Not much is happening around here on Thanksgiving. We didn’t get the day off of school, but we do have Black Friday off, so celebrations with friends will take place then. My white friend, Melanie, and I are cooking a whole Thanksgiving dinner (complete with two turkeys!) for about 15 Indonesian friends that we love very, very much. I’m excited for the day! Since I’m cooking both turkeys tomorrow, I’m trying to get other things out of the way tonight, so crescent rolls (made from scratch, thank you very much) are in the oven now.
Rainy season is truly in full swing starting this week. It has poured down rain every single day, and it’s been starting earlier and earlier every day. Today it was raining by lunch time. The cold and the damp have made things feel really fall-ish though, so for possibly this week only, rainy season is not entirely unwelcome.
Since I really have nothing exciting to report today, I’m going to post instead about what I did two weekends ago. Remember how I went and planted rice at Pak Kur’s house approximately 3 months ago? Well, at 91 days, Pak Kur declared the rice ready to harvest, so three of the four same ladies who planted the paddy went and harvested it! One moved back to Germany temporarily and due to that, we ever so kindly excused her from her harvesting duties.
Dunja, Melanie, and I in a nice self portrait after we were dirty, sweat, and sunburnt in front of the petak (section of a rice field) we planted all by ourselves! The baby rice that we used to plant the big petak is growing right behind us.
The bule (white person) petak! All the neighbors knew that bule had planted this petak, so they joked with Pak Kur that the rice would grow more quickly and the harvest would be more plentiful and that if that really did happen, they were going to start having us plant their rice too! Also, we came back the next day with one other friend to plant that empty part on the right.
Here is the bule petak after 64 days, I think it was. So about two-thirds of the way grown. The rice is starting to get heads on it – a lot like wheat! This is the time when Pak Kur started spending a LOT of time out there making sure the birds, bugs, and rats didn’t eat all the rice!
Aaaaaand here we have our full grown rice – precisely 91 days old – along with the majestic farmer himself, Pak Kur! (The following five pictures are courtesy of Kathryn, who helped plant the second day and came to harvest with us.)
Whenever we work in the fields, Pak Kur’s wife, Ibu Indah, brings us lunch, and we eat it beneath the chocolate tree (as I affectionately call it – it’s actually a cocoa tree or a cacao tree or something like that).
Pak Kur’s aging mother grew up working in the rice fields. Nowadays, they generally don’t let her come out for fear she’ll fall and hurt herself. But the day we harvested, there she was, walking around making crazy bird noises to keep all the animals away while we cut the rice. I kept a close eye on her while we worked, and she fell into one paddy once, but out of fear of shaming her, I merely watched from a distance to make sure she could pull herself back out. It took her roughly 2340793457 hours, but she slowly but surely got back up on her feet, no worse for the wear. I love this picture Kathryn got of her looking out over the lower paddies.
And here are some more pictures that I pulled off my camera.
Our petak completely harvested! We left the front bit because that’s where all the baby rice was growing when we planted, and so it ended up being planted later than the rest. It needed three more days, Pak Kur said. Rice harvesting is a VERY precise event.
We did the easy part of the work. We used sickle type knives to hand cut and stack all the rice. Later, the men of the family went out to thrash the rice on pieces of wood to get all the grains of rice off. THAT is hard work.
While we were eating our lunch beneath the chocolate tree, I could have sworn I heard the sound of horses walking nearby. I turned around, and instead of horses, I saw a neighbor herding his two buffalo along! Indonesian tractors!
Standing on one of the mud walls that separate one petak from another. Look how dirty my feet are! (PS – That rice is about three weeks old. It’s not Pak Kur’s.)
One time I noticed a bare light bulb hung on a piece of bamboo out in someone’s rice field, and I asked Pak Kur about it. He said that most rice farmers in that village run electric lines through the water in their paddies to keep the rodents out at night. He comes out in the morning and fishes up to 50 dead rats out of the edge of his various petak. He told me that if the light bulb is on, you shouldn’t go in that particular petak because it means the wire is live. They only turn the electricity on at night though, so in the daytime, it’s safe. I asked him what would happen if someone’s kid wandered out into the fields at night and got into the sawah (the Indonesian word for a rice paddy. I’ve felt awkward calling it a paddy throughout this entire post because I’m so used to calling it a sawah!). Matter-of-factly, he told me, “The kid would die”. I asked him how much electricity they have running through the wires, and he said, “Oh, more than enough to kill a buffalo”. Call me crazy, but that seems a bit overkill for keeping rats away…
So the moral of this post is: If you see a rice field with a light bulb shining in the middle of it, DON’T GO IN IT. I may have just saved your life.
