WE ARE TRAVELING DOWN A BROAD, tree-lined street in north Bali, Indonesia, past old houses built in the Dutch colonial style, past handcarts selling flavored ice or soup. Small vans hell bent on collecting as many passengers as possible are passing us while also breaking speed limits.1 We turn le
ft down a steep, narrow street and spot a large sign that says SLB Bagian B.2 Students ranging from kindergarten age to late secondary school, dressed in neat white shirts and blue or gray shorts or skirts, are pouring out of the ajrawd (boardinghouse) to our left, spilling across the road and into the maze of one-story school buildings. Their faces are lively as their hands fly, signing jokes or ...