Let me take you on a heartwarming journey of platonic love, friendship, family and community, all in a foreign non-English speaking country; I welcome you to the warmth of Indonesia.
I want to preface this piece by informing you that prior to landing in Jakarta, I had zero knowledge of the language, no friends there and was placed, as a non-Muslim, in an Islamic university. With 1 brother and no close female relatives around my age, having a sister is something that felt just about as foreign to me as the people were, especially when I couldn’t even speak the same language as them. Surprisingly though, it was in the depths of villages in which the local dialect was beyond my comprehension that I forged the warmest connections.
So how do you communicate with someone who speaks another language? If Google Translate was your answer, how about when you don’t have a device? Nonverbal communication will come to save the day. It is a powerful tool that often goes underestimated but multilingual translators can only get you so far because bonds between people require a genuine connection between them. It’s in the facial expressions, gestures and actions that you can build relationships too, not just the talking.
Bu Yani and I at the preschool she works in
Such was the case when I spent a weekend in Kutowinangun, a beachside village reliant on agriculture as the main source of income. With all the locals speaking a native dialect, I arrived to comments I couldn’t understand but the smiles and hugs told me I was welcome and safe. Then, upon word getting around (through the gossip trail that spreads like a wildfire in the villages) that I only eat fruit, I was surprised with 2 kilograms of mangosteen picked fresh at one of the locals’ farms. This relieved me of any worries surrounding food availability. From there we began to warm up to each other. I played with the kids, taught English and with whatever common language we could find in Bahasa Indonesia, spoke to them. Within a day, everyone knew me, and I was fully welcomed in all the houses on the street. That was taken one step further the morning after I arrived when, upon seeing that not many people in the village chief’s house where I was staying had woken, I went for a walk. A few houses down, I met with some people and without a clue of where they were taking me, I found myself on an epic ride past rice fields and more villages till we reached a beach cabana. There, I was served a fresh coconut, my absolute favourite at the time, and spent over an hour getting to know each other. Over the next couple of days, they grew on me as I grew on them. I learnt about people’s life stories, accompanied them to work in the preschool and chatted as we strolled across the endless crop fields.
By night, I would be in one of their houses, sleeping in the same bed as someone who I could only half speak to. It must sound weird but it wasn’t because I felt as warm inside through the care they showed me as I would with anyone who spoke full English. It wasn’t what they said to me but the vibrations intricately woven through our energy fields, almost palpable that connected us together. I will never forget Kutowinangun for it has left a mark on me, deep inside my heart, warming me a little every time I recall the memories. Seeing as I get asked to come back via WhatsApp, they have not forgotten about me either.
That’s also how my now best friend Marshanda (pet name: Caca) made me feel. After being eyed up and down as the ‘new girl’ on campus, I walked into class expecting the same to occur but was delighted to meet who was soon to become my sister from another mister. What started out as her group’s intrigue of a foreign exchange student became her queue to satisfy their curiosity and from the first introduction I felt a sense of safety with her; I knew she was excited to be on my side as much as I was excited to finally have a friend. It wasn’t long before we arranged lunch together. Still a beginner in Bahasa Indonesia, the national language, I remember struggling to converse with them to the point of frustration but that despite this barrier, we grew a friendship. From spending time with her family in a mountainous village to being let in at 2am to sleep at her student accommodation after clubbing past curfew, to the airport as I headed back for Sydney, I found a sister from another mister in a foreign country.
Marshanda accompanied me on the train to the airport
New cities in Indonesia presented new landscapes. I doubt that I’ll ever forget my time in Surabaya for Western Sydney University’s Indonesia campus soft launch. I say that not just because of the planned significant events that took place but also because of the one that I was never expecting: being hit by a motorcycle.
Yes, that’s right I was hit by a motorcycle in an unfamiliar city and was taken to hospital on account of my injuries.
Adrian and I at a networking breakfast.
But what does that have to do with relationships? Well you see it was amidst this frightful circumstance without my family that the very concept of family was redefined for me. I was scared, vulnerable, weak and overwhelmed. I wanted my mum but she was 5 000 kilometers away. I don’t know what I would have done if it were not for the resident director of the Australian Consortium for In-Country Studies (ACICIS) executive director, Adrian Budiman. He rushed to be by my side from the moment the crash occurred, to the hotel room where I laid bleeding awaiting First Aid, to the hospital where he sat patiently waiting whilst I was lying in a hospital bed undergoing treatment and testing. I couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that whilst he could’ve been out enjoying the streets of Surabaya or relaxing in the hotel room, he was instead off-the-clock going above and beyond to treat me like he would a daughter who’d been struck in an accident.
That’s when I realised how relationships grow to form trust, strength and love. And when I saw him there still waiting for me as I was rolled out from the emergency, I wasn’t longing for my family anymore because he became my family when they weren’t there, and that was all the love I needed.
In navigating a foreign country, I learnt that developing close bonds is a multi-faceted process where our relations with one another are not merely shaped by what we say or do for each other but a synthesis of these factors that ultimately transfer a feeling; of warmth and being cared for. So how do you know when you’ve formed a connection with someone? It’s a feeling that you just have to experience to understand.
Read this article in WSUP’s Print Magazine XO
