Sauyee's Reflections

(I am writing this as I sit freezing in the air-conditioned bus on my way back home.)

Although our stay at Tanjung Balai, Indonesia, was no doubt short and fleeting compared to the scheduled Yunnan trip, there was much to learn even as a condensed version of service-learning. Very importantly, today’s excursion to Balai allowed us to exercise the questioning/reflective process that has been emphasized since our first SL workshop. In retrospect, though it’s regrettable that we didn’t make it to Yunnan, I believe that learning opportunities are abound so long as one looks hard enough.

Of course, skeptics may have reservations: was it worth it, so to speak, to invest all that energy, money, time into a 1-day trip for somewhat minimal, intangible learning outcomes? After all, pragmatically speaking, if we had saved on the ferry tickets and et cetera we could have channeled more funds to the needy in the village. Though a reasonable argument, to me this boils down to the rationale behind organizing overseas outreach programmes – the overseas component is essential because, by immersing participants in an entirely different cultural context, it allows one to be temporarily detached from the assumptions that are deeply ingrained in our belief systems, upbringings, or society. As the Chinese saying goes, “____.” In this respect, our rendezvous with Balai was not any lacking in impact.

First of all, there was the culture shock. As a first-time visitor to Indonesia and an ignorant teenager, prior to the trip I was oblivious to the fact that Singapore and Balai are – allow me to be dramatic – worlds apart. (While this is not to say that the latter is inferior, I merely want to highlight the stark contrast, considering the proximity of the two regions.) The Singapore Cruise Centre, the terminal from which we departed, was pristine, high-tech, quintessentially first-class; in contrast, its counterpart at Balai was humble, unpolished and somewhat primitive. One can instantly tell that Balai is not a popular tourist’s destination – the locals stared with unsuppressed curiosity as we marched past in striking orange and blue, and there were no shops (not to mention shopping malls) in sight offering souvenirs or maps for tourists. Motorcycles roamed freely on the road. Even the air smelled different – a tinge of seawater fused with people’s sweat in the unforgiving heat. I secretly wondered if Singapore, once a fishing village herself, was like this.

In addition, we had to confront the language barrier. Unable to converse even simple phrases in Bahasa Malayu or Bahasa Indoesnia, I was effectively handicapped. Although the linguistic prowess of Ms Yanti and Jin Yi in the group helped initiate and facilitate communication, there was this uneasy awareness that we are ultimately just outsiders prying into the villagers’ lives. Perhaps it was also the frustration of having no direct access to their thoughts, as we were treated as guests and conversations were very polite. Was the girl annoyed at any point, when we bombarded her with questions about her personal life? Were there nuances in expressions and underlying emotions that went unnoticed? The teachers told us that one of the region’s main trades is prostitution – was there any in the village? Is it a taboo?... Questions like these linger in my head. I just think it’s too condescending, and somewhat offensive, to see all villagers as one-dimensional and romanticize them as a universally good-natured people.


As the subzero temperature on the bus sends shivers down my spine, I can’t help but to miss the breeze that brushed against my cheeks at Balai.