Comparison may be the thief of joy, but I’ve been unwittingly doing it since day one of arriving in Tarakan. And if I’ve tried to avoid it, others have asked me to do it, within an hour of landing. I think possibly what they may be asking or looking for is to relate our shared experience here with something I’ve lived in the near or distant past. So it doesn’t steal my joy or make me feel distant. I think it’s because me and others around me are grasping for connections, for things to relate to. It’s more about relatability than about comparison.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nevertheless, how is it possible to compare a place like this to Haiti? To Costa Rica? To Idaho? To Afghanistan? The very first day, Emely wondered aloud… are we in the Costa Rica of Southeast Asia? And a million connections surfaced in my mind. Yes, in so many ways this place reminds me of Costa Rica. Mixed with Afghanistan. If I could combine two places I’ve personally visited, it would be a blend of Costa Rica (socioeconomically, geographically, tropically) and Afghanistan (religiously, structurally)… but even then, those comparisons break down so quickly. It’s a crazy mosaic of tropical neoliberal progressive Islamic Asian pluralistic pacifist indirect collectivist attributes. So, really, impossible to categorize in any mental construct I have. Indonesia is it’s own thing. It’s like comparing pisang panggang and bananas. When we asked about finding “bananas,” the obvious confusion was followed by… which kind? There are at least 33. Which leads to my first Indonesian reply on an oil-extracting island where everything is imported… whatever banana-thing is available at the moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
(Immediately I will defer to my complete lack of knowledge in this area – I’ve been here less than two weeks and my experience only extends to a few streets on Tarakan. But time will tell how accurate my effort at relating this to other places is).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first thing that struck me on arriving, and yes, in a stark comparison with Haiti, was an active, clean, organized state infrastructure. Roads. Lights. Electricity. Water. Law enforcement. Traffic lights. Water drainage. Parks. Neighborhoods. This was my first impression, and in the two weeks following as we ran around doing errands in banks and government offices and (gasp!) the national health care system, my first impressions were confirmed, and surpassed. Comfortable, (air-conditioned!), clean, spacious, organized, professional state and commercial infrastructure. Priority areas up front for the elderly, women with kids or pregnant women, and people who are injured or disabled. “Western style?” toilets. The national health care system is three-tiered and covers 80% of the population. Score one point for the Costa Rica comparison. Add to that the people jogging on the streets and walking in public areas for exercise? An indirect approach to conflict and polite deference to strangers? A mellow, relaxed, unhurried approach to the daily flow? Yes, Costa Rica’s dream of itself and its reality in more rural areas. Again, though, what level of “culture” and public life are we describing, here? Cartago or Puntarenas, Costa Rica? Tarakan or Jakarta or Bali, Indonesia! I know there are nuances. But bear with the comparison. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Also, the presence of functioning industry – the paper factory, oil extraction, mining, fishing… something is generating a financial sector here. Also, the presence of commerce and consumerism – plenty of stores where you can find every equivalent of U.S. product you want. Gadgets and widgets and tools and craft stores and home depots and construction materials and cell phone tech and… all of it. Plus, grocery stores, coffee shops, a few fast food restaurant chains, local restaurants, “fancier?” restaurants, some gyms, exercise and walking areas… yes, all here for your enjoyment and comfort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, functioning infrastructure, industry, and consumer market. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Which is somewhat related to my second impression, again a straight comparison with the places I’ve lived before… a lack of pervasive, destitute poverty, and a lack of fear and distrust surrounding public crime and security. First, the poverty. I’m certain it exists, I’m certain it’s tucked away in corners and side streets and specific areas, and there is certainly an urban\/rural divide with a poverty-on-paper and isolation aspect of the “interior” villages. Those remote interior villages are the ones MAF flies to (although, once you have an airstrip or a road… there’s always a far side of the tracks, no matter how many layers deep you go). But let’s put the rural isolation poverty aside for a second. And also, the shanty towns and marginal areas of the city for now. What does poverty look like here? I’m not sure yet. But the main parts of the city, driving through town, are… navigable, by an outsider. There is nowhere near the level of in-your-face destitute poverty like in a place like Haiti. Or L.A, New York, Las Vegas or Portland.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nor crime, and that’s the other thing I didn’t quite pick up on at first, but through lots of questions and inquiries to others living here, I’m beginning to shape a different idea about public safety and crime. No one here is worried about muggings, burglaries, or assault. No fear of guns or break-ins. Gates are left unlocked, people freely walk the streets in daylight and at night, there aren’t any warnings about when to be out and where to go and whether or not to go anywhere alone. This is such a contrast to any country outside the (rural) U.S. I’ve lived in. Is it because the penalties for crime are so high? Is there a shame element to it? My assumption is that it has something to do with Muslim cultural influence, probably governance, and also probably the lack of outside influences. This feels like a much safer place to live.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Islamic influence here also stands out more than any other place I’ve been, besides Afghanistan. So far, the influence of Islam is comparable to Afghanistan, but (to my understanding so far, particularly here in Tarakan) without the more fundamentalist and social coercion aspects. It is more a part of the landscape, and doesn’t seem to have to assert itself in such a way as a place like Afghanistan. However, its presence is ubiquitous, in public dress (probably 2\/3 of women wear hijabs, and maybe a third of men wear some sort of robe or tequiyah caps), and in the landscape – and also the soundscape. There are more mosques here than there are churches in Nampa – I pass probably half a dozen on a morning walk. All the mosques stand out architecturally – that is, most public architecture and space is pretty drab and unassuming. The mosques, however, are beautiful and eclectic in their design and architecture – visually beautiful, gaudy, and loud<\/span>. And “loud” audibly as well, filling the neighborhoods 5 times a day, 24\/7 with calls to prayer from pe-dawn (4:15am) until late evening. I think the sermons and teachings are also broadcast from speakers. The call to prayer reaches everywhere in town – into quiet mornings, into homes, into workplaces. Some use higher quality speakers, most seem to use electronic bull-horn style broadcast. Some are sonorous and sung beautifully. Others are just… yelled, or mechanically recited. When far enough away, the sound is quiet pleasant and calming. But from less than a few blocks away, which most places are from at least one mosque, often two or three, the broadcast can feel alarming and quite intrusive. Oddly, though, I have not yet seen people praying in public spaces, with prayer mats or kneeling. I assume this happens inside the mosques or in closed doors, but I need to better understand this. Fridays, lots of things close down from 12pm noon until about 1pm for weekly worship. Sundays seem to be the one full day off for most Muslims.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Along the topic of outside influences, in contrast to Costa Rica, the island where we live is not<\/em> oriented toward tourists or visitors. It is all for locals. So, again similar to somewhere like Puntarenas contrasted to a place like Manuel Antonio or Jaco or Puerto Viejo. These restaurants and “commodities” are not for foreigners, tourists, or visitors. They are all for locals. Also in contrast to Haiti – Haiti actually has a very active layer of industry that caters to foreign travelers and tourists, missionaries, etc… There is some aspect to an ethnic class distinction – mainly between native Indonesians and Chinese immigrants, many of whom own are affluent and supervise\/own the more high-end businesses and restaurants. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Though not geared toward tourists, this is another contrast to Haiti and a big similarity with Costa Rica – the availability of cafe’s, restaurants, and commodity stores. I mentioned this before, but the big difference here, because there isn’t a local\/tourist economy split, is that restaurants and cafes are so inexpensive. Really elaborately prepared meals cost between $2-5 USD, $2 at cheaper restaurants for “local” fare and up to $5 for more eclectic or expensive dishes. Drinks cost about 75 cents to $3, $0.75 for sodas and plastic bottled drinks to about $3 for fancy blended coffees and juices. So eating out, for Emely and I, with a full meal each and a drink, costs around $10-$12. Eating out is so affordable. And again, not just for tourists! Cafes and restaurants are filled mostly with locals, and are affordable enough for that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Indonesia people drive on the left side of the road… when it’s convenient. This means the manufacturing of all the vehicles and everything is “backwards” from what I intuitively expect. There are centuries of influence from Dutch rule until Indonesia’s independence in 1945, which was actually from Japan (from the Netherlands four years later). Back then, Dutch practice was to drive on the left side of the road. They changed later, but Indonesia did not. But far more lasting and influential than Dutch occupation were the Muslim traders from centuries prior anyway. Also, there are persisting influences from England, Japan, Portugal, the USA, and China. And the Indonesian language, which established itself as a standardized variant of Malay, combines with Javanese (from its fifth largest island – but most heavily populated by far), plus the other languages that have influenced it, to form it’s own version of Malay that came into use over 500 years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n By this point, all these factors should begin to highlight the fact that Indonesia is truly a diverse mosaic of languages, cultures, and religions. Truly pluralistic, it’s impossible to summarize or generalize. You have to talk specifically about an island and even a region of an island to be talking with any sense at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few other brief observations. People here are smaller, shorter-stature. Which for the first time in my life, makes everything right-sized to me, and rather than feeling cramped or less roomy, everything feels appropriately sized. People buzz around on mopeds everywhere, and traffic is… “organic,” to say the least. Everyone drives slower, though. And here in Tarakan, it seems there is a less-formal vibe. Shorts and sandals are common. Shoes are removed when entering homes, and bare feet indoors are way more common than anywhere I’ve been in Central America. It has a collectivist, cooperative feel, rather than individualistic and competitive (in stark contrast to the U.S., but similar to Costa Rica). There’s a little bit of a strong-state-control and oversight, a little like Cuba, and social influence like in Afghanistan… but not as control or power-based. Neighborhood big men. Documentation and bureaucracy. Government “knows all and sees all.” Active military gives more of a Panama or Nicaragua whiff than Costa Rica. Also its social care sector – more like to Costa Rica. Tender and cooperative. Emphasis on taking things slowly, having a good, time, and taking time to enjoy a cafecito or a good laugh or an afternoon off. People are kind and courteous. Fun-loving and friendly, but not gregarious. Reserved and modest, mind their own business. They don’t stare, and for the most part avoid eye contact. But smile, are curious, and giggle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Really, nothing reminds me of Haiti here. Much more like Costa Rica.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Comparison may be the thief of joy, but I’ve been unwittingly doing it since day one of arriving in Tarakan. And if I’ve tried to avoid it, others have asked me to do it, within an hour of landing. I think possibly what they may be asking or looking for is to relate our shared… Read More »Compared to where I’ve lived before…<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"neve_meta_sidebar":"","neve_meta_container":"","neve_meta_enable_content_width":"","neve_meta_content_width":0,"neve_meta_title_alignment":"","neve_meta_author_avatar":"","neve_post_elements_order":"","neve_meta_disable_header":"","neve_meta_disable_footer":"","neve_meta_disable_title":"","_themeisle_gutenberg_block_has_review":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-274","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/274","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=274"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/274\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":281,"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/274\/revisions\/281"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=274"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=274"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/globalwanderer.net\/bdlfam\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=274"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}