Siskel: A life's journey from scholar to philanthropist

Siskel: A life's journey from scholar to philanthropist

Chisato Hara, The Jakarta Post/Jakarta

After almost 30 years in Indonesia, Ford Foundation Indonesia
representative Suzanne E. Siskel is leaving to take up her new
post as Director of Community and Resource Development at the
foundation's headquarters in New York. The Jakarta Post spoke to
her about some of the defining moments of her time here and the
experiences she will take with her.

The beginning of Suzanne Siskel's journey to Indonesia takes
place in the most unlikely of places, in the Mayan highlands of
Chiapas, Mexico, deep in the heart of Zapatista rebel country.

It was 1973, and Siskel was on an extended summer program as
part of her anthropology major at Harvard University. Siskel had
chosen to major in anthropology because she wanted "to do
research in a completely different world", but did not yet know
what kind of anthropology in which she might work.

In Chiapas, she conducted field work on shamanism and
indigenous healing for her undergraduate thesis. She lived with
the shaman, a woman of the same age as her, in a ramshackle hut.

The highland Mayan, in accordance with their indigenous
beliefs, said each person had an animal soul, although all were
church-going Catholics.

On her very last day, the shaman took Siskel to see the church
-- which was forbidden to "outsiders" -- in disguise, with the
two women donning a scarf over their heads and a head-bag, which
was the customary dress in the area. The two snuck into the
church after waiting for it to empty of worshipers, and inside,
the shaman showed Siskel around the many statues of saints that
stood in alcoves.

"She went to each one and lifted up their skirts, and
underneath was an animal figure, representing the soul of the
saint... So while the local Mayan were all Catholics, they were
practicing both religions. It was my first exposure to
syncretism, and I knew then I was going to be an anthropologist."

When she graduated in 1973, her Harvard professor encouraged
Siskel to apply to a new scholarship that had just been announced
by the Henry Luce Foundation, and which was managed by the Asia
Foundation. The scholarship was a new initiative that sought to
cultivate an appreciation of Asia, which was still rather unknown
in those days.

"(TIME magazine founder) Henry Luce was raised in China, which
obviously had a great impact on his world outlook. The idea was
to select 15 students ... from college graduates to graduate
students. It was an opportunity to send American people -- non-
Asia specialists -- who had the potential to contribute to the
area... Basically, we (first-year scholarship students) were
guinea pigs," she laughed.

Meanwhile, several people in the Harvard anthropology
department urged her to apply for a scholarship to Indonesia.

"I had read some (Clifford) Geertz, but didn't really know
anything about Indonesian then. But I had decided that I wanted
to come to Indonesia."

Fortunately, noted Indonesianist James Fox, the Australian
National University anthropologist, was at Harvard at the time.
Siskel consulted him, and Fox recommended that she spend her
preparatory summer with an Indonesian friend of his.

The "friend" turned out to be sociologist and intellectual
Arief Budiman, who was in the U.S. as an exile for his critical
views of Soeharto's autocratic government.

"(Arief) gave me a list of his friends to look up once I was
in Indonesia," she smiled at the recollection. "You wouldn't
believe the reactions I got when I showed someone here the list.
They said, 'Where did you get this list?' Of course, I didn't
know it at the time, but it was a list of all these people who
had been exiled or were about to be banned."

Siskel first set foot on Indonesian soil in October 1974 as a
Henry Luce scholar with Airlangga University in Surabaya. There,
she worked for a year with medical and dental students in the
field to evaluate the social impacts of public healthcare
services on a community.

Two events occurred during that year that bound Siskel to
Indonesia.

"A friend invited me to spend Christmas at the family's
plantation -- they thought I might be homesick. I even remember
the name, Kali Klatak plantation in East Java. They were a Muslim
family, but they celebrated Christmas, and they had put up this
Christmas tree and held a huge feast for the community -- turkey,
duck, chicken, I forget now...

"It was the first time I saw rubber tapping and processing,
and a whole variety of spices, including vanilla. I'd never seen
vanilla growing before then."

"And they had real candles on the tree you could light. I just
couldn't get over those candles. It was one of the moments I fell
in love with Indonesia.

"Everyone was so nice to me. I was young and (in Indonesia) by
myself, and people took me in."

The second event began as a simple road trip with five
Airlangga friends, one of whom was from Blitar: "His name was
Djoko, and he wanted to show me his father's kris collection and
the Singosari temples."

But the real reason for the trip turned out to be very
different. The group was on their way to the temples when they
decided to stop by the cemetery and visit the grave of Djoko's
mother, who had passed away recently.

"The cemetery was on some small side-street... Everyone had
flower petals to place on the grave."

Unfamiliar with the custom, Siskel followed suit and placed
petals along with her friends at Djoko's mother's grave -- but
noticed they kept a few petals in their hands. She did likewise,
and on the way out of the cemetery, they stopped at a small plot.

"There was no headstone, no markers. There was just this
slightly elevated mound and a closed payung (a traditional
Javanese umbrella) that is a sign of respect for the deceased."

Her friends placed their remaining petals on the corner of
this small plot, as did Siskel, and they left.

"We got in the car and rolled up the windows on the drive back
to town. I just assumed it was an aspect of grief," she said.

"When we got back to Blitar, we all got out of the car and
they asked me, 'Do you know where you were?' I said, 'Sure. We
went to Djoko's mother's grave'."

They shook their heads and told her that the unmarked grave at
the cemetery was the resting place of founding father Sukarno.

"You have to remember that it was 1974. Sukarno's name had
been all but expunged from public memory. It was taboo even to
mention his name... Going to his grave was an awakening for me as
a young person... a revelatory moment. I felt I'd experienced the
history of Indonesia, and felt a special bond with the country."

At the time, she was living with the family of a former chief
of the Surabaya traffic police, who felt close to Sukarno. Siskel
told the Bapak and his wife of her Blitar visit when she returned
to Surabaya, and they hugged and kissed her.

"I was really touched that my friends wanted me to understand
and know about their country, that they trusted me enough... I
was honored, privileged, humbled. My friends made sure that I
experienced all aspects of the country."

Several years later, she returned to Blitar, but the cemetery
was unrecognizable. It had become a tourist destination, and a
monument now marked Sukarno's grave. In the mid 1990s, she
attended an Asia Foundation reception, where she found herself in
the same room as Megawati Soekarnoputri.

"Megawati was then emerging as a critical and credible
opposition figure in the PDI (Indonesian Democratic Party), and
being in her presence brought back a flood of emotions from
visiting Sukarno's grave," she said.

Siskel entered graduate school at Johns Hopkins University in
1976, soon after her return to the U.S. from the Henry Luce
program, and focused on social anthropology and epidemiology,
which was emerging as a subfield of anthropology.

"I was thinking about becoming an academic ... fortunately, it
didn't happen," she smiled.

In spring 1980, she took advanced Bahasa Indonesia with the
"brilliant scholar and wonderful teacher", socio-linguist Dede
Utomo, who is now known for his work in gay rights and HIV
activism.

Siskel returned to Indonesia in 1983 as a Fulbright scholar,
with additional funding from the Social Science Research Council,
after several delays in procuring a visa because of the upcoming
elections. In addition, her husband at the time, another
anthropologist, was unable to obtain a visa as her dependent in
accordance with Indonesian immigration laws. "Every
anthropologist at that time has a visa horror story," she said.

Inspired by James T. Siegel's The Rope of God on Islam in Aceh
that focused primarily on men's roles, Siskel planned to do "the
flip-side" for her doctorate dissertation. She ended up in
Madura, where she was invited to stay at a small family
pesantren, or Islamic boarding school, that was run by women due
to the demise of its head, a prominent local cleric.

"I was able to learn about Islam through their eyes in an
intimate way... And I was able to grow an affection and
appreciation for the religion." The family returned the
sentiment, and even wanted her to convert -- but she did not.

Later, this experience gave her "confidence and a valid
foundation" for speaking at her mother's church group and her
late father's Rotary group about Indonesia and moderate Islam in
post-9/11 America.

Her husband found work with the United States Agency for
International Development (USAID) as a consultant, and upon her
return to Jakarta, she was asked by USAID to be an
anthropological consultant for an irrigation project that
involved the Ministry of Public Works.

Siskel thus went off to the field again, conducting a socio-
economic impact study on the introduction of irrigation system in
rural communities in Timor. Her one year with the agency soon
expanded to four, including a short sting in Flores for the World
Bank on a similar project, and Siskel was thrust into the
development field. During this time, she worked on small-scale
irrigation management projects in South Sulawesi, West Nusa
Tenggara and East Nusa Tenggara.

"I was basically learning about development on the spot... and
I found out that I was more interested in this than academics."

Soon, she became aware of the Ford Foundation, and joined the
independent, philanthropic organization in the late 1980s as
program officer for rural poverty and resources.

"The Ford Foundation is known for 'matchmaking', bringing
together unlikely actors to improve access to information and
resources and in helping to procure more support from government
donations."

For example, the foundation assists in networking between
academics, advocacy groups, the community and hopefully,
government, to improve living conditions and welfare at the
grassroots level. It also assists in skills training and works to
transfer lessons learned from similar projects across the
archipelago. Siskel underlines that Ford primarily helps support
programs initiated by local non-governmental organizations and
other groups.

"It has now changed with decentralization, with more local
accountability to people in the area, which is the exciting part.
But it doesn't mean decentralization is perfect.

"It's also interesting to see people who worked in
participatory projects from before were poised to take leadership
positions when the opportunity appeared with decentralization,"
she said, referring to a community of farmers in Timor that Ford
had helped to establish a network for agricultural development.
"This was a happy side effect of the organizational, leadership
and community skills that were learned where Ford grantees were
working."

Through Ford's cultural revitalization portfolio, she also
came to understand Indonesian arts and culture in an in-depth
way, and gained a deeper respect for the country's cultural
heritage.

Siskel left Indonesia briefly from 1997 to 2000 to take up a
post as Ford Foundation representative in the Philippines.

"So I missed the most exciting period," she said, referring to
the 1998 reformasi movement and subsequent transition to
democracy.

When she returned in 2000, it was as Ford Indonesia
representative.

Since she became Indonesia representative, Siskel has been
developing her personal passion, philanthropy, for positive
social change.

"It has been inspiring to see the kind of giving taking place.
I believe the spirit of giving in this country is not
sufficiently recognized. Philanthropy in Indonesia for Indonesia
has been sort of emerging as a sector ... and the strategic use
of philanthropy has been heartening."

Most recently, she has been inspired by a new international
scholarship program, the International Fellowships Program (IFP),
which is managed by the Indonesian International Education
Foundation. The program is worldwide, and targets marginalized,
talented individuals -- such as physically disabled people from
remote regions and those from historically marginalized areas --
for graduate and post-graduate studies in any country abroad,
with an emphasis on leadership and dedication to community
service.

"The program is about explicitly recognizing and providing
support for people with talent and who normally don't have the
opportunity."

One such individual was Subianto, who returned to his home
province of Aceh two weeks before the tsunami, and perished along
with his family. The response from IFP students around the globe
was immediate, and they initially wanted to give up their stipend
and donate it to aid and recovery in Aceh, which the scholarship
management could not approve. Instead, the students have
collected a modest donation, and Ford is in the process of
developing an education program in Subianto's name.

"It's been gratifying to be able to support positive
activities and to support pluralism" in a country with hundreds
of different ethnic and cultural backgrounds.

"It has been a great luxury, a gift, that I was given this
job ... to help direct the resources of the Ford Foundation to
help people improve their lives."

When asked what she will miss most about Indonesia, she
responds, "Oh, I hate this question," then pauses to consider.

"It's more about missing people, because I don't expect
culture shock when I go back to the U.S. I've been shopping for
cultural (items) so I can recreate a little Indonesia wherever we
are."

As for her new post, from which she will be directing
community and resource development programs in 13 Ford Foundation
offices around the world, "It will be less direct from
headquarters ... and not having as direct a connection with
people makes me sad.

"(Indonesia) has felt like home for so long..."

And what has Indonesia taught her?

"Humility," she replied. "One reason I say that is because
this huge country, with its tremendous diversity, fought to
emerge from a stifling colonial era as a modern country. The
Indonesian people stepped up to the challenge of creating their
country, against adversity. I'm learning so much from Indonesians
all the time -- I have so many teachers, mentors and examples."

She will also miss "really spicy Indonesian food. Especially
Timorese sambal (chili paste)".

Siskel departs for her new post within a week, and it seems
Indonesia is not losing a friend so much as it will be gaining
one on the global scene to speak on its behalf, about the
richness of its history and the generosity of its people.

Will she be back? Siskel responds with an immediate, decisive
and emphatic, "Yes."