Tim Taylor: Volunteer with LPTM from England, December 2008
These are my notes of living with a village family while I planted trees for LPTM.
I stayed in the house of Pak Sudarman (Pak Darman) and his family – his wife Suryani (Suri), daughter Mariati 10 yrs, son Ali 3 yrs and baby Aldi 7 months.
The kampong (village) is in Dusun Pandala, it is in the propensi Sulawesi Selatan (Province of South Sulawesi), Kabupaten Takalar (Town area admin), Kec Mangarabombang (sub district), Desa Laikeng (village admin area).
The area has been designated a receiving area for Transmigration for fishermen from Java, but as it is normally so dry, the transmigration program has not been successful and many houses are lying empty.
Pak Sudarman is an officer for Transmigrasi Sulsel, overseeing work in the area for the young men, they build water storage units, furniture etc, and he also is responsible for paying pensions for local people.
The kampong lies near the lagoon with lovely views over the fields where many cattle graze the grass which grows well in the wet season.
I stayed one month here in December 2008, right in the middle of the rainy season. My aim was to plant at least 20 Bitti trees in a plantation which has been set aside with local government agreement.
The field I was working in had been marked out for planting up to 80 trees equally spaced about 5 meters apart. Most of my work consisted of digging 40 holes with my helper Pak Mamman, but we did manage to plant 20 trees in 2 rows, protected by hand-built fencing made from alder twigs and sticks cut from the hedgerows. In the end we were defeated in our aim of planting 40 trees by the torrential rain which turned the field into a sticky morass of heavy clay, and it was impossible to work in the driving rain.
Notes 13/12/2008. Boys at teatime – I gave them milk. They thought it was very funny when they saw the milk ‘moustache’ on their lips, against the chocolate colour of their skin. They laughed delightedly.
The hens are practically starving – they have very sharp eyes and pick out the smallest crumb. They fight over biscuit crumbs which I throw them (sometimes the whole cracker biscuit), and they rush to see what has been thrown away from the washing up – usually mie (noodles) from the wok. The hens and the large cock try to get into the house and would if they could but I keep them out. They shit on the porch right in the most inconvenient place. The mother hen of 10 chicks shelters them under her wings, and they also have been into the house.
There are two cats – ginger, and ginger/white. They are siblings, young, and miaouw when they are hungry (i.e. all the time) – like the hens, they pick over all the rubbish, upset the bins, jump onto the stove and shelves, rob the food remains from the pans. They sleep cutely together at the back of the house.
Notes made on 14/12/2008 concerning Waste Disposal
I realize that a clean environment is a state of mind and is COMPARATIVE. My house is surrounded by dirt and rubbish, the garden is full of wrappers, packets, old bottles, old clothes and sandals, bits of wood, bamboo and coconut husks, mango pips, plastic bags and plastic sheeting. Animals wander in and out – cows, goats, cats and dogs, chickens. Any rubbish thrown out is immediately picked over by the hens, dogs, cats. A dog found my wok which I had put out to clean, it had fried fish remains in it – he licked it clean. At first I put my own rubbish in a plastic bag and left it outside while I contemplated what to do with it. This was a mistake – the plastic bag was ripped apart, more rubbish was strewn about – the plastic bags actually CONCENTRATE the waste, making the problem worse. I asked Pak Eustace, the village priest, what to do – he merrily threw the bag into the huge storm ditch across the road and dusted his hands as though he had solved the problem – out of sight, out of mind. It may have temporarily provided relief, but of course the rubbish will get swept down to the lagoon if it has not already been deposited in the fields. This is awful for the (wider) environment. My IMMEDIATE environment was the house and garden. I thought: What are you prepared to ACCEPT as a standard? – if you accept waste, rubbish and dirt, it is not a problem, you just live with it, you know nothing different. If you are offended by it, you have to do something about it. It is no use just writing about it or moaning and groaning. What to do for the family? They have not known any different, there simply is no means of disposal, no collection facilities or village rubbish tip
Can I show them a waste disposal system in the time I have? Is it just for MY benefit? Will they learn, or just revert to their old ways when I’ve gone? I suspect the latter, but the only way to find out is to DO something and clean up.
DIRT is a state of mind. Cow pats, dog and cat faeces, chicken shit, mud, layers of dirt on the table ( I cleaned 4 separate layers of dirt off with a scourer and still dirt was coming off the table). When wet, the mud gets in the house whether you wear sandals or not. When you wash up, the chickens congregate around the tank, knowing there will be some food thrown away from the plates. The waste water from the tank makes the ground around the tank a muddy swamp (and) it attracts chickens and animals all looking for food. Chickens peck around. Ants find the plastic bag of rubbish in the kitchen. Cats jump onto the stove to see what’s there. When Suri was preparing my fish (Bolu) yesterday (13/12/08), the glass plate broke – she just laughed and swept the broken glass between the bamboo slats to the waste ground below. She then tried to find a piece of fish which a cat had dropped onto the same rubbish – she walked barefoot over this. She didn’t find the fish (which was just as well).
Do you accept this and live with it? I am reminded of the boys jumping into the canal in Makassar after heavy rain or boys standing in the filthy roadside drains trying to catch unmentionable creatures – children standing nearly naked on the rubbish heaps in the streets. It surely is a state of mind, not ACTUALITY. They don’t catch diseases – they don’t know anything about disease or germs – they are immune. (Or ARE they?).
What can I, should I, do? I am here for a short time. I will clean up as much wrapping paper as I can and burn it. I will attempt to show them a compost heap. I will try to teach them NOT to throw into the ditch to become someone else’s problem or a problem for their beautiful environment.
(It took me until 25/12/2008 to make a bonfire and burn my six or seven bags of rubbish. Up to that time I had stored the bags in the house, which is also not a good idea. The family obviously did not like the plastic bags accumulating in the house. Their natural instinct was to throw the bags as far away as possible – but I do not know where they ended up. This whole matter of waste disposal is a serious problem not easily solved. There is not enough wood to burn a bonfire every week, the wood gets damp and smokes a lot.)
Notes made 18/12/2008 Thursday.
Very wet – white clay sticks to boots/shoes. Sharp-eyed chickens snatch over every piece, spot anything new however small- a definite pecking order – the bantams hardly get a look-in. They are small and even more scrawny. Poor things seem to be starving.
Children in the rain – laughing, waving, ‘Hello Mister’. 2 girls sharing one blue raincoat, only one girl’s head showing through – peals of laughter – motorbikes on road like drag racing – roars, splutters, blue smoke, changes gear – fast for a short way then slows dramatically.
My tea of boiled potato, rice, tinned tuna, tinned (Chinese) peas, chopped spring onion all mashed up with salt and pepper. It was quite good and filling although I left a lot of rice – the chickens had it.
One chicken doesn’t have to worry about food anymore – it is cut up in bits in the fridge for tomorrow’s supper.
20/12/2008 The Fleeting Glance – Impressions of Pandala/Takalar in the rain
The paddy fields are all flooded now. The rice is very bright green, being rapidly planted by farmers in straw hats. Buffalo wallow up to their neck. First thing – puppies black and white, mother with full teats – goes away from them when I approach. Fence built very quickly – trees put out in the open.
I take photos of schoolchildren on way to school – also boys playing in the storm ditch, making a dam etc. Pak Dusun (Pak Dereman) – large helmet, small motorcycle. Ride to Takalar – fresh air. Village people smile and wave. The fleeting glance of girls and women. Children in school uniform – brown. The Pantai and beach defence work. What a beautiful beach. The banana trees and coconut trees. The sales woman in hardware shop where I buy the rainboots – quick, pleasant exchange. The mosque in Takalar and prayers at 12.00pm with greetings from all. Bakso and girl who came in with 2 friends – smile and meanings in the smile. What am I like to them? Do they want love? Pak Dereman knows where to get all my requirements – like Tea, fruit, boots and mobile phone credit.
When I return I hear the whimpering and cries of the puppies. They are overheating in the direct sunlight on the front part of the disused building, with no protection. They are very distressed and I cannot bear the sound – although I had reservations, I had to do something. I get 2 cardboard boxes and put the puppies (3 in each) in the shade at the back of the building. Some local boys help me. The puppies stop crying. I make some tea – then when I go to look at the pups one box has gone. The boys have taken it to the back of the (LPTM) office. I call them back to take the second box. The pups will be cool in the back of the office, but will their mother find them? Have I done the right thing? Will someone look after them? The mother, poor thing, is very thin, ribs sticking out, always scavenging and hunting, roaming far over the fields, but is wild and will not let you approach (or rather, she will start up if you approach, give a howl and flee). It would be kinder to put the pups down but who could do that? They will also be hungry and starving for most of their lives. At the moment they are little fat bundles, black and white, with one brown and white, six in total. The mother has done her best for them but survival is very hard.
Poem
Babies suckle on the nipples
Mother’s curving rounded breast bursting, bountiful benison, bosomness
Full to expression
Hungry lips suck on the dark prominent bud, drawing nourishment
The mother needs the baby
Ecstasy – the function of the mother
The mother’s whole being is
Concentrated into the two nipples
Engorged, pent up, the dark aureole
Growing larger as a
Flower centre attracts butterflies and bees
The baby needs the mother
Heavy bounteous breasts
Milk of humanity
The whole world summed up
In two breasts, two aureoles, two bursting nipples
What choice
Satisfaction Contentment Fulfillment
Cow bells 24.12.08
The cows are herded out onto thefields by cow-boys. They all have wooden bells attached round their necks. Trying to describe their sound is difficult
My first description is this: musical in the sense of a wooden xylophone or a Gamelan from Java – a hollow sound, rhythmic like large dried peas in a tin or a tightly-stretched drum-skin, they can be heard from a long distance – serene and peaceful, tranquil, calming, restful, rustic, bucolic.
My second, more considered description – Wooden, hollow, from a distance the aggregated sound of lots of bells sounds like the distant noise of rounded pebbles rolling down a mountain stream with water splashing over them – very peaceful, restful, tranquil and calming. It is a tinkling sound even though the bells are wooden. Nearer, the sound is more like horses hooves trotting over a cobbled street in a medieval village – sharper, more distinct, rippling in calming soundwaves on the ears.
The Ginger Cat 24.12.08
He loves to have his tummy and head tickled by my bare toes. The lovely ginger cat keeps me company. He is young and lithe, just out of kittenhood, with a wonderful colouring. Mostly light ginger with a dark ridge running down his spine, his front legs and thighs have beautiful darker tiger stripes, his fur is soft, his underbelly is light mottled and his flanks are a lovely subtle ginger colour. His head is small, and he has a plaintive miaouw which he uses a lot because he is hungry. I give him tinned tuna and milk, he doesn’t seem to be all that interested in or familiar with the tuna but it is eaten reluctantly in the absence of anything else.
Notes on Waste Disposal made 28/12/08 as follows:
Waste Disposal (WD) is a real problem – for ME. It is not for the family, or the villagers or most Indonesians. It s only what is in the MIND – if they’ve never had any system of Waste Disposal, always throw their rubbish out in the street, garden and canals, they don’t know any different.
I’ve been used to European/Western standards of hygiene, Waste Disposal, environmental awareness, diseases, pollution etc. It is also aesthetic – rubbish to my eyes does not look good strewn around the garden. My house here is a fly-tip in both senses of the word – rubbish thrown out of the door, on the floor, strewn around the garden. Waste is discarded through the bamboo slats in the rear of the house (the kitchen/food prep area) to pile up in layers on which the chickens peck and roost (also cats and dogs scavenge). Everyone throws wrappers on the floor. There is gross over-packaging in Indonesia – even the smallest sweets are wrapped individually, blister packs and moulded containers for biscuits etc. Admittedly they don’t use tins (here), which don’t burn and have to be buried.
My problem is – How to dispose of MY waste rubbish? I have plastic bags which concentrate the rubbish in one package. If I throw this out, the dogs, cats, cows and chickens attack it and strew even more rubbish about. So – at first I stored the bags inside the house, thinking I would have a bonfire, burn the rubbish and bury what remained. But – (only) a limited amount of wood is available, what there is, is wet and muddy. I gathered enough for a reasonable bonfire on Christmas Day using old bamboo, broken window frame, coconut husks, waste newspaper balled inside an old cardboard box. This burnt smokily but satisfactorily – I burned all my plastic bags – what was left was a few tins and broken glass. I was going to bury this. But then I realized I could not do this every week – there is not enough wood, it is not good to dig too many pits in the garden. How was I to solve this problem? It was made even worse when the plastic bags I used were either used up or taken away for DISPOSAL elsewhere by someone else. I dread to think where they ended up. But it still left me with the problem of what to do with my ongoing waste. Pak Baha agreed that the glass bottles can be taken back to Makassar for sale and recycling. The plastic 2 litre (water) bottles will be used either for watering the trees or as buoys for seaweed farming.
The (general) waste I have noted:
Old clothes discarded anywhere, left to rot in the mud, plastic sandals (both adult and children’s), coconut husks, mango seeds, cigarette packets, wrappers for nuts, crisps and biscuits, plastic bags, cardboard, drink cartons, blister packs for batteries and tablets, sweet wrappers. MOST OF THIS IS COMBUSTIBLE.
MY WASTE consists of: milk and fruit drink cartons, tins, corn husks, newspaper, mie (noodle) wrappers, tissue paper, sweet wrappers, sauce wrappers, soup packets, bread wrappers, cornflake boxes, pill wrappers (malaria, panadol, senokot, waterproof plasters and plaster wrappings).
It is still a problem for ME, not for the family. Why should it be my problem? Why should I worry about THEIR waste when I can’t dispose of MINE? I worry about disease and infection, damage to the environment, pollution, the future of the children.
Why should I worry? Am I judging by western standards? Is there a solution? Can we organize a village rubbish dump? Will the locals use it? Will it be a WASTE OF TIME?
(I left Pandala on 2 January 2009 with the problem (my problem) still not resolved. I have given the matter serious thought with a view to exploring possibilities of waste disposal as a business for me to get involved in here.)
Notes 28/12/2008
Another day to live with and within myself. Less than one week to go now before I leave Pandala. We have made progress – I have cut more sticks today, we are ready to plant 5 trees each day for the next 4 days, my target is 20 trees planted and fenced by the end of my time here (3 Jan 2009). I think we can do it.
I am running short of supplies – water, fruit, vegetables, cigarettes. I still have Mie, sweets, cracker biscuits and tins of fruit. I need Telephone Credit.
I should go to Takalar or village market (pasar) in next 2 days. Today is too hot.
It is very quiet. Sunday, I still do not stop the passing fish and fruit sellers on their motors – I am not prepared, not quick enough, do not know what I will find ( or what I want).
My ankle sores (gained from working with boots too small, chafing against my skin with constant moisture from the perpetual rain) are hurting – I will take a rest. It is too HOT. NOTHING to do but think, SLEEP, EAT, THINK, REFLECT, SURVIVE ANOTHER DAY – now less than a week to go. But it still seems an awfully long time, each day nothing to do.