Tidak Orangtuya

Bukit Sunyi, where we live, is home to 3 schools for older children (akin to junior high and high schools). Everyday I see children walk past the house carrying large jugs of water or bundles of kindling. These children are much too small for the schools on the hill, and they are not wearing school uniforms. They are a little dusty and careworn. Their clothes are tattered, dirty and often too large, and most do not have any shoes on. These children are orphans. Either they have tidak orangtuya (no parents), or were turned over because their parents could not afford to care for them. Regardless, all 39 of them live in an orphanage near our house.

My heart breaks every time they walk past, which happens several times a day. They walk from the orphanage past our house about half a mile for water. Sometimes they are carrying sticks covered with grasshoppers. I asked one boy, probably 7 years old, what he was going to do with all of those grasshoppers. He proceeded to explain how delicious grasshoppers are fried (belalang goreng). I think I’ll take his word for it.

Other times, they have collected payapa flowers or banana blooms – also good for eating. I can attest to the tastiness of these treats since Novi and Esty regularly pick these from the field across the street.

These children are always very polite and eager to chat. They like to stop and say hello to Colby. They are particularly excited if he comes out and brings his ball to play with them. We played an impromptu game of volleyball using our fence as a net the other day.

I enjoy seeing all of their dirty, little faces light up. I wish I could bring them all inside for a bath and a good meal. I have always imagined the family I would build as large. For many reasons (social, ethical, and medical), I will not be genetically responsible for all members of this potential clan. I have always wanted to foster or adopt a child in need of a family. Before we left for Indonesia, I actually looked into adopting a child while we are here. Unfortunately, I don’t think it is possible given all of the requirements. The Indonesian government does not seem so keen on international adoptions. I had accepted the fact that adoption was not yet in the cards for us, but I never imagined there would actually be children in need of a home literally in my backyard.

Did I mention my breaking heart? 

Chris, who is concerned I might end up in jail for child trafficking, continually attempts to convince me that what we are doing here is enough. Not only are we helping with the fight against a disease that kills millions of children every year, we are also supporting the local economy here. We are supporting local farmers and artisans, employing 2 locals in our house, and hiring locals from the field site almost everyday. (I am listing it here more to convince myself than anyone else.) I still can’t help but feel that the universe has placed me in this location for a reason. Hopefully, that reason is something more than just to torture my bleeding heart.

I have come up with an idea that, so far, doesn’t make Chris twitch. I think I can do something to better their lot in life without getting arrested. Children under the age of six should not be lugging heavy, dirty jugs of water in their bare feet for a kilometer. I want to get them a well. I know this idea sounds huge. I know it might not work, but I have to try. Every child, no matter where they live, should have access to clean, drinkable water. Don’t worry... I have a plan.

The Staff

Novi and Esty

The day after we arrived in Sumba we hired 2 girls to work for us. We had been told that we would also need to hire a guard, but that does not seem to be the case. The two girls we hired take care of absolutely everything (laundry, cleaning, cooking, and watching over Colby). These girls start their day at 6am and finish after dinner. They work 6 days a week and come back on Sunday evenings in time for dinner. They requested a salary of 500,000 rupiah per month (that’s $55). They live with us and we pay for all of the food. It costs about $45 per week to feed 5 people and the dog. I have never come across cheaper childcare let alone housekeeping services. The spendthrift in me is elated, but the humanitarian is shocked by how little money is expected for a full days work and how hard it is for locals to get that money.

Novi:

Novi is 17 years old and she just finished the Indonesian equivalent of highschool. She is still very much a teenager, but works harder than most highschoolers I know. She speaks a fair amount of English and is a great help when we are trying to communicate with the neighbors. She has breakfast on the table by 7am and has already swept and mopped the floors. Novi does all of the shopping and buys the most interesting vegetables many of which I have never seen or heard of before. She tries very hard to make interesting dishes and likes to learn new recipes. 

Novi desperately wants to be a nurse, but does not yet have the money to attend university. The tuition is about $300 per year. With the help of her mother (who is a nurse at Karitas Hospital), she has opened a savings account and is saving all of the money she is making this year. She wants to save at least enough for 1 year and hopes to improve her English. She also has dreams of traveling. She has never left Sumba and has hardly been anywhere outside of Waitabula.

Novi is otherwise a typical teenage girl. She has a boyfriend (Jami) who just started university on another island. She is struggling with how to handle a long distance relationship. Oops! Like any typical teenager, her relationship status changes as frequently as the weather in New England. Apparently, in the words of Novi, “Jami is broken. Forever.” She is infatuated with Daniel Craig (the latest James Bond)! She finds everything that we do incredibly entertaining. She finds the way Chris tries to mime things he can’t communicate in Bahasa Indonesia gut-wrenchingly funny and usually doubles over with laughter. I love it that she feels so comfortable with us.

Esty:

We hired Esty to primarily care for Colby. She is older than Novi with 24 years under her belt and very good with children. She worked for a family in Bali for 2 years. Esty wakes up early with Novi and takes out the trash and starts on the laundry which is all done by hand in a wash basin with a scrub brush. Then she shifts her focus to Colby helping Novi with household chores when Colby is playing contentedly. Most of the time she chases him around the yard or they go for walks around our neighborhood to look at the horses, chase grasshoppers, and play soccer with the other children. Both girls love Colby very much. They call him Prince Colby!

Esty wants to be a teacher and has also been putting away money from her jobs to pay for university. She hopes to have enough to start school in a year or so. She knows a few words in English, but is trying to learn more by talking to us. We try every morning to learn one new phrase. Esty and Novi say it in English and we say it in Bahasa Indonesia. Esty was very quiet at first – partly because of the language barrier, but seems to be opening up. She is extremely good with Colby. She is not over bearing and lets him explore, but still manages to keep him safe. She is a true force working hard all day long.

Esty is a wealth of knowledge about local traditions.  She has a boyfriend name Petrus who is already in school to be a teacher.  We talk quite often about what has to happen if she and Petrus want to marry.  They are catholic, but local tradition still reigns supreme here.  The process is quite long and very interesting.  I will post about it as soon as I have compiled enough information!

Both Chris and I are seriously impressed with these young ladies. They have goals and ambition. They are working their tails off to make their dreams a reality and better their station in life. I hope we can help them along the way. They truly deserve it.

Sumba Nautil Resort

A few days ago, Chris and I finished the first phase of the project we are working on. We completed the census and mapping of Wainyapu. We now know that there are exactly 2678 people living in Wainyapu, and we know exactly where they live. In just a few days, we will begin the cross-sectional survey to look at how many of these individuals are currently infected with malaria. We have been working very hard and decided to take a couple days off to do a little sightseeing.

There are many places that we want to visit in Sumba (places in the East, a national park somewhere in Central Sumba, cool little islands off the coast of Sumba, etc.). We decided our first side trip should be short and relatively close. Pantai Marosi, which is about 2 hours south of our current location seemed to be the perfect destination. It is close. The beach is supposed to be gorgeous and the waves phenomenal. There is also a resort at Pantai Marosi that caters to Westerners – Sumba Nautil Resort.

Okay, everyone is sold, so how do we get there? If you are a solitary travel, you can hop on one of the many local buses. This method of travel takes a bit of faith or ignorance. You will be riding with pigs, chickens, smoking, machete-yielding men in traditional sarongs, and woman chewing beetle nut (mild stimulant that causes one to make profuse amounts of bright red saliva – imagine the spitting). If there are no seats available, you will not be told this information. Instead, you will be expected to cling to the luggage rack on top. Riding the bus is not ideal particularly with a toddler. We chose to rent a car and driver. I’m not sure this idea was better than the bus, but we got to our destination and returned to Bukit Sunyi safely. We left Monday morning in a pick-up truck. (We thought we had rented a car.)

The drive took us up into the mountains. The views were stunning.

We stayed at a super nice hotel in Pantai Marosi run by a Frenchman called Mr. Alli. He has been there for 11 years. His resort is fantastic. They have a pool and a spectacular view of the ocean.

There was Western food with a French flair. We had sandwiches, beer, crepes, flan, French fries, and shrimp cocktail. Best of all – hot water and a toilet. I nearly cried!

Pantai Marosi more than met our expectations. The sand was white, the water cool and clear, and the sun was hot. Unfortunately, there was no swell while we were there, but Chris still managed to find a “zippy little right” that made for a fun morning.

We only stayed one night. The resort was pricey by Indonesia standards (i.e. it cost the same as a hotel with a view of IHOP along any interstate in the US). Mr. Alli did give us the special rate for Westerners living and working in Sumba. He said he knows how important it is to have some place reasonable to get a little respite. I would have paid double just for the toilet.

Recipe Challenge

This post is a plea for help challenge to all of the foodies we know (particularly if you are, for instance, dating one Kate Nixon and happen to be a chef in Boston). Imagine you are stranded have chosen to live on a somewhat secluded island. At your culinary disposable are a wok, a small stockpot, a large stockpot, and one kerosene burner. The small pot can be placed inside the large pot forming a rudimentary double boiler. (Hey, it worked for the brownie mix I found!)

You have regular access to the following ingredients:

Rice (lots and lots and lots)

Mie (think ramen noodles)

Carrots

Cucumbers

Various leafy greens (similar to chard and spinach)

Green beans

Cabbage

Papaya flowers (have a slight bitter taste, but supposed to have anti-malarial properties)

Papaya

Bananas

Tomatoes

Tofu

Tempe

Eggs

Flour

Sugar

Salt

Pepper

Chile peppers (these sure pack a punch)

Yeast (no baking soda or baking powder)

Powdered milk

Butter

Rice oil (for cooking)

The next list is of ingredients you can get with some effort and if you splurge.

Sweetened condensed milk

Cheese (similar to a sharp cheddar)

Bread

Brownie Mix

Chicken (quality is often questionable, though)

Fish (tiny freshwater, bony things)

Big Fish (if we track down a fisherman and pay him well)

Pork (only if someone dies, a pig is sacrificed, and you are invited to the funeral)

Potatoes

Apples

Eggplant

Coconut (young or dried)

There are also some other vegetables and fruits available depending on the “season.”

Mangoes

Cassava (root vegetable; similar to potatoes)

Kelari (root vegetable; sliced, soaked overnight, and fried for breakfast)

Jambu (a small fruit; flavor is melon like with a hint of plum)

(Sorry!!  I know this photo is sideways, but I can't get it to load in the proper orientation.  Just turn your head.)

I have made flour tortillas, banana pancakes, and pan-fried biscuits with some success. The girls that work for us make pretty much the same thing everyday with little variation. Though, Novi did try her hand at biscuits this morning! We have eaten roughly 153 plates of nasi goreng (fried rice), 12 dozen omelets, and 15 kilos of sautéed cabbage, carrots, and green beans. There has to be something else we can make with these ingredients!!!

HELP!

Sakit

(If you are here for a photo, scroll down.)

Well... It has happened. The Nixons have been infected with their first Sumbanese virus. It was bound to happen. We are living in a new place and we have our very own germ incubator. Toddlers bring home so many interesting bugs wherever you live. Colby seems relatively unscathed by the whole affair, so he might not be typhoid Mary after all. He has had some intestinal issues and doesn’t seem so interested in food, otherwise he is his normal crazy self.

Chris’s bout with this particular virus seems to have been fast and furious. He had a raging fever on Sunday and spent most of the day in bed. On Monday, he was still feeling pretty sluggish and had a viral lytic rash starting on his torso. By Tuesday, he was feeling okay, but he was covered in a prickly red rash. The night brought some joint pain, but he was feeling well enough to surf Wednesday afternoon.

I would characterize my battle with this little bug as slow and steady. No fever for me, just an overall lethargy and arthritic joints since Sunday. I actually didn’t think I was sick - just tired from taking care of Chris, Colby and the house on Sunday (no helpers on Sundays). Monday, I started to break out with a little rash on my stomach. Tuesday when I awoke, I too was covered from head to toe by a bright red rash. Since we only have one small mirror in the bath, I was unaware of my altered appearance until I sat down for breakfast and Esty (Colby’s nanny) gasped. This gasp was followed by the declaration, “Oh mum! Merah!” My beautiful rash hung on through Thursday afternoon. It was a little itchy, but not as bad as the chicken pox when I was a kid. It seems to have cleared now leaving behind only a few itchy nodules on my hands and feet. They only thing left is some pain and slight adema in my joints. It is not easy to use the facilities here if you can’t bend your knees.

This virus also attacked the other member of our epidemiology team, Pak Kamilus, and we found out that one of Pak Gerson’s (our local guide) children was ill this past weekend as well. Given that so many of us from our group was sick it is likely that it passed person to person and not from a mosquito, which rules out the big viruses around here (Dengue fever and malaria).

So boys and girls, what have we learned from this experience? Wash your hands frequently even when trekking around a tribal village in the middle of the jungle. Perhaps, the world should consider swapping bows or curtsies instead of handshakes or high-fives. What about a little wink and a finger-gun?