A BETTER ME

Last updated on: September 28, 2016 at 11:28 am by Muqtedar Khan

A BETTER ME 2016-09-28T11:28:30-05:00 Muqtedar Khan

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By Pola Mora

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It was Saturday, August 20th. When I woke up, I knew that the routine I had adjusted to over the past five weeks would quickly fade. I would no longer hear the sounds of men’s voices reaching the highest pitch they could at 4:30 AM. I would no longer make a morning stop for the chicken wings that I had grown accustomed to eating for breakfast. I would no longer need to bend my body for those I passed on the street. And as I stepped off my flight into JFK, I realized the polite smile that I constantly held would no longer guarantee peace.

I went to Indonesia unsure of what to expect. I really had no idea. I had never met an Indonesian person prior to July 17th, and – I am embarrassed to say this – I was under the impression that I would have the opportunity to practice using chop sticks. I did not know how the trip was going to affect me, or what my mindset would be while I was there. After I returned, and as I walked through the heat of the New York City streets, a new perspective came over me. New habits that I formed in Yogyakarta (or Jogja) remained. For me this was strange – I have been blessed with the opportunity to travel all over the world and experience handfuls of different cultures. Yet the customs that I had learned in these places never stayed with me. As I reflect on my journey to Indonesia with America’s Unofficial Ambassadors, I realize these gestures have been infused into me due to the length of my stay in Jogja.

Bowing. This had become second nature by the end of my third week in Jogja. Bowing made everything easy. It made me feel at home, which in turn made me feel safe. A simple bow made me feel as though I had the respect of everyone I passed. I find myself now bowing when someone finds my bright blue mascara in the aisles of a Walgreens. I realize that normally Americans don’t notice this strange gesture. The question I then ask myself is, what if they did? What if they noticed that I was subtlety thanking them and showing them my respect? Being home, I have come to the conclusion that bowing is more of a thank you than just muttering those two words. The gesture of bowing is putting yourself lower than the person you are thanking. In its most minimal form, it is a sign of humility.

Smiling. I am someone who likes to smile. I typically describe myself as friendly and outgoing, and a smile is essential to displaying these attributes. At home on the Upper West Side everyone minds their own business, and one’s emotions can typically be read by their facial expression and body gestures. Someone who is having a bad day is unlikely to hold the subway doors for you as they watch you sprint down the stairs into the scorching heat of NYC’s underground world. Flashing a smile in New York City means nothing, except maybe to the little girl sucking on her lollipop across from you on the subway.

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The light that is beamed on the Muslim World by the American media is shined in the wrong direction. The media sheds light on a region and group of people who have been negatively affected by the detrimental acts of the United States. They portray Islam as a religion of violence. After living and engaging in Indonesia for over a month I can say this stereotype is untrue. With or without the gestures and customs that I picked up in Indonesia, its people were always beyond welcoming. Never afraid to ask questions, always willing to teach and share their experiences.

Gaining cross-cultural experience is an essential step in becoming a more knowledgeable person. Text books, television and newspapers do not open a person to the truth behind a culture, a group of people, or a religion. It takes actual engagement in society to understand. The way we can become better people is by better understanding one another.

Pola Amora is an undergraduate student at the University of Delaware and she spent part of the summer in Indonesia as an Unofficial Ambassador of America. These are her reflections on her experience.

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