Economic Hardship Leaves No Room for Loneliness. Is That Really True?

Loneliness: being alone, with no one to love you or care about you ... I guarantee you won’t feel it if you’re willing to live in Indonesia, especially in its outskirts or rural areas, on any island or in any city.

It’s not because Indonesians are friendly and kind. No. It’s not because we enjoy helping others or neighbors who are going through hard times. Nor is it because we have a tradition of working together for the common good. Is it because we believe everyone is equal, rich or poor? Ah, probably not that either.

As the media have reported, Indonesia’s name has suddenly made headlines around the world because of forest fires in several regions, threatening the lives of people, animals, and plants in the affected areas.

That doesn’t mean areas untouched by forest fires are free of problems. If it isn’t flooding, people have to get used to scorching weather day and night, leading to drought and water shortages. They also have to contend with global stagflation, which drives up prices across the board while jobs remain scarce.

This pileup of problems, rooted in economic hardship, forces people to focus more closely on their work and on how they spend what they earn. Those who are single focus on surviving, while those with families focus on keeping their families afloat.

For most people living in these circumstances, time seems to pass too quickly. Morning is over in a flash, and night arrives before they know it, while the money they earn still isn’t enough to cover their needs. They simply have no time to feel lonely.

Illustration: Mount Arjuno view in Sumber Kalimangun, Randuagung, Malang. 

A Legacy of Sorrow

From the perspective of Indigenous Siberian beliefs, loneliness does not arise only when the need for love and affection goes unmet. For these communities, moving to a place with a milder climate and more comfortable temperatures does not automatically bring them closer to their hopes for a better, more civilized life.

Their elders carried a sense of loss when they were forced to obey bans on practicing their Indigenous rituals in their new home. They were unable to reject the new rules, not because they lacked the courage to resist, but because the people closest to them—their neighbors, relatives, and family members—had already become convinced, for a host of reasons, that their ancestral beliefs were something to leave behind.

The elders of Indigenous Siberian communities kept their homesickness firmly hidden as a way of supporting the younger generations, who hoped for a brighter future. Yet this emotional burden shaped their everyday behavior, including the way they interacted with their children and grandchildren.

This is how loneliness, that hard-to-explain melancholy, was passed down through several generations. It was more than the loss of identity that came when a community chose to be “born again” by abandoning its old beliefs.

 

Free from Loneliness

The Russian government’s recognition of Siberia’s traditional peoples was one factor that encouraged them to rebuild their sense of identity and find their way back to the ancestral wisdom they had long left behind.

Today, they no longer fear leaving offerings at the edge of a forest or beneath a tree. They no longer worry about visitors asking about offerings placed in the living room or on the dining table. Nor do they have to fear the suspicion of people who do not share their beliefs when they leave offerings in public places.

They are no longer anxious about facing any form of punishment in the afterlife, either. The offerings they present are not an act of defiance against, or a rejection of, the Creator of the universe. So why should they be afraid? (dswas).