Stranger in a Strange Land

Stranger in a Strange Land[1]:
Sekolah Ichthus Jakarta as Seen from the Eyes of a Newcomer


by Ariel E.G Ponce ©
HOD, Religion and Visual Arts
Sekolah Ichthus Jakarta


Fifteen years of tertiary education has an innate ability to warp one’s mind. But nothing in all those years could have prepared me for the “cultural shock” that Jakarta had in store for me. After muddling my way through the ins-and-outs of the academe, a part of me was still asking “Is this all there is to education?” I used to pride myself with the notion that after fifteen years of academic experience I no longer needed to prepare for my lessons. That I could breeze through a class with nothing but spit, bailing wire and guts as big as the brass bells of Balanguiga[2] to get me through lessons. But what I had become in reality was an inept fool who had rested on his laurels (that’s the one used for chicken-and-pork-adobo[3] not the one awarded to proud Olympians, mind you!) and gone soft from the lack of challenges. It took a lot of sacrifice and major decision-making to wake me up from my lethargy and finally fly me off all the way to Jakarta and into the waiting arms of… Primary and Secondary Education!

And what an experience that was! Boarding a cheap red-eye flight that leaves one hour late, serves no food, and travels three and a half hours straight with nothing but the flight attendants’ “bring me” games all the way to Jakarta, one really begins to wonder whether the decision to go was worth it. After being interviewed by the owner and Directress of Sekolah Ichthus, Mrs. Seemun Suparno, in Jakarta last April, I was eventually considered for the position of Head of Department for Religion and Visual Arts. That was definitely the last thing on my mind since I was merely looking for a teaching position to begin with. But after taking the five cent tour around the school building at the Caringin House in the South, I was struck by the building’s very utilitarian architecture. Here was a school building that did not in any way conform to typical box-like configurations but a circular confluence of stairs and rooms that allow the viewer to see all the classrooms just by merely standing in the center of the structure. Simply brilliant in its design!

And the kids were something else! I just felt the joy that they were radiating in everything that they did. Running around and jumping on the playgrounds, the smiles on those little faces conveyed to me nothing but contentment; and at that point in time I knew I had found a home. After running into downtown Jakarta signboards, on my first day here, that had nothing but Bahasa Indonesia written on it, I knew that I had definitely become a stranger in a strange land. In a country that, I discovered to my dismay, spoke very little English, I received the shock of my life when the kids in the school not only spoke English fluently but with accents that rivaled those of the best international school students anywhere. No rolling “Rs” in this school, just the smooth, silky tones spoken by those who seemed to have been born to it. I was simply flabbergasted and loving every minute of my bewilderment.

I am now on the seventh month of my stay in Ichthus, serving the educational needs of the two branches which the school has. When asked which branch I like best I always reply, “I enjoy teaching in the South but all my friends are in the West.” A safe enough response I gather, but nothing closer to the truth. For while I relish in the enthusiasm and English speaking skills of the “Southern” branch, I can’t help but feel the warmth and closeness of the ties that bind us together in the West. This may probably be owed to the fact that my residence is in the South and that my new found best friend and tennis buddy lives just a stone’s throw away. And in the long run, isn’t it the people that make you want to stay long in a place anyway?

I live and breathe Jakarta now… The “pedas[4]” or the chilly swim in my system now as much as the next “bapak[5]” who’ll be driving me to my “sekolah[6]” in his rumbling “ojek[7].” Words that sounded strange before have become familiar to me, and I find the lilting tune of the spoken Bahasa Indonesia as endearing as the Ilonggo[8] of my wife’s. And don’t even get me started on the food… Everything to me is eatable (is there such a word?). And every cooked food, fruit or dessert is an adventure in taste. I was once asked, “What will you miss most when you finally leave Indonesia?” and my quick answer will always be “the food!”

I just finished my lesson plans last night at around 11:57 pm. Can you believe it? Me? Working on a lesson plan? Now I’m burdened with books I need to read, resources I need to go through, teaching techniques I need to unearth (just to make the classes interesting to zero-tolerance-to-bored kids), and Multiple Intelligences that I need to utilize (curse you Dr. Howard and your constantly increasing M.I.s! Spiritual Intelligence is just around the corner right?) And through it all the only words I could say were, “Aren’t all these things what I should have been doing all along? My educational juices have finally come to a boil and I feel dismayed that the first term is about over. Now instead of a let-down I feel a “COME ON!” that’s dying to be screamed out. Instead of breezing it’s all blood, sweat and tears. Instead of fixing a deeply rooted problem, I go to the root of the cause. Instead of old, unbreakable, non-malleable, thick-headed, 20 year olds, I get young, open, sensitive and trainable minds waiting for their turn to make the world a better place one step at a time.

My wife had this interesting story about a teacher they once had who was asked to teach a P6 class after having been in secondary education for most of his life. He asked “Why am I getting demoted?” To which my wife replied, “You’re still a teacher aren’t you, how can moving from one level to another be a demotion?” This then is my working class motto: That I’m not really being demoted but rather I am a TEACHER! And wherever the winds of change (and apparently the dollar signs) may take me, nothing will really change; I shall still and forevermore be a teacher. ©

[1] With sincerest apologies to Robert E. Heinlein. Yes, I finally “GROK!”
[2] The bells of Balanguiga played a significant and controversial part in the early Fil-American wars.
[3] A Filipino dish cooked with soy sauce, vinegar and laurel leaves.
[4] A variety of long, thin red or green pepper which is used in practically any culinary preparation (even desserts at times).

[5] Bahasa Indonesian term for Sir or Mister, it is pronounced with the “k” at the end silent. The shorter version, which is commonly used is “pak.”

[6] Bahasa Indonesian term for “school.”

[7] Bahasa Indonesian term for a motorcycle used as part of the public transport system.

[8] A Southern dialect in the Philippines characterized by an endearing lilt to the tone.

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