Drive around South Philly and it doesn't take long to see signs of an exotic font with curly letters that seem to fit somewhere along a continuum between Chinese pictographs and the calligraphy of Urdu and Arabic. Since the beginning of the new millennium, Philadelphia's Indonesian population has grown significantly, and according to the Migration Policy Institute, its size now ranks ninth among Indonesian communities throughout the United States.

A newly released report from The Pew Charitable Trusts, A City Transformed: The Racial and Ethnic Changes in Philadelphia Over the Last 20 Years, reveals that Philadelphia's Asian community has more than doubled since 1990. A nation of more than 225 million people, Indonesia is among Southeast Asia's poorest countries, a fact compounded by the 2004 tsunami. It is also a classic labor-surplus nation, with underemployment at more than 20 percent (45 million workers by the end of 2006).

A somewhat insular and soft-spoken group, the Indonesians of Philadelphia have quietly found their way into the fabric of the city, populating public schools, setting up shop in corner groceries, and building community initiatives. We look at three individuals who arrived in Philadelphia a decade ago, leaving behind family and country to create a new life from scratch.

A Foodie's Chance Encounter
It's a warm spring day in South Philly. Just a few blocks west of the venerable Melrose Diner, a simple lunch take-out sits across from Stephen Girard Elementary School. Fan's Cafe has no menu and no seats, but the aroma is a siren call to the curious. An incredible bustle greets the visitor. Countless Styrofoam containers are being filled from streaming cauldrons and sizzling grill. The scents of curry and garlic fill the air. There is one problem. No one behind the counter speaks English.

To the rescue: a kind woman who works across the street at Girard Elementary, stopping in for a quick take-out lunch. Introducing herself as Mega, she steps in as translator and takes control of the whole situation. She orders the plate of the day and explains that it will be five dollars. A weighty container arrives, filled with chicken, rice, vegetables and sides. Enough for two lunches. A secret hole in the wall, closed to those outside the Indonesian community. Mega explains that Fan's is primarily a catering establishment, and sure enough, dozens of containers are being loaded into boxes for pick up. We say goodbye, but the connection lingers, and it's impossible to forget the kindness of the School District of Philadelphia employee.

A call to School District headquarters yields a phone number for Mega Eischen, who is the sole Indonesian bilingual counselor for the entire school district. We meet at South Philadelphia High School, one of Mega's many stops during the week. We head over to nearby Hardena, one of two Indonesian restaurants known to many Philadelphians (the other being Indonesia Restaurant), at the corner of Moore and Hicks Street. Again, Mega translates, and it's surprising to note how many vegan options are available on the steam table. For $8 each, we get plates piled with our choice of stews and curries.

Mega explains that Hardena's style of food is closest to her native Jakarta.

Indonesia is comprised of over 17,000 islands in Southeast Asia. It lies just north of Australia. Indonesians are Muslim, Roman Catholic, Protestant, Buddhist, Hindu and Confucian. Here in Philadelphia, the majority of immigrants are Muslim and Catholic. Mega, who identifies as ethnic Chinese, is the latter. Arriving in the US in August 2001 via political asylum, with two small children and a thousand dollars in her pocket, Mega quickly made her way from New York to Philadelphia. Although she studied language in Indonesia and speaks Chinese, Japanese, German, Spanish, Russian, Sanskrit, Arabic and English, her first few jobs were in the food industry while she awaited legal status in the US. Almost immediately, Mega began volunteering at the Nationalities Service Center and Catholic Social Services, helping Indonesian immigrants navigate the complexities of their new home.

By 2006, Mega was employed by The School District of Philadelphia. She functions on many levels, as a liaison between the school and families, as a translator, and in some cases, as a disciplinarian. "I treat them like my own kids," says Mega. "'Pahala' means karma. I plant a seed. As an immigrant, I know the situation."

Rubber Time
"In the Indonesian classroom, there's a very defined role between teacher and student," says Nicole Yarbrough, Co-director of the Education Department of SEAMAAC, the Southeast Asian Mutual Assistance Association Coalition. "Students would never speak up. So when Indonesians are taking on leadership roles in America, developing a voice and becoming outspoken, they are overcoming some big cultural differences." Yarbrough runs a weekly drop in center at SEAMAAC, which welcomes not only Southeast Asians, but also South Philadelphia's Spanish speaking immigrants. While drop in hours are officially 1 to 3 p.m., Yarbrough says Indonesians have a concept known as rubber time. The program may begin up to an hour late, and this elastic notion of time is as much a part of Indonesian culture as its food, which is always present and a necessary aspect of any gathering.

One of the essential elements of SEAMAAC's mission is health care information, and Yarbrough has found an ally in Riani Rasyid, a Muslim woman who arrived in the US from Jakarta, like Mega, in 2001. At SEAMAAC's spring gala dinner last week, Riani was presented with the Excellence in Community Leadership Award. With four small children of her own, Riani volunteers in the area of women's health. "I advertise in Kabar Kilat, the Indonesian newspaper," says Riani. "If you want a free mammogram, you can call me. I explain breast cancer, make appointments, call to remind you and go with you to translate."

Riani's services extend beyond mammograms, making sure that families have good access to health care and other resources like English as a Second Language (ESL) classes. Riani has received leadership training through SEAMAAC, and now occupies a unique role advocating for the community on a variety of fronts, from housing, to obtaining a visa, to education. "In Indonesia, we pay every month for school," explains Riani, citing one of myriad differences between the Southeast Asian and American cultures. "I want to be a mom, but I also want to do something for my community." Riani and her family belong to the Masjid Al-Falah mosque at 17th and Tasker, which is also the headquarters for the ICGP, the Indonesian Community of Greater Philadelphia.

Find us on Facebook
The Ramayana Store sits solidly at the corner of 7th and Tasker. Of all the tiny corner stores opened by Indonesian immigrants in South Philadelphia, Ramayana is the only one with a Facebook fan page, an eCommerce website, Skype and IM capabilities. Propietor Erwin Siswanto explains that his customer base is national, and from a small shop stacked floor to ceiling with everything from Indonesian beauty products to specialty snacks, Erwin sends out packages to Kansas, Minnesota, and Florida, as well as more local places like Harrisburg and Scranton.

"We ran away from the riots," explains Erwin, referring to the violence that erupted due to poor economic conditions in three major Indonesian cities in May 1998, spurring a major Indonesian influx. The Ramayana store functions as something of a drop in community center. Several men arrive to make purchases but remain to listen to the conversation, drink tea and eat banana leaf wrapped sweet rice filled with chicken. Milling about in the background is an elderly woman Erwin calls his adopted mom.

The shop is a mix of old and new South Philly. The walls are covered in padded and studded Naugahyde, recalling former days as an Italian owned business, which Erwin guesses was a barber shop. "We have a lot of friends here," says Erwin of his choice to locate in Philadelphia. "We started out in North Philly." His first job was with a temporary employment agency, and about seven years ago, Erwin, who is single, relocated to be near his church, St. Nicholas of Tolentine, at 9th and Morris Streets. "We try to provide for the needs of Indonesians," says Erwin, whose store is the only Indonesian shop east of Broad Street. Ramayana is open seven days a week and you will always see Erwin at the counter, selling phone cards along with take-out Indonesian delicacies.

"Because we are all Asian, we mostly keep our feelings to ourselves," explains Erwin of the low key presence of the Indonesian community. "It's taboo to speak our minds." So while his Ramayana store has a national presence, few Philadelphians know of its existence, and the same can be said of the couple thousand Indonesians who live and work in the Philadelphia metropolitan area. It's a group that remains almost invisible to the larger Philadelphia population, but people like Erwin, Riani and Mega who are quietly creating community and building bridges for all.

SUE SPOLAN is Innovation and Jobs News editor for Flying Kite. Send feedback here.

PHOTOS:

Erwin Sis inside his South Philadelphia store

Products for sale at Erwin's store

Nicole Yarbrough and Amy Jones at SEAMAAC

Amy Jones facilitates regular drop-in meetings at SEAMAAC with Indonesian-Americans in South Philadelphia

The women at SEAMAAC will often bring their children so they can participate in creative projects

Merlin Wahyudi-Lamson and Yohanes Sulistiyo (center) with others at a drop-in session in South Philadelphia

Amy Jones, the Health and Services Coordinator at SEAMAAC

Nicole Yarbrough, the Education Department Co-Director

All photographs by MICHAEL PERSICO