Now that the walk between my house and my school has become more familiar, I’m beginning to notice more things every day. Yesterday’s new sighting got me thinking a lot, especially amidst recent developments regarding Palestine’s bid for statehood at the UN.
As I was making the turn onto my street, the corner Ojek (motorbike taxis) drivers shouted from across the street, as they always do: “Ojek! Ojek! Di mana? (Where to?)”
“Tidak, makasih. Saya jalan (No, thanks. I’m walking),” I smiled and declined, but this time doing a double take, as I catch a glimpse of an Israeli flag mural on the wall behind them. My look of distraction prompted one of the men to hop on his bike and drive over. As his engine roared, I quickly snapped back into it: “Tidak! Tidak! Makasih! (No! No! Thanks!)” I continued walking.
The mural had surprised me on several levels. For one, since moving to Kupang, I have yet to really encounter much street art, except for the occasional tags on walls and buildings that don’t really mean anything to me. In my consciousness, this mural held some significance, so much so that I returned to it today with my camera.
Revisiting the corner, I realized that I had overlooked something. Three purple crosses stood next to the mural. A sense of excitement came over me as I thought to myself, “Whoa, this is super interesting. I can blog about this.” But as soon as I pulled out the camera and felt the heat of the men’s eyes pinned on me, I regretted this whole thing. I felt like a gawky intruder making a spectacle of their space—all for a silly story. Noticing that I had taken a few pictures of the crosses and the mural, one guy walked to sit in front of it. I decided to put my camera away out of respect and gave him a nervous smile. He came over and asked me a question in Indonesian, while pointing to the mural.
“Maaf, saya tidak menggerti (Sorry, I don’t understand),” I replied.
“You speak English?”
“Ya.”
“Where are you going?”
“Rumah. Saya jalan-jalan (Home. I’m taking a walk.).”
“What’s your name?” He’s not impressed with my Indonesian.
“Jessica.”
He uttered his name, which I didn’t catch, and extended his hand: “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Sampai jumpa (See you later),” I walked away feeling like a total shithead.
But even now, I still can’t help but wonder about the political significance of this mural on a small street corner in Kupang. Sure, I can make some connections through educated generalizations. Kupang is one of the most economically depressed, geographically isolated, and politically neglected cities in Indonesia. It is also a small Christian city in the biggest Muslim country in the world. Meanwhile, Indonesia does not have any diplomatic relations with Israel. It doesn’t even recognize Israel as a state. But it still doesn’t all quite come together for me. The missing pieces only remind me that I have so much to learn, and I have to do so by interrogating my curiosity, entitlement and actions.
And as I congratulate and cross my fingers for the Palestinian people on their UN statehood bid today, I think of Ismail Haniyeh’s words:
Our Palestinian people do not beg for a state … States are not built upon UN resolutions. States liberate their land and establish their entities.
It seems like he too recognizes that there is much work to be done. I’m with you.
