Showing posts with label Personal Experiences. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal Experiences. Show all posts

Friday, February 16, 2007

Festival Budaya

By Gisele Henriques



On December 22 I received a text message from Sunspirit, a national NGO working in Meulaboh, about a cultural festival happening in Bubon District — “Festival Budaya.” In the four months I’d been living in Meulaboh I hadn’t attended a single cultural event and I knew I couldn’t miss this opportunity. Immediately I agreed and rode all the way to Peulanteu village (Bubon District) on the back of the Sunspirit moto. I had no idea what was awaiting me, but I had a grin from ear to ear in anticipation.

As we pulled up to the village I saw crowds gathering. Suddenly, the moto became trapped in a rush of people trying to fit into a narrow little street. I peered from the top of the moto to see what was holding up the flow. It was a huge open back truck loaded with little girls dressed in gold and red with flowers hanging from their hair. I realized I was in for a treat; this was really a festival. I later learned that it was the first of its kind in the area in thirty years.

This “Festival Budaya” was organized by Sunspirit in an effort to revive the rich cultural heritage of Aceh as a means for building peace and reconciliation. Sunspirit is a Jakarta based NGO run by activists who, moved by the tsunami disaster, decided to open an office in Aceh. Their focus is organic agriculture. The project in Bubon aims to build peace through livelihoods initiatives. They organize farmers in the post-conflict zone to improve agricultural production and believe the best way to keep the peace is to ensure that people are able to meet their basic needs so they don’t have to resort to violence.

The three day festival (I was only privy to day one) brought together the twenty villages participating in the Sunspirit projects. People of all ages—all with varied cultural expressions—performed. The opening act was a series of masks which, according to my source, pre-dates Islam in Aceh and represents the sprit of the forest.

My favorite performance was the fisherman dance. In this dance a group of men sat shoulder to shoulder and swayed back and forth to the rhythms of Islamic chanting and a solitary drum. At first their sway was slow, then the pace quickened and they swooshed back and forth as if imitating the ebb and flow of the ocean. Every movement was coordinated precisely. Watching this expression of their connection to the sea was deeply moving, especially given the reason why many of us are in Aceh.

I asked how the location was selected and it turns out Peulanteu village was a center of GAM activity. The villagers selected the site in full consciousness of that fact, as if wanting to accentuate some truth about their freedom to choose and their vision for peace in practice. As if in choosing a major GAM stronghold to celebrate the first cultural festival of its kind in thirty years they were making a political statement; which was soon affirmed by the election results.
Throughout the night I couldn’t help but wonder why it had been so many years since Aceh had a cultural festival like this. Suddenly, the tremendous impact of the conflict and the fear it instilled in so many became clear to me. Fear has a way of working itself into the most mundane aspects of life: fear to gather, fear to express oneself and fear to attract attention.

I left at midnight overwhelmed and amazed by the richness of Aceh’s cultural expressions— a culture that had somehow eluded me, even though I had been living here all this time.

To find out more about Sunspirit, email them at forjusticeandpeace@gmail.com

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

The Story of a Dark Brew: Tall Tale or Total Truth?

By Philip Visser


When arriving in Indonesia a few short years ago I was asked – in a lowered tone as if sharing a secret, “Have you ever tasted the coffee from Aceh?” “No, why?” I inquired. “They put stuff in the coffee,” and even softer, “you know….” I smiled good-naturedly, and dismissed it as another tall tale from a land of mystique. But my intrigue grew as the rumor persisted between islands I visited – Kupang, Sumba, Roti, Flores, Bali, Java…..

As it turned out I came to work in Aceh – the source of the coffee rumor. I simply had to find out – was this urban legend or perhaps a totally true story backed by years of culinary tradition? Perhaps you, the reader, have been equally curious about this possibility. More often than not my foreign friends have spoken very convincingly that after that nice cup of kopi Aceh they feel a little light in the head, “I swear man, it does something to you.”

A few Sunday mornings ago I went to the local Ulee Kareeng coffee shop – the one where the activists, local politicians and journalists hang out at night – for coffee and sweet cakes. A friend joined me and, as it often does, the conversation turned to life and culture of Aceh. This was the day I decided to put the rumor about the coffee to rest. My friend called the owner over and he sat down next to us. In a somewhat hushed tone my friend inquired whether the very cup of kopi Aceh we were drinking had anything special in it. “No,” was the answer. “Oh,” I said a little deflated. At least I finally learned that it’s not standard practice for every cup of coffee. “But,” our host, turned guide said, “if you go out on the road toward the airport, there you will find the real thing.”

We jumped in my friend’s van to explore the myth of the dark brew. Meanwhile, my friend elaborated on this intriguing practice. “There are essentially two methods – in the water and in the coffee itself. In the water method the seeds are wrapped in the coffee cloth and steeped in the boiling water. In the coffee method the seeds are mixed with the coffee grinds. “How do you know all this?” I asked. “From my brother,” he says. “He used to run our family coffee shop.”

We got there – a small unimpressive place with broken beams and drooping alang-alang grass for roof cover. It was anything but buzzing (no pun intended), with only two guys hanging out. My friend talked while I got the looks. “We have been invited to a party,” he announced.

Not far away we found a small gathering of villagers eating kari kambing in celebration of housing construction that was to start the next day. Introductions followed and we met the prominent geuchik (head of village). Once the formalities were over and the food was finished the small talk continued. “Okay, let’s go,” my friend announced. He and I followed our new geuchik friend. “I stuck it to him,” my friend whispered with a smile. “I told him you don’t believe the story of the coffee.” Our new friend got into his car and led us straight back to the same coffee shop we had just visited.

We settled down and soon the dark brew in the little glass cup with the familiar 3 scoops of sugar in the bottom was served. The geuchik winked at me and we lifted glasses in celebration of life and myth. I took the first sip carefully, perhaps gingerly, tasting the mysteries and pleasures of the sweet stuff of life. Different – not so sure - another sip – mmmm – maybe the after-taste lingered a bit strangely on the taste buds. I checked my head as the cup went down for any unfamiliar buzzing sounds or sensations. I thought I detected something, but after all this was my third cup of kopi Aceh this morning.

Between sips of dark liquid I heard stories of expats learning and practicing Bahasa Indonesia – the guy who asked his driver to come back at 4:00 and four hours later his driver finally came back. Jokes were told of expats and locals alike who try to master each others language – and good natured laughter when the efforts produce off-beat results - same sound, totally different meaning. More stories, more coffee….

I noticed that my tongue started to feel a bit thick in my mouth. I rolled it against my upper teeth – it felt weird – but then maybe it was just burned from my eagerness to taste the hot brew. Coffee was served and conversation, laughter, discussion, and stories flowed. The conversation did appear to float away that day, gaining a far off-quality. The nearby road with buzzing cars and motor bikes and trucks took on a tranquil and distant feeling - but maybe the feeling was created by the low hanging alang alang grass roof of the coffee shop.

When we left I had this strange feeling of happiness – was it the coffee or simply because of the new friends I made? Minta satu lagi kopi Aceh, Pak.

Saturday, October 7, 2006

Discovering Business at an Early Age

By Susan Okle

A few days ago a good friend gave me a box filled with bags of school supplies and asked me to distribute them amongst the kids in my neighborhood. So I did; and I told the ones who came to my house to bring their friends, too. Every few minutes there was a knock on my front door and a child asking for a bag of school supplies. I soon learned to tell them that I can’t give them five bags for all their sisters and brothers, but that they’re all welcome to receive one. I also had to tell them that five month old babies don’t really need school supplies when they turned up with their baby sisters and brothers.

But what really amazed me was the following incident. One boy, about 13 years old, escorted a little girl to my house so she could also get a bag of school supplies. Soon after she received it, she discreetly handed him something that was held tightly in her hand.

When she left I asked the boy what she gave him, but he didn’t want to tell me. I insisted, and finally he opened his hand. It was a 500 Rupiah coin! Suspicious, I asked him what the money was for. He explained that earlier he gave the little girl some marbles and that the money was his payment for them. Nice try! I told him straight away what I suspected: that he could show her the “bulĂ©-house” where she could get school supplies for free, but she had to pay him for the information. He denied it, but the other neighborhood kids confirmed my theory. And by the guilty look on his face, I knew I was right.

What can I say? You have to start early to learn the rules of making business…