Three Americans, a Satellite Dish, and a Funeral
Central Sulawesi, Indonesia—When national or international events happen that shake us to the core, we often engage in conversation around the question—where were you when…JFK was assassinated? The Challenger blew up? On 9/11? During the Boston Marathon bombing? Sharing our stories and experiences with these tragic events has always been a way to connect with others, process our grief, and feel the weight of our common humanity.
One such event of international impact was the tragic death of Princess Diana. At the time of her death, I was working in Jakarta, Indonesia on my first stint after getting a Masters Degree in International Development—a six-month internship with the Biodiversity Conservation Network (BCN). BCN was a USAID-funded consortium of the World Wildlife Fund, The Nature Conservancy, and the World Resources Institute. I was thrilled for the opportunity to work in my field of interest, in a country that had become one of my favorite places on earth after several previous visits that began in my early teens.
At BCN, I worked with one person who was overseeing six international development grants—a program manager originally from California by the name of Bernd. Helping Bernd included reviewing project reports for the qualitative and quantitative information needed to assess the success of the six projects funded by BCN. The goal of the projects was to conserve the biodiversity of Indonesia's rainforests by creating microenterprises such as ecolodges or butterfly farms from which local villagers could derive income, instead of clear cutting the rainforests to make a living. The microenterprises were developed in such a way that required an intact ecosystem to remain viable, therefore incentivizing the locals to protect and conserve the natural resources for time eternal.
In August, the third month of my internship, after a review of documents, Bernd and I, together with Nick, a staff person from the stateside office, went to visit one of the project sites to gather the information we lacked for our assessment. Our destination was Palu in Central Sulawesi, one of the major islands in the Indonesian archipelago, located northeast of Java.
As we stepped off the plane, the hot and dry air of Palu’s arid climate hit me like the wave of heat that blasts your face when you open the door to a hot oven. As we traveled out of the modest airport, there was little to no sign of westernization. Palu was notably small and quaint—a nice change from the bustling and rapidly commercializing Indonesian capital city of Jakarta.
In Palu, we met with our consortium member, The Nature Conservancy, whose BCN-funded projects in Central Sulawesi included butterfly farming, beekeeping, honey hunting, and white water rafting in Lore Lindu National Park. Part of our time was spent having informal meetings. Then for one day and night we went to the villages in and around the national park.
Our first stop was the tiny village of Wausa where we stayed in a guesthouse for two USD per night. When I say tiny village, I mean half a kilometer long, tiny. Its only road dotted with homes, a few shops, one bar, one eating establishment, and one church. Nestled in the valley surrounded by the mountains, Wausa was nice and cool by the time we had arrived early evening.
Bernd, Nick, and I wandered along this one road village while it was still light out. We were quickly met by a large group of kids, rather excited to play frisbee with two tall guys from America. I stood by, taking pictures but soon got distracted by a group of people gathered at the doorway of someone’s home not far from where we were. I walked on over to see what was up and peaked through the shoulders of a couple of people.
They were watching Princess Diana’s funeral! I had spent the weeks prior to our trip, glued to the news coverage of what had happened to Princess Diana and her companion, Dodi Fayed. Like the rest of the world, I felt the emotional weight of her death. I really wanted to be witness to her funeral. But this was my first trip to the field during my internship and in my excitement, I forgot all about it. Moreover, I wasn’t thinking I’d even come across a television in such a tiny town that was practically off the grid.
Yet throughout my travels, I had found that despite the modest means of people living in the villages and rural towns of developing countries like Indonesia, there’s always a satellite dish and television in several homes. Wausa was no different. Locals could watch the screen every night until the electricity went off at midnight in this tiny Indonesian hamlet.
I waved at Bernd and Nick to come on over.
Noticing our curiosity, we were welcomed inside the home to watch this historic event with everyone over a few simple snacks and soft drinks. In Bahasa Indonesian, Bernd asked one of the guys why he wanted to watch Princess Diana’s funeral.
Because she had more friends amongst the common people, and I had to be there for her as she had been there for the common people.
Gulp. My already watery eyes suddenly got more watery. His reply was not unlike that echoed around the world in response to Princess Diana’s tragic death. Proof of her worldwide impact, even in the most unsuspecting places like a remote village in Indonesia where the electricity shuts down at midnight every night. How had they come to know so well of her?
We watched for a bit longer but left before the end of the funeral. “Terima kasih” (thank you), we said, as we departed and returned to our guesthouse for a decent night’s sleep.
Much time has passed since. And though I’ve never been asked “Where were you when Princess Diana died?”, I think fondly and with great wonder of our experience sharing such a momentous event with the people of Wausa, a remote Indonesian mountain village located thousands of miles from where the funeral of one of the most internationally iconic women of our time was telecast—Great Britain.
Though Diana’s worldwide impact was commonly known, seeing it firsthand in the eyes of the people of Wausa, Indonesia, a place so far from my own reality was deeply moving, and underscored so profoundly and so beautifully, the notion of our common humanity.
