Gone Fishing

Here in Indonesia, fish is an integral part of the daily diet. In my host family, fish is eaten almost every day, or at least several times a week. Oftentimes, fish is fried whole-body, which typically results in fare I find less than appetizing, unfortunately.

However, I have now twice had the opportunity to eat the most delicious fish I’ve had in my life: fresh-caught grilled fish.

 

This picture doesn’t do it justice; it’s much tastier than it looks!

Since living in a new country is an opportunity for growth in a variety of different ways, I’ve taken it upon myself to (slowly) learn how to catch, clean, and cook fish myself. I admit that the catching part still bores me, but the cooking and eating part may just make the process worth it. In any case, I accompanied my host family to their fishing spot, expecting a pond out in the middle of nowhere, slick with mud and clouded with mosquitoes.

Instead, I arrived at a university campus, and was shown a very different sort of fishing.

This contained pool is a popular fishing spot for local men in Kota Sukabumi, who pay a fee to catch pretty much unlimited fish.

The rain turned out to not be an issue, since all of the fishing spots were covered by sturdy, shingled roofs to keep anglers dry.

Unfortunately, the reason fishing spots like this are typical in Indonesia is because overfishing and pollution have rendered many natural ponds and rivers devoid of life. The environmental damage humans cause through unchecked littering, harmful chemical emissions, and overpopulation is particularly easy to see in this country. This by no means indicates a moral failing on the part of the Indonesian people, but it does highlight the need for continued eco-friendly education throughout the world. Tropical archipelagos such as Indonesia are perhaps particularly susceptible to the harmful effects of climate change, and it seems likely that the wide variety of violent storms and natural disasters (alongside the steadily rising sea levels) will continue to plague the nation for many years to come.

Just out of frame of this photo is a gutter choked with so much plastic garbage that the water can barely flow..

Amusingly, after paying the fee, the pond was stocked right before our eyes, which consisted of a guy scooping a bunch of fish into a bucket and tossing them as close as possible to where everyone had cast their lines.

The fish were scooped from this writhing mass stuck inside a net at the corner of the pond.

The men chatted, smoked, and drank coffee while they fished, as is typical for Indonesian social events.

Before long, pretty much everyone was catching lots of fish. Some were tiny little things, which were kept for steaming (a process which renders the entirety of the fish, bones included, edible), while some were much larger, making them suitable for frying or grilling.

The tiny fish in his left hand would later be steamed and eaten whole.

Although catfish or “lele” are a common part of the Indonesian diet, fishers were not allowed to take them from this pond, having to instead throw them back.

However, to my dismay, I learned that my host family had brought only a single fishing rod, to be used by my host Bapak. So I became a fishing spectator rather than a fishing participant, which turned out to be even duller than it sounds.

As the day went on, however, I was able to borrow another fishing rod, and managed to participate in the catching of a pretty large fish with the assistance of my host cousin.

This red-hued fish was fried after being cleaned, but I didn’t eat it… Made for a fun photo op though.

After around five hours of fishing, we all eventually returned home. I ended up falling asleep and missing an opportunity to begin learning the cleaning process, but there’s still plenty of time for that. However, I did assist with the grilling process.

My host bapak and ibu fanning the coals upon which the fish were subsequently grilled

For grilling fish, the family fills a metal tin with charcoal and places it out in the partially-covered garage. The coals are lit, and then repeatedly and vigorously fanned until roaring hot. After this, the cleaned and halved fish (which has been flavored with lemon and salt) is placed in a grill basket and brushed with butter.

Right as it was placed on the coals, this fish filled the air with the smells of cooking butter, lemon, and fish

After about 15 minutes of continuous fanning, my arm was getting tired, but the meal at the end made it worth it

The view from just outside the university that holds the fishing spot

Thank you for reading! Sampai jumpa, everyone.

 

 

My New Home: Sukabumi

Hello, everyone!

It’s been a while since my last post, but that’s because I’ve been busy finishing up my Pre-Service Training, taking a 15 hour train ride, and then moving into my placement site in West Java. It’s been a wild, oftentimes difficult ride, but I am very thankful to be finished with training and to be starting work as an official PCV!

A blurry photo from my official swearing-in!

Monumental Occasion

As I near the end of my Pre-Service Training (PST) period, I find my free time to be increasingly rare and therefore increasingly precious. Last weekend, a good portion of my time was used engaging in events with my host family, which while not precisely the relaxing brain-break I had been craving, was a fascinating and enjoyable experience.

Welcome to my Village

For the past month and a half, I have been living in a small village on the outskirts of a medium-sized city in East Java. Although classified as a village, Indonesia’s population density means that houses and other buildings are as densely packed here as might be expected in a larger city back in the United States.

Watch your Language

Selamat!

During Pre-Service Training (PST), much of our time is taken up by learning the local language of the country in which we serve. For me, this means Bahasa Indonesian, a national language spoken by just about all of the various islands of peoples of Indonesia. Thankfully, it uses the Latin alphabet and incorporates many aspects of English, Spanish, and other Western languages, which makes it much easier to learn. It turns out my Spanish Minor is useful here after all!

Village Idiot

Recently, a fellow volunteer commented that he feels like “the village idiot,” a comment which perfectly encapsulates the enforced humility of being a Peace Corps volunteer in-training.

Reframing

After over 19 hours of flying without any sleep to speak of, followed by a 45 minute bus ride, I wasn’t feeling my best. To be fair, none of us were; all the D12 volunteers were tired, fatigued, exhausted, worn-out, and just about every other term you could think of that expresses “I want to go to bed RIGHT NOW.”