & Kumar-movie. Walking twenty thousand blocks was rewarded with dozens of White Castle mini-burgers, stilling our cravings.

[White Castle!!!]

Luckily, the Saturday night crowd, all with their private rental Hummer limos, accompanied us wondering through the night. It started raining when we arrived at Union Station, but since that was closed until 5am, we had to wait, half asleep sitting on a ramp, slightly protected from the wind and drizzle.

[Downtown pollution]

[From Hancock Tower]

Portland

2007-06-11T00:10:00.001-07:00

[With Herna & Mel]

On top of one of the highest hills, the brainpowers of Portland built a brand new ultra modern hospital, which is reacheable through the crooked ways up or by the cable capsule that elevates you like a ski resort’s gondola. Amazing views though, I just guess that counts more. Despite the big major buildings, remarkable modern architecture, great shopping areas, Chinatown, high ways incorporated into the city, and well functioning electric runned public transport -even trams, that Portland comprises, the suggestion of the big city life in fact feels like a small entrusted town. The prevalent greenness what it is known for might be a contribution to the familiarity.

[Train Station]

Because our couchsurf host in Portland turned us down at the very last minute, and the only two hostels were fully booked, we were forced to crash the street until a friend of mine, Herna, who initially was not able to have us, finally offered us her own bed, where we slept the night, safe and sound.

[From the hospital]

SEATTLE

2007-06-10T21:25:00.000-07:00

[Madrona neighborhood]

[Couchsurf house]

[Houseparty]

[Rap battle]

[With Mel's friend Henning]

[With our 1st Couchsurf host Ix-Chel & Bill]

['Couchsurfing']

St. Paul

2007-06-03T22:49:00.000-07:00

I stayed in the breathtaking green mountain sceneries for the weekend
at my room mate Sarah’s hometown called Fairlee,
not too far from Burlington (where really everybody knows each other)
but then left on Monday afternoon to travel in packed Greyhound coach buses to arrive in St. Paul, Minnesota, two days later.
In between Vermont and the Midwest:
Boston, NYC, Pittsburg, Chicago and many more smaller cities,
where they allowed us to get off and do some healthy stretching after being painfully stuck in the way too small seats (for American standards).
But traveling through the US by bus is a great adventure itself.
I’ve seen so many different sceneries already,
and shared the bus with the craziest and most diverse mix of people ever.
At one point the bus stop included a praying Orthodox Jew, an Arabic veiled Muslim with her in red-dyed-hair daughter, and a whole family of Amish people!
Yes, I wonder too why they made use of this modern thing called a coach bus.

MALL OF AMERICA
Most interesting aspect of the Twin Cities of St. Paul and Minneapolis in Minnesota, I thought would be was the Mall of America (MOA), located in the suburbs and supposedly the biggest mall in the US. Some other mall in the South is currently holding that name though, and therefore MOA will expand within the next three years adding an indoor waterpark (where surfing will be possible), a hotel, clubs and a theather perhaps also a casino, to of course take back the name, and also feed the culture of consumption and perpetuate the motor of capitalism. It’s horrible and I wasn’t even that impressed after having experienced the mall-culture in Southeast Asia, although I must admit they did a good job in resembling a real attraction park in the middle of the mall, by adding trees and little rivers for the more viable outdoor ambiance.

ANTHROPOLOGISTS
I stayed at my father’s friend who lives in the campus district of Hamline College. She and her husband are both Anthropology professors at this university, respectively specialized in linguistic anthro/the Toraja in Indonesia, and South India, so of course many interesting topics of conversation would arise.
If I wouldn’t have arrived by bus, it would be quite a shock again to come from the homogenous Vermont to the region of St. Paul/Minneapolis, which has a remarkable amount of Mong people from Laos and Thailand, and veiled women from Ethiopia.
I felt like the Twin Cities are situated in (former) industrial areas, and the blooming new and modern buildings are in charege of changing this scenery. It’s a unique interaction of old factories and contemporary architecture that reminded me of the fancy Meat District in NYC. Downtown Minneapolis which wasn’t much more than one modest shopping street, I also ran into a group of African Americans Christians, wearing white robes with red David stars, because they’re Jews –not Jewish, preaching Jesus was a Black man.

AMERICAN COLLEGE GRADUATION
The ceremony of a graduation is as boring (especially if you don’t know any of the graduates) as everyone predicted it would be, but I am very glad I’ve seen it. Everything was very formal and up tight, and serious musical tones were produced from the orchestra. After applausing the march in of the faculties (who wear distinctive colored robes) and the graduates (plain black robes), and several speeches by the president and other prominent people (a female bisshop started and ended the ceremony!), the actual graduation was a whole list of names, coming to the stage, to receive the diploma, have a picture taken, and shaking hands with the dean. The ‘audience’ would only applause if it’d concern their own graduate, so depending on how many fans were present, a graduate would receive just some clapping or great recognition. The small chance of rain forecast, was enough reason to move the graduation inside, which was very unfortunate, and maybe a reason why the graduates did not traditionally threw off their barrets.

VIVA AMTRAK
Traveling by train is such a relief after having experienced two days on a bus! So spacious, so comfertable, and so well arranged. Because this trail was from the Midwest to the West coast, this train had a lounge car, which was like an observation deck with dome-shaped windows for people to sit and enjoy the beautiful views. On the train were also national park guides who had a stand with Native Americans’ crafts, providing information and announcing historical background info through the speakers about the places we passed by. with less diverse people (mostly elderly), and better service, traveling by train is not as much of a challenge, but still a great adventure!

SCENERIES
North Dakota is like the enlarged version of the Dutch landscapes, but slowly the prairies will change into curved green scapes. Montana was quite boring like this for a while, untill I saw a very odd scene of fresh green land with behind it dark, almost black, mountains, with white stripes swirling down. This turned out to be the Glacier National Park in the Northeast of Montana. We rode along it and that allowed us to be very close to, and basically in, the gorgeous and diverse setting of nature.

Burlington, oh Burlington...

2007-05-24T14:08:00.000-07:00

MY FAREWELL NOTE

Located in the only US state which capital city has no McDonald’s,
and only one-and-a-half-hour car ride away from Montreal
(but I still didn’t get there, but passed the Southern border instead),
surrounded with green or white mountain sceneries,
furnished with adorable New England-style houses,
the land of granoli’s and crunchies,
and therefore
my eighth choice on my list to study abroad,
UVM’s status that turned into a dry one upon my arrival,
and RA’s who'd thus interrupt our international parties in D-Low,
in L/L, where there’s always free food or something going on,
where I developed my strength to cycle uphill,
where kids roll out of their bed to get to class in sweat pants,
and everyone wears Crocks or flip-flops no matter what temperature,
where people are incredibly devoted for a good cause,
where a vegan meal is an option at the dining hall,
and a vegetarian potluck is a weekly event
(and I still regrettably didn’t join as often as I wanted to),
because there’s probably no other place in the US where it can get more organic, local, fair, and environmentally-oriented,
the home of genuine art works and inspiring artists and musicians,
who throw awesome parties,
where everybody meets everybody,
because everybody knows everybody,
and its homogeneous nature
–which was probably my greatest challenge, but still:

My temporary home,
full of
life lessons,
ups and downs,
and astonishing intersections.

And by the time this UVM-experience had come to an end,
and I slowly needed to start saying goodbye,
novel friendships emerged
that on the last minute
showed me the literal and figurative other side of Burlington.

My best friends,
my hang out folks,
acquaintances who’d I run in to on a regular basis,
or strangers-I-know-but-don’t-really-know
and would continuously randomly pass by;
they’ve all been part of my UVM-experience,
which has been great, diverse, and enriching.
So, leaving this cute little town was harder than I expected it to be
and I a tough and tensed time concentrating on my finals and packing my stuff, and being sentimental, enjoying the last bits of Burlington and saying goodbye to people.

A BRIEF REVIEW ON THE LAST MONTHS

HUNGER STRIKE
Since my suite mate Kath is a member of SLAP, I’ve been directly involved with their actions for livable wages for the UVM-workers. After their cry for attention by camping out on the University’s green for a few days and nights (Tent City), they took a more extreme decision to make our school’s president realize about the workers’ poor wages. The hunger strike was done by twelf members, wearing a white band that indicated their full participation, with the tent where they’d sleep during the nights, in front of the Waterman building where the president’s office is located. They only drank water and juice, which was abundantly donated by supporters. They received a lot of attention from the media, and at the fifth day a rally took place, followed by a march, or storm in to the president’s office who closed themselves in. Later that afternoon SLAP faced a less rebelious meeting with the president, wherein they succeeded to come to a more than promising compromise. They symbolically broke their fasting with dry bread.

It was an intense and emotional period having our suitemate being involved in this action, and this is just one, though extreme, among the many more, that shows how devoted Vermonters can be for a good cause. I am amazingly impressed, and therefore couldn’t stand confronting the three guys who purposely sat in front of the strikers unpacking and enjoying their lunch, claiming that “it’s America, and they’re free to eat wherever and whenever they want”.

FRAT PARTY
In the last weeks of school, the Alpha Gamma Rho fraternity held a toga party, and if it wasn’t for my friend Kate who’s dating a frat brother, I would probably not have experienced seeing a fraternity house inside out. The party took place in the spaceous ‘attic’, but we also uncovered an insider’s look of the quite old and classic house, which is bourgeois furnitured, and very labyrinthine, and therefore sketchy to me.

NAKED BIKE RIDE
The infamous tradition of UVM, took place again after the last day of classes at midnight, and this time even some internationals partook in the run of nudity! Sometimes people will decorate themselves in paint, masks, or other accessories (creative or embarrassed?). What I still like most of it is the aftermath in meeting people and hanging out, this time with people dancing on the drums under the full moon.

ASIAN AND PASIFIC ISLANDERS MONTH
While previous months had focused on different topics, the month of May was dedicated to UVM’s students from Asian and Pasific Island descent. Other than the sushi workshop and Asian party, I attended the Asian potluck, a dinner that consist of the different dishes people bring, which turned out to be a very small gathering of people I mostly never have seen before. It was cozy and fun, and it symbolically represents this minority group at UVM (less then 1%).

SPRINGFEST
This year’s big act at UVM’s annual Springfest, which is free for UVM-students, while $30 for others, was Ziggy Marley! The bad thing was that due to the grey weather, the concert was held inside our gym, which of course twists the whole concept of a Springfest. It was awesome anyway, and there was free root beer and flavored ice.

DEBATE TEAM BANQUET
At the end of a school year most recognized associations and clubs will have their final banquet, which is basically a formal (here, Sodexho prepared) dinner with the even more formal speeches. Having joined one debate tournament was enough for me to be part of the debate team banquet, which is free for its members, but $20 for guests. Many, especially seniors, took their parents, siblings and/or partners. The speeches were very sentimental and dramatic, because for many (devoted) seniors, the debate team has functioned like some kind of family; the debate team is pretty intense, in every way. Luckily, someone held an informal afterparty at his house, which basically wasn’t more than a beer keg and big table to play beirout, the traditional beer game, on.

BIN SHOPPING
It’s crazy to see what students get rid of at the end of an academic year. Big furniture are left at specific spots on campus, and every building of every dorm is provided with three huge bins for perishable food, household utilities, and clothes. Everything will be donated to the Salvation Army and other charities, so it’s not totally wasted, but the untouched cans, bags, and unwrapped boxes full of instant food indicate that people really call for food storage, which obviously shows not needed in the end. And most of the materials are still in perfect shape, but I guess people like to start the next year all fresh and clean. The fact that I also could not find any cobbler to repair my boots is to me a sign of a mentalityof disposability. A ‘good’ thing is that I expanded my closet, or suitecase, during my personal Queens Day rummage sale on Apil 29, where I got a pile of great clothes for $3, and through random skimmings into the bins, also known as ‘bin shopping’.

BIKE RIDES
Left aside during winter, I could finally enjoy my all-rusty bike again when spring emerged. A good friend of mine took me for a last minute sight seeing bike tour to the other side of Burlington, which was great, and I regret I couldn’t enjoy the more beautiful bike paths Burlington has to offer.
Apart from the few bike fanatics, equiped with the correct gear and bike helmet, most American still can’t see the bike as a main vehicle. One hilarious scene was when Eva and I got a ride back home uphill from a party downtown, on a bike! Nothing special to me to be carried on the bike’s backseat, but extraordinary in the eyes of Americans. We received many funny looks and honks from cars and buses!

DWELLERS OF BURLINGTON
When being a student and living on campus in the States, you tend to forget you’re actually living in a bubble of relatively wealthy folks or at least in a community not everybody is able to be part of. Therefore I’ve been meaning to do some volunteer work at some organization or center before leaving Burlington. Through my acquaintance Rachel who became a good friend, I got involved with Burlington’s Food Shelf that’s inirially set up by a UVM student many years ago. On a weekly basis UVM cooperates with various known (local) restaurants that donate their food at the Food Shelf. I volunteered, unfortunately only once though, but it was good to see and be aware of the different face of the commonly prosperous Burlington area. Among the homeless people who come to have dinner, there are also workers who just do nohave a hard time to make both ends meet.

Springbreak in Mexico

2007-04-18T07:08:00.000-07:00

I’ve learned that going on a trip with somewhat random people is exhausting, but I gave into it again. Bigger deal now: more people and father destination!

After 24 hours of non-stop traveling from Burlington driving to Newark airport, New Jersey, having a transit in Atlanta, Georgia, and taking the subway, cab and finally the bus from Mexico City, Alberto, Noemie and I finally arrived in Guadalajara at Emilio’s place, where we reunited with the other four with whom we split up in Newark. Exhausting, but happy (Christine in specific because she’s Emilio’s girlfriend, but still among us in the States), to be received by our ex-fellow exchange student from last semester, and his family with open arms and have a large and amazing Mexican breakfast at arrival.

GUADALAJARA
In the one day I had to explore the second city of Mexico, I’ve seen quite a lot. Riding a carriage through the old part of the city, which reminded me of Kota-area in Jakarta, and watching mariachi’s, the known Mexican musicians; even ‘to-go’ as they offer their musical talents along the streets as if they were hitchhiking. Usually they’re picked up for couples that need to reconcile, and they’re not cheap! It’s a cute, modest city, and I loved how the people, families and couples, gather in the many squares with beautiful old buildings the city has.

[Mariachi's-to-go]

Emilio’s house is located in a complex that has an excellent agreement with its natural environment, in order to maintain the green and therefore enjoy fresh air and a breathtaking view. Being in this mount-like surrounding rang bells of my time staying at my friend’s in Bogor, West-Java. I would say that Guadalajara is comparable with Bandung, and maybe even less ‘condense’. Yes, a lot reminded me of Indonesia.

[Emilio's house]

PUERTO VALLARTA

After Anca and Maja arrived later on the first day, we were finally complete and our group of ten (!!!) was ready to leave for Puerto Vallarta, the next morning.

Due to a special arrangement we had a ridiculous deal with a nice hotel on the coast: US$200 for five days, including the four hours bus ride from Guadalajara, and all-inclusive food and drinks during the stay. In other words: three proper meals a day, all-you-can-order served snacks and food when on the beach, and all-you-can-drink, including the alcoholic ones. Simply ridiculous.

Puerto Vallarta: just another beach resort. Like Australians would hop to Bali, this second most touristic beach in Mexico after Cancun is paradise for Americans. The average tourists were the sorority and fraternity-like White Americans solely aiming on partying, getting tanned, getting drunk and getting laid, and the overcooked retired couples lying on the beach all day. On top of that, signs in town of all-American crowded, although local-owned clubs pronouncing ‘Welcome Springbreakers’, made me really disgust of the whole beach resort concept. This was my first and last beach resort holiday to lie on the beach all day doing nothing. Of course it was very beautiful to lie down, relax and enjoy the sound of the blowing wind and the dancing sea -just like on any other beach, but I got extremely irritated by the idea of being idle and becoming numb while being served by the hard-working Mexicans. I couldn’t get any inspiration there, until my last day before leaving the country, after having seen Mexico City, which has been really inspiring and thus resulted in penning out a poem at once.

MEXICO CITY

As it used to be one of the biggest cities in the world I expected it to be just like Jakarta, but this false hope got me by surprise. One major difference is the high altitude of its location, which means it gets really cold by night, and I was not prepared for that! Then, the public transportation is very good, matter of fact, the Mexican subway and larger-distances bus systems are best I’ve experienced; it’s as neat and beautiful like in DC, fast, clear, and it costs only 2 pesos, meaning US$0.20 cents (0,17 Euro cents)! The informal work sector is of course also very common, apparent 3and musical! The underground pathways are not full of ads, but decorated with ‘educational’ posters on nature and life. There’s even a dark section of a tunnel with zodiac-signs on the arched ceiling.

The traffic was mad, but still not as insane as in Jakarta or NYC. The many Volkswagen vans and bugs in the royal setting the city made the area authentic and very adorable. Mexico City has no small, dirty and inconvenient public motor vehicles as common in Asia, and that makes such a different to the scenery and air: the pollution is by far not that bad.

Furthermore, I had a really rich, colorful, inspirational, cultural, and vibrant impression of Mexico D.F. (Distrito Federal) as is it also called by the locals. The buildings, even the subsidized houses, are very bright-colored, and the many parks and squares, with its necessary street vendors, make the city even more joyous and alive, and intimate! ‘Go to the park’ is the Latin-American equivalent of ‘Get a room’. Intimateness is not limited to private spheres, but can be over obviously found in every public setting; Mexicans, in every age range –from young teens to elderly, are not preserved in displaying public affection, from the usual walking hand-in-hand to (overstated) hugging and kissing.

It seems to contradict with Mexico’s main religion, but it makes sense to know that in the pre-Catholic state of Mexico, the people had very open attitudes towards sexuality. The churches and holy places I’ve visited were incredibly impressive, in the sense that it wasn’t merely a touristic attraction: people would also actually do prayers and confessions. There were people carrying large crosses to the mass or to the holy Maria statue.

The cultural sensation could be felt on the street as well as in the many museums and exhibitions the city has to offer. We only had the chance to visit the Frida Kahlo house, which have been extremely inspiring to me. We got to see, but not enter the huge and famous Museum of Anthropology; it would take at least two days for me to explore that place.

[Noemie, Alberto & I]

[El Museo de Antropologia]

We stayed in a very awesome hostel, and very known and visited by the locals for its bar and music, probably also because its perfect location; at Zocalo, the historically famous square where a lot of protests have taken place. During our stay there was some musical festival going on right in front of the door, so we could enjoy the concerts till late at night from the rooftop terrace of our hostel…

[Our hostel]

[The rooftop terrace]

[Zocalo]

The last day we took a hostel-organized tour to several Mexican cultural heritages. It was extremely crowded and incredibly hot (no trees, no shadows) at the huge solid Theotihuacan temples. I’m not a big fan of tour-guided sightseeings, but our tour guide was very good and gave us thoroughly, and beyond, information.

Funny detail: in the Theotihuacan-empire, little children would be sacrificed in times of drought, with the rationale that they would play on the clouds and thus cause rain.

Many ‘indigenous’ Mexicans still practice their traditional rituals and dances on main squares, parks and of course at the Theotihuacan temples, either alone, in small or in big groups. Confusing, but historically not odd, was to see many men were dressed in the typical ‘cowboy’ outfit, more in Guadalajara then in D.F. though. Logically, the boots need to stay smooth and shiny, and that’s probably why shoe-shiners, somehow informal, but in their most settled, equipped, and sometimes even sponsored stands, are common in the street scenery.

[On Zocalo]

Close to the business area, which resembles Jalan Sudirman in Jakarta, but without the street vendors, was the extraordinary Zona Rosa. This gay area was maybe a bit cocky, but still very Latin American flavored, though not necessarily machismo, it still caused a unique atmosphere.

From the Torre Latino America, an old but still the highest building in the city, we witnessed how D.F. changed from daylight glimmering into the dark from the 44th floor (around 182 meter).

On food I tried almost everything the streets had to offer. Churro’s, basically fried dough sweetened with caramel sauce for example. And Mexicans are as crazy as Indonesians can be on spicy sauce; they put it on everything! But their sauce consist of grinded chili smoothened with lime and salt, a very distinctive, and addictive taste! In addition they’re very fond of pork, which was of course very pity for me

Afterwards I’ve been told I was just very lucky to have experience Mexico (City) in such a ‘clear’ state, and that it had been raining and smogging before our arrival. I found this when we left Monday afternoon, and I was in the plane and looked down on a big cloud that divided the amazing view of Mexico City expanding up to the mountain hills, in a ‘clear blue’ setting from the polluted grey sky above the clouds.

Mexico showed me a rough and dry, but rich natural environment that I’ve never witnessed before. This country was an extraordinary anyhow, and unlike the places I’ve traveled before. During this trip I realized how regrettable it was to not have continued Spanish: most of the time Noemie (France) and I were completely dependent on Alberto (Spain). Thus, I’d really like to go back again, but only with a Spanish-speaking travel mate!

The way back was as hectic as our departure. When we landed in Atlanta, Georgia, we all had to go through customs, even though it was just a transit of one hour. At arrival in Newark, New Jersey, by midnight, Christine was already in awaiting for us. While our other friends left Guadalajara some days earlier, she stayed until the end with her boyfriend, so she could meet up with the three of us at Newark airport and drive back to Burlington. At 8 o’clock in the morning we finally arrived in our dorms, so that we all could still be on time for our 9am and 11am classes…

Double Birthday Party & Mardi Gras

2007-03-23T22:33:00.000-07:00

B I R T H D A Y S

Since Eva’s birthday was the 26th of February, it was for sure that we would have a double birthday party together. After a long search for a good location, it was finally held at our friend Anna’s place. She has a nice and neat place, and we wanted to keep it that way, so since it was very snowy outside, we requested people to take off their shoes.

Our friend, who is a DJ, played the music of that night, making it a real dance party, which Eva and I have never held before. It was really nice, and good enough, as people still had the options to have conversations, or sit down, or write something on our poster, or go outside, or eat! We prepared cake with ice cream and fruit, but our theme was BYO (Bring Your Own), so we had enough to eat and drink.

Unfortunately the night had to end with an unfortunate happening. My friend could not find her purse, and I felt really bad about that. House parties in the States are like ‘Open Houses’, as everybody, including –or even those who are not invited, is able to come. Basically, that’s how I’ve been going to other house parties as well; hearing about it from others. But that’s something we wanted to avoid. Eventually, non-invited did get to hear about our party, so there were some people who showed up that night Eva and I did not personally know. Therefore I suspect them to have taken my friend’s purse, which is sadly enough, still not founded and thus simply lost.

Nevertheless was it an awesome and special party; Eva turned Quarter a Century and I am now Double Deux! We are suitemates, basically we sleep head to head with a thin wall in between, and she's my best friend here, and celebrating our birthdays together was something really cool and special.

M A R D I G R A S

The ‘carnival’ fest before lent, is known here as Mardi Gras. But because many roads were still covered with snow on the actual day of Mardi Gras, the fest was postponed to the following Saturday, the 24th of February, when the actual 40 days of fasting already took place.

It was a sunny day with a clear blue sky, as usual on my birthday, and downtown was packed with families, youngsters and every other inhabitant of greater Burlington, enjoying the music and decorated cars and trucks marching by. But basically it was like watching one big, life commercial block along the streets. The whole fest was sponsored by big companies, so the least they deserve was to have Burlington’s population of 20.000 to perceive only a glimpse of their company. I must admit I can still enjoy the philanthropic mindset and expressions of Ben & Jerry’s, but I detest seeing images of Heidi Klump on a huge pink truck passing by.

People were walking around with loads of colorful beads around their necks, because were given away and spread around. The idea behind it though was that a person would receive a bead for every time she or he would ‘flash’ someone, meaning showing a body part, mainly implying the breasts.

After 45 minutes the parade was over and he crowd got scattered, streaming into the bars and pubs to drink the day through. Dressing up and getting drunk, basically the same as back home. Now I just need to experience carnival in the Netherlands!

Debate Tournament

2007-03-09T13:28:00.000-08:00

As I got involved in the UVM’s debate team, I knew I would have to put a lot of effort, time and energy in it. The concept of a debate team is something I have never heard of before, but as I heard and figure, it’s a great mean to develop and improve your speech and reasoning skills, and get deeper understanding of certain topics. Ideally your team would win during national and even international tournaments all over the country, but the main purpose is to have fun and enjoy.

During the preparation and practice debate, I realized I got myself into a seriously complicated game. I was overwhelmed, anxious and concerned. What if I would fail and lose? But the coaches and all other debaters were not worried at all: as long as I would have fun!

The tournament took place at Binghamton University, New York, a six-hours van ride away, and staying at a real American motel with diner along the highway was definitely an exciting part of it (including the sketchy red stain on the floor between the beds in our room!).

It’s really complicated, but this is roughly how it works:
The first debate starts at 8am, and takes about 1,5 to 2 hours. With breaks and lunch in between, we finished our day of four debates around 6pm. The debate itself takes place between two teams and one judge, and in the more advanced debates there can be some audience in the classroom as well. One team will be the ‘affirmative’ and bring up a case, while the other has to be ‘negative’, and come with a counter plan or something else. Bottom line is to convince the judge to vote for your plan, not necessarily on the contents, but on the way of debating.

Every team should be familiar and prepared with the national topics, which this year are desegregation, abortion, global warming and some others I forgot. The first 9 minutes is to bring up the case and read out ‘evidence’ on why the status quo is bad, and what the alternative plan is. Reading piles of paper in such short amount of time means talking in high-speed mode. It’s pretty ridiculous, because it’s just impossible to follow the speaker, and the speech thus becomes incomprehensible, although the ‘negative’ is allowed to take over and read through the evidence cards, if the ‘affirmative’ is done with it. This technique shows how the speech/debate is focused on quantity, rather than quality. There have been ‘negative’ teams who simply replied with a 9 minutes silence or dance to dispute the high-speed reading.

[Me and my debate partner Joe]

Debating at this tournament were universities mostly from the East coast. There were mainly Whites, and I could count the Blacks attending on my one hand, but there was a remarkable amount of Asian debaters. Maybe because academic debating is a known concept in Asia -at least China and Indonesia, as well?

Debating for me was funny, ridiculous, mean, bad, and friendly, but moreover simply overwhelming. We lost all our debates, but we learned a lot from it. When we were ready to debate our last debate the next Sunday morning, we turned out to have no counter team to debate against, and thus our first debate tournament was over by then.

Snow Days

2007-03-02T21:41:00.000-08:00

After all those promises, I finally got to experience the real Vermont winter culture on Whatever-Day (right, Valentine’s Day). Because of the bad weather forecast UVM, and many other institutions in the Northeast of America, announced it officially as a ‘snow day’, and therefore closed their doors.

All day long, I was wandering around inside the L/L-complex, staring out all the windows, to gaze at the rushing blizzard causing piles of snow out side. I was, and still am, amazed and astonished about the amount of the snow, that had an average height of 1 meter. Because the roads and walking paths needed to be shuffled, some piles reached almost 3 meter!

[Our Marche Cafetaria]

The next day was another official snow day, although the actual snowstorm had already set down. Instead, it was a beautiful sunny day, and thus perfect to go out and play in the snow, without getting our face all soaked, as happened, when we attempted to go snow sliding the 1st snow day. Because only the main roads were shuffled, it was up to us, to dig through the snow. As someone who has never experienced so much snow before, I had great fun!

Protest Against The War

2007-02-28T18:09:00.000-08:00

[Representing Vermont!]

On Friday evening, January the 27th, a big bus full of UVM’ers left the -20 degrees Celsius Burlington, to arrive 10 hours later in the 15 degrees Celsius climate of Washington DC!

[Music, dancing & ideology]

The rally at the Mall (the big green at the Capitol) was blessed with a bright blue sky and the warm shining sun above, allowing people to play the drum and dance in shirts, bare feet or even topless (hey, there were loads of hippies coming straight from the 70s by time machine!). There were loads of funny and creative banners, but sadly also very sexist-oriented.

After Jane Fonda, Sean Penn and some others finished their speech, the march that I was looking forward to finally started. It was impressive to actually be part of a protest in Washington DC at the Capitol, but dull at the same time. Unlike protests I’ve experienced, this demonstration was not provoking at all, because we didn’t confront other non-protesting citizens. Circling around the governmental center that was closed anyway wasn’t really challenging except for the handful of pro-war supporters standing along the line. It was a national protest though, so it might have been more aggressive in other major cities.

[The pro's]

[What is the Israelian flag good for?]

['The hippies']

Winter break in NYC

2007-02-12T09:42:00.000-08:00

[Torik, Cerolyn & I at Zen's Asian vegetarian restaurant]

A friendship can change or even dissolve when separation of school takes place. I would see my friend Carolien (or Cerolyn) only occasionally after we finished high school, but during our stay in NYC, we experienced the fun old days, as if we’ve never got separated.

Another friendship can just start from the friendly Friendster website, where Torik once approached me, about two years ago. When I came back from Indonesia we coincidentally met in Amsterdam and we turned out to live close-by; next thing he’s flying over to NYC on Christmas Night, to spend winter break with Cerolyn and me!

We’ve had an amazing time, and they both celebrated their birthdays in New York, and this journey full of amazing fortunes and remarkable similarities was simply outstanding and definitely one of our best trips.

TOURISTS

Cerolyn and I were so excited, that we came to a point where we didn’t know what else to do because we’d already explored most of NYC within the first couple of days, attempt in a most non-touristic possible way. Like, we didn’t take the $11 ferry filled with I LOVE NYC- T-shirts wearing sightseers, to touch the Statue of Liberty; its view from the pier in Battery Park in the tip of Lower Manhattan was fair enough for us.

[Battery Park viewing Lady Liberty]

CULTURE SHOCKS ALONG THE WAY

In our exploration of the city we continuously experienced culture shocks, by walking from one to another neighborhood. From the all Spanish-speaking mixed people living in the impoverished Spanish Harlem, we gradually walked into the fancy gay-oriented area of Chelsea, inhabited and visited mostly by pretty handsome and way overdressed men. This is one of my favorite sections in NYC because of the great tasty, well designed, but cheap restaurants.

[Spanish Harlem]

[Bleecker Area]

[Kosher Chinese/Japanese restaurant!]

[Torik, Iwan & Tomi in Little Italy]

HARLEM

The Harlem part we went (around 125 St) was not as ghetto-ish as it is known for. The area has been thoroughly renovated and uplifted: the houses are beautiful and extremely elegant, and the streets are clean and tidy. What’s true from TV are the people (elders and youngsters) hanging around each corner of a block. What’s also true is that it is a Black populated neighborhood; we’ve only seen three White people, including Cerolyn ☺. This is also shown in the all Black culture-oriented, yes, hiphop-style of life shops, and the way and things street vendors offer: religious books, memorials of important Black people, and even sweaters with pro-Black texts and messages, ‘against’ White people: sort of the opposite, but passive and verbal version of the Ku-Kux Clan. We also passed a wall of posters on slavery, exposing images of the cruel, violent and scary history of Blacks in America. … Harlem was really impressive.

GHETTO?

But there are still many projects, which, unlike in Amsterdam, do not undergo renovations. The East Side of the Bronx is considered the most ghetto-like. Out of curiosity, we traveled though that area by bus. Indeed, the grey, homogeneous and non-energic environment inflicts the impoverished condition of that district, but we didn’t feel the sense of gangs, gunfights and danger as we see on TV and personally have been told by others. Maybe it was just our luck not to get involved in those sceneries?

[Carwash]

ACCOMMODATION

The first major part of my stay, Cerolyn and I resided at the brother of her brother-in-law Peter, who lives in a dollhouse (the roof gets lower by the level) in Riverdale, Bronx, with his boyfriend Mark, two dogs and a cat. The dogs were a fun part of our stay, since we had to take care of them when Mark and Peter went out of town for a few days. Torik, meanwhile, stayed at my friend's place in the East Side of Manhattan, which quite surrounding, deprived designs and stinky elevators are comparable to Amsterdam’s former projects in the outskirts.

[Mark & Peter's place]

[Cerolyn & Sheeba]

(Sunny & I)

[With Peter, Cerolyn & Mark]

[Rockafella Center]

[With Cerolyn's Family-in-laws]

ICE-SKATING IN CENTRAL PARK

It’s amazing how peaceful it can get in the middle of the park of Manhattan, while still seeing the skyscrapers behind the trees and rocks. Ice-skating on popsy pop songs made the scene even more awkward, but also very astounding!

[Ice-skating with the family]

[Central Park Ice-skating]

[Columbia University]

[Me & Cerolyn]

[Amsterdam Theatre at Times Square]

SUBWAY

The almost one-hour sub-rides we had to make every time to get downtown Manhattan were worth a thousand surprises. From making new friends, to escaping a train wagon someone was vomiting all over. We enjoyed performances, from poems, to Mexican music. Another I was very amazed of was a marvelous act by youngsters with beat boxes; and the kid who was twisted upside down in the middle of the wagon amidst the crowd, was actually really young, around the age of 11. So much reminded me of the public transportation in Jakarta: snacks (churro’s!) and CDs were sold on the stations and sometimes even in the train; this well-dressed Asian guy would quickly pass by and discretely offer people his DVD-collection underneath his jacket…. NYC subways are so much fun!

NEW JERSEY

After Cerolyn went back home, I stayed with my friend Tomi and his boyfriend Michael in Jersey City, again accompanied with dogs (three!) and fishes (three!). They took me to Hoboken, Jersey’s downtown area full of yuppies and fancy restaurants, and beautifully located along the boardwalk viewing the whole Western Manhattan part…

[Times Square, Old Year by noon]

NEW YEARS EVE

While Torik was committed to spend NYE on Times Square, people succeeded to convince me not to. Clearly: when we went to Times Square by noon to drop him off, it was already packed and certain areas were already gated.
I spent NYE partly at Tomi’s in Jersey City, but went downtown Manhattan late in the evening. By midnight though, I wasn’t at the place I was suppose to meet my friend. Instead I was in a cab, with an Indian driver, who gave me the ride for free, because it was New Year and moreover because we were fellow Muslims, as he said himself.
The plan to meet up with Torik later on failed, because it was just impossible to compete with others struggling for a cab. On top of that it started raining, so I ended up walking through Manhattan by myself after meeting my friend, searching for the right train stop that would take me back to Jersey City. Exciting it was still, as I passed by all kind of areas, bars, and parties where I could get in for free after midnight anyway: gay-bars, hiphop-parties, Asian clubs, hippies and yuppies districts. There were people passed out, lying (sleeping?) on the wet streets, while others were arguing, screaming, and fighting out loud around the corner.
It was a very awkward night, and not how I expected it to be, but it was all good. As I left the next morning, Torik stayed, and even went to Florida, visiting a friend of ours.

[New years eve in Jersey]

BACK HOME

Due to bank problems and other issues that needed to be taken care of, I had to unexpectedly return home to Amsterdam. Fun part was that I didn’t tell any of my friends; the reactions were hilarious! I only had two weeks though, to do the things I needed to do, so I’m really sorry if I didn’t contact any of you. Too little time! On the other hand it was really strange to be back; it felt as if I had never left, but on the other hand, I was not ‘suppose to be back’ yet: I was on holiday in my own country!

Winter in Vermont!

2007-01-26T13:52:00.000-08:00

[Me & Laura]

Have you ever felt ice crystals inside of your nose? Before describing the beautiful white but harsh Vermont winter culture, I’ll start with my arrival, back to Burlington, after my one month winter break (which I’ll tell about in my next message).

BAD ARRIVAL
On the way back to the States I realized I actually had too little time for my last transit, since I also had to go through immigration. Thus at arrival in Newark I rushed myself through the crowd to be first in line. But at the booth I had the biggest shock for the moment causing my eyes to pop out, when the man asked for my J-1 visa document that proves I’m studying in the States! I didn’t even bring the paper; it was still in my map, in my room, in Burlington… One unpleasant flight with Lufthansa, took me to another unfriendly environment of stiff and harsh empty-heads at the ‘immigration and naturalization’ office. I imagined myself missing my plane and forced to buy another ticket, staying over at the airport, and missing first day of school. I couldn’t believe I was sitting there in a room with a most-wanted-terrorists poster on the wall. There were not only ‘colored people’ as one would expect perhaps, though. I was among sketchy, but also well-dressed men and youngsters and a crying German girl, who needed a translator. After receiving the authorized documents for me to proceed my trip, another surprise was in await for me as I tried to reschedule my flight: the one I thought I missed had a delay of over two hours due to bad weather! Finally arriving at Burlington Airport at 1.30am, my night of unfortunate events had not ended: both my luggage were lost, again. But the service was quicker this time, I received them both the next evening, luckily!

2ND SEMESTER
Being back at campus was different but very exciting. New courses, a lot of people left, a bunch of new exchange students got in, and there was a whole different environmental setting. The pile of snow is really thick and lasting, and even though the temperature is quite okay, the first day I did freeze my feet and hands off. I arranged a schedule that allows me to have the Monday’s and Friday’s off, and the Wednesday’s to enjoy winter Vermont to the fullest by snowboarding down the mountains!

SNOWBOARDING
The first day at Stowe’s resort, which is one-hour away from campus, was just perfect: it was a beautiful sunny day, and I was even overdressed. After some practicing the instructor even let us take the elevator, which was nice and clumsy, but also scary at the steep part. I got panicked when I realized that we didn’t really learned how to break or stop going downhill, so I lowered my body close to the board in order to fall more easily and less painfully…that’s what I thought at least! Instead, not standing straight enforced the speed of going downhill, and I did fell, really hard, and a couple of times. But it’s worth all the fun we have!

[Me, Maja, Anca & Eva]

CLASSES
To balance my four days of weekend and all-day snowboarding on Wednesday I have to sacrifice the other two days, and on Tuesday’s even from 11am to 9pm. I’m taking Statistics, the only mandatory requirement for my home university, so I have to work really hard on that! Other courses I’m taking: Psychology of Women, Child Development, and Race Relations in the United States. No Anthro-classes this semester, and I can really tell by the different way of teaching and examining (multiple choice!).

And oh, in addition I play squash now, and joined the UVM debate team! So fanatic…

Halloween, Chicago, End of semester 1

2006-12-23T23:01:00.000-08:00

Before I discuss my interesting observations on my second trip to NYC, I’d like to go through October/November first.

* HALLOWEEN *

The traditional American trick or treat-fest, with pre-Christian pagan European roots, is just like any other supposedly ‘traditional’ festival, taken over by the inevitable currents of capitalism. Halloween is a great, but extremely commercialized event, allowing people to spend big money on costumes and parties. I found myself lucky enough to spend the weekend before Halloween with my roommate Sarah, and her boyfriend Virgil, at Sarah’s sister’s place in Salem: the prominent witch town and epitome of Halloween places. The small town in Massachusetts is very cute and…just like on TV. As it was Halloween-weekend, the town was very crowded and touristic, but it is said, that even outside these holidays some people walk around in witch-costumes all year-round, to keep up their witch town image.

BENTLEY COLLEGE
The Saturday night we went to Bentley College, a remote isolated, somewhat private, business school near Boston, where Virgil’s friend from his home university (in Vienna) lives. In the main hall was a great party going on, but we also spend time in the dorms, where students set up their own parties. It was incredibly fun to see how the close conglomeration of international exchange students there was just like at my university.

COSTUMES
Beside the standard pirates, goo goo-girls, maids, doctors, firemen and women, I was astonished by the creativity that people expressed in their costumes. One guy was all dressed in black, including the paint of his face and limbs. Meanwhile he kept on dancing around, with his white iPod in, which I found quite rude, but he stated to be the silhouette model from the iPod adds! I figured out that this sense of creativity is comparable to the Dutch tradition of making surprises and poems during Sinterklaas for December 5th.

[A real cop with a dressed-up prisoner]

IN BURLINGTON
The actual Halloween was on Thursday October 31, back in Burlington. At UVM there were no parties held, because our regulations are more strictly, so together with the international students, we went to a house party that was unlike others I have experienced so far. No cags of beer, no wasted freshmen or stupid drunk students in a packed house: no, this event was at a small-scale friendly setting, with older people around to have conversations and make friends with.

* CHICAGO *

I think it was odd to schedule a one-week of Thanksgiving recess three weeks before the end of the semester, but my Spanish friend Eva and I used it to visit Chicago, escaping last period stress. My cousin Sari lives in the Mundelein suburb, which lies one train hour a way from downtown: every day we traveled two hours back and forth!

The highly art-oriented setting of Chicago at Michigan Lake represents a blend of modern high buildings with relatively old classic architecture, with many interesting museums, and art work from known (like Miro), unknown and local artist scattered all over town. But I was also confronted with the great amount of homeless people dwelling the city. The fact that I have been situated in the relatively secure city of Burlington for a couple of months made this culture shock even bigger. And the sad and worrying thing is that the class hierarchy is often in conjunction with ‘race’.

For Thanksgiving we didn’t have the traditional stuffed turkey with mash potato and pumpkin cake, we prepared an Indonesian celebration dinner instead… (But when we got back to Burlington, we did have turkey with the internationals). The next day is known as Black Friday: the official start for the Christmas shopping season. For this occasion many big chain stores begin by opening their doors at 5am… For the lines of people waiting to spend their money!

* NAKED BIKE RIDE *

What you read is what you get! This half-annually event takes place at the end of a semester, signifying their relieved stress and anxieties. Coincidently (not), that Thursday was the first day of real snowfall, causing a beautiful white, and cold, setting in Burlington. Around midnight people started gathering at ‘Boulevard le Marche’, the main street through Living and Learning Center, my residence complex. I could have watched it from our balconies, but the true experience was to be among the exciting, drunk, and supporting crowd. In this naked bike ride/marathon most participants dressed up with a fun accesoire like wings, hats, shawls and bags. The route was circling around a certain campus area, so it lasted not longer than half an hour.

* END OF SEMESTER *

It goes as usual, with a lot of stress. Only this time, everything was extra awkward. I spent almost four months with people from my classes and with some I became friends, with many not, but it felt weird anyway to say goodbye during the last class, because there was a certain bond formed somehow. But Burlington is small enough to run into people by chance, so I wasn’t as if I would never see my classmates again. It were the international students who’d only stay for one semester I was likely to not see again, therefore I felt like spending some last time with them: dinners, parties, gatherings, and clubbing, With . With them it was the same: with some I became very close friends, with most I had a normal or even shallow relation, but all together we had one thing in common: we were all new in this country to study as international exchange students. This common denominator created and maintained a mutual sense of grouping among us.

End of Ramadan, Boston & NYC

2006-10-29T21:28:00.000-08:00

I'm back! Starting off with some sad news unfortunately, but gradually this message will get better:

SENIOR MISSING
As of October 8, the front page news of our UVM’s paper The Vermont Cynic and the flyers that were spread all over campus announced the missing of the 21-year old UVM-student Michelle Gardner-Quinn. At first I was quite naive about it, because I doubted anything seriously harmful could have happen to her. She must have run away or something. But candles and posters saying ‘I am scared’ and ‘This is violence against women’ at the fountain in our University Park Place proved me the earnest of the case. After an intense week of waiting, hoping and searching, her body was finally found right outside of town.

I do no know more about the case. I felt the need to attend her memorial service, because I was quite affected by her death. Of course I’d rather not walk alone by night, but I have never really felt unsafe, and maybe that’s because I grew up in the city center of Amsterdam. That’s also the irony in this case: Michelle was an Environmental Studies student and went to school in South-Africa and South-America. She was warned to be careful there, but then this happens to her in Burlington, this small liberal uptown city where it is ‘supposed to be’ safe! You just never know, and once again: always expect the unexpectable…

RAMADAN 2006
Ramadan in Burlington turned out to be lonelier than I expected it to be. It’s been hard for me, and I don’t mean the actual fasting itself, including the waking up in the morning alone to eat, and break the fasting alone at night, because I’m used to that as I’ve mentioned before. There is a small Muslim community in Burlington (a majority South Asians, many Bosnians, and few Southeast-Asians, White Americans and Arabs), and I went to the mosque once to have iftar (break fasting and have dinner) there. It’s nice, but too remote a place, and the people that go there are mostly elders and families. Since there are no Muslims around here, no one is aware that it’s the month of Ramadan anyway. And if they are, if they’ve ever heard of it, they probably don’t even know what it is and the meaning of it, and guess what; they don’t mind and don’t care! So not only missing my family and friends and lacking a Muslim environment made me feel lonely, but the fact that the people around me showed no interest in this holy month pushed me even further into sincere loneliness. Of course people reacted surprised when I mentioned that I was fasting, and therefore am a Muslim (but you don’t wear a headscarf!), but then I was surprised on how little knowledge they had about Islam and that they didn’t question me further about Ramadan. Could ‘fear of Islam’ play a role, or is it truly just carelessness? Anyhow I felt there was no concern, no interest, no care, no understanding and no moral support, and that left me in wretched solitude. The shallow fun with all the people here is cool, but I’ve always preferred to hang around or go out with small-scale groups, and this kind of filtering month left me with a few good friends, who did support me, and with whom I’m happy with and know I can count on. This experience was needed to appreciate my family and good friends. Oh, how I longed to have the traditional iftars together with you guys!

BOSTON CELTICS VS NEW YORK KNICKS BASKETBALL GAME
The last Saturday morning of Ramadan 2006 we left to Connecticut by car to watch the Boston Celtics VS New York Knicks playing the pre-seasonal NBA game. We went with a random group of seven internationals, and that made the trip sometimes somewhat exhausting. We could never agree on where to eat, where to go (on the road and in the city) and what to do. Nevertheless I enjoyed it very much (it’s really fun to see people who actually don’t really know each other having ridiculous small quarrels in the van ☺). The game was held in Uncasville, too small a town, but known for its Mohegan Sun; gambler’s paradise! Out of the blue, in the middle of nowhere, this one big, high, modern, shining building popped out of the ground, and inside was this Indian/native American oriented center of gambling areas, shops, café’s and restaurants. This was the first building in the US I entered where you were actually allowed to smoke! In Burlington you cannot even smoke in café’s or on the terraces outside. I had so much fun observing all that happened around me. There were all kinds of people there and even children. I guess it also functioned as some kind of Saturday night hang out spot (just like in the Indonesian malls!).

The game was also in the Mohegan Sun, but I was not really impressed by it. It was too long, and unlike soccer games, where people tensely look forward to the first goal, basketball players ‘make points/goals’ every 20 seconds, so I didn’t feel any excitement or the value of the score. The place was most crowded during the middle of the game, because people just arrived late and just left earlier. So much for true fans, huh? Afterwards no Saturday night hopping downtown, because of course we got lost on the way and after three hours we finally arrived in our hostel in Boston around 1am.

[Boston, Government Center]

BOSTON
Why didn’t I end up studying in, the city where I always wanted to study? Boston is amazing! This is what I’m used to; a big city life, with many different cultures, an exciting, somewhat touristic city center, a wonderful green and open park, and very important: a huge variety of accessible food!
When I walked around town with Adrian from Switzerland (yes, we needed to split up the group), we coincidently met some other UVM-internationals! This shows how big, but then again, smallish, Boston is. Perfect isn’t it?
When I took the 5pm Greyhound-bus from South Station Boston, heading NYC, I was excited about spending Idul Fitri (the celebration of the end of Ramadan) there, but I also felt uncertain, because my aunt in NYC, at whom I would stay, had not yet confirmed on picking me up. But when I called her from some one else’s cell in the bus, she was already prepared to pick me up, so it was all good. And even if not, I was willing to search for a hostel somehow. I wouldn’t go back to Burlington; I had to, needed to and just would go to NYC!!

[New York City]

CELEBRATING THE END OF RAMADAN IN NYC
Idul Fitri turned out to be Monday, the next morning after my arrival at 10pm at Port Authority, near Times Square. In the morning we went to the mosque to pray together. The front of the building said masjid Al-Hikmah (what else?), Indonesian Muslim Community, oh my God, I was so happy! It was a really nice, clean and organized place, and sooo many people!

[Masjid Al-Hikmah; Indonesian Muslim Community]

[Outside the mosque]

OPEN HOUSES
It’s traditional to spend Idul Fitri, hopping from one place to another to meet friends and family, to gather and to congratulate each other, and of course, to enjoy food! At lunchtime we went to the house of the head of the Indonesian embassy. They had a huge house and a garden with tents to receive the guests. There were a lot of people and a lot of foooooood!!! I didn’t know anybody of course, but I enjoyed myself so much (es teler, bakmi bakso, sayur asinan, ikan, cumi, and oh ya, also hot dogs, halal!). I did meet some veiled girls, Afro-American, Spanish and White American, who converted into Islam and experienced their first Ramadan, also lonely as I did.

[Prayer area]

Next destination was the Indonesian embassy office itself, and wow, that was impressive, and very goldish from the inside. The building, the style and the setting reminded me of The Nanny’s house. There was not much food left, but we had to leave anyway, because my aunt and my uncle had to prepare for their own ‘open house’ to receive guests.

[Indonesian embassy]

NO DIFFERENCE
That night, it felt just as if I was in Indonesia, because the whole setting was the same: a beautiful big house, my two somewhat spoilt cousins, the maids, the driver and all these beautifully dressed up people in traditional clothing, which was very melancholic to see but also awkward to observe, that no matter where Indonesians are located in the world, they really remain the same attitude, behavior and all. The only things that fell out of place and made me realize that we actually were in the States, were the English, in American accent chattings in betweens, and the White and Afro-American policemen that wandered in and around the house. I did not really understand whether the presence of guarding cops was needed because it was an Islamic event or because my aunt is the second person of the Indonesian embassy in NYC. Was it truly necessary having a police car outside the house, or was it just this elitist attitude I find so typical to Indonesian people?

Anyhow, and again, I knew nobody, but I just enjoyed being among them. The house was crowded, even though my aunt also extended it by placing tents outside. Kids were running all over the place, but finally settled themselves in the TV-room playing X-box, as the youngsters around the age of 13 to 17 (like my cousins’) stayed in the basement playing music (drums and guitar, so sweet!). I was busy organizing my eating schedule, because again, there was so much! Bajigur, ketan hitam, soto mie, rendang, kue nastar, kaasstengels, pempek, so much more, and oh, I also had the best strawberry cheesecake ever that night.

NYC, MANHATTAN
The thing was that I had two papers due Monday and Tuesday, so I brought my laptop every time with me and worked on my papers whenever possible that weekend (on the road, in the car, at the open houses). After I finished at noon on Tuesday, I took the subway from Queens and got out somewhere near Chinatown and wandered around Manhattan by myself, finally ending up at Ground Zero.
There I was, in New York City, where all of status is located, where the cast of Friends suppose to live (you know I just love that show), the metropolitan center of the world, the actual definition of globalization, the focus of my study in Anthropology, where McDonald’s in Chinatown has Chinese prescriptions… It was overwhelming. My plan to explore Queens with a friend the next day, was ruined because there was only one train heading Burlington, leaving at 11.30am, so I ‘lost’ one day on the train that got me home at 10pm (!!!). New York, I’ll be back!

[Chinatown]

[Look what they taped on the add]

My New Dorm, Starting Ramadan & My Classes

2006-10-01T09:00:00.000-07:00

My old dorm

NEW HOME
Firstly I’d like to announce that the residence of C High is my new home now! In my last post I already gave up all hope, but voila! That’s why it’s best to always expect the unexpected ☺ I did drop the Art House, because I couldn’t stand the attitude of the people there, but then there was Sarah, who lives in C 364, and she asked me if I wanted to be her roommate, since she still had a spare bed. Oh my God, yeah!
C building is the last part of Living/Learning Complex that’s not renovated yet, so it’s the only building that remained the balconies for this year! And the bathrooms are old, true, but it has a bath tube (not that I would use it though). Then there’s the daycare (mostly for the children of UVM-workers) that’s located in C-building, so when I’m heading home, little children are playing and crawling around the main hall! The rooms are a bit smaller, but it’s all worth it!

LADIES ONLY
I already knew Courtney and Katherine (who makes astonishing paintings!), and Kassie is my other suite mate. Then there’s Alexandria who’s NEVER at home (such a waste of that single room)! But the other four girls (yes, girls suite!) are so sweet! We spend great time together watching TV, chatting and eating in our living room. It’s lovely, and really the opposite of what I had in my former dorm in A-Low. There’s no morning sun though, but our place is really bright in the morning because of the reflection, and from noon it’s our turn to enjoy the warmly sun directly and relax on our balcony! Furthermore we have a counter full of food and tea, a microwave, and now also a refrigerator: I’m all set!

What’s more is Eva from Spain, a close friend of mine, and she lives just across the hall. Now we live so close by now, we can easily have our small talk, laughter, consoling, or cooking together. The hall between our suites is actually so small, that we usually leave our entrance door open, so that it virtually extends our small living rooms. People from Eva’s suite and from mine (and people downstairs, where other internationals live); we all hang out with each other, so it’s really cozy and there’s this homely atmosphere among the residents of C-High. This might be the same at A-Low, only that I felt kind of excluded. And Sarah, she’s a freshman as well, but we can get along very well. We actually do go downtown together, and we hang around with same friends. She’s lovely and caring, and I’m happy in my new home!

That's Sarah, Kath, Courtney, Me & Kassie!

RAMADAN
And then of course there’s the month of Ramadan… I knew it would be a lonely one, and it is, so far.
Next to this obligated month of fasting, there’s also an additional fasting period on Mondays and Thursdays on voluntary basis, which I’ve been doing for a while. So because I’m used to fasting alone, fasting during Ramadan in Burlington doesn’t make any difference. I wake up and eat alone, don’t eat and drink during the day alone, withdraw from chaotic daily life alone, and finally, usually, eat dinner alone again. It’s different, but it’s good, I’m enjoying it. I am surprised though, by the little knowledge Americans have about Ramadan, and about Islam at all. I’ve informed my friends about me fasting, but they keep on offering me cookies and having lunch.

LECTURE
This Friday I went to a lecture of a well-known imam Yusuf Estes, a white American from Texas who converted to Islam! The flyer depicted him with beard, djelebah (traditional Arabic long dress, I guess?) and all, so I was really curious! The place was not packed, but the attending Muslims represented the wide variety of Muslims in Burlington. They were mostly Asians, from Indian and Pakistani descendant, then Southeast-Asians and white Americans, and few Arabs. At the end of the lecture there was a Japanese women wearing a headscarf, with her little son with Afro hair (!), who publicly converted to Islam on stage by saying the Shahadat (a pledge to become a Muslim)! Amazing, people were hugging them afterwards as in welcoming and bless them. And the imam was really good! And surprisingly funny! And to me it was also extremely weird to see an Arabic-appearing white man clarifying about Islam with this Texan accent! His lecture had a good amount on emphasizing how terrorism is the enemy of Islam, and the peaceful nature of Islam. Afterwards I had a good chat with his wife, also from Texas, converted, and even wearing a burqa! This was even more bizarre, because I’ve never had a conversation before with someone who was completely veiled. I still don’t see the urge in wearing one in order to be a ‘good Muslim’, but as the imam said, we are not to judge others (in their practicing of Islam).

COURSE SCHEDULE
For those who are interested in my courses: let’s run through the classes I have.

STREET CHILDREN
I start the week off with Anthropology, on Street Children. It’s a small classroom, with four rows of these typical individual seats with writing desks, which are pretty small. I’m confused where to put all my school equipments, when there’s hardly place to lean both arms on it. But the almost 40 students do fill in the classroom to its maximum capacity. We do lots of readings, watch movies, and then discuss about it. There’s one girl, who actually brings her dog Foster (no, it’s not even a small one) into the classroom! He lies there on the ground next to her seat! One time we also had class outside, on the grass, in the shadows; so nice! And oh, it’s not uncommon for people to enter the classroom bringing a skateboard… Could you manage that Wiri and Mel?

HUMAN DEVELOPMENT
About 1,5 hour later Human Development starts in this relatively big auditorium, with approximately 200 students. It’s a 0-level class, so beginners, introductory and quite factual, especially the first part, which concerns the biological development. After this we’ll discuss the cognitive and social/emotional part of it.

In the States, class generally means class as in lectures. The possibility to discuss depends on how large the group is. The familiar ‘werkgroep’ or workgroups, in the Netherlands, where the (usually) large class will be divided in smaller amounts in order to rehearse and discuss the issues of the lectures (and give presentations), is uncommon in the States. Another advantage of this Dutch system is that the students will get to know each other. The relationships between the students and professors in here are informal, as in the Netherlands; the latter prefer to be called by their first name. However, it strikes me how this tendency to a relaxed atmosphere appears very shallow to me. The professors hardly know their students’ names (they recognize me though), but also don’t even offer time or effort for the students to introduce themselves. Some started their classes with asking where everyone’s from; Burlington, Vermont, Maine, Boston, New York, some even further away, Virginia or California, but no one beats me!

With Vanya & Anca

GLOBALIZATION
Then there’s my other Anthropology class on Globalization, which I’m taking with two other international friends of mine from Croatia and Romania, and the tree of us just looove our professor! Everybody loves Larry! He’s very enthusiastic and progressive, and has this Spanish accent sometimes, since he’s half Puerto Rican. I’ve taken a Globalization course at my home university as well, but it’s amazing to see how he, as an American, lectures about this topic. He talks a lot out of his head and from own experiences. It’s a 90 students class; we do get to ask questions, but we don’t really have discussions. And this class has the most comfortable seats by the way; just like going to the movies! Seriously, the seats, the floor that goes up as you go further to the back, and the whole interior: I think the designer of this classroom, is the same as of the cinemas.

DRAWING
On Tuesdays I have Drawing class from 5 to 8.30 pm, and it’s a great compensation for not living in the Art House. It’s on the third floor of the Williams Hall, which is also the department of Anthropology (such perfect combination). I feel like a pig in poo ☺ in this arty classroom, drawing, while viewing the lake and mountains through the windows! The best part of it is that we have a break when the sunsets, and that’s when we go through the emergency exit that leads to the fire staircase outside the building, and enjoy sunset! It’s a see-through staircase, so quite scary from the forth floor, but the view is amazing! And everyone can get there, so I get to meet people. About the class itself: we do pencil and charcoal (still life) drawings, make collages and we’ve even drawn a naked model (for me the first time!). It’s wonderful; I really find enjoyment and peace in drawing, and seeing my peers’ astounding work.

Silent walk with Yoga class

HATHA YOGA
The next morning I have an early wake up call for Hatha Yoga class that starts at 9. It’s divided in a theoretical and practical part. However I find my courses extremely fascinating, it does require many, many readings. So among these drainable courses it’s really motivating to have allying classes where I can express myself, in the middle of the week; my high peak!

WOMEN & GENDER
And then there’s my sixth class, Women and Gender Studies: once a week on Thursdays from 5 to 8.30pm. At first I was anxious about it: there were girls only and the shortcut redheaded German professor looked and spoke so harsh! I wanted to drop this class and take the other parallel introductory class. But that teacher turned out to be even more severe! She kind of rejected me because I already missed two of her classes (this was in the beginning when we were given the opportunity to add and drop classes within two weeks).
But now I’m enjoying this class with professor Connie Schutz (told you she’s German!), who turned out to be very good, objective and kind after all. And to be in a class with girls only makes it special; it has a confident character. Maybe that’s why I feel most at ease during this class. I find a lot of difficulties with expressing myself, especially during discussions, so I don’t always dare to speak up. I always need to let everybody know that I’m an international exchange student, so they know why I talk funny. I’m working on my improvement, but it’s really hard sometimes. But it's also the fault of the Americans! They mumble too much! I just cannot understand a word of what they're saying... Ar-ti-cu-late people!

I’ve dropped Statistics. I cannot combine my need to adapt in a new situation with all those digits and formula’s. I hope I’ll be ready for the next semester to take Statistics, the only required course I need for my home university!!!

This is a very rare scene though! People even leave their bikes unlocked when they go to class!!

My Housing & Campus Activities

2006-09-10T21:43:00.000-07:00

Concerning internet connection: there seems to be a problem with my room, in combination with my laptop. My roommate is able to get online in our dorm, but I CAN’T, while elsewhere on campus my laptop works perfectly on wireless internet. The repair store couldn’t find any internal errors, so je ne sais pas… Looks like I need to go to the common areas or other dorms every time I want to get online … Talking ‘bout dorms…

MY DORM
I’m almost settled down as to housing. Changing rooms is no more at issue (at least not for this semester), since I didn’t feel really welcomed at the Making the Mark program; as if the people didn’t appreciate my enthusiasm about living with them and participating their programs. Yeah, it’s a pity. I felt sorry anyway for my roommate to ‘leave her’. She’s nice, watches ‘House’ (Crime Scene Investigation-like serial) on her laptop all the time, and is very neatly! I’m so grateful for not having a messy roommate! We virtually separated our room in two parts; therefore we each enjoy some personal space and privateness. I’ve now totally personalized my area, with a little carpet (a bath rug actually), a beanbag, a cushion seat, a juggle seat (like the banana swing seat from Ikea we used to have at home: it’s so much fun!) and posters (the maps of Amsterdam and Jakarta, which I will decorate soon with your pictures!). I’ve also created a cozy corner, perfectly situated to do my prayings. At first I was too mad about my ‘wrong’ placement, therefore exaggerated a bit about my conditions. Now I do feel comfortable in my room. I always learn/chill/hang out near my window which faces South, so I get a bit of morning sun and enough daylight to brighten me up!

THE LIVING/LEARNING CENTER
So I live in the Living/Learning Center which is a complex that consists of A, B, C, D and E buildings, though all connected through walking bridges and a center common room called ‘Fireplace Lounge’ (yup, there’s a fireplace), where also the mailboxes are located. Each building then is divided in columns; ‘Low’, ‘Middle’ and ‘High’. Each column usually has a small common living room (not very livable though: quite empty), a kitchen and a laundry room.
It is REALLY cool, I mean, REALLY awesome, I just love the L/L Center! It’s like a hotel or something; we all got our own rooms, but also common areas, and whenever I feel bored or something, I just go to my friends’ dorms in the other buildings… wearing pyjamas! Under the Fireplace Lounge is the Marche (supermarket and take out restaurant) and Alice’s Café, so we got it all! I’m enjoying it so much, just walking from one place to the other, meeting friends on the way…
The only thing I regret is, how simply unfair it is how they placed other international students together in the same building or column or suite or even room (though I ‘prefer’ a local roommate), while I’m the only international in the A-Low column. It really makes me feel ‘lonely’ sometimes, because we internationals are pretty close with each other. My suitemates are pretty nuts, in a fun way. Megan across the hall, also studies Anthropology, so that’s definitely a plus. It’s just that they’re all anime freaks, and I’m not. They’re cool, but it’s not like we go out together (yet), unlike other suitemates do. And it that way I’m not satisfied about my housing… But at least my roommate is tidy!!!

MOUNTAINBIKES ONLY
In a way, Burlington doesn’t differ that much from Amsterdam: in here they cycle too, but mountain bikes only! My campus is quite big, and I’m not planning to walk the whole track all the time: I need a bike! Besides, I am a real AMSTERDAMMER ☺ Recycle North store is the best! I got a bike for $10! For that price in Amsterdam, you’ll get a freshly stolen bike from a junky in the middle of the night. I repaired the brakes (very important!) for $35 and got a lock for $10. By the way: one thing the Dutch are bigger at: chain locks! It turned out they only sell these small, frail chain locks here…
Anyway, so I got my purple mountain bike now, happy and set… have I mentioned UVM is on a hill (Universitas Veritis Montis = University of the Green Mountains)? So I had to cycle UP HILL from downtown… I’m embarrassed, but must confess I couldn’t make it at once… It’s so tough; I’m all sweaty every time I get home … So all the people who warned me about getting fat: I think there’s no need to worry, we’ve got hills! BUT… An alternative for not exercising: the buses provide bike racks on their frontages! And some even have these, ehm, aid equipments, ehm, ‘elevators’ for the handicaps. Public transport in Burlington is really good, and free for me! But of course I cycle as much as possible, though sometimes I’m confused whether my place is on the road or pedestrian path. I often choose the last one, the safest one. And pedestrians don’t even mind to share the path, unlike in Amsterdam (mad people!). But if I go to the University Mall for example, I cycle on the main road, which really feels like a highway…! Scary to have these huge trucks riding next to me, but also very exciting, ‘cause I enjoy a liberating ride in a green environment.

CAMPUS ACTIVITIES
During the first weeks of school there are a lot of (free) activities in and around campus. Like this karaoke night! And if you’d bring your own bowl and spoon and had patience enough to stand in this really long que, you’d get free Ben & Jerry’s ice cream at the Fireplace Lounge! Vermont is Ben & Jerry’s paradise! I’ve been trying all the flavors this last week, like now: Chubby Hubby, ‘Fudge Covered Peanut Butter Filled Pretzels in Vanilla Malt Ice Cream with Fudge & Peanut Butter’!! OMG, indulging!!!

Free baseball game: Vermont Lake Monsters against…? I really enjoyed, not the game, but the whole scene. We arrived too late, but it didn’t matter. There seems to be no focus on the game itself, it’s a real family happening, with all kind of (kids) entertainments and announcements between the ‘matches’ (I didn’t really understand the rules). It’s really cute to see the kids getting on the field and play these little games. And they sing songs: God Bless America (we all did had to stand up)! And there was so much food (and ice cream)! And people bring their own chairs and seats, and blankets! It was a really cool experience!
There was also this comedy performance of N*W*C (Nigger Wetback Chink) about the position and (mis)perceiving of the largest minority groups in the States, Blacks, Hispanics and Asians. The two-hours act (!) was good and really funny, followed by the ‘Q&A’ (question and answer), which made the show distinctive, because it allowed discussion about this topic between the actors and audience, whom were mostly White.

A ‘cruise ship’ trip; for $5 (including food!) it took us around the lake. Good fun!

Arrival in Burlington, Vermont, United States

2006-08-29T11:32:00.000-07:00

The excitement about this trip made me exhausted, but couldn’t get me into sleep. Wednesday August 23, we left home 4.30am (!). It was like two years ago, on the airport with my dad, only this time he headed East, to Indonesia and my British Airways took off 7.20am.
London was a mess. At the screenings (many!) custom guarders warned us not to bring any liquids and cosmetics (not even lip balm!) and we had to take off our shoes… God… but I managed to bring my liquid eyeliner anyway, just playing neglected…
I flew back in time and arrived at JKF at 11 in the morning. At the customs I was asked what I intended to do in the States and that’s about it. I guess Muzio, as his nametag said, was pretty weary of all the questioning every time.
Then I had this premonition, which unfortunately was true: my cherished red backpack was not on the carrousel! It turned out that almost everybody who had a transit in London lost their luggage! I was lucky to have at least one suitcase found. A lot of luggage got stuck at Heathrow, so an amazing line was queuing at Lost Luggage to fill in forms. I was afraid I would miss my next flight, because JFK is huge! The hall I arrived was BA only. I had to go by fly train to get to the departure hall of Jet Blue, which was luckily just one stop away.

VERMONT… State of the Green Mountains, yes, I felt the difference right away. Small, friendly Burlington Airport, wooden interior, no ads on the wall but pictures of Vermont view instead. A professor from campus picked me up, we went to the drugstore and then to the Living/Learning Center, my residence for the upcoming year! I took a shower and went to the first meeting of the international students, PIZZA PARTY…. what else could it be…

From now on I’ll introduce the Oh-My-God-List I made of all the Oh My God shocking things I see around, capture and experience.

OMG1
Lots of pizzas….pfff… and all the big 2 lt bottles of soft drink. The most funniest thing were the cups… They were HUGE, I really have to get used to all the customary XXL sizes here.

INTERNATIONAL STUDENTS
The nearly 50 international students formed the biggest international group UVM have had. Chinese, Japanese, Romanian, Hungarian, Bulgarian, Swedish, English, German, Spanish, Croatian, Mexican, Canadian, Korean, Belarusian, Nicaraguan, Argentinean, French, Australian, Swiss, Austrian; all were represented. Yvonne and I were the only two from the Netherlands, and she’s from Utrecht University as well.

HOUSING
I’ve applied to Making the Mark House which means yu’ll get involved with all kind of programs concerning art, drawing, painting and stuff. At the application form I’ve emphasized how badly I wanted to live in that house, since drawing is my first passion. But somehow they placed me as ‘unprogrammed’ in the Anime Art House… ☹ Yes, I am really sad, because there’s this other international guy who didn’t had any preferences in the programs but he got into Making the Art House! I’m pretty mad about it, because it’s kind of unfair. I’ve seen his suite and it’s wonderful! Art is just all over the place! The walls, paintings and stuff… Oh, that should’ve been my home! I can still participate into their programs, but I just really want to live there. Besides; I got a horrible view from the window in my current room and sunshine hardly reaches my place to lighten it up a bit.
So I’m not satisfied with my room and I’m going to try to change it. The first two days I was all-alone; in the room and in the entire suite (one common living room and four rooms, some double, other single occupied, and two bathrooms –which are newly renovated, thus clean!), while other internationals shared rooms or suites with each other or locals. I really felt lonely, because I had nothing; no TV, no music (no mp3 and the batteries of my laptop ran out after the first night, and my charger is in my backpack), no friends. Up till now I haven’t stayed in my room over half an hour, because I just don’t like it. I haven’t personalized it because I’m planning to leave anyway.
Friday morning my roommate arrived. Ellen Anne Simpson… Yup, a real loca freshmen! Sunday morning other junior students arrived, and the guy next to me plays guitar and chello (though not very good yet!!). The suite is more livable now with all the Japanese anime drawings on the walls, but I still don’t feel at total ease.

OMG2
The first days we had a lot of FORMS to fill in. Name, address, blabla… But you know what box no 5 of the social security form asked for? Race/ethnicity!!!
1) Asian, Asian-American, Pacific Islander
2) Hispanic
3) Native American
4) Black (non Hispanic)
5) White (non Hispanic)
The question was optional, but still…!!! How could they divide human kind into these five categories? Ehm, Arab? Persian? Ehm, so much more? As an anthropologist, and as a person, I was pretty shocked by this question.

OMG3
Everyone is TOO FRIENDLY over here, anytime! I appear too rude compare to them. Drivers? They stop for every pedestrian everywhere, anytime! In Amsterdam they won’t even stop for yu at the pedestrian crossover, but here, when I intended to crossover, hesitating along the MIDDLE of the main street, the driver just stopped for me! They even stop when it’s red, for me!

AMERICAN LIFE
This is my first time to the States, I’ve only known it from TV, commercials and video clips… but it’s all true. What I saw was what I got. The HUGE TRUCKS, pick-up cars (there are Eat Cha cars everywhere Mel & Ari!), grocery stores, porches, everything. I feel like I’m at a big movie set, just like in Warner Brothers Movie World. I still cannot believe I’m actually in the States, because yu know what this place reminds me of? Brisbane. The cute wooden New English houses, the streets, the shops, and also because there are not many Afro-Americans… just Brisbane. It’s only when people start talking I realize; I’m in America dude!

Please check out more pictures at http://www.pixum.nl/viewalbum/?id=2235304