America, God shed His Grace on thee
Before I get to my visit to America. Let me fill everyone in on the past few months during my second semester. Dengue was probably one of the biggest blessings in disguise that I could have asked for. Post dengue, I was determined to be more proactive and begin acting on things I had wanted to get done at my site but was too nice to ask. Such as basic amenities like a fan or a closet. I've been sincerely blessed with some pretty amazing people in the midst of my Peace Corps service, most of whom I have met only this past semester and others have been friendships that have flourished and grown in loyalty since I arrived in my village. I had become so accustomed to my daily life in Indonesia I forgot how different it really is and how much we as Peace Corps Volunteers really do sacrifice and adapt parts of ourselves even unintentionally over the course of time just in simple mannerisms and cultural nuances.
This past semester after I had dengue, I returned just in time to accompany my students for an English Competition at a local university. Before I had dengue, I was the one preparing them for their respective speeches but after I had fallen ill my other Indonesian counterparts at school stepped up and shared responsibility. That was a great thing, I've been waiting for more teachers to be motivated in that sense but there are always different factors I fail to keep in mind (such as money). This is simply realistic, when you're just a teacher and not in the status of a civil servant of the government your salary is dependent upon the school and how many hours of teaching you are assigned. Most 'private' teachers will receive an average of $20/month for their salary to take care of their children and families. So it makes sense that certain decisions are money oriented, another issue is that teaching is becoming a popular profession. When I ask some Indonesian teachers why they became teachers more often than not their answer is that my parents told me to do it. On the other hand, there are also teachers who are called to be educators and have a true passion for their work and their students.
The reasons why I chose to be a PCV and spend 2 years of my life in Indonesia was because I have a strong commitment to service and I chose not to go the military route but I still wanted to serve my country and fulfill this role that has been engrained throughout my education of being a global citizen.
At a very young age, I began to understand simply through my birthright the opportunities that were given to me as an American. I grew up with so many cultures around me that it seemed normal to me that my family lives in London, Germany, Sri Lanka and Australia. It seemed like home to hang out in United Nations Plaza every take your daughter to work day and grow up in a household of 2 languages and depending on the company 3 languages (English, German, Sinhalese). It wasn't until 9/11 and most of my teen years that I really experienced racism and the stigmas that came with my brown skin. New York and America has come a long way since then in my opinion, 9/11 still haunts me until this day but 9/11 opened my eyes it also forced us as a nation to be more educated about the Middle East, Islam as a religion and to be more aware of our international presence as Americans (or perhaps this is just from my experience).
This course of events in my life left me with an urge to return to developing nations and try my best to understand and empathize with other cultures around the world. I have a privilege to live in Indonesia and be welcomed by my community and call a village 10,000 miles away my home. I'm at a point in my peace corps service and cross-cultural experience where what I'm recognizing and experiencing in my village and daily interactions is no longer Indonesian vs. American but simply what it means to be human. Small towns vs. big cities, educated vs. uneducated, close-minded vs. open-minded, modest vs. luxurious. When we get to this point, it's no longer a time where we notice everything which would be considered a novelty of Indonesian culture.
Most Indonesians are so convinced I couldn't possibly be American and I tend to get too integrated to a point where I think a part of me believes those around me. My family and friends are so used to me being away and out of the US that keeping in touch isn't a daily, weekly or even monthly endeavor. Sometimes it's every few months, bi-annually, annually and in some instances every few years. That doesn't devalue my relationships with them, but when you're abroad that absence of interaction is felt more strongly than before. It'd difficult to simply live in the present especially when you're abroad if you still have a foot in the past and fixated on the life you used to have in the states. So that's what I've been doing. I've been living in my Indonesian world, so much so that a part of me almost forgot that I had a life in America, that I have people who care about me, people who REALLY know and understand me without my having to explain every detail of my history because they were present for it, they were a witness to my existence and my being.
I'm grateful to my parents above all for starting their life and raising our family in America. America gave me an education, it taught me values, it gave me freedom, it showed me firsthand what it means when we say "the American dream". The American Dream is not something handed to you, Americans fight for their rights and stand up for what they believe in and we work harder than anyone else I know when we want to make our place in the world because it's not easy.
This past month of being in America truly has been one of reflection. I've spent 15 months in Indonesia and now it's hard to believe I have less than a year left in my Peace Corps service. I was able to see my family and I think that's one of the harder parts is saying good-bye to them each time I leave. This next year is for you, America.
This past semester after I had dengue, I returned just in time to accompany my students for an English Competition at a local university. Before I had dengue, I was the one preparing them for their respective speeches but after I had fallen ill my other Indonesian counterparts at school stepped up and shared responsibility. That was a great thing, I've been waiting for more teachers to be motivated in that sense but there are always different factors I fail to keep in mind (such as money). This is simply realistic, when you're just a teacher and not in the status of a civil servant of the government your salary is dependent upon the school and how many hours of teaching you are assigned. Most 'private' teachers will receive an average of $20/month for their salary to take care of their children and families. So it makes sense that certain decisions are money oriented, another issue is that teaching is becoming a popular profession. When I ask some Indonesian teachers why they became teachers more often than not their answer is that my parents told me to do it. On the other hand, there are also teachers who are called to be educators and have a true passion for their work and their students.
The reasons why I chose to be a PCV and spend 2 years of my life in Indonesia was because I have a strong commitment to service and I chose not to go the military route but I still wanted to serve my country and fulfill this role that has been engrained throughout my education of being a global citizen.
At a very young age, I began to understand simply through my birthright the opportunities that were given to me as an American. I grew up with so many cultures around me that it seemed normal to me that my family lives in London, Germany, Sri Lanka and Australia. It seemed like home to hang out in United Nations Plaza every take your daughter to work day and grow up in a household of 2 languages and depending on the company 3 languages (English, German, Sinhalese). It wasn't until 9/11 and most of my teen years that I really experienced racism and the stigmas that came with my brown skin. New York and America has come a long way since then in my opinion, 9/11 still haunts me until this day but 9/11 opened my eyes it also forced us as a nation to be more educated about the Middle East, Islam as a religion and to be more aware of our international presence as Americans (or perhaps this is just from my experience).
This course of events in my life left me with an urge to return to developing nations and try my best to understand and empathize with other cultures around the world. I have a privilege to live in Indonesia and be welcomed by my community and call a village 10,000 miles away my home. I'm at a point in my peace corps service and cross-cultural experience where what I'm recognizing and experiencing in my village and daily interactions is no longer Indonesian vs. American but simply what it means to be human. Small towns vs. big cities, educated vs. uneducated, close-minded vs. open-minded, modest vs. luxurious. When we get to this point, it's no longer a time where we notice everything which would be considered a novelty of Indonesian culture.
Most Indonesians are so convinced I couldn't possibly be American and I tend to get too integrated to a point where I think a part of me believes those around me. My family and friends are so used to me being away and out of the US that keeping in touch isn't a daily, weekly or even monthly endeavor. Sometimes it's every few months, bi-annually, annually and in some instances every few years. That doesn't devalue my relationships with them, but when you're abroad that absence of interaction is felt more strongly than before. It'd difficult to simply live in the present especially when you're abroad if you still have a foot in the past and fixated on the life you used to have in the states. So that's what I've been doing. I've been living in my Indonesian world, so much so that a part of me almost forgot that I had a life in America, that I have people who care about me, people who REALLY know and understand me without my having to explain every detail of my history because they were present for it, they were a witness to my existence and my being.
I'm grateful to my parents above all for starting their life and raising our family in America. America gave me an education, it taught me values, it gave me freedom, it showed me firsthand what it means when we say "the American dream". The American Dream is not something handed to you, Americans fight for their rights and stand up for what they believe in and we work harder than anyone else I know when we want to make our place in the world because it's not easy.
This past month of being in America truly has been one of reflection. I've spent 15 months in Indonesia and now it's hard to believe I have less than a year left in my Peace Corps service. I was able to see my family and I think that's one of the harder parts is saying good-bye to them each time I leave. This next year is for you, America.
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