More pictures

Taken from the high points around the school.  There are some of the mountains that are all around Garut.

I have been told I don't have enough pictures on my blog. Here are some.

Garut

The above are from an afternoon trip my buddy, Goz, took me on to see a Hindu Temple not too far from Garut.

On June 15, 2014 I was invited by one of the MAN1 teachers to visit a waterfall. “Take your bathing suit.” After a ride in an Anglot and a rather long walk, I was taken to a Chevron sponsored youth center here in Garut. Indonesia has a stipulation with companies who take energy out of Indonesia that they should put a percentage of their profits back into the communities from which they take the energy.  Garut has hot springs that Chevron uses to produce some kinda energy so Chevron sponsors a youth center. I met perhaps 25 high school students who get homework help and encouragement to do well in high school so they can go on to university.

The MAN1 teacher who invited me to the waterfall does some volunteer tutoring there, as does the math teacher son of my host family. I met the man in charge of the day to day running of the place as well as the director.

I was particularly impressed with the director. He told me how he was going to San Francisco and Washington, D.C. for yet another conference later that month. He said that he really enjoyed both of those cities every time he went.

A short time later, but still June, the day to day guy showed up at my door. “What days can we say you will come to the center to teach English?”

“It’s June. I don’t know my teaching schedule yet.  School doesn’t start until August. I have no idea how much free time I will have once school starts.”

“On the days you can each with us, we will send a motorcycle to take you to the center.”

“Thank you but, I’m sorry.  My organization forbids me to ride motorcycles for safety reasons.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  We are a poor organization with very little money. I’m afraid we cannot afford to pay you or to pay to get you to the center by public transportation.”

The ticket on the Angkot costs about U.S. $0.16. (Sixteen cents)

“I cannot accept payment for any reason. Money is not a problem but, please,” I asked, “I am still new in Garut. There is no activity at my school during the vacation time. Could you and/or some of the students come to take me for a walk around town, show me something of Garut, sit and talk to me, play a game with me, anything just to get to know you.”

“Sure, Mr. Jay.”

About the middle of July the same guy called me. “Can you tell me the exact name of your organization? We want to put it in out literature.”

“I am a Peace Corps Volunteer. Remember, I do not yet know if my teaching schedule at my school will permit me to teach with you. And, PLEASE,” I begged, “Don’t leave me here alone with nothing to do and no one to do it with. Come for a cup of coffee, a walk around town, a visit with the fish in my pond – anything.”

“Can you spell ‘Peace Corps’ for me, please?”

I did not hear from anyone from this group until tonight, August 20, 2014. Mr. Day to Day showed up at my door.

“Hello, Mr. Jay. Can you tell me if you will be teaching with us? Will it be two or three times a week?”

“I’m very well. Thank you for asking.” (He didn’t.) “Peace Corps is a partnership between the American and Indonesian people. I invited you to be friends with me and got no response.  Now you come to ask me to work for you. I do not see this as a partnership since nothing has come from you.  I will not be teaching with your organization.”

Long pause. Eyes locked.

“May I give you some advice? Do not tell prospective teachers that you have no money to pay for their public transportation to your center after your director has told them about his many visits to San Francisco, one of the most expensive cities in the U.S., and Washington, D.C., the most expensive city in the U.S."

“I’m sorry about that. We start teaching at 4:00 p.m. What days shall we expect you?”

“I will not be teaching at your center. Thank you for coming.” I stood and shook his hand. He stood and left.

I’m surprised at my boldness. I’m surprised I don’t feel ashamed of myself. I’m surprised I turned down a chance to do something. I’m surprised I wasn’t ruder considering I have not at all felt welcome or appreciated here neither by my school nor my community.

I suppose I should get out my suitcases and check for mold.

I bought a bike. It folds in half.  It's blue and had 7 speeds.  I don't care one bit about it.  PC wanted me to by one.  I bought one. It took me 9 weeks to get the help I needed to buy the fool thing.  Other PCVs bought theirs on the way to their sites. 

Two teachers took me to the shop where one of them had found the best bike for the right price. Not to get off topic, the guy who found the bike for me,Gozem, has been the most helpful friendly of all the teachers.  He teaches Sociology.

Anyway, we got back from the shopping trip during the morning recess so all the teachers were in the teachers' room. One minute of talk about my new bike then one of the teachers asked me how I was feeling. I said "fine." I decided against mentioning my little stomach problems which have persisted for the third day. I was then asked if I had eaten Jengkol the other day. 

3 days ago a few of the teachers treated everyone to lunch. There was something about these teachers getting 6 month of back pay or getting 6 months of a pay increase all at once. Flush with cash, they treated everyone to lunch. They served rice ( of course ), chicken, hot sauce, perhaps a couple of other things I forget and Jengkol. I was told that Jengkol was a real treat as it is slightly expensive and hard to find. It was sliced into disks and cooked in a kinda brown sauce. The disks were about an inch around and tasted a bit like potato. 

NOW they tell me that a couple of the other teachers are having stomach problems accompanied by gas. I Googled Jengkol. It's name in English is "Dog Fruit." It sometimes causes digestive problems since it is slightly toxic. Google it yourself for the full effect. I read out ( in English ) what I found on the net. "Yea," said I. "I have had some digestive problems. So now I understand the reason."  Laughter.  LAUGHTER! Kidding - I said, "If you want to get rid of me, I can go home.  There's no need to poison me."Now guys (remember: it's the 'men teachers' room) are doubled over with laughter. This is the most fun of the school year so far. 

I haven't yet found online how long I can expect the side effects of Jengkol to last.  I will probably live. I'm kinda happy I gave the men something laugh about.

Kite Flyers

Kids of various ages fly kits every afternoon. It’s kinda fun to watch.  I have counted as many as 25 of the things flying high above Garut.

There are kite eating trees and wires everywhere. I often see string hanging. Perhaps it is the old Peace Corps mentality I have that makes me wind up the strings I find. I have no use for these bundles of different colored string and fishing line.  I just roll them up and save them.

Today I discovered why I collect them. I was the first teacher to get to the school today.  I thought there was to be a meeting of English teachers. I guess I was wrong. I’m told school is to start tomorrow so perhaps tomorrow I will meet my counterparts and learn what classes they teach.  There’s time. As I was standing in front of the door to the men teachers’ room waiting for the guard to get the key, I looked across the courtyard at one of the big trees there. High up in a branch was a big white owl. The poor bird was tangled in kite wire, dead. The guard got the owl out of the tree after he opened the door for me. Now I know why I can’t leave string in trees.

I probably wouldn’t be so upset if I hadn’t read through all the Harry Potter books during Ramadan.

I have been the most forward foreigner I ever thought I would be. I’ve asked more questions than one foreigner ought to ask. I’ve tried to get myself included in all kinds of activities. I have not been as successful as I wish.

I have been here in Garut, West Java for two months now.  It took six week of pestering to find out who my counterpart(s) were going to be. The afternoon that question got answered I started asking what classes I would teach and their days and times.  The day after not getting answers to those questions the school went on a two week vacation.  No teachers have been here.  I’ve checked - every morning and afternoon.

A month ago I asked the men teachers with whom I share an office, if there was even one teacher with enough civic pride to show foreign me the ins and outs of Garut, point out some point of natural, civic or religious interest, or include me in some family Ramadan activity. It was suggested that I take myself to the local office of The Ministry of Islamic Education and was told what public transportation I could use to get myself there. This is not what I had in mind.  However the nest day three teachers took me to a Hindu temple on the outskirts of Garut. We had the evening meal (breakfast for them, dinner for me) at the home of one of the three.  It was a very nice outing.

The third week of Ramadan was a week of orientation for new students at my school. I met many of the 960 students.  I gave a speach to the new 10^th graders in both Bahasa Indonesia and English. I taught a class for the students in the student government. (I was told to expect between 30 and 50 students but only three came.) At the end of that week, looking at two more weeks of no school and no teachers around, I told the teachers in my office that if I had to spend two more weeks alone with nothing to do I would go home. Tomorrow will be two weeks exactly since I said that. I have not seen or heard from another teacher or administrator.

I got a call from a PCV saying there were 8 PCVs at the beach about 4 hours south of me.  I should come down. They were going to stay until the next day. The day I got the call was a “STAYFAST” day.  The national presidential election results were to be announced and all PCVs were to stay where they were and not use public transportation considering the chance that there would be some kinda civic unrest. I don’t know how long the 8 had been at the beach or how far ahead they had planned to go. I felt like an afterthought that wasn’t thought through.

I asked my host family to include me in their after Ramadan activities and visits.  Ramadan ended 3 days ago. The two day celebration ended yesterday. Either they didn’t have any after Ramadan celebrations or they forgot to include me.

Yesterday, July 30, I wrote the man in charge of us PCVs in West Java telling him about what all was not going on, how I was feeling and my thinking of going home.  I got an automated reply that he was out of the office until July 10.

What I think will probably happen is this: One of the teachers will call today or tomorrow and invite me to do something OR the PC guy in charge will call or write telling me hold up till school starts next week when more teachers and all the students will be back on campus AND I will say “Sure” and stay. But I gotta tell ya, my heart ain’t in it.

I went through more than a year of application processing so that I could do Peace Corps for the third time at the start of my retirement.  I spent three months of what was for me very difficult language training so I would be able to talk to Indonesians. I’ve spent the last two months doing nothing and speaking to hardly anyone.

An earlier suggestion from my PC guy was for me to take myself two hours north to Bandung for a couple of days. I’ve wandered around big cities alone all over the world. I don’t think it’s a wise move to wander around alone now that I have grey hair. Thinking of self-security, an old  foreign man alone lost is a big city seems like a target to me. During training we talked a lot about not putting ourselves  into situations where we might be at risk.

Do you ever get a song stuck in your head?  For the last week or so I have had one that’s driving me crazy. I don’t know the title and only remember two lines of the song. “Winners never quit and quitters never win. So, let the sun shine in. Face it with a grin.” I hate that song. Although, it has gotten me through some nasty times that ended up being good adventures.’’

Today is Thursday.  School starts Monday. I am supposed to observe for the first two weeks then start co-teaching with my two counterparts. I know I will be teaching eleventh grade English but I don’t know how many classes or what days of the week I will teach. I suppose I could give the place two weeks more to see what’s what but that’s cutting it a little close to the time someone will move into my house in Beaver.

I’m not 100% sure what I am going to do. 

I missed taking the Peace Corps Calender picture of the month tonight.
Here in Garut, West Java, the closest things we have to taxis are horse drawn carriages. I was out standing on the street at the entrance to my pond when one of these carriages went by. It was empty, no passengers, just the driver.  He was texting on his cell phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face.