While volunteering last year in NYC, most activities more expensive than free were difficult to budget for. One of my roommates kept insisting that if we would just explain that we're volunteers, the doors would open widely for us, as if "volunteer" was some secret password. We then decided that the reason for this would be because we were the equivalent of something we termed "peace ninjas".
Well, in Malaysia, people seem to have caught on to this idea. This week, I was treated to a three day, three night trip to the Borneo Rainforest Lodge in Lahad Datu on the east coast. My KK host mom (I have two host families, one in the village and one in the city) works for Borneo Tours, and was going there to attend a "green practices" workshop. She had asked me to go when I first arrived in Malaysia, but all I heard was "green conference"..."east cost"...trip....and gladly agreed to go anywhere. I didn't realize the location was a swanky lodge in Danum Valley rainforest, a place I could only hope to visit maybe 10 years from now once I get some real income coming my way...
Needless to say, both the manmade and natural environment were beautiful! I got to eat western food for the first time in a long time, went trekking wearing "kampung (village) adidas" which I borrowed from a guide since I was so unprepared to be where I was, saw a leopard cat, orangutan, red leaf monkeys, lazy loris, and many birds, amphibians, insects, and reptiles. I also got to hang out with the staff the whole time and learned a lot about ecotourism! The woman leading the workshop was from the Netherlands and had lived at the Lodge for nine months previously to help them "go green", and it was great to hear about someone else's challenges as the sole orang puti (white person) in an organization. One of the guides was also very helpful in explaining some of the finer points of cultural differences that no one else had explained to me. Unfortunately, after this, I realized how many people I've probably irreversibly, and completely inadvertently, offended. I was also offered a job there (probably a joke, but...) as a tour translator. I feel I could be like a "green supervisor" or something too ;-) And, now I have contacts in the Sabah tourist industry so wow!
On Monday, I go back to the village, hopefully rejuvenated and positive.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Rural Development
Time is expanding and shrinking. Distance doesn't make any sense either. Reflections on two weeks of placement, go:
Awkward is my default state. You're scared of me? Well, I'm scared of you. People are not aggressively curious as in South America or the Caribbean, but rather shy. My own shyness, which I thought I had mostly outgrown, reemerges as a result. The language barrier doesn't help. If they would just stick to one, I could probably get a grasp on it, but that's not the case. Bahasa Malay and Dusun or mostly Dusun? is/are spoken in the village. They mix and switch and jump. They are, however, rather surprised that I don't speak BM... So, I'm pretty disheartened linguistically most of the time. I do have to give everyone credit for speaking, or attempting, English. And, after all, English usage is what I'm here to inspire.
The projects are all valuable, and I'm starting to see how they fit together. The hostel is there to provide a home away from home for the children who come from very remote villages while they attend school, and clearly serves its purpose. The Rural Training Center is there because the hostel is there. The children in the hostel don't belong to the same community where they live five days a week. However, the community technically hosts them, especially since the building they use is an extension of the church. So what does the community get out of letting Pusat Kabajikan Good Shepherd (PKGS) run the hostel? The Rural Resource Center, which is supposed to belong to them. The goal is for the facility to be used by the community for training, meeting, development etc. but they've yet to embrace it as their own. So, twice a week, the staff (who are natives but not locals) run programs for all the children in the village. The idea is to reach the adults, especially the women, through the children. The Mobile Resource Center does a similar thing but in more remote villages. My role is to support the staff of the different projects to develop the programs and provide ideas and examples from my own experience, so broaden horizons with cross-cultural diffusion.
All of this was not obvious to me as I spent the first week feeling like an interloper. Everyone seemed to have everything under control as far as I could tell. There was definitely a need, but they were taking care of it. So, I opened my mouth. It's hard to know when you should share and when you shouldn't. Although I felt better once things were explained to me, and my options outlined, much better in fact, some of the solutions were less than ideal. Already I've had to back out of some, and may have accidentally made some things more difficult for myself. At least the lines of communication have been opened. The passage of time also helps. Already I'm starting to interact more with the kids and the community and feel like I'm settling in.
This weekend I went to one of my co-worker's village (kampong). People in the kampongs are mostly farmers (rice and fruit) and rubber harvesters. Their homes are simple, and it really makes me reflect on how little people actually need...especially if they live in tropical climates. Every house I've been to has had running water, not because they're connected to a public grid, but because they have gravity water systems. Rain water collects in large, raised vessels, and water flows down through the pipes when you turn on the faucet. Not everyone has electricity though, so they may have generators or solar panels or just kerosene lamps and candles. Of course, none of this would work in most developed countries due to climate...which makes me wonder why so many people live in such inhospitable climates? And also how dependent we are on the government and the market system for access to basic needs...
Awkward is my default state. You're scared of me? Well, I'm scared of you. People are not aggressively curious as in South America or the Caribbean, but rather shy. My own shyness, which I thought I had mostly outgrown, reemerges as a result. The language barrier doesn't help. If they would just stick to one, I could probably get a grasp on it, but that's not the case. Bahasa Malay and Dusun or mostly Dusun? is/are spoken in the village. They mix and switch and jump. They are, however, rather surprised that I don't speak BM... So, I'm pretty disheartened linguistically most of the time. I do have to give everyone credit for speaking, or attempting, English. And, after all, English usage is what I'm here to inspire.
The projects are all valuable, and I'm starting to see how they fit together. The hostel is there to provide a home away from home for the children who come from very remote villages while they attend school, and clearly serves its purpose. The Rural Training Center is there because the hostel is there. The children in the hostel don't belong to the same community where they live five days a week. However, the community technically hosts them, especially since the building they use is an extension of the church. So what does the community get out of letting Pusat Kabajikan Good Shepherd (PKGS) run the hostel? The Rural Resource Center, which is supposed to belong to them. The goal is for the facility to be used by the community for training, meeting, development etc. but they've yet to embrace it as their own. So, twice a week, the staff (who are natives but not locals) run programs for all the children in the village. The idea is to reach the adults, especially the women, through the children. The Mobile Resource Center does a similar thing but in more remote villages. My role is to support the staff of the different projects to develop the programs and provide ideas and examples from my own experience, so broaden horizons with cross-cultural diffusion.
All of this was not obvious to me as I spent the first week feeling like an interloper. Everyone seemed to have everything under control as far as I could tell. There was definitely a need, but they were taking care of it. So, I opened my mouth. It's hard to know when you should share and when you shouldn't. Although I felt better once things were explained to me, and my options outlined, much better in fact, some of the solutions were less than ideal. Already I've had to back out of some, and may have accidentally made some things more difficult for myself. At least the lines of communication have been opened. The passage of time also helps. Already I'm starting to interact more with the kids and the community and feel like I'm settling in.
This weekend I went to one of my co-worker's village (kampong). People in the kampongs are mostly farmers (rice and fruit) and rubber harvesters. Their homes are simple, and it really makes me reflect on how little people actually need...especially if they live in tropical climates. Every house I've been to has had running water, not because they're connected to a public grid, but because they have gravity water systems. Rain water collects in large, raised vessels, and water flows down through the pipes when you turn on the faucet. Not everyone has electricity though, so they may have generators or solar panels or just kerosene lamps and candles. Of course, none of this would work in most developed countries due to climate...which makes me wonder why so many people live in such inhospitable climates? And also how dependent we are on the government and the market system for access to basic needs...
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