What's Next?

As soon as I got back from Indonesia – before I even left, really – I began plotting my next steps. This time, I want to go big. I have to do it, and I have to soon. Pressure has been mounting for me to pursue a career, more education, or something like it that follows a traditional understanding of life. My parents, poor souls, seem like they’re in a panic that instead I’m wandering, somewhat aimlessly, along an undefined, somewhat erratic path (my living at home probably exacerbates this).

Admittedly, I’m pretty terrified, too. I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life. In the back of my mind, there’s a nebulous sense of wanting to make the world better. But what the hell does that mean? Nothing, if you have no cause to rally around, no issue to support, no fight to call your own. Lately I’ve just been scared into making sure I don’t make things worse.

All I have is a general set of skills and well-rounded knowledge thanks to a liberal arts education. I can do everything, and yet I can do nothing. I’m stuck at a vertiginous crossroads, but something in my soul tells me it’s not time to “settle down” for a “normal” life. Not yet at least.

So, I’m choosing a direction that will surely take me somewhere:

I will attempt to bike around the world.

 That’s the only definite, and that’s all that ever should be. The rest will be up to improvisation, luck, spontaneity and circumstance. What’s beautiful and exciting about the concept is that I can go anywhere at my own time, taking the path that feels right. I won’t have to abide by the rules of an itinerary.

It’s not an (entirely) impulsive move. I’ve had it in the back of my mind for years, and have seriously pondered it for the past few months. The negative consequences of me going are slim to none. The benefits: astronomical. I’m pursuing this, simply put, because I want to. There is too much to see and learn from the world to stay in one spot.

Most importantly, this is not a revolutionary idea. Lots of people have been as lost as I am, and have completed this odyssey. I can do it, and I am not alone.

Last year, right before leaving for Chile, I found this article by Gregory Banecker in the Philadelphia Inquirer travel section that discusses the joy of journeying into the unknown. Many people fear darkness, an easy metaphor for the unfamiliar or unorthodox. Instead, we should embrace it, because that is where we make the greatest discoveries. In his conclusion, Banecker drives home his point that “what’s important is that we don’t really know what we’ll see, whom we’ll meet, or what will happen.” That’s the beauty of travel, exploration, and pushing our limits.

I immediately cut out the article and pinned it to the giant map in my room. It reminds me every time I come home to keep this existential crisis of mine in check, and that instead of panicking, to use it to my advantage. Now the article hangs next to the full group picture from Indonesia, an embodiment of the profound, unexpected beauty that we can only discover outside our comfort zone.

A round-the-world bike trip feels like the natural next step. There is no better time for me to do it than at this stage of life. I can do it; I want to do it; now I just have work up the nerve to follow through. Maybe I won’t get around the world. Maybe I won’t even get through one country. The point is that I will go, and will challenge everything about myself. 

This Earth of Mankind

One of my favorite activities that I rediscovered after graduated was reading for pleasure. I fully subscribe to the clichés about books bringing us to new, exciting worlds and helping us discover our own selves more deeply. That said, much like movies, most books only provide temporary entertainment, lacking any noticeable imprint in our minds. At least, rarely much beyond a vague “like” or “dislike” in the back of our minds.

Every once in awhile, however, we come across a work that not only lingers in our conscience, but occupies it. We learn something profound or even gain a new perspective on an old topic. Most importantly, art like this can inspire and set an entirely new tone in life.

I came across one such book in Surabaya. It’s an Indonesian novel titled “This Earth of Mankind” by Pramoedya Ananta Toer. It decries the extreme injustices of Dutch colonialism in Nusantara (the Indonesian archipelago). Even as a translated story about a late 19^th century Dutch colony, the book so eloquently and emotionally calls attention to almost universal societal issues such as the evils of imperialism (in any form), institutional racism, women’s rights, sensationalist media and oppression in general (government as well as social).

While Toer’s main focus is the hopelessness against and injustice by the colonial power, I also picked out a slight glimmer of hope in the text through his emphasis on literary activism. The book itself is an example of such, speaking out against oppression and societal issues that persisted even after colonial rule.

I have a particularly strong faith in the power of words. They run society. Depending on which ones we choose, and how we use them, we can create or destroy anything, tangible or not. Therefore, as words easily serve evil, they just as readily support good. People with superior control of their language can and should use it to improve society.

Toer shares my belief, and shows it by emphasizing the control words have over the forces of society. Language becomes far more potent than physical force. The metaphorical battles in the story take place in the form of debates, law, and newspapers, all of which rely on carefully crafted statements that can properly undermine the opponents’. Minke, the protagonist, embodies this message, portraying writing as an honorable and necessary method in effecting positive social change.

 Reading this rekindled a recently dormant passion for my own self to be influential through writing. I consider it one of my strongest, albeit still unrefined, skills. Despite the soul-crushing end (heads up), I still felt energized and ready to use this powerful tool in my own way.

What will I do with it? No idea. I’m still in the stages of lofty idealism, grasping for ideas and direction. When I find something, I’ll know.

In the meantime, read the book. You won’t be disappointed. 

Semangat

To follow up the more frustrated feelings of my final week, I am rewinding to our final weekend prior to the Indonesia Channel rehearsals. This is to serve as a reminder that, while there was a lot of frustration, the vast majority of the program was exciting and inspiring.

Banyuwangi embodies those sentiments.

The energy in that town is a unique force of contagious happiness. It seems like everybody smiles with their entire body. Despite being financially one of the poorest sections of Java (many people live on only $100 a month) it is culturally and emotionally one of the richest places I’ve been to. The population relishes its heritage, celebrating it with style and panache, sharing with anybody who wants to join.

Therefore, the regency’s government invited us back for the Banyuwangi Ethno Carnival. They hosted us for two days and we got to march in their main parade wearing traditional costumes.

That day was one of searing heat and vibrant colors. Our group was fortunate to only have to march about 300 meters before sitting in the shady VIP section (I don’t understand why things like these happen to us) while the rest of the parade continued for a full three kilometers. Ahead of us were drummers and a sea of gandrung dancers, while behind us were a few hundred costumes honoring the water buffalo, a spiritual animal for the Banyuwangi area.

During our first trip there, I learned the word semangat (seh-mahng-aht) which Indonesians use for encouragement (you can do it!). But it literally translates to spirit, passion or zeal. If there is a place with semangat, it’s Banyuwangi.

We really love Banyuwangi (not Baltimore/Washington International Airport)

Setup

You'll see this again... On somebody's back

Hello Gandrung

Haylee from Australia 

Photo by Nola from Tonga

By Titi from Indonesia

 Starting below, the costumes represent the traditional elements:

Fire

Water

There were ridiculous shoes here

I always love the juxtaposition of modern and traditional

Again, the shoes

Earth

These guys had white contact lenses... It was creepy

Spirit.

The Long Dance Goodbye

Alas, all things must come to an end. I am back in the US and yet another adventure is behind me. However, of course, it certainly did not finish easily.

For our last week, everybody from all six arts centers moved to Surabaya, rehearsing for Indonesia Channel, the program’s final performance. This show is a kind of presentation of what everybody learned in their different arts centers. As a result, in order to make it good, essentially justifying the purpose of the scholarship, we spent almost all of our time within our groups rehearsing, rehearsing, and rehearsing. This didn’t bode well for a certain twelve people.

Tensions in the Surabaya team had risen sharply in the final month for myriad reasons (I feel it would make a great book), and the stress of these practice days finally caused everything to boil over. We couldn’t get our performances together, then the steady wave of unnecessary complaints and cultural insensitivity from one faction grew into an incessant onslaught of pettiness, irrelevance and insults that did nothing but drag the group farther into an isolated, moody hole and arguments began breaking out over nothing.

Apart from the group, from which I had become fairly isolated already, the event organizers were painfully disorganized (and three characters somehow still blamed our arts center for it), and in order to get even vague information about important things (like our flights to Jakarta) one had to hound multiple people for hours.

To add even more undue stress to the Surabaya group, our passports were submitted for visa extensions after they had already expired. As a result, they sat for an extra week in a bureaucratic fiasco, and nobody would or could tell us what was happening. Of course, nobody took responsibility for submitting them late, either. Fingers pointed in every direction, trying to deflect blame instead of finding out when we would get them back (at the airport, right before flying out of Surabaya, it turned out).

All of this – personal grudges, unprofessionalism, illegal alienship – hung over our heads all the way through our final performance. After our last rehearsal we were still unsure if the musicians would play the music correctly or if we could dance as well as we wanted to. Things were not looking up, and I put in my headphones, just waiting for everything to be over.

This was not how I wanted the program to end, but it shined a hideous light on many issues that need a serious look on all levels, from the Ministry to the arts centers, in order to have a successful scholarship in the future. Prior to this week I had made Surabaya a home that I love deeply, despite the dozens of problems that I’ve alluded to before. But this last week was so terrible, I was counting the days until its end.

Thankfully the beginning of the final performance rekindled enough of my excitement for being in the program, starting with the costumes. These are one of my favorite traditions. Indonesia is a stylish place and performers always have wonderfully exciting and fascinating outfits. I was thrilled to watch the other group members gradually appear from the dressing rooms in badass garb. My favorite, however, was the Surabaya men’s first costume. We looked dashing.

Photos from Cindy, our paparazzi

We look good

These suits are a danceable variation of the official “Cak Suroboyo” uniform. The city has a set of cultural ambassadors, Cak dan Ning Suroboyo (Mr. and Miss Surabaya), who help visitors connect with the area. The dance in which we sported these flashy costumes was aptly named Cak Ning, a partner dance with the guys and girls welcoming visitors to the city.

And we rocked it! We successfully opened Indonesia Channel 2013. In the end, all of the arts centers did a wonderful job. I loved listening to the extremely diverse music and watching the various dancing styles. This was a hugely cathartic moment (I assume for everybody) that was a huge relief to have finished. We were all desperate to get out from under that pressure, and we did so incredibly well.

Rounding out our emotional extremes for the week, the fateful morning arrived after which we are not likely to ever see each other in a group again (though I’m always hesitant to say “never”). I hate to think about it that way, but it’s a sad reality that showed in everybody’s tears as they parted ways.  Even if it was tough, it’s hard to adjust away from seeing the same people all day, every day for three months. On the bright side, having so many friends around the globe just provides that much more reason to go everywhere (and undoubtedly return to Indonesia) as soon as possible.