First Day Fears by Samantha Clements

 

Our first day of instruction in Ubud started with my worst fear – a trip to Monkey Forest. I have a very real, and very reasonable, fear of monkeys. I really did not want to come face to face with my fears. But alas, Professor Buske had scheduled a tour with the monkeys, and Buske gets what Buske wants. 

As soon as we walked in, I had the other students make a bubble around me, so that monkeys could reach out and touch them, but I was insulated. If I had to confront my fear, I’d do it as minimally as possible with my eyes to the ground and holding someone’s hand. I had no interest in being brave. I came to Bali to learn about children’s rights, not monkeys. 

We walked all through monkey forest, seeing families huddled together, young monkeys rough housing, and older monkeys feeding their young. The more I saw, the more comfortable I became. Not enough to look them in the eye or walk right up to them, but enough to not be in a total bubble. I could walk on my own and walk past the monkeys. I didn’t need to hold someone’s hand anymore. 

As we were walking to the exit, a baby monkey walked right up to me. I felt okay. I stood still, as instructed, and let it play with my skirt. It was little, cute, and curious about me. I would be okay with a baby monkey near me. That was until its mama jumped onto my shoulders. Yes, ONTO MY SHOULDERS. To say I was terrified was an understatement, I was petrified. A monkey was literally on my back. The mama monkey was protecting her young. By jumping on my back, she reminded me that this was her home and that was her baby. I held my breath and let her sit, and then she jumped away. 

I lived. My worst fear happened and I lived. 

After Monkey Forest, we headed to Sari Hati. An Indonesian school for children with physical and developmental disabilities. Sari Hati is an NGO that gets its funding from private donations. They have 78 students between the ages of six and fifty five, and have a waitlist of another thirty-five students. Through small classes, dance, and art, Sari Hati teaches their students how to eat on their own and to communicate their needs. They also educate the community about developmental disabilities. According to the program leader, many people in Bali believe that developmental disabilities come from black magic, a punishment from God, or that the disability is a transferable disease. 

At Sari Hati, those misconceptions are gone. The volunteers see these children through a lens of unconditional love. They seek to help all of their students lead normal lives and become fully functioning members of society. As one of the volunteers, Thony, explained, “education is to liberate human beings.” At Sari Hati, the students become integrated into their communities. The shame many families feel about their children is removed. Community engagement helps these students to flourish, to find themselves, to grow.  

We had the opportunity to interact with the students and join their dance and meditation class. These students were vibrant with joy, dancing and smiling the whole time.  One of them latched on to one of my colleague’s, Natalia’s, hands and did not let go. They were seen and celebrated, and what a wonderful experience to be a part of.  

Through both Monkey Forest and dancing with the students at Sari Hati, Thony’s words rang true. This educational experience was liberating. Through this class, I was able to face my fears and celebrate those around me.