“Why do you want to take education in the country that colonized you?”*

Even worse—if you want to say, “Why do you want to take a scholarship from a government that has been colonizing you for three and half centuries?” 

It was not once or twice that I got questioned with these questions, since  knowing that I would spend—at least—16 months in The Hague. I have never been sure how to answer those questions. And I haven’t answered the questions yet. The thing that I know is that: studying abroad has been a dream since seven years ago. They have told me, “go far away for a while”; “see the world from different perspectives”; “you will get more ‘truth’ than you have imagined”; “learn from as many people as you can”; “be away from everything and get lost to find your own way.” It is easy to find these quotes in go-travel-and-be-hippy discussions lately. The quality of life through such travelling is commercialized. People tend to crave the meaning of life easily and buy the discourse. I should admit that I was one of those to buy it, maybe I still am—with all the denials and consciousness.

I have never thought that Netherlands would be my destination, after getting 8 or 9 rejection letters or calls from different places: Australia, Hong Kong, United States… I had decided that 2014 would be the last year to give myself the last chance to fulfill my dream. And, as usual, you can get what you want in the last breath before giving up. Why Holland? Actually, it is because of ISS which is well-known in activists’ area. (No, I do not plan to be an expert activist.) As a mediocre in politics at that time, I was told that ISS presents different perspective on development. Since working for an NGO in Jakarta, I would say to myself understanding development in better sense would be helpful. But, what is development?

Here, I realized that my previous definition of development was defined by others. Even worse, I admitted—not in a proud way, I used to define the development for others as well. But, even after more than 8 months, I am still not sure how to define it. I just know that people have the right to define development by and for themselves. In that sense, the knowledge that I gained in the Netherlands has changed my perspectives about what I’ve done in Indonesia in the name of development.

The fact that Netherlands and Indonesia have a long history is nothing to deny. By knowing that there are a lot of Indonesian historical documents in the Netherlands, and by digging the journals, I acknowledge that many studies about Indonesia are voiced by the North.Indonesianists, they said. The experts are not “us”, but “them”, even though it is our culture, it becomes their knowledge. What comes to mind is that there is a limitation to document our knowledge. Since it is considered as everyday praxis, it is assumed as something familiar and no need to document these knowledges back in Indonesia. Even so, there is also a limitation to access the existing documents. Some of the published journals from Indonesia are not accessible for international consumption because they are not in English or not fulfill the “Northern” standards to be published in the international journals. The measurements of the standards are not defined by “us”, even it is about our local knowledge. Therefore, “our knowledge” is only shared among us.

For me, being here in the Netherlands is not about proving something to the world. Saying it as a proof seems like to reconfirm the standardization from the dominant culture of academics. I think it is a matter of voicing the local knowledges. Even I know exactly that it is not easy to distance myself from the ‘Northern’, consciousness about the Northernization and the knowledge of the (mostly) absent voice, for instance women’s experiences and South’s experiences, is another step to produce situated knowledge. It can be a way to enrich the knowledge. Interestingly, the first three months I was in The Hague, I learned a lot about Indonesian culture, instead of others’. It was the phase when I tried to define my identity; how “us” is defined by “others” and how I differentiate “me” from “us”. Thus, my experiences in the Netherlands is not only about the knowledge of the North and the knowledge of the South, but also how I understand the difference among my culture.

I do not want to get trapped in the dichotomy of North and South.

I should say that I have been learning a lot, such as how Indonesia is acknowledged in the Netherlands. For instance in Leiden, they have some of Indonesian poems in the public space. The Hague has some names of the streets that relate to Indonesia, such as Javastraat and Borneostraat that comes up from the names of Indonesian islands. Moreover, The Hague just established “Munirpad”; a name for bicycle way—not street—that came from Indonesian human rights activist, Munir. It shows that when you can identify yourself in a city, you can relate yourself and somehow you feel accepted in that city. Somehow, it does not feel “that strange”. There is a complex relationship between me and the Netherlands. I am questioned about it but at the same time, I feel connected as well. The relationship between Netherlands and Indonesia is for sure not an ahistorical one.

At least, from what I have been learning, I can critically see the position and my own identity. Here are some examples. I prefer not to make the same mistake when I am going back later. Coming to rural areas and having a thought that talking to elites means it represents the society. No. I also do not want to think that every woman has the same oppression. No. I learn not to generalize and simplify everything. The knowledge that I have gained in the Netherlands has made me realized that I should appreciate the local knowledge more.

I am sure when I am back in Indonesia, the questions won’t stop, I even already can imagine the stereotype embedded in me. “You are too Westernized”—I assume they won’t say Southernized—or “It’s strengthened the dependency to the South“or something similar like that. But, living more than 30 years as a woman and comes from the South has trained me how to cope with stereotypes. I prefer to have a discussion without any judgemental look or assumptions, without intention to be quiet about everything for sure. When we don’t say anything, it does not mean that we agree as well. As long as the consciousness about position and identity is still there, I would say I am comfortable with myself. It’s like “Southern comfort”.

So, the answer would be “Why not?”

*It was written for ISS blog and published here: http://isseditorial2015.org/2015/05/24/why-do-you-want-to-take-education-in-the-country-that-colonized-you/