Sawah Chillin'

Yesterday I got the chance to join my host father (bapak) and other farmers in the rice paddies. I rode my bike following my bapak for about 3 miles and we got to miles and miles upon rice fields. We thought it might rain so we were waiting to see whether we would begin or not, but it didn’t so we took another alternative route that took us to the other side of those same rice fields passed in between two large paddies and a river lined with these tan colored ducks that were a strange blend with either a goose or a swan because they had some sort of sleek elegance to them I had never seen before, but they were definitely ducks.  

We parked our bikes in the brush and started walking on the mud platform into the field and I could see a farmer in each section of paddy whacking away at rice stocks. We passed a lady, who was cutting only the stem holding the rice grain, one at a time and she was doing it so seamlessly I didn’t even notice the blade in her hand that was doing the work. We walked further into the field and my bapak showed me how the farmers cut the stocks of rice and piled them together. He told me it was dangerous with the scythe because that’s how he cut off his pinky finger and showed me. I kept saying that I wanted to join the other farmers and learn how to cut as well and if I lose my pinky too then that’s also an experience. At first, very reluctantly my bapak handed me the scythe and demonstrated the proper distance and way to cut the stock. Afraid I would meet a similar fate as his he would cringe a little every time I cut another stock. After the first 10 rows, I was starting to get the hang of it and he was more relaxed and took as many pictures on his phone as possible because when else would anyone see a foreigner covered knee deep in mud, scythe in one hand and stocks in the other. There are crazy things that live deep in the mud of the rice paddies anything from leeches, rove beetles, jumpy spiders and that’s what I saw for the most part (Later I found out that there are also snakes and an eel like creature that bites). Everyone wears long sleeve shirts and long pants and at first I thought they were adamant about that in the rice paddy because of modesty too, but it’s more so because the rove beetles secrete toxins when they feel threatened and it makes your skin that is exposed very itchy. Every time I cut a stock, I would see a bunch of scared bugs scurry, it made me feel like I was bulldozing their penthouse. I don’t like bugs in my room, but if they’re outside I don’t mind them and I felt like I was intruding a little bit. I think that’s when I know that Indonesia is slowly desensitizing me to certain things, because I’m also beginning to feel guilty every time I kill a cockroach or four in my bathroom and send them washed away down the drain and begin to wonder whether the other cockroaches have some sort of funeral for the ones I just sent back in pieces because then it will be a few days until the next plague. Anyway, back to the rice paddy.

I would cut the stock and throw them into a pile, but I haven’t quite refined the art of farming. The closest I had ever come to farming was passing by wheat fields in New Jersey. They are so fast, precise and methodical with how they do everything in the fields that it all looked uniform and then there was my patch of land with these ugly piles that were falling apart and uneven. It was pretty funny just to see the difference. My light pink pants (don’t ask, they are my mom’s) had now faded from the top to a nice wet brown from the knee down. My feet would sink deep and feel heavy but I finally felt like I was able to get something done today and not only learn but contribute to my community. 

I came to school today and the teachers were telling me of the dangerous things that lurk in the rice paddies and that they were all very surprised that I joined because many of them have yet to help in the fields. In Peace Corps, it's hard to feel like you're accomplishing something, because not much is tangible here and much of our impact won't be seen for years after we have gone but for me working in that rice paddy I had accomplished something for myself and I was able to show my friends, family and community that Americans or at least this American is interested in their lives and not afraid to get dirty.

Sawah- rice paddy in Bahasa Indonesia