I’m writing on my last day at ASRI. Here, I have spent and experienced time with the staff that has infinitely doubled my appreciation for their dedication. And, along with Kari Malen, HIH’s extraordinary Volunteer Director, have spent nearly 7 days with 12 women representing Dining for Women who have equally doubled my appreciation for courage and what can be accomplished by a few dedicated people whose hearts are as big as the Gunung Palung rainforest and National Park no matter what side of the world they’re from. And it’s not just their collective passion that is as inspiring as it is humbling, it is that they truly “just do it.”

Green Day celebrates the conclusion of the community planting season with thousands of seedlings now in the ground and several dozen more dug in to their pre-made holes with willing hands by a legion of volunteers hailing from the villages of West Kalimantan to distant North American cities and towns. Gathering at the site of the Lamong Satong nursery, many assemble under a large canvas tarp, others shelter under a thatched gazebo, still others assume an Indonesian squat that for most westerners is unavailable. Mitta, a dental student volunteer from Jakarta narrates the performances like pearls on an exquisite string. Voices of nearly 2 dozen school-age children sing out a song honoring the Gunung Palung. Dayak girls dressed in sequined shimmering red tunics with a most exquisite and sacred head feather pointed straight to the sky. An elder reading a scroll poem that flowed from his hands as the words were read like water. Finally, the ASRI staff, including Holy (Head Nurse Will and Nurse Clara’s daughter), raise their voices in song with this poor western ear picking up only the refrain: alam sehat lestari – harmony with nature, and knowing that is what we work for. “In my philosophy,” Will said, “I can make everyone happy with my guitar playing and singing. I’ve always played for my friends everywhere. I want my daughter, Holy, to see how happy every people are to come from everywhere for Green Day. I want her to join with us and teach her for the future how to save the world by doing little things to big things.” As the day folds, the gathered slowly disassemble as hugs, handshakes and smiles that beam beyond words are shared.

Only the day before, we’d gathered for a different but as powerful celebration when the 12 Dining for Women travelers participated in placing of 10 goats with 10 widows at Harapan Mulia (noble hope) as part of the Dining For Women’s generous grant and commitment to ASRI’s Goats for Widows program. Awaiting our arrival were 10 goats carefully swaddled in plastic-weave “burlap” bags to keep them safe during transport. After a lovely introduction by Hotlin Ompusunggu and brief talk from Ibu Setiawati, Goats for Widows Coordinator, the work of freeing and sorting the goats began. Earlier, each widow had drawn a number associated with a number of each goat. Sons, friends and ASRI staff kneeled carefully over each goat to undo the bag’s wrappings, often with a lit match or sadly even a cigarette to melt the strands. (This is an ingenious place when tools we in the developed world would want are not at hand.) As the late morning sun poured into a courtyard filled, each intended widow awaited side-by-side often holding hands with her Dining for Women companion who had also drawn a number. Children swarmed around the gathering with eager smiles. There were few dry eyes as those widows who lived close, peeled off with their companions and goats to head for their humble homes. Stories shared through hands held, smiles and laughter wrapped the groups in such a love as seldom beheld.

“Let us keep walking hand in hand with community for the benefit of human and environmental health,” Monica Ruth Nirmala, ASRI Dentist. She was talking about Green Day and how it “was not only a celebration of ASRI…but the poems, songs, and dances by the community had shown that it was a celebration of the community.” As I close, the Imam calls the devout to prayer. I am lulled by the deep vibrant voice and appreciation in knowing that the universe provides in so many ways we may never have imagined. And I think that from one end of the world to the other, for a few days we joined hands, honored this work, inspired each other and left as friends united in a vision of noble hope.

In gratitude,
Michelle

PS – We took a lot more pictures of Green Day! Some of them are up on Facebook now. Just go here: www.facebook.com/Health1nHarmony to see the album, including Green Days of years past.

Awakened by the sharp inquiring whoops of gibbons and twittering of unseen birds, we stir beneath dawn lifting the dream curtain slowly. A silk wind renders the morning almost cool. Today, we are headed for Pondok Tanggwei. Reaching the dock and boardwalk to the feeding station mere hours later, the heat is on and everyone feels damp, sticky, hot. The short, one kilometer, trail is thankfully shaded – well, most of it – and is in and of itself worth appreciating as journeys always are. The green wash of abundance is deceiving. At first it is as if everything is just green and generally big, tall and/or wide. But then we take time to see: trees with a black resin that creates a nasty skin inflammation in people but also bares a fruit desired by the orangutans; small, fig-like fruits that wash through the mouth tart and sweet; exotic, colorful flowers and jewel-tone pitcher plants.

Here at Pondok Tanggwei we meet Messurin, king of this station. His humongous black half moon cheek-chops frame depthless inky-black-brown eyes. I think it is the sense that those eyes are truly looking back from that depth that one feels such connection with these near cousins. Our group grows collectively silent with awe. A female and her baby arrive even as we sense the mysterious rustling of the forest as more orangutans pendulum their way towards the clearing, gliding forward into sight, swinging between jack straw like trees and ambling down swaying snags. Oddly, I am reminded of Cirque de Soliel’s choreography, the once popular children’s movie, Fern Gully, where wee magic people flit amongst the Banyan tree’s twisted arms, and more recently Avatar’s heroic rainforest scenes. I imagine that what we are seeing and experiencing is a source of creative inspiration and has been for a very long time. Reading (fittingly – and to be recommended for travel to Borneo), Stranger in the Forest, by Eric Hansen, I recall a passage where he was describes a bevy of rainforest plants, barks and roots that were said by the Penan people to cure everything from hepatitis to Hodgkins disease. Today, our pharmaceutical companies attempt to copy these miracles in sterile labs. Now if we could only successfully imitates nature’s way of restoring balance to our planet and our lives, that would be something.

We turn our backs with reluctance, returning slowly to the dock. A lethargy settles in amongst us. There is yet one more stop, only a short ways up the river, Camp Leakey, the crown jewel of the trip. The brief ride is welcome simply for the silky breeze. Smiles, if not nearly as radiant as earlier this morning, still grace the group. We arrive at Camp Leakey, founded by Dr. Birute Galdikas in 1972, who along with Drs. Dian Fossi and Jane Goodall were Dr. Leakey’s students: women that pioneered in the study of orangutans, gorillas and, of course, chimpanzees. Unlike the other docks where there may have been 2 or 3 other large cradle boats, here there are nearly a dozen; harbingers of the tourist season to come where as yet, no limits have been set on numbers. Captain Iyan choreographs our arrival with the smaller of the two boats going in first and nuzzling between the flat board backs and pointy snouts of the other boats. It is always breath-holding moments while we disembark.

This boardwalk is long, 400-500 meters, and less well repaired but still quite sturdy as iron wood, now virtually extinct, is known to be. The dark water beneath is a stain-glass reflection of tannin, blue sky reflections, silken pods of floating algae, green leafy trees. Upon turning the corner of the rangers three-sided green wood cabin – the fourth side being chain link fence – we encounter the mother of the station’s alpha male, Tom, and her newest baby Toot. Spying a thin can of Sprite in the hands of one of the women, Tom’s mother reaches out rubber band like to grab the woman’s wrist. The Sprite is even more quickly relinquished. Contact is noted with both awe and fright. On we go to the feeding station where we will sit mesmerized for the better part of an hour meeting Ponoroggo, Charloss, Unuial. Alexia and a host of others who seem most astounding mothers, babies, adolescents and young men living in this orangutan sanctuary. All rescued and now dependent upon the largesse of this place, the individuals move in and amongst us with little hesitation. In the proximity to sentient beings so like ourselves, my eyes sting with salty tears knowing that there are forces in the world that would exterminate these gentle creatures for what is fleetingly and falsely believed to be a greater profit than life’s biodiversity.

The reluctance to leave is palpable but night falls unforgivingly and with no hesitation here. We return to the boats and Captain Iyan finds a nook to tuck the 3 kelatok boats, 18 women, 5 deck hands, 1 cook and 2 guides in for the night. Again we migrate to the largest deck to share dinner family style. Afterwards, we settle into our plastic chairs for a conversation with Etty about what it is like to be a Muslim woman in Indonesia. I wonder but know it is inappropriate to ask what is is like to be a Christian woman in Indonesia where the predominant religion is Muslim. Tonight the only religion that seems to breath among us though is the deep camaraderie and ease of wonder in women-time. Later we are awed by Flying Fox Bats winging their way to nightly feeding grounds. Beds are again made up, dreamy gauze strung to fashion wavy walls. Serenaded by crickets and frogs, sleep slips over all quickly. The Captain tells us we’ll rise early for the return to Pangkala Bun, about 6 hours from our current location on the Simpan Kanan River. I awake well before dawn even as a gray wash begins to climb into the night sky. I clamor onto the bow wrapped in my light sheet where sitting in silence is enough as I watch Flying Fox Bats on their return flyway.

Gliding down the Simpan Kanan River, I watch the bow push into the wavy line where clear watery edge meets mudded edge of the Sekonyer River, rippling like a water snake. We move into the ochre flow leaving Camp Leaky, Messurin and Tom’s mom behind. Nipa palms and mangrove swamps flutter in our wake screening a primary forest beyond that is 65% degraded. Where do we draw lines, I wonder? How far are we willing to go to have what we want? Or, to save what we have?

Good afternoon to the dedicated and therefore, to me, fortunate fellow Health in Harmony volunteers.

Me (at left) and ASRI staff in clinic at snack time!

Michelle and Rosevan asked, because I am both an ASRI volunteer and member of the Health in Harmony Board of Directors, would I write the ASRI final volunteer story of this series to both tell my story as well send a personal thanks to all volunteers from the Board? And I said of course! So first I would like to extend a heartfelt thanks to you all.

Chris, Andrew, and Bethany all recently sent you their stories of ASRI through which you most likely drew vivid images of birds, bikes, and botany in West Kalimantan. My story will not be as colorful, but my life has been altered with my progressive involvement in our organization, beginning with my six-week stint ASRI as a teaching physician in the fall of 2010.

My enchantment with global health goes back to a verbal marriage contract with my husband, Bob, many years ago – a contract that we WOULD share a “medical mission” before Bob started his full-time medical practice. I was a nurse then. Our summer in Haiti with our 2 small sons only whet my appetite… and resigned Bob to my future forays!

Entering the ASRI clinic. Photo by Kathleen White

I went through medical school and residency with a few “international health” experiences and then two “medical missions” while in Internal Medicine practice, and found myself a dissatisfied clinician. These trips to three continents were always interesting and rewarding. I always was able to take time to give high-quality patient-centered care, if not high-technology care, but I took back more than I left behind. Very short-term medical global healthcare has few long term effects other than those occasions when we might say the right words that may impact someone’s life. Also, we never know how negative an impact we may make with not truly understanding patients’ cultural concepts. But I then thought if I could take a medical-trainee along, at least that educational experience would have some sustainability.

The ASRI clinic in rainy season. Photo by Kathleen White.

Then I heard about Kinari Webb. Now, this is really emotional, but it is sincere when I use the following quote by Edith Wharton to describe my relationship with ASRI and Health In Harmony:
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
And I know you all share my gratitude that Kinari has lit this fire and we get to fuel it with her.

As a physician I firmly believe that in assisting our patients to achieve health it is necessary to address sustainable and productive lifestyles and livelihoods. As an “environmentalist” and a very enthusiastic grandmother I feel a deep responsibility to a sustainable world.

ASRI doctor and toddler. Photo by Kathleen White

I must mention that my passion for teaching medical trainees in a longitudinal setting with underserved patients has driven all my major career decisions. I am fortunate to be the site director for our local medical students going to ASRI, and I was able to share the experience with one of them at ASRI on my second trip to Sukadana.

I now have the opportunity to be working on a scholarly project in global health medical education as part of a one-year Medical Education Fellowship. My project is to establish an explicit curriculum for our medical students and residents going to ASRI. I hope this will enhance their experience in culturally sensitive patient-centered care, and even, my dream, to ignite their spark in replicating the model being put into practice at ASRI.

At first I didn’t think it was possible to enhance trainees’ experiences. But medical education has neglected Learning Theory until recently and I have found in my study thus far – and have been reassured by our former students who have assisted me – that there is always more they are capable of taking back from the riches at ASRI. The cultural sensitivity they gain is invaluable in caring for patients in the developed world, just as in the developing.

ASRI doctor and child patient… and panda puppet friend. Photo by Kathleen White.

With advances in technology, medical care in the developed world has become more fragmented and specialized; and EXPENSIVE. It is now a well-known fact that the most patient satisfaction is achieved when care is patient–centered. Medical schools worldwide are turning their attentions back to bedside care. This involves great skill in the patient’s history and physical exam, and competent patient-centered clinical reasoning. What is not well appreciated is that approximately 30% of costs for diagnostic tests are unnecessary or may even be physically or psychologically harmful. This can happen when the testing directs the diagnosis, instead of clinical reasoning directing the testing.

There are few technical tools at ASRI in providing patient care. But that is what makes it most valuable as a learning experience. And lab tests, few as they may be, are only employed when the results will change the plan of care. And the Indonesian doctors – who are extremely bright – benefit not from our western technologies, but from our sharing our clinical reasoning skills. The collegiality is delightful.

With the research I have done as I have been working on my medical education project and assisting trainees in global health, I have found no other project like ASRI. What Kinari has achieved, and what Health In Harmony is allowing ASRI to manifest, represents the first replicative model for exchange of healthcare and a commitment to preserve the environment. But in addition to the successful re-foresting and growing environmental awareness of local people, ASRI is also a venue for re-capturing the excitement of bedside medicine. Thank you for sharing this “conceit” of saving lives while saving the planet. It has tremendous benefits for us all.

You can support the cause by volunteering, or by giving to the volunteer program – you know as well as I do how important that support is to continuing to shine our light together!

Children in Sukadana. Photo by Kathleen White

Tanjung Putang National Park – On the Dolphin

Three days ago, leaving in the dark from Sukadana, there was a telltale shadow of trepidation about spending 3 nights on boats of unknown shape, size or origin with 18 women in humidity and heat between 92-96 degrees, destination: Tanjung Putang National Park.

We make the rough bumpy ride to Ketapang moving through the bustle of daily life: motorbikes with neat but bulging panniers, children in school uniforms bicycling to school, a man sweeping his front porch, shopkeepers opening stores. I am intrigued by the small sometimes drab, often colorful simple homes, many with little if any major furniture. Boarding Aviastar, we make the 40 minute and worlds away flight to Pangalaboon. I can’t quite name it but it feels a world different from where we came from. Asking Kari about it later, she reminds me that it’s been only relatively recently that Indonesia has been united and yet with few roads, the islands and distances are difficult to penetrate; places feel wildly different.

The Dolphin Kelotok

Shortly after arriving at the dock where preparations for a wedding are going on adjacent, we board and move slowly into the nescafe Kumay River soon to take a hard left into the Tanjung Putang National Park where we will end up at Camp Leaky sometime tomorrow. The gentle wind slips across our warm stickiness. There are smiles. One of the guides catches a glimpse of the telltale pendulum action of Nipa Palms and we come to a slow stop to catch a glimpse of a wild, male orangutan. On the bow of the boat, I glimpse his black cheeks and deep set eyes, his russet body and rounded shoulders. Seen or not, we’re all awe struck with what we only perhaps imagined.

Tanjung Harrapan

We motor for about 2 hours before rounding a bend to arrive at the first station: Tanjung Harrapan, or Peninsula of Hope as our guide Eddy translates. Several of the other cradle-like boats are already docked. Our main boat, the Dolphin leads our pack of 3 as each sidles up “just so” to the dock where we weave and walk away across bows and railings to arrive on the dock. After a brief stop at the Visitor Center where well-intentioned exhibits are fading in the incessant heat and humidity and peat swamp exhibits are long since dismantled, we head into the jungle for the feeding station.

Walking no more than 15 minutes, we are greeted by a young female orang tucked up in the crook of a tree. She stares down at us and I ascribe a curiosity to her I imagine she feels but don’t really know to be true. Perhaps all she is imagining is when the ranger will arrive with the sweet milk. And then we hear the crashing of branches that heralds the dominant male, Yani’s arrival. His box like body is draped with long russet hair and his black flap cheeks cup his even darker liquid black eyes. Everyone is entranced. Everyone is snapping pictures hoping for that one most amazing shot to share with people back home. Me too.

Yani

We arrive at the edge that requires silence as we await the orangs that are migrating their way through the rainforest to this feeding station. Emerging from the pendulum swinging trees keeping time to a pulse beyond time, one by one, some with babies clinging, they arrive and are there before and soon all around us. “Us” is a crowd of onlookers come to see from Germany, Norway, America and Indonesian’s of lineages as diverse, remarkable and mysterious as the complexity of this rainforest.

We leave Tanjung Harapan where we’ve met the alpha male of this station, Yani and a family of females, babies and adolescents. I’m left with a vision of long flaming hair sparkling in the swing and arc of the great apes as they move effortlessly from tree to snag to limb. Later, in a different place further up the Simpan Kanan River where Camp Leaky is located, I’ll watch two young orangutans use their weight to swing a snag back and forth, arching to catch a further tree: once, twice they try. The third time, the far tree is grasped and from the audible sounds one could imagine they were as pleased with themselves as was the assembled crowd below.

Proboscis Monkeys by Eddy

With no marker that we can discern, Eddy and Mywardi, our guides, have the Dolphin Captain, Iyan, nestle the boat into the ubiquitous nipa palms. The light is softening to dove blue; the greens seem luminous as the proboscis monkeys shimmer in the fading sun, tails hanging long like fat white ropes. Cradled in high leafy branch bouquets, the proboscis monkey clan is silently watched by one large darker male tucked up under the branches of a distant tree. Youngsters cavort from limb to limb like the Sugar Plum Cat while babes are cradled, groomed and patted. Adolescents from the size squabble over who will get the choicer hold. It is not so different, really, I think.

Suyati and assistant cook dinner

With the curtain of dark pulled over this peninsula of hope, fireflies twinkle in trees and stars shimmer through a light mist. Soft, delightfully lumpy colorful mattresses are quickly made up by the deck hands rendering what had been our sitting areas into bedrooms whose walls was dreamy guaze that seemed to breath with the nights shallow warm wind. Rocked to sleep on the top deck of the boat with the rain forest in full chorus, we all fall asleep early (8:30 p.m.) and fast.

Next Stop: Pondok Tanggwei and Camp Leaky

Ibu Raina, her family, friends and Hotlin with Goat

By 10 a.m., we are on our way to meet Ibu Setiawati who is now manager of the Goats for Widows program and has coordinated with Pak Miftah and countless community members to organize the goats that will be given away today. The only promises a widow must make is that she will build a raised goat pen and bring a sturdy rope on the given day.

Arriving the low cinder block/cement building, the yard is already astir with the activity of then men that have been handling the goats which are each neatly tied in a plastic burlap bag to ensure they remain quiet and less agitated. I wonder at some of the looks on the women’s faces but they quickly register their understanding and we file into the cooler darkened room for the formal presentations. One senses that this is a momentous event with nearly 50 people sardined into a room with one fan but more hope that all the motes in the world. Shortly, everyone is ushered back into the yard for an odd but inspiring choreography of releasing the goats into the selected widows care. Each has blindly chosen a number and will receive the goat of the same number; and, each of the 12 women from the Dining for Women delegation are paired off with one of the widows, many having sat next to each other before venturing into the yard for the moment of ownership. Many are holding hands, brown wrinkled hides in soft white paws, speak of a love beyond words: women holding out and holding the hands of other women that they may benefit. To enjoy the pictures that tell the true story of the day, go to www.diningforwomen.org, where I believe you’ll find their growing album from the trip. As we climb back on the bus to return to ASRI, there is a sense of grace amongst the twelve.

—

Me with a tree, circa 2009

How in the world can I express what that time meant? It has been almost four years since I arrived at Sukadana, and my memories of it are still treasured and vivid: I can still recall many heartbreaks and joys from my time there. When I look back, I particularly recall certain things that were said to me — words which, through the following years, would become symbols of my time in and around Gunung Palung. They are not direct quotations, of course (and my apologies to anyone who feels misrepresented!), — nevertheless I want to share some of them with you, because I hope they will recall your own memories of why you loved your time with ASRI.

“The more Bahasa Indonesia you speak, the more useful you can be” — Cam Webb.

I am an ecologist; I got involved with ASRI after meeting Cam during my Master’s degree. I kept saying that I would love to come and see the rainforest and he told me to volunteer, if I was really serious. So, I started studying Indonesian. I remember these words because they told me to prepare for a challenge — the enormous challenge of leaving your country to become an ethnic, religious and linguistic minority. I was young and had never left North America when I arrived in Pontianak and took a crowded boat down the Kapuas to Sukadana. In and around Gunung Palung I made many mistakes — and embarrassed myself more than once! — and learned many lessons that are still with me.

We talk a lot about the rewards of working with ASRI, but I think these come from facing a difficult challenge — and language is one such difficulty. Most of the volunteers I recall were North Americans who spoke little Bahasa Indonesia. As we reflect on our own volunteer experiences and inform potential future volunteers we should recognize those challenges and embrace them. They are part of the profound encounter we have all shared.

A seedling (photo by Kinari Webb).

“Sometimes I tell a young doctor who has helped to save a patient, count this as a life you have saved. Andrew, count these four hectares of rainforest.” — Kinari Webb.

Kinari said this as she surveyed our nearly-completed rainforest restoration plot from atop a burned out stump. I just realized that including those words puts a lot of emphasis on my contribution, which wasn’t my intention — those four hectares were also the creation of Doni Anggoro (rainforest restoration coordinator at the time) and Kari Malen (now volunteer coordinator) and many other volunteers and, of course, the local people who supported the project and did much of the clearing and planting! But in that moment I was aware of my own contribution to a project in which I believed completely, whose progress I saw daily. The joy I felt at that moment has, in the four years since, become part of me. I suspect this is intrinsic to the ASRI volunteer experience: we volunteers arrive in Sukadana, work as part of a team (perhaps harbouring some doubt as to the importance of our role?) and then, maybe just as we are leaving, we discover — or are told! — that we have indeed made a unique contribution to something wonderful, beautiful, powerful. This conviction and satisfaction — this joy — becomes something we carry with us.

I think back to those four hectares often. I wonder if the Belian germinated well, which species survived and which didn’t, whether the macaranga is now taller than me. The process of organizing and planting those four hectars was an profound experience for a young ecologist who had done lots of reading but spent very little time in actual rainforests. I hope to see them again someday.

“Experiences are like investments — they increase in value with time” — Ted Ulrich, A fellow volunteer.

I’ve been able to draw on my experience with ASRI in many ways. Working with ASRI staff and volunteers, I learned about rainforest ecology, ecological restoration, Indonesia, Islam. I learned to speak a new language, and learned so much about myself. I gained valuable experience with my first tropical rainforest. All those things have transferred to the rest of my life. I am writing to you now from a house in rural Brazil — ecologically and socially about as different from Sukadana as possible — but I believe that on some level my experiences at ASRI are valuable to me here, as they are in all parts of my life. My time at ASRI was a first taste of a way of life that I have come to treasure, and I count myself lucky to have an excellent seed from which to grow.

This has hardly been an exhaustive list of powerful words or interactions. Not just words, but also sounds and smells remind me of my time near Gunung Palung. Powerful things were said to me by local men and women as well, in English and in Indonesian, that I still treasure. But I do want to close by thinking about the power of words, the power of speech. We have an opportunity, as ASRI volunteers, to continue to speak about ASRI’s work, to share our stories from Gunung Palung. Social media is one excellent way of sharing our words about ASRI:

Facebook
Twitter

And last but not least, you can give to help support that volunteer program, that we know and love, by clicking here.

Thank you for reading – wishing you the best from Brazil,

Selamat jalan,

Andrew

Rising before dawn, we run, do our yoga, listen to the swish of brooms and the buzz of saws from the louver and door makers down the street. Roosters having been silent through most of the night begin their cacophony, the Imam calls believers to prayer and the motorbikes begin their buzzing like flies along Sukadana’s few main streets. Everything starts early here, before the sun pours down molten hot and life is forced to slow.

Our first, short week, at ASRI wraps up with morning meeting on Friday. Although clinic is officially closed on Fridays, there is always a training or special clinic offering slotted into this precious time. Today it is childhood immunizations and as the 20+ staff gather for meeting, mothers and their babies gather as well. Babies are passed around and adored while the 20+ staff: doctors, nurses, cooks, drivers, conservation and organic farm team members, dentists and volunteers, gather in a circle to discuss what days the clinic will be closed for Idel Friti, celebrating the end of Ramadan, and for Christmas.

Unlike our USA Personnel Manuals where holiday allowances are spelled out months, if not years, in advance, here those decisions are made differently. Although December 25th has and will most likely forever remain the day known as Christmas, because the Muslim calendar is based on a lunar cycle, holidays like Ramadan shift across time over the years. And so the decision, however archaic some may view the process, is made consensually. Until everyone is satisfied that their preference and the various options has been considered, the discussion goes on. It takes 20 minutes, maybe 30 minutes, but in the end a huge Bahasa “hurrah” goes up amid clapping and laughter. As a friend of mine might observe: this is “life on life’s terms” without the western sterilization and compartmentalization. But it is also more than that.

Differences are acknowledged, respected and dissolved in this place, in this heat and in the embrace of Health In Harmony’s mission as it is so beautifully and fully expressed at ASRI.

After morning meeting, several of us retreat to ASRI’s Bunk House, a hub of activity for Etty working on ASRI Kids, Pak Mifta leading the organic farm team and Julia, the Harvard Forestry Fellow who’s been here working with Cam and the conservation team since last July. Today they are talking about fire suppression trainings for two of the reforestation sites, looking forward to former-fire fighter, Loren’s return who will lead the trainings as he has done before. Kari explains that in reforestation areas the invasive alang alang (Imperata Cylindrica) grass is tinder for the casual lit cigarette and how the dreaded grass returns even more aggressively after a fire event curling its roots and edging into the rainforest which is not a fire adapted system thus choking out native grasses and, if left unchecked, compromising the resilience of the rain forest.

Meantime, I work at my desk feeling both privilege to be here, in this mix and a sense of urgency: how can I inspire our HIH family, the world really, to invest in what seems like magic at times but is simply human beings united and determined in a cause whose face is that of Idel Fritti, of Christmas, of majestic rain forests, bountiful organic gardens, prosperous widows and healthy children all wrapped in the steamy aura of a place that straddles the equator. Sukadana, West Kalimantan April 20,  Christmas, of majestic rain forests, bountiful organic gardens, prosperous widows and healthy children all wrapped in the steamy aura of a place that straddles the equator.

Immediately upon our arrival, the neighborhood kids congregate on the blue-tile front porch of the modest concrete brick home.  The house had been Kari and Loren’s who left six months ago to return to the states after having lived, worked and volunteered for ASRI for 3 years We’ve returned for 3 weeks to host a group of women from Dining for Women but know that there is so much more we are here for as well.

“I usually had some arts or crafts for them to do,” Kari said. With delight, I recall a box of 48 crayons in the bags we brought from Portland, Oregon where we began this journey on April 13th, arriving here on the 17th. I dive into the long duct tape-belted ski bag that holds crutches and and pull the brightly colored box from the jack straw aluminum poles. “Paper is scarce,” Kari says but a tablet is produced. Seven children ages 2 to 12 quietly, eagerly reach for the waxy jewels using one crayon at a time. There is no hoarding or guarding with a carefully cupped hand, a rainbow fan of crayons for one’s exclusive use. Maima, who when Kari left was only beginning to talk, now chortles her ABC’s in Bahasa and counts to 10 with Kari in English. Selecting a blue crayon, she draws small hieroglyphics along the top of the page. With the best inquiring face I can manage, I point to one of the figures assuming it is either her, a sister, maybe mother or father and I’ll perhaps learn one more precious gateway word of Bahasa. She says “orang”. I must have looked confused. I point again at the figure. She says “orang” again then points to the other two blue stick figure shapes and repeats: “orang, orang”.

Perhaps still hoping that I might find a common word, a bridge to one thing we both understand, I point to the shape of a heart Maima has drawn and ask hopefully, “heart?” Maima looks up at me briefly and then to an older girl, an Indonesian-child-version of Audrey Hepburn, who says in her prepubescence voice, “I love you.” My look of incredulity brought a repeated statement of love while Maima pointed to her blue hearts book ending her orang family. What is there not to love? And how could I be more delightfully reminded of why our work is so important.

This is our first afternoon in Sukadana having arrived via a low slung sloop of a speedboat from Pontianak with at least 60 other passengers and our luggage contraptions. The 5 hour tour through inland waterways was punctuated by a stop for lunch where we faced a precipitous climb up 60 degree wooden stairs to arrive at a mecca of riverside warangs. Rice scooped out of the communal rice cooker is followed by a help-yourself to a variety of dishes nearly none of which I recognize but all of which my mouth watered for. Stewed greens, fried chicken, tempe, fried eggs, hardboiled red eggs, salted fish, potato balls, fish balls, knuckles and bits of meat, whole giant shrimp with their eery antenna like legs akimbo. I relish the quick repast washed down with a warm coke. Returning to the boat the seats feel less hard as we lace the ochre waters, hugging nipa palms and mangroves arms, skirting flotsam and jetsam.

River settlements of 20-40 wooden stilt houses and small stores colorfully displaying their wares are accessible only by this wide water highway. Sukadana pulls into view, the sun-yellow Hotel Makota dominates the horizon. Chuddeering into port, sun pressing hotter, Kari and I make silly faces at the 3 year old boy in front of us who mimics us and chortles with delight. Words would get in the way. Disembarking, he takes my hand to shake it, I assume; we do and I take mine to my heart as I’ve observed is done. But I’ve not got it right. “No?” I finally understand they’re trying to tell me that he wants to take my hand to his forehead, a child’s gesture of respect. Feeling like a blessed klutz, I give him my hand reminded of how lucky I am to be here, now. Saying goodbye, we navigate a 4′ gap between boat rail and scaffolding and clamor up. Tides here are tricky matters. There is Hotlin and the ASRI ambulance to greet us!

An early evening storm wraps its shuddering arms around us. Rain curtains. Swirls of cool kiss hot skin. Hotlin had invited us for dinner. It seems a night in is called for. I glance up and see the pictures of a village, mountains and orangs that Kari and I have propped up in the front windows of the house.

And I think to myself “what a wonderful day it has been.”

by Bethany Kois – volunteer, runner, cyclist, and avid adventurer.

As a past student of biology, Indonesia has long held a special place in my heart, both for its abundant natural beauty and for its vast biological resources. Located in the equatorial region of the Pacific Ocean, Borneo is the third largest island in the world. Although its size is massive, at nearly 740,000 square kilometers, its human population is slight.

This is what I saw on my first boat ride into Sukadana:

Instead, Borneo houses one of the most diverse ecosystems on Earth. The forests of Borneo include: heath, mangrove, peat swamp, freshwater swamp, lowland dipterocarp, ironwood, and hill dipterocarp. Living within these forests are up to 15,000 different flowering plants, more than 3,000 species of trees, including 267 species of dipterocarps, 44 endemic mammals, including 13 different primates, 260 insect species, 30 species of freshwater fish, 7 frog species, 6 lizard species, 5 crab species, and 2 snake species.

Just one hundred years ago, 95% of Borneo’s land area was still covered in forest. Sadly, over the years, that percentage has rapidly decreased due to changes in forest management and governance, as well as the exploitation of timber throughout the island and the conversion of forestland into industrial or other uses. Thus, my heart soared this past fall when I was fortunate enough to volunteer with ASRI in Sukadana, Indonesia. I’d like to share my story with you with the hope that you’ll be motivated to do the same. It would be wonderful if we, as former volunteers, could create and maintain a support network to continue contributing to Health In Harmony’s and ASRI’s shared mission, from home.

I think my story, as most stories do, begins with my first impression of Sukadana. Those of you familiar with the boat passage from Pontianak to Sukadana will likely relate. After two long days of airline travel and one overnight stay in an air-conditioned Pontianak room, I hopped into a taxi and made my way to the speedboat dock. Yes, I was a bit jetlagged, but my enthusiasm was high! Having severely limited Indonesian language skills, I somehow managed to purchase a ticket for the river trip and took my seat on the boat. For the next five hours, I saw water, people, boats – the views are captured on the right.

First glimpses of Sukadana:

As we pulled into the Sukadana harbor, I was nervous, full of pent up energy, and ready to help with any project ASRI might throw at me. I was met at the dock and transported to the ASRI clinic. Upon my arrival at the clinic, ASRI staffers were hard at work and halfway through an important afternoon meeting. Luckily for me, I was shepherded off to the place that would be my home for the next two months. I fell right asleep. Undoubtedly, my excitement had masked my true level of exhaustion.

These smiling faces, and this dinner, greeted me:

Upon waking, I was met with lively greetings from my new housemates and offered a place at dinner with a larger group. Nothing beats waking up to smiles and food! (HUGE thanks Etty, Vera, Vina, Monica, Will, and Ronald. You are wonderful and are sorely missed!)

Over the next few weeks, I gradually acclimated myself to the new environment. I was provided with a bicycle for travel needs and was introduced to food, market, and fun around the village. Virtually every local personality I encountered greeted me with welcome smiles and open arms. I must say, having lived in both large and tiny towns throughout the years, I have yet to experience the warmth extended to me by those I met in Sukadana. And, what a pleasure it was to get around entirely by bicycle!

Speaking of bicycles and vibrant personalities, my later impressions of Sukadana had much to do with one individual in particular: Hotlin. My introduction to Hotlin occurred within the first week of my stay. If I recall correctly, she shared an amazing, but as yet unknown to me, food dish and offered to guide me around town via bicycle transport. Of course, being the adventurous type myself, I happily ate and cycled with her at every opportunity. Our friendship makes perfect sense, given our strong personalities and thirst for challenge and discovery. It wasn’t long after these initial expeditions that we began to plot a nutty journey. We decided to travel by bicycle to Milano, a semi-nearby village. I realized later that bicycle travel of such a distance was not a typical occurrence on the island. At 10am, Hotlin met me with an odd, but delicious, green-colored beverage made of sugar and rice. Given our bike ride would be a few hours, we enthusiastically gulped the carb-laden drink and got on our way. As we explored the beauty that is Borneo, we shared knowing glances and appreciative nods. Villagers that saw us marveled at our bravery for traveling so far using a method of transportation locally considered only for the lower classes. When we returned to Sukadana that evening, exhausted but proud of our accomplishment, we were already plotting a bigger bicycle challenge.

For our next feat, we planned a trip to the far away town of Ketapang. Knowing the ride would take an entire day, we planned a Saturday departure, overnight stay, and Sunday morning ride back. This time, we were really in for it: the ride would take about seven hours one way. When we talked of our plans with locals and ASRI staffers, they expressed incredulity. We received quizzical looks from all. In fact, once on the trail, nearly every person we passed inquired as to our genesis and destination. Each and every time, after our distance was revealed, villagers were dumbstruck. They simply could not believe that two women, who must have had the means to travel by car, would choose to travel so far by bike and would be so HAPPY about it! Well, we sure were. Happy about it, that is. Especially once we arrived in Ketapang, had a well-deserved dinner, and got a good rest. The next morning, we struggled through sore butt bicycle syndrome and pushed hard to finish our challenge. Riding into Sukadana after such a long and arduous trip was exhilarating! We both felt a huge sense of accomplishment. Here’s what we saw along the way:

I know, I know. You’re thinking, what next?! Well, yes, there’s more. Shortly after our Ketapang ride, Hotlin came to me with another inspired adventure: traveling to Pontianak, hoisting our bikes on the speedboat, then riding from Pontianak to the ferry crossing, overnighting on the ferry, and riding from the ferry drop off back to Sukadana. Riding for this trip would easily exceed the bicycle travel time we had already put in. Plus, we’d be riding after an uncomfortable night of passenger class ferry accommodation, i.e., sleeping on the floor. Could we do it? Was it safe? What were we thinking?! Whatever. We could do it and we did. This time, however, we took a few other girls along.

Our Pontianak adventure:

By now, you may be wondering why I am storytelling about my bicycle adventures with Hotlin and not about the volunteer work I did while living in Sukadana. Relevant question. I did do plenty of work. More importantly, though, I met a bevy of amazing people who forever changed my view of the world. Their impact on me and on our global community cannot be understated. They are inspirational. These individuals should be applauded and supported. Their story and the story of those who they help should be told around the world.

And so, this passage is dedicated wholeheartedly to one of those individuals: Hotlin. A woman filled to the brim with positivity, courage, spirit, and persistent capacity. Of course, Hotlin’s adventuring certainly didn’t stop after my Sukadana departure. In fact, I’d venture to say her strength and efforts have since increased! This summer, Hotlin is running the Borneo International Marathon to raise funds for a dental wing in the new ASRI community health center. She is a dynamo. As a runner myself, I could not be more supportive of this, her first, marathon. So, I’m writing to invite you to join me right now in promoting and supporting her charity run! Let’s get the word out to encourage friends, neighbors, and everyone we know to support Hotlin in her first marathon and help her meet her marathon fundraising goals!

As former volunteers yourselves, you know ASRI needs continued funding support. You’re already aware that environmental degradation in Borneo is severe and ongoing. You know that affordable community healthcare is a desperate necessity to villagers in Sukadana. Because you’ve been there, you’ve seen the need first hand and you recognize how much work still remains. HIH helps ASRI help Sukadana and the surrounding communities by offering medical treatment, educating on environmental and health issues, and, using alternative livelihood training, giving families a way to go from illegally logging precious rainforest trees to becoming independent agricultural entrepreneurs.

The work of ASRI happens largely because of volunteers like us. As volunteers in Sukadana, we contributed our skills and our knowledge. Our contribution was welcomed and appreciated by the warm community. If your Indonesian experience was anything like mine, you traveled home with a happy heart and a full belly. I now hope our volunteer community can contribute more than skills at a time when monetary support is critical for continuation of ASRI programming. I ask that each past volunteer commit to raising at least $100 for the upcoming Borneo International Marathon event. The funds raised will allow construction of the new hospital and, ultimately, will allow ASRI to make a broader impact in Borneo.

Please join Hotlin in making this happen! I know that many of you feel similarly inspired by the work of ASRI and will want to participate. You can do so by sharing the Borneo International Marathon fundraising effort through Facebook and Twitter. If you’re more of a party planner, consider organizing an event at your house to tell your family and friends about Hotlin, the cause, and how they can contribute. As marathon training ramps up, she’ll post pictures of her run adventures on the ASRI and HIH Facebook pages. If you’d like to contribute as a supporter or a charity runner in the event, GREAT! Just think how fantastic it would be to gather a group of past volunteers together, in Sukadana or otherwise, for a fun weekend!

The marathon is scheduled for May 4th, 2013. If you are interested in promoting, fundraising, or supporting, please let Rosevan Vickery (rosevan@healthinharmony.org), Health In Harmony’s Communications & Development person, know right away! It will be excellent to have past volunteers along on this next adventure. 

See you soon!
- Bethany

Sukadana Dock – Photo by D. Agashe.

After 5 years of life in Asia – 3 of which were spent at ASRI – being back stateside is strange.

No doubt, there is much to relish – rekindling spirits with family and friends, eating foods that don’t appear in Bornean village markets, driving a car anywhere at anytime of the day. But the most striking piece that I keep coming back to is the disconnect I feel here in anytown, America. I find myself wondering, where do we find community?

A former Health In Harmony volunteer nailed it. Upon reading Rhiya Trivedi’s blog, who spent a summer in Sukadana at project ASRI and is now on a year-long Watson Fellowship trying to better the world through a better understanding of it, a line in her message jumped out at me.

Photo by J. de Jarnette.

As we move forward to the future those who have are Trading Community for Comfort. After seeing and living amongst the haves and have-nots on various parts of the globe, our sense of community here in America saddens me. We would rather have privacy fences than neighbors, houses with extra rooms but rarely any guests, relationships through facebook posts and on-line dating instead of actual face-to face conversations. We have become attached to our stuff and our personal space, and it owns us. We may be comfortable but are we happy?

I miss greatly the people of small town Asia, particularly Sukadana, whose kids would play in my yard and neighbors would sit on my porch and give me gardening advice – even if I did not ask for it. We would trade meals and share ideas, even if they weren’t like-minded. And no-one got angry. Different ethnic groups resided amongst each other and beliefs were personal. When crisis struck, everyone pitched in, and when celebration was in order, the same.

The community meets. Photo courtesy of K. Webb.

It seems that here amongst the ‘haves’ we want only to converse with those who hold our beliefs or are in the same socio-economic class, fearing that which is different. We would rather have a castle than a community and it is apparent in the mental well-being issues we are facing. And I want to shout out, “Stop hoarding, start sharing. Plan for the good of all, not the benefit of a few. We will all be better off for it.” But I too need to digest that lesson.

We are a nation that sets the example. What example? The one that the rest of the world wants to be like. We need to take that responsibility seriously. If we can’t recycle, reduce our level of consumption, decrease greenhouse gases, treat others with respect, love thy neighbor…the list goes on and on…how can we expect other countries to?

Photo by L. Tobias.

This month Health In Harmony’s ASRI program celebrates Hari Hijau, which translates to ‘Green Day’, in a small village on the edge of Gunung Palung National Park. The celebration marks the efforts and pride of the local community members who have worked to help reforest and protect one of the last remaining parcels of lowland tropical rainforest in Borneo, which is home to some of the last remaining wild orangutan and gibbon populations in the world, as well as a whole host of other species. Many of these community members have given up logging income as they realize the importance of keeping forest viable for future generations and the world. They have given up logging income that would allow them to better their homes, buy a cell phone or even pay off a medical debt. They have done so because they see the benefit of keeping the forest for the community – the local one and the global one. We should look to them as the example. How can we mirror this message in our own communities?

Celebrate with us and the villages of Gunung Palung National Park. This month, I’d like to say – Happy hari hijau!

Me with a successful reforestation plot.