It's reorientation weeks for us volunteers of Bina Antarbudaya/AFS Indonesia.
Last week, Eric who spent 11 months in Norway came home and spent two days in reorientation camp. It was very nice seeing him again and also other returnees. It felt wonderful to witness how they have grown and seized their year.
Reorientation has always been a sanctuary for us "the older returneess". Because after some time of readjustment, we do have some conclusions of things and values, but the process of readjustment itself lasts forever.. hehhe.. and Reorientation has been a refreshing tools and reclarifying media for us the committee who prepare it.
So..
During the closing ceremony, each of the newest returnees had to deliver small speech about what they had learned during the year..
Eric was the first to share his year..
Eric met a mother who lives by herself in north part of Norway. She was a member of the Sami tribe and still made her living by taking care of deers. In addition, her nearest neighbor lived 50 km away.
Eric told us what this mom had told him. She said, "Eric, you must only remember three things in your life."
"Just remember to stop, breath, and try again. Just repeat it. Stop. Breath. Try again."
I felt like i got a slap right away, and i hardly shed my tears, but managed not to since i was the moderator. Other volunteers at the back side of the room all give him a standing ovation, and i know we just all indirectly have been slapped by the reenrichment.
The gracious mother who knows the meaning of perseverance and the gracious blessings of life got it right. Her message is universal and we just need to remind ourselves to seize these three things which we do regularly everyday. But do we really mean it ? sometimes no.
After that session. I found myself stop. Embrace the stop and the quit.
And then i breathed. i gave the whole time and energy to breath, just breath, even that it made me sob.
and i try again :)
Showing posts with label AFS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AFS. Show all posts
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Saturday, July 5, 2008
the Language of Enthusiasm
it's holiday, and just as usual, it's the peak season of volunteering in AFS and Bina Antarbudaya,
and this is how i feel, and i think, the same feeling nurtures all other volunteers in AFS and Bina Antarbudaya, the feeling that makes us strong to hold on to our dreams, vision and determination despite all threats and temptation of materialism, individualism and apathism..
From the book "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho:
"But the sheep had taught him something even more important: that there was a language in the world that everyone understood, a language the boy had used throughout the time that he was trying to improve things at the shop. It was the language of enthusiasm, of things accomplished with love and purpose, and as part of a search for something believed in and desired."
[p.62]
and this is how i feel, and i think, the same feeling nurtures all other volunteers in AFS and Bina Antarbudaya, the feeling that makes us strong to hold on to our dreams, vision and determination despite all threats and temptation of materialism, individualism and apathism..
From the book "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho:
"But the sheep had taught him something even more important: that there was a language in the world that everyone understood, a language the boy had used throughout the time that he was trying to improve things at the shop. It was the language of enthusiasm, of things accomplished with love and purpose, and as part of a search for something believed in and desired."
[p.62]
Saturday, April 26, 2008
...und zum Schluss
Recently, i had reread the journal i made during my exchange year. I was then reminded of how i concluded the year, what my accomplishments were, my thoughts, my emotions, etc.
It is refreshing indeed, being "slapped" by the values i got there... but that's the journal was intended to be made, to make the year everlasting.
Below, is the copy of one of the article inside the journal. Very sorry i haven't found time to translate it.. :p
It is refreshing indeed, being "slapped" by the values i got there... but that's the journal was intended to be made, to make the year everlasting.
Below, is the copy of one of the article inside the journal. Very sorry i haven't found time to translate it.. :p
und zum Schluss
Jetzt ist schon die Zeit, in der ich einen Schluss meines Tagebuches schreiben soll. In 8 Tagen (nur) fliege ich mit meinen Freunden, den anderen indonesischen AFS-Gastschülern, nach Indonesien zurück. Was wir letztes Jahr angefangen haben, müssen wir jetzt beenden, bzw. auch dieses Buch.
Die Zeit ist in diesem Jahr, irgendwie finde ich, schneller vergangen. Aber es war jedoch viiieel passiert !! Viel mehr als ich erwartet habe, dass ich immer davon überascht bin !! Echt !! Das war ein groβartiges Jahr !! Ich denke jetzt zurück, was ich jetzt habe und was ich früher hatte, wie ich diesen Weg zurückgelegt habe und halte es in Ehren. Durch Arbeit, Versuche, Fehler, Misserfolge und Erfolge habe ich meine Hoffnungen und Erwartungen versucht zu erfüllen.
Als ich gekommen bin, reichte mein Deutsch ”nur” zum Begrüβen und Vorstellen. Der Wille mich mit Familie und Freunden unterhalten zu können, motivierte mich immer mehr Fähigkeiten in der Deutschensprache zu entwickeln. Demzufolge habe ich mich in der Volkshochschule Osnabrück angemeldet, wo ich von dem Deutschsertifikat hörte. Es war dann mein Ziel, dieses Sertifikat anzustreben. Die manchmalharten Stunden haben mir geholfen, die Deutschesprache zu beherrschen.
Am Anfang war es hart, finde ich, Beziehungen aufzubauen. Ich hatte den Eindruck dass die Deutsche zurückhaltend sind. Ich bin ein Mensch, der nicht ohne Freunde leben kann. Ich musste mich immer wieder motivieren und aufrichten, auf die anderen zuzugehen, anzusprechen und Beziehungen zu knüpfen
Sich an Sportverein und Chor zu beteiligen war für mich hilfreich Freunde zu finden, mit denen ich dann auch durch Unternehmungen, z.B. Partys, Indonesische Essen, Kurstreffen, usw. Stärkerer Freundschaften knüpfen kann. Bei meinem Praktikum in Kindergarten habe ich von den Kindern gelernt, dass die stärksten Beziehungen zwischen Menschen mit den Herzen gebaut werden. Folglich war ich bestrebt noch tiefere Freundschaften in dieser vielfältigen Welt zu leben.
Ein Jahr in einem Land zu leben, wo es nicht viele Leute gibt, die den Islam leben, wie ich, war für mich eine groβe Herausforderung. Ich habe von mir gefordert, wo immer ich bin, meine Religion, den Islam einzuhalten, z.B. 5 Mal am Tag beten, fasten im Ramadhan für einen Monat lang, kein Schweinefleisch essen, keinen Alkohol trinken, den Gott nicht vergessen, usw. Diese Erfahrungen haben mich in meinem Selbstbewusstsein gestärkt und hoffentlich in meinem Glauben gefestigt. Was mir aufgefallen ist, dass die Leute geringe Kenntnisse vom Islam haben und durch die Medien ein verzerrtes Bild dargestellt wird. Durch die Fragen von Mitmenschen über meine Religion musste ich mich intensiver mit dem Islam auseinanderstezen, damit ich klareres Grundwissen bekam. Wünschenswert ist dass meine Mitmenschen bessere kentnisse bezüglich Islam bekommen. Da ich einer katholischen Familie gelebt habe, habe ich die Christlichen Glauben kennengelernt und habe geübt, anderen Religionen mit netralem Standpunkt zu sehen.
Während ich eine andere Kultur kennenlernte, sollte ich gleichzeitig die Kultur von meinem eigenen Heimatland präsentieren, damit die Idee vom Kulturaustausch realisiert wird. Es machte mir auch viel Freude, Refarate zu halten, Tänze darzubiten, traditionelle Kleidung zu tragen, usw. bei gelegenen Chancen.
Hier habe ich viele schöne Beziehungen geknüpft, zur Gastfamilie, zu Freunden, zu anderen Gastschülern, zu Menschen. Ich hoffe, groβe Distanz wird diese Beziehungen nicht zu sehr schwächen. Ich bin mir sicher, dass diese Erfahrungen, die ich hier in einem Jahr machen durfte, wird ein wertvoller Schatz in meinem Leben bleiben. Meine Hoffnungen sind, dass ich von diesem Schatz an die Welt etwas zurückgeben kann.
Ibbenbüren, 7 Juli 2004
Rizki Nauli "Kiki" Siregar
Die Zeit ist in diesem Jahr, irgendwie finde ich, schneller vergangen. Aber es war jedoch viiieel passiert !! Viel mehr als ich erwartet habe, dass ich immer davon überascht bin !! Echt !! Das war ein groβartiges Jahr !! Ich denke jetzt zurück, was ich jetzt habe und was ich früher hatte, wie ich diesen Weg zurückgelegt habe und halte es in Ehren. Durch Arbeit, Versuche, Fehler, Misserfolge und Erfolge habe ich meine Hoffnungen und Erwartungen versucht zu erfüllen.
Als ich gekommen bin, reichte mein Deutsch ”nur” zum Begrüβen und Vorstellen. Der Wille mich mit Familie und Freunden unterhalten zu können, motivierte mich immer mehr Fähigkeiten in der Deutschensprache zu entwickeln. Demzufolge habe ich mich in der Volkshochschule Osnabrück angemeldet, wo ich von dem Deutschsertifikat hörte. Es war dann mein Ziel, dieses Sertifikat anzustreben. Die manchmalharten Stunden haben mir geholfen, die Deutschesprache zu beherrschen.
Am Anfang war es hart, finde ich, Beziehungen aufzubauen. Ich hatte den Eindruck dass die Deutsche zurückhaltend sind. Ich bin ein Mensch, der nicht ohne Freunde leben kann. Ich musste mich immer wieder motivieren und aufrichten, auf die anderen zuzugehen, anzusprechen und Beziehungen zu knüpfen
Sich an Sportverein und Chor zu beteiligen war für mich hilfreich Freunde zu finden, mit denen ich dann auch durch Unternehmungen, z.B. Partys, Indonesische Essen, Kurstreffen, usw. Stärkerer Freundschaften knüpfen kann. Bei meinem Praktikum in Kindergarten habe ich von den Kindern gelernt, dass die stärksten Beziehungen zwischen Menschen mit den Herzen gebaut werden. Folglich war ich bestrebt noch tiefere Freundschaften in dieser vielfältigen Welt zu leben.
Ein Jahr in einem Land zu leben, wo es nicht viele Leute gibt, die den Islam leben, wie ich, war für mich eine groβe Herausforderung. Ich habe von mir gefordert, wo immer ich bin, meine Religion, den Islam einzuhalten, z.B. 5 Mal am Tag beten, fasten im Ramadhan für einen Monat lang, kein Schweinefleisch essen, keinen Alkohol trinken, den Gott nicht vergessen, usw. Diese Erfahrungen haben mich in meinem Selbstbewusstsein gestärkt und hoffentlich in meinem Glauben gefestigt. Was mir aufgefallen ist, dass die Leute geringe Kenntnisse vom Islam haben und durch die Medien ein verzerrtes Bild dargestellt wird. Durch die Fragen von Mitmenschen über meine Religion musste ich mich intensiver mit dem Islam auseinanderstezen, damit ich klareres Grundwissen bekam. Wünschenswert ist dass meine Mitmenschen bessere kentnisse bezüglich Islam bekommen. Da ich einer katholischen Familie gelebt habe, habe ich die Christlichen Glauben kennengelernt und habe geübt, anderen Religionen mit netralem Standpunkt zu sehen.
Während ich eine andere Kultur kennenlernte, sollte ich gleichzeitig die Kultur von meinem eigenen Heimatland präsentieren, damit die Idee vom Kulturaustausch realisiert wird. Es machte mir auch viel Freude, Refarate zu halten, Tänze darzubiten, traditionelle Kleidung zu tragen, usw. bei gelegenen Chancen.
Hier habe ich viele schöne Beziehungen geknüpft, zur Gastfamilie, zu Freunden, zu anderen Gastschülern, zu Menschen. Ich hoffe, groβe Distanz wird diese Beziehungen nicht zu sehr schwächen. Ich bin mir sicher, dass diese Erfahrungen, die ich hier in einem Jahr machen durfte, wird ein wertvoller Schatz in meinem Leben bleiben. Meine Hoffnungen sind, dass ich von diesem Schatz an die Welt etwas zurückgeben kann.
Ibbenbüren, 7 Juli 2004
Rizki Nauli "Kiki" Siregar
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Seleksi Program Pertukaran Pelajat AFS chapter Jakarta
bagi kawan-kawan yang masih duduk di kelas 1 SMA atau setara,
atau punya keluarga dan kerabat yang masih dudukdi kelas 1 SMA,
jangan lupa daftar seleksi AFS...
di kantor Nasional Bina Antarbudaya, Jl. Limau no.20 Jakarta..
untuk keterangan lebih lanjut, visit: http://bina-antarbudaya.net/
atau hubungi Rassi 0815 953 3095 (cordially strictly no SMS please....)
atau punya keluarga dan kerabat yang masih dudukdi kelas 1 SMA,
jangan lupa daftar seleksi AFS...
di kantor Nasional Bina Antarbudaya, Jl. Limau no.20 Jakarta..
untuk keterangan lebih lanjut, visit: http://bina-antarbudaya.net/
atau hubungi Rassi 0815 953 3095 (cordially strictly no SMS please....)
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Monsters
Below is an essay written by my beloved friend Hart. This essay won the 2nd Place in the “Peace through Understanding Essay Competition”. My hostmum sent me a copy of her essay and I could hardly believe with what she had written.
By posting her essay here, I just want to show you a tangible proof that the love that we give will come back again for sure. Friendship is not created due to similarity but a process of mutual understanding. Even a small start and act can lead and expand into an enourmous impact.
To Hart: Hart, du bist echt bewunderswert !!!! :) :) :) Ich hoffe, wir koennen unser Freundschaft immer behalten obwohl wir ganz wenig (oder garn nicht) Kontakt machen. Aber ich glaube und erwarte, irgendwann in unserem Leben werden wir uns wiedertreffen und daran geben wir die Welt unser beste Laecheln weil wir schon etwas fuer die Friedenheit gebaut haben. Ich habe dich immer ganz doll Lieb !!! :) :) :)
By posting her essay here, I just want to show you a tangible proof that the love that we give will come back again for sure. Friendship is not created due to similarity but a process of mutual understanding. Even a small start and act can lead and expand into an enourmous impact.
To Hart: Hart, du bist echt bewunderswert !!!! :) :) :) Ich hoffe, wir koennen unser Freundschaft immer behalten obwohl wir ganz wenig (oder garn nicht) Kontakt machen. Aber ich glaube und erwarte, irgendwann in unserem Leben werden wir uns wiedertreffen und daran geben wir die Welt unser beste Laecheln weil wir schon etwas fuer die Friedenheit gebaut haben. Ich habe dich immer ganz doll Lieb !!! :) :) :)
Monsters
by Hart Ford-Hodges
At the airport, it is easy to spot exchange students: teenagers lugging suitcases bulging with a year’s worth of underwear, dictionaries, and forty pounds of miscellaneous items. Most of the time, the exact contents are a mystery. I remember throwing half of my closet indiscriminately into a suitcase. There were surprises as I unpacked at my new German house. Some surprises were nasty and abstract: monsters with names like prejudice, stereotypes, xenophobia who must have slipped quietly out of the back corner of my closet and into my suitcase when I wasn’t looking.
After AFS orientations about the exchange year in Germany, I was aware that I had monsters that stereotyped Germans as stout mustached men with Bierkruegs. Germans might also stereotype me as AFS—Another Fat Student—who eats Big Macs and drives a gas-guzzling SUV.
I expected that my exchange year would widen my world laterally between Germany and the States by banishing monsters of German and American stereotypes. That was the full extent of my expectation. Looking back, I realize the actual experience overwhelmed my preconceptions. It transformed me, the average American teenager, into a global citizen by stretching me vertically, diagonally, and by expanding my chest like helium fills a balloon. Germany and Germans were only part of my year, a beginning that blossomed into much more. I met Italian, Australian, Indonesian, Chinese, Mexican exchange students. At school I learned Spanish and Dutch. At the Red Cross, I become friends with mentally retarded adults. With a vibrant new environment, I recreated myself. I conquered my monsters—prejudices against housewives, mentally-retarded adults, the French, and Muslims. My Muslim-prejudice monster lived and died especially quietly.
Before my exchange year I barely blinked when I heard “Muslim” caustically spat out. I didn’t condone prejudice; I just didn’t feel that anti-Muslim tensions affected me. Living in a neighborhood of majority, mainstream America vacuum-sealed me from minority issues. On top of that, society seemed to condone prejudice against Islam. The labels became “Islamic militants” and “Muslim terrorists” as if the religion and destruction were intimately tied together. Of course, I knew in my head that “Muslim” did not equal “terrorist.” But I didn’t understand that in my heart because I never defined Muslim by experience. Then I met Kiki.
She was like a fairy—that’s the only way to describe her. Less than five feet tall, Indonesian, long black hair, dark skin and a dark mole on her right cheek, and her Islam. Kiki carried her religion eloquently: just a white head scarf in her pocket. She wrapped her black hair in white five times each day to pray. I felt that she knew her God and loved Him. More than that though, I knew Kiki. She lived just a train stop away from me. We took the train together to AFS meetings. Then we walked to the Haus der Jugend, sometimes making a detour for ice cream and a chat with the Italian owner. After the meeting, all the exchange students wandered the city, embracing the night and loving Germany. Gradually, we broke off in twos and threes to take trains back to our host families. Kiki and I took the same train at 10:27—but usually we missed it. So we went for more ice cream or hot chocolate while we waited for the next train at 10:57. Or we would sit on the platform and sing John Mayer songs. Kiki loved John Mayer, but no Germans knew him. She relished our sing-alongs. Running through the halls of my high school. Screaming at the top of my lungs.
Quietly, I became friends with my first Muslim. It was a revolution. Suddenly Muslim ceased to be a group of those radical terrorists and suicide bombers that the media portrayed. Muslim became Kiki. The Indonesian fairy humanized my definition of the minority.
After AFS orientations about the exchange year in Germany, I was aware that I had monsters that stereotyped Germans as stout mustached men with Bierkruegs. Germans might also stereotype me as AFS—Another Fat Student—who eats Big Macs and drives a gas-guzzling SUV.
I expected that my exchange year would widen my world laterally between Germany and the States by banishing monsters of German and American stereotypes. That was the full extent of my expectation. Looking back, I realize the actual experience overwhelmed my preconceptions. It transformed me, the average American teenager, into a global citizen by stretching me vertically, diagonally, and by expanding my chest like helium fills a balloon. Germany and Germans were only part of my year, a beginning that blossomed into much more. I met Italian, Australian, Indonesian, Chinese, Mexican exchange students. At school I learned Spanish and Dutch. At the Red Cross, I become friends with mentally retarded adults. With a vibrant new environment, I recreated myself. I conquered my monsters—prejudices against housewives, mentally-retarded adults, the French, and Muslims. My Muslim-prejudice monster lived and died especially quietly.
Before my exchange year I barely blinked when I heard “Muslim” caustically spat out. I didn’t condone prejudice; I just didn’t feel that anti-Muslim tensions affected me. Living in a neighborhood of majority, mainstream America vacuum-sealed me from minority issues. On top of that, society seemed to condone prejudice against Islam. The labels became “Islamic militants” and “Muslim terrorists” as if the religion and destruction were intimately tied together. Of course, I knew in my head that “Muslim” did not equal “terrorist.” But I didn’t understand that in my heart because I never defined Muslim by experience. Then I met Kiki.
She was like a fairy—that’s the only way to describe her. Less than five feet tall, Indonesian, long black hair, dark skin and a dark mole on her right cheek, and her Islam. Kiki carried her religion eloquently: just a white head scarf in her pocket. She wrapped her black hair in white five times each day to pray. I felt that she knew her God and loved Him. More than that though, I knew Kiki. She lived just a train stop away from me. We took the train together to AFS meetings. Then we walked to the Haus der Jugend, sometimes making a detour for ice cream and a chat with the Italian owner. After the meeting, all the exchange students wandered the city, embracing the night and loving Germany. Gradually, we broke off in twos and threes to take trains back to our host families. Kiki and I took the same train at 10:27—but usually we missed it. So we went for more ice cream or hot chocolate while we waited for the next train at 10:57. Or we would sit on the platform and sing John Mayer songs. Kiki loved John Mayer, but no Germans knew him. She relished our sing-alongs. Running through the halls of my high school. Screaming at the top of my lungs.
Quietly, I became friends with my first Muslim. It was a revolution. Suddenly Muslim ceased to be a group of those radical terrorists and suicide bombers that the media portrayed. Muslim became Kiki. The Indonesian fairy humanized my definition of the minority.
In the flight back home, I had one less monster to carry. My suitcases—even though they bulged with Milchschockolade and Gummibaeren—were lighter somehow. The exchange experience sent me home emptier, freer—and fearless.
Before, I was a little girl, scared of the dark and frightened by the monsters that lurked there. I believed them when they told me to keep out of strange places full of strange people. The world terrified me. Then AFS pushed me right into the middle of strange places and gagged my monsters. I met the world. I listened to my own voice and the garble of strangeness surrounding me. I learned to understand the language, culture, and myself. I fell in love with the exhilaration of the experience. Now I am fearless. I dare to embrace the wider world without monsters crowding around to whisper lies in my ears.
Before, I was a little girl, scared of the dark and frightened by the monsters that lurked there. I believed them when they told me to keep out of strange places full of strange people. The world terrified me. Then AFS pushed me right into the middle of strange places and gagged my monsters. I met the world. I listened to my own voice and the garble of strangeness surrounding me. I learned to understand the language, culture, and myself. I fell in love with the exhilaration of the experience. Now I am fearless. I dare to embrace the wider world without monsters crowding around to whisper lies in my ears.
the Preambule
I am thinking of starting this drawing book with a beautiful preambule, but am too nervous with my own expectations that i just enforce myself to just write… just draw… just like the spirit of this blog should be.
This almost-all-green picture was taken more than three years ago. I was bicycling along a small village road just five km from where i used to live in Ibbenbueren, Germany. It was (if i’m not mistaken) during the last 2 weeks before i closed my exchange year with AFS. It was summer and i remember that my intention was only to burn calories from extensive breakfast i had had in the morning (hahahha !!) but it turned out to be an « absorbing » moment.
My motoric and sensoric system told me to ride.. ride.. and ride..
Inhale.. exhale..
Inhale..exhale..
Record the scenery, record, and record…
Save the smell. Smell of grass.. of cows.. of soil.. of sun..
Absorb and absorb..
This photo is now decorating the frontpage of my real drawing book which i take along with me everyday everywhere.
Isn’t it a nice constellation to decorate the frontpost of my virtual drawing book with the same picture as well ??? ;)
Inhale.. exhale..
Inhale..exhale..
Record the scenery, record, and record…
Save the smell. Smell of grass.. of cows.. of soil.. of sun..
Absorb and absorb..
This photo is now decorating the frontpage of my real drawing book which i take along with me everyday everywhere.
Isn’t it a nice constellation to decorate the frontpost of my virtual drawing book with the same picture as well ??? ;)
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