The morning dew had not yet completely disappeared when I pushed through the thin mist along the footpath toward the school. I carried my backpack containing a laptop, notebooks, and several documents I had brought from the village hall yesterday afternoon.
My steps halted in front of the rusty iron gate, where a wooden signboard was nailed to the wall beside it, bearing bold letters: "SDN Durian Village Elementary School." A few teachers had already gathered under the old mango tree, chatting lightly while sipping hot coffee. From the gap in the fence, I caught snippets of their banter:
"Chandra is definitely late again."
"Well, you know him—busy protecting the durian orchard."
I allowed a slight smile, then proceeded toward the Informatics classroom, a room I knew well and where my friend Chandra usually taught. The door was half-open, and inside I saw him standing before the blackboard, drawing a flowchart of a program. His hair was slightly tousled, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and he was focused on the chalk scribbles.
"Ah, he's teaching now. All right," I thought, then knocked beside the door.
Chandra looked up. His face lit up as though he had just received good news. He beamed a wide smile. "Gung! Come on in!"
I stepped inside, and about twenty students in the classroom turned their heads. They broke into shy smiles, and one little girl waved to me bashfully.
"Good morning, Brother Agung," she greeted softly.
"Brother Agung… Brother Agung!" other students called out.
"Wow, so many greeting me, Chan," I murmured.
Chandra put away his chalk. "Apologies, everyone, we have a special guest today. This is Brother Agung, my childhood friend who has just returned to the village."
A light round of applause followed. I waved back at them, then saw Chandra turn toward me meaningfully.
"Now, Gung, I want to talk about our plan," he continued after seating the students again. "At the village hall yesterday, we agreed to form an evaluation and outreach team. This team will be divided into several divisions: field documentation, digital data, social media campaign, and school education."
I swallowed and felt my adrenaline surge. "Exactly! I've already met with Pak Warjo, and he's ready to serve as our primary resource person for documentation. Several villagers have also agreed to be interviewed. Tomorrow morning I'll begin interviews in the orchard."
Chandra nodded. "Great! For the digital data division, I've created a template in Google Forms. We can use villagers' smartphones to input daily data on harvest yields, maintenance costs, and weather notes. My students will help teach their parents how to input the information."
I chuckled softly. "A digital campaign in the village, huh? Awesome. What about the education stage?"
Enthusiastically, Chandra walked to his desk and retrieved several sheets of paper. "I've made a short module titled 'Why Durian Matters.' It includes simple illustrations of the agroforestry ecosystem flow, a comparative income graph, and an interactive village map showing durian orchard locations. We'll hold a small workshop after school, at 4:00 PM in the village meeting room."
I raised an eyebrow. "4:00 PM, after school? I think that's the right time, since villagers will have returned from the fields, and some schoolchildren can join. But how do we invite them?"
Chandra tossed a colorful leaflet onto the desk. The leaflet displayed a heart-shaped durian image with the words "Let's Love Our Orchards! Virtual Tour and Durian Discussion." Below it were the event's time and location, plus the invitation: "Free Fresh Durian for the First 50 Participants!"
I studied the leaflet. "Free durian? This will definitely attract a crowd."
Chandra grinned. "Yes, but on the condition that they attend and sign a small petition. Not a formal, complicated petition, but rather a simple commitment from villagers stating they agree to preserve at least 80% of the village's land as durian orchards. We'll photograph the petition pages and store them in our database."
I thought for a moment. "Also ensure we have a seating area and a clear presenter setup. I can bring a portable whiteboard, and please get a mini projector ready. I borrowed one from a friend in the city."
Chandra nodded quickly. "Got it! About the projector, I've already arranged it. One unit will arrive this morning. Now, we need to decide which students will be on the digital documentation team."
I looked around the classroom. A few students looked curious, their eyes shining at the mention of a new project. I pointed to a thin boy with thick glasses who was diligently taking notes.
"Perfect, that kid—Rio," I said, pointing. "Rio, would you like to help the digital team?"
Rio nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Brother Agung!"
Chandra then pointed to a short-haired girl who looked nimble. "And you, Lia, assist with leaflet design and social media posts."
Lia widened her eyes, then smiled brightly. "I'd love to!"
At that point, they created a small team list: three students for data input, two for design, one for photo documentation, and the rest for event execution. Chandra wrote their names on the blackboard, detailing assignments and schedules.
After a brief discussion, the bell signaling break rang. The children hurried outside, leaving Chandra and me alone in the classroom. I turned to my friend.
"We already have the foundation of our team. Now, I want to discuss the core message we want to convey at the workshop later."
Chandra pulled a chair closer and leaned back casually. "Core message, huh… perhaps 'Durian: Our Heritage for Our Future.' Short but powerful. We'll explain historical value, economic value, ecological value, and socio-cultural value."
I nodded. "Those four values are good. We can start with the historical—how our parents and grandparents built the orchard after returning from the city, the struggle of planting beloved durian seeds, and stories of the communal harvest tradition."
Chandra jotted down "1. Historical" in his notebook, then continued, "2. Economic: income data, case studies from other villages. 3. Ecological: agroforestry's role in preserving water and soil, biodiversity. 4. Socio-cultural: durian festivals, folklore, traditional cuisine."
"Agreed," I replied. "To keep it from sounding too dry, we can insert a light narrative—like a metaphor comparing durian to the village's heart: tough and spiky on the outside, but soft and sweet within, reflecting our people's character."
Chandra chuckled. "Nice! Soft inside but firm outside. That could be the hashtag: #DurianHeart."
I grabbed my phone and typed: #DurianHeart. "Later we'll upload a photo of a spiky durian with a brief explanation about this hashtag."
Our workshop preparation session ended as the Informatics lesson resumed. Chandra picked up chalk and wrote on the board, "Assignment: Prepare materials and attend workshop at 16:00 in the Village Hall." The students busied themselves taking notes.
I organized the documents in my bag. Suddenly, Chandra tapped my shoulder, lowering his voice. "Gung, this is serious. We're moving quickly, but be cautious of provocation. The village head might send people to disrupt the event."
I met his gaze. "I know! We'll prepare security from reliable villagers like Pak Warjo and several elders. The children shouldn't be involved; we must protect them."
Chandra nodded confidently. "Okay! I'll contact Pak Ahmad, the coffee vendor. He can alert us if he sees any suspicious vehicles."
I offered a small smile. "Excellent! All right, I'll head to the Village Hall right after fourth period ends. We'll check the venue and logistics."
Chandra put down the chalk and tapped the desk. "Got it. Good luck, Gung!"
Three hours later, after teaching a session on basic coding principles, I walked out toward the village hall. The street was quiet, with only birdsong and the rustle of wind. I put on sunglasses to stay focused and project a bit of authority.
In the village hall courtyard, a few villagers were arranging folding chairs and setting up a small projection screen. A long registration table awaited, equipped with pens, petition forms, and mineral water bottles. A young man named Mahfud was adjusting stacks of green plastic chairs. His face brightened when he saw me.
"Brother Agung!" he greeted. "We have 100 chairs ready."
I nodded. "Good, that exceeds our target. Don't forget to leave a space at the front for the children so they can see the screen."
Mahfud quickly moved some chairs, while Chandra appeared with four students carrying cardboard boxes filled with leaflets and durian stickers.
"Nice setup," I commented, taking it all in. "How about the sound system?"
Chandra pointed to a corner of the hall where two small speakers were already in place, connected to the laptop's soundcard. "We tested it—sound carries clearly to the courtyard."
I stroked my chin. "Great! After this, I'll check the electricity access and internet connection. If stable, we can stream to the village's WhatsApp group."
Chandra patted my hand. "Perfect! The network is strong—we tested video chat with students in the city last night and it was smooth."
Suddenly, the village head, Pak Suyono, appeared at the door of the hall, accompanied by two of his assistants. He wore a brand-new formal batik shirt. I tensed for a moment, but Chandra gave me a calm nod—a signal to remain respectful.
"Agung, Chandra," Pak Suyono greeted with a friendly smile. "I hear there's a workshop here today. I'm glad to see the villagers' enthusiasm."
I responded politely, "Thank you, Village Head. We just want to share data and stories so villagers can make the best choice for our village."
Pak Suyono studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. I'll observe. May the event run smoothly."
He stepped outside, leaving us behind. I leaned back and exhaled slowly. "The protocol stage is over. Now comes execution."
Chandra raised his camera and began filming the preparations. "We can use these clips to create an event teaser."
I smiled, scanning the surroundings. The green durian-themed banners reading "Let's Love Our Orchards" blended with the morning's ambiance. There was a current of hope in the air—a belief that the village's future would be safeguarded by young and old alike, united in renewed spirit.
"Let's go, Gung," I whispered. "Time to open a new chapter for this village."
And amid the hustle of preparations, I started arranging the small stage for my first question to Chandra…