The Boarding House

One of the things involved in this research is ethnographic mapping, for us it's essentially a long way of saying getting to know a neighborhood and identifying the children living there who fit within the parameters of our study. Once we have identified the children as a group, we work on sorting them into sub-groups, in this case by the type of job they do, where they live, time spent in Jakarta and so on. Once we know our sub-groups we identify where on our map we can find them, what time of day, what they're likely to be doing, so we can organize ourselves, meet them, and hopefully conduct an interview or two.

One of the sub-groups we identified in Jakarta was scavengers. We've all seen the pictures of children in Brazil or India or Mexico standing in a trash heap, a graveyard of tires and plastic bags and refrigerators, poking among the refuse with a stick, looking for things they can use or sell. Here children also go among trash outside of shops or homes looking for things like plastic or metal. Children who scavenge also go to food markets, sweeping rice that has fallen onto the ground during sales to take home with them and cook. 

Walking along the train tracks in East Jakarta, there were makeshift shelters on both sides of the tracks, unclaimed real estate because of the dust and the noise, it was the perfect place to build a home if you couldn't afford land or rent. These homes are made of iron sheeting, cardboard, discarded wooden planks, stolen pieces of fencing. When researchers first told me that many children were living in boarding houses, I pictured large buildings with mean caretakers, the boarding houses of movies and stories. But as we walked along the tracks they pointed out temporary shelters, calling them boarding houses. Ah yes, houses made of boards.

Two researchers entered one of the houses after being invited in, so as not to cause a stir with my foreign-ness I hid outside around the corner, sitting on a wall and watching the busy movement of the community. But then one of the men living in this boarding house saw me and brought me inside. A new cardboard box had been torn apart and laid on the dirt for the occasion of our arrival.  Two interviews were taking place, but the interviewers explained that I spoke no bahasa indonesia, and therefore could not eavesdrop on these private conversations. So I sat. There were large bags of organized plastic and metal and cardboard that would be taken for recycling, the scavengers paid by the kilo. There was no roof, just the shelter of a tree against which the makeshift building was leaning. Amazingly there was a dispenser for water (obviously stolen from a nearby educational institution), atop of which sat a giant bottle of water. Two boys were interviewed, two adults and their small daughter sat nearby, curious. The other five people who live in this shelter, which is 10 ft x 20 ft at the very most, were out working. I was concurrently sitting in their living room, dining room, bedroom, kitchen and entryway. How kind of them to invite me in.

Dig a Little Deeper

In our daily lives we hear all sorts of rumor and innuendo, whether we choose to believe it, doubt it, or dismiss it is completely up to us. The basis for those choices may come from reason, faith, culture, upbringing, intuition, or our trust or distrust in the source of that information.

After hearing from various sources that many (or even most) of the girls in prostitution in Jakarta are from Indramayu, I was at first doubtful, because given the number of girls, it simply seemed improbable that so many of them would be from the same district. After hearing about these girls from a variety of sources including both international and local NGOs and from community members, my doubt dissipated and my interest was piqued. At one particular NGO I asked, through an interpreter, why it was that so many young prostituted girls came from the same region of Java. After several minutes of Bahasa, clarification, and more questions, none of which could I understand, the interpreter leaned over to me, obviously embarrassed. Then she said in a low voice "He says, it is their magic vaginas." Using all my willpower to hold in my reaction I asked, "Oh really? What makes them magic?" Because, you see, if you show your disbelief, those who do believe are hesitant to explore their reasons for their confidence. It was then explained that among other things, these girls were simply born to a breed of women with special sexual powers, further enhanced by prayers said over them by their parents. They asked God to bring their daughters wealth and prosperity, by way of their magic vaginas. My interpreter then leaned over, an incredulous look on her face, "I don't know if this is true, maybe they are not really magic?" I shrugged my shoulders, and said, "Maybe not..."

I told friends and co-workers the story, trying to explore this myth that had traveled from other parts of this island all the way to the capital, with otherwise grounded people unsure how else to explain the phenomenon. Then I hit the jackpot. I brought up the question again in an interview, and not just for my own curiosity mind you, but also because if the reason for so many girls from the same place being the subjects of commercial sexual exploitation could be identified, it would have significant implications for child protection programming.

Turns out that the person I was interviewing was writing his thesis about the girls from Indramayu, and there was much more to the story. It started when Indonesia was still under Dutch control, and the area was populated to expand agricultural use of the land, with all materials and produce entering and leaving the area by train. The train was also the main means of transportation at the time, and so the town grew up around the train tracks. With commerce and many travelers passing through, the sex trade sprang up. The region recognized and accepted this, so that even today when residents register their job in government records, they may elect to write sex worker. According to government data, in some sub-districts over 80% or women over 18 are sex workers,  with others as low as 15%.

So the girls who come to Jakarta from Indramayu may not have magic vaginas, but they do come from a place different from others in Indonesia, where sex work is not only normalized, but recognized by the government. Additionally, there exists a provision, stipulated by the community, that women must be married to engage in sex work, as that is what makes a female an adult. But girls also tend to marry young, could they be marrying just to get into "the family business"?  If girls, 14 - 18 for example, are viewed as adults by members of their community, but then move to a community that recognizes neither their adulthood nor their right to consent to sex, which set of values overrules the other? In what circumstances do we, as an international community or as outsiders, have the right to judge another cultures practices and beliefs? When do children become adults? When, if ever, do individuals have the right to bodily autonomy, including the right to sell access to that body?

More questions than answers as always. More to come as data collection started today!

All Aboard

Hello from Jakarta! Apparently my jetlag is still rearing its ugly head, I woke up at about 4am today! But rather than idle my hours away I thought I'd share a few tips about airplane flying. I know some of you are frequent travelers, but during my long flight to Taipei with very little entertainment I came up with a few tips that I wish I had known when I started.

1. You get to check bags for free! Don't bother hauling big bags on board unless you absolutely have to.

2. Airplanes are COLD, or can be. I usually bring a sweatshirt or fleece, even if I'm going to somewhere warm. Now I've even got an extra blanket in case the airline doesn't provide them.

3. Warm socks. You'll be taking your shoes off since your feet and legs will swell, don't let your toes get cold!

4. Dry Air. This can be killer, especially on long flights, I try to remember eye drops, chapstick, and lotion.

5. Hydrate! Since 3 or 4 little cups of water isn't enough over 12 or 15 hours, bring your own! Bring your empty water bottle from home and then fill it up once you've passed through security, rather than paying $4 for water in the airport.

6. Don't forget headphones in case they aren't provided

7. Snacks are a good idea, but don't forget you're essentially sitting still for more than half a day, so light snacks are best. Unless it's chocolate. Then it's always a good idea.

8. Sleep. I'm pretty bad at sleeping on airplanes, but a good eye mask, heavy duty earplugs, and a window seat so I can lean my head on the wall help make sure I get a little rest.

9. I take off my watch. Everyone may not like this, but it's no fun counting down the hours, I find it's better to just sit back and ignore the time. A watched pot and all that.

10. Mental conditioning. This may sound silly, but think about all those times you wished you had an hour just to listen to a new album or read a book or magazine. Just tell yourself you're enjoying sitting still, reading, listening to music and having someone bring you mini drinks and meals. After a while you just might believe it :)

There you have it! I'll have more interesting stories coming for you soon, but I've spent the weekend settling into Jakarta and having a lovely time seeing some sights with friends who live here. A beautiful city so far (with delicious food!).