Rice Field Adventure

A couple weekends ago a friend and I decided to go for a walk. We walked through the complex that I live in, through a narrow alley way, and ended up in a nearby kampung. The closest translation that I can find to that word in English is village. But basically it is an Indonesian neighborhood (sometimes translated as ghetto) where locals live. As we walked, we passed people walking along the streets and said hello. We passed people just sitting around on their porches and they asked us where we were going. We passed children playing and trying to hide their smiling faces from us. It's rare that white people come around and walk along these roads. Some people laughed and began talking about us as we passed. Some people starred at us blankly and said nothing. As we walked we came across rice field after rice field. All the fields were in different phases. Some just barely sprouting up, others ready to be harvested; some toiled and ready to be planted, others just recently cut down and laying barren. My friend was preparing to leave Indonesia that coming week. She had just a few days left before she would get on a plane and fly back to America. Her time of student teaching at our school was drawing to a close and she was moving onto other things. So as we walked we talked about her time here and her experiences in Indoensia. We laughed at funny things that had happened and processed through some of the hard stuff. On our way back home, as we were about to leave this area and return to the complex where I live, we passed one last rice field. A group of women were working in the field that was ready to be planted. We stopped to watch and I told my friend of the time when I had helped plant a rice field. She thought that was so cool and started taking some pictures of the women. They called out to us and laughed as they saw her with her camera. I asked (in what little Indonesian I know) if it was all right for us to take some photos and if we could come closer. They laughed nervously and continued to shout out to us. Unfortunately, I did not fully understand everything they were saying, but it did not really matter. They were friendly and we were up for some adventure so we followed the path out to the field where they were working. There was a group of 5 women working to plant and I asked them if we could join them and if they could teach us how. My friend needed to have the experience of planting rice in her last weekend in Indoensia. So we jumped into the field, knee deep in mud, and for about an hour planted rice along side these women. They were very concerned about us being dirty and laughed a little about us being there. One women told me, "What are your friends going to say when you come home covered in mud?" I told her, "they will probably want to come join too." After we had finished a small field we felt successful (and exhausted) and decided it was time for us to go. They were going to keep on working, because there was lots more work to be done. As we were leaving they asked if we wanted to come to their house. I really wanted to but I knew my friend needed to go somewhere. I told them I wanted to come back later. They asked "tomorrow?" Here are some pictures along our walk and of us in the mud. Indonesia is a beautiful place, full of beautiful people. It is beginning to capture my heart.

I love how this house is completely surrounded by rice fields.

Some of the kids we met along the way. Sometimes Indonesian kids are

really shy but these boys were brave enough to pose in front of the camera.

They plant the rice in such straight rows.

This field is sprouting up- so much green.

They make these grid lines to guide where to plant the rice-

that's how they get it so straight.

Then they use those bundles of small sprouts to plant the field. They shove them into the soft soil along the crosses of the grid.

This man is smoothing out the field so that he can use another tool to make

the grid lines. Then later they will begin planting.

This little guy helps carry the sprouts to be planted out to the fields.

Here are some of my new friends.

They were hard at work when we asked if we could help. Perhaps they were glad for the extra hands.

Can you spot the bules (white people)? It's kind of hard to miss us. We are the ones lagging behind because we are so slow and bad at doing this.

The small field completed. Many more to go for these ladies. Enough for us for today.

Caitlyn and I, sweaty...

... and muddy.

This is what our field will look like later after it has a chance to grow- ready for harvest.