|
July 1999
Dear "Fathers and Mothers, Sisters and Brothers, Who are
Most Honored,"
In Indonesia, everyone you care about is addressed as an honored
family member. Those of you who do not receive our e-mail letters
may be concerned, or at least mildly curious about what we are
doing in the midst of the upheaval called "reformation"
in Indonesia. It hardly seems like a year and a half since Farsijana
and I moved to Yogyakarta. Time goes topsy-turvy when a revolution
is brewing. Sometimes the situation seems to change by the minute.
Other times, the stress of waiting for the resolution of enormous
tensions seems to drag on forever. Time stops and it feels like
the twilight zone.
Just over a year ago, major Indonesian cities erupted into a
frenzy of looting, burning, and killing that shocked the nation
to the core. Indonesians are gentle, polite people, known for
their warm smiles and generous hospitality. They have an ancient
history of religious and ethnic diversity with a remarkable tradition
of tolerance and interreligious harmony. But now they were "mad
as hell and not going to take it any more!" (Remember Network,
or more like it, The Year of Living Dangerously?) The targets
of violence were businesses associated with the corrupt family
and friends of President Suharto. In some places ethnic Chinese
also became victims of mobs. It looked like the beginning of a
descent into chaos and/or civil war. Most foreigners left the
country. Meanwhile a great army of hundreds of thousands of students
took to the streets for daily demonstrations. Long-buried religious
and ethnic tensions festered into the open, stimulated by mysterious
"provocateurs."
The causes of the riots and demonstrations were clear and simple:
(1) disgust with an unjust, repressive government that had lost
all semblance of democratic legitimacy and (2) skyrocketing poverty
due to the collapse of a debt-ridden economy that was riddled
with corruption. The solution also seemed simple and clear. Increasingly
bold student demonstrators expressed it with the terrible clarity
of hyperbole: "Hang Suharto!" Pretty strong stuff in
a country where you could go to jail for "defaming the President."
I will never forget May 20, 1998. We decided not to stay at home
and get ulcers watching the news on TV, where all the violence
in the whole country is concentrated into one little box. The
students and faculty of Duta Wacana Christian University, where
I teach, were going to march and sit as a group in the great demonstrations
planned. In our small city of Yogyakarta, 500,000 people marched
that day in grave silence. Students borrowed our aging car to
be used as an ambulance in the likelihood of violence. But that
day, not a soldier was in sight, and not a window was broken.
We sat together under the blazing sun, in awe-filled amazement
as a sea of people spoke with one voice for the impeachment of
their president. A hilarious impersonator gave a satirized speech
by Suharto to lighten the mood. The following day, the real President
Suharto resigned from office after 32 years in power.
Habibie, an unpopular protégé of Soeharto, became
President and promised fair elections within a year. The relatively
honest elections in June 1999 inaugurated Indonesia as the third
largest democratic country in the world. Over a hundred million
adults cast their votes and the outcome was a surprise. "Reformation"
parties won a resounding majority of the popular vote with the
bulk going to Megawati, an enigmatic, nationalist woman opposed
by Muslim parties. Nevertheless, the fate of the nation remains
fragile. The President is chosen by parliament and the installation
of the new parliament has been delayed. Political intrigues abound.
The powerful are loath to step down and the stakes are enormous.
One thing is clear: if Mega does not become president, the nation
will erupt again. Please remember us in your prayers. Indonesia
is the fourth largest country in the world.
Meanwhile, after eight precious months together, Farsijana returned
to Holland to begin her Ph.D. program in anthropology/sociology,
and I took up a new position as vice-director of the graduate
program at Duta Wacana. Thank God for e-mail. We could still "talk"
to each other every day. Few can fully understand the lonely,
herculean task of mastering mountains of books in foreign languages.
In early July Farsijana returned to Indonesia in triumph with
full funding for research and writing. Next month she moves to
the island of Halmahera (North Molucca), to study how villagers
cope with globalization. Amazing how the bananas we eat can change
the lifestyle, values, religious practices and family relations
in villages at the other end of the world. Farsijana is studying
how and why this is happening.
I have plunged into the task of strengthening the graduate program
at Duta Wacana. It’s a rare privilege, as a Westerner in
the post-colonial era, to be entrusted with administrative responsibility.
I work with Indonesian colleagues who are intelligent, organized,
honest and committed to God and the people of Indonesia. Am I
blessed or what? I’m also grateful for graduate students
who are bright, questioning, eager to learn and willing to work
hard. They come from all over Indonesia and will return to leadership
positions in their denominations or universities. The program
aims to build the intellectual, moral and spiritual skills needed
in Indonesia. Faculty and students are struggling to understand
the meaning of authentic, biblical faith in the unique Indonesian
context. We live in the largest Muslim community in the world,
in a nation experiencing breathtaking social change, massive poverty
and bewildering globalization. We need well-educated leaders who
love God, the Church and the people with all their heart, mind,
soul and strength. Fortunately we have some and they are teaching
me more than I teach them.
Last January, during a visit by Farsijana, we moved into our
new home, "Pondok Tali Rasa." The name signifies a home
where people are tied together by feeling, thought and taste.
It is a large, beautiful house with arches, soaring ceilings,
fountains and an eclectic mixture of Indonesian and Western architecture.
In the front there is a large, open, Javanese pavilion. We are
located in a Muslim community near to the academic center of Yogya
that has a mixture of traditional, poor villagers, university
professors and students. The house is designed with three parts:
(1) the pavilion, fish pond and front area that are open and used
by the whole community, (2) the downstairs and side garden that
are for extended "family" and guests, and (3) he upstairs
bedrooms and studies for family use. There are lots of balconies
and a "crows-nest" for prayer, meditation and a view
of the smoldering Merapi volcano.
Everyday the house rings with the laughter and shouts of children
playing. Farsijana initiated children’s activities in the
pavilion that have taken on a life of their own. We share a vision
for creative, educational programs for children from poor families.
The pavilion is also used for music and art performances, discussion
groups and meetings. Sometimes teenagers hang out there and play
games or jam with guitars. The community suffers from high unemployment
and drug abuse. Four students and numerous guests also share the
house with us. You’re invited! One of the students and two
helpers are Muslim. We want to model how people with strong religious
commitments can live in peace and harmony.
It’s nice to have too much to do, but to live in a culture
where it’s OK not to hurry. We would love to hear from you.
Please use e-mail if you can. Thank you for your prayers and support.
Love from afar knows no boundaries.
Warm regards,
Bernard & Farsijana Adeney-Risakotta
The 1999 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, page
155
|
