‘You just get used to waiting’: Exploring the temporal dimensions of in-country educational experiences

Abstract

This article explores the temporal dimensions of in-country educational experiences in relation to their potential to contribute to the development of intercultural capacities. Given trends in higher education towards ‘globalising’ students and the perceived benefits of study abroad, this article argues for a detailed and nuanced examination of the temporal dimensions of such experiences. This analysis reveals the complex and multiple ways in which relations to ‘time’ might act pedagogically upon participants. Drawing on a study of Australian university students undertaking semester-long programs in Indonesia, qualitative data gathered over a period of time (pre-departure, while in-country, and post-return) demonstrates the ways in which temporality operates in the potential development of interculturality. Firstly, engagement with alternate temporal framing is considered, through a discussion of students’ navigation of ‘Indonesian time’. Secondly, the multitude of times operating in this context are examined. Finally, the significance of diverse temporal rhythms in-country is discussed. Utilising Bourdieu’s conceptual tools, particularly the notion of habitus, these three areas of analysis indicate the significance of understanding the development of intercultural capacities as a range of pedagogic processes that are both cumulative and embodied. This research demonstrates how engaging with diverse temporal relations in-country can function pedagogically to expand one’s repertoire of dispositions; not only through an opening up to new ‘possibles’, but also through allowing time to establish new responses and ways of being in the world.

Introduction

Since the 1990s, the ‘internationalisation’ of education has become a priority for the higher education sectors of many countries, with various forms of study-abroad programs acknowledged as one way of ‘globalising’ students (Forsey, Broomhall and Davis, 2012). Both in Australia and internationally, increasing numbers of students are including an in-country educational program as part of their tertiary study (ACICIS, 2021; Anderson, Hubbard, and Lawton, 2015). The reported total of outgoing students from Australian universities grew by more than 11% in 2019 – from 52,171 students in 2018 to 58,058 students in 2019 ¹ (ACICIS, 2021: 17). This is consistent with rapid growth for more than a decade (ACICIS, 2021: 17). Historically, study-abroad programs have been a way to enhance language learning away from the home university but, over time, in-country programs have also been credited with a range of other outcomes. Educators, students and parents have been found to believe that study abroad increases career prospects, develops cultural awareness and fosters personal development (Anderson, Hubbard, and Lawton, 2015; Coleman, 1997). These attributes and competencies (along with increased employability) are valued by both universities and governments and are often highlighted in the marketing of such programs (Forsey, Broomhall and Davis, 2012; Tran and Vu, 2018). Despite the increasing rates of students participating in study-abroad programs, and the strong discourse of ‘benefits’ surrounding such programs – especially those of an intercultural nature – questions remain about the extent of these benefits, and the ways they are accrued. In particular, this article considers the way in which the temporal dimensions of such experiences might act pedagogically upon students.

Although there are exceptions, a review of the literature finds support for a relationship between participation in study-abroad programs and intercultural development (Paige and Vande Berg, 2012). Such ‘intercultural’ benefits have been articulated in various ways, including ‘intercultural sensitivity and flexibility’ (Coryell, 2011: 4); ‘cross-cultural awareness’ (Shiveley and Misco, 2015: 112); an ‘increase in tolerance’; and a decreased tendency ‘to engage in stereotyping’ (Bennett, 2010: 1). A prevalent view exists (both within and beyond academe) that mere exposure to another culture, that is, being ‘immersed’, will bring about these kinds of benefits automatically (Vande Berg, Paige and Lou, 2012). But this view is being challenged by emerging claims that exposure to a ‘foreign’ culture alone may not be enough for the development of interculturality (Anderson, Hubbard, and Lawton, 2015; Engberg and Jourian, 2015). Rather, some researchers are now arguing that study-abroad programs can provide ‘important opportunities’ for intercultural development (Vande Berg, Connor-Linton and Paige, 2009: 18); a foundation on which to build, rather than an end in itself (Engle and Engle, 2012). Uusimaki and Swirski (2016: 426) warn that the tensions, complexity and value of international experiences for cross-cultural understanding are still underexplored and that these programs may not always result in the desired outcomes. Some scholars have even argued that in-country experiences may be counter-productive in developing interculturality, serving to reinforce essentialised notions of cultural identity, and existing power relations (Santoro, 2014; Welsh, 2015).

An assumed connection between in-country education and the development of intercultural capacities is frequently made, but such claims have rarely considered precisely how such capacities are developed, nor the extent to which they might be transferrable across different intercultural settings. What is clear, though, is the social imperative to address how individuals might develop such capacities, with many parts of the world becoming increasingly diverse, not only in the number of people from ethnically diverse backgrounds, but also in the complexity of this diversity (Rizvi, 2019; Vertovec, 2007). Considering the role of time in such contexts produces deeper insights into the temporal dimensions of not only study-abroad experiences, but learning more generally. This article considers some of the ways in which the temporal dimensions of in-country education might contribute to interculturalisation; a notion I develop elsewhere to connote the processual nature of such capacities in ways that are embodied and cumulative (Naidu, 2021). Reference is made to Bourdieu’s conceptual tools (particularly the notions of habitus, illusio, and hexis) to support the analysis of students’ experiences in-country.

Considering time in in-country education

Since there are assumptions around the ‘automatic’ accrual of benefits via study abroad, it is crucial to consider whether intercultural development can be understood as simply a ‘matter of time’ in-country. In the context of study abroad, time is most often framed in discussions around the duration of in-country programs, but there is a lack of agreement in the literature about the ‘optimum’ period of time spent in-country, especially given that program duration interacts with other aspects of the experience to determine outcomes (Coleman, 1997). The Georgetown Consortium Project found that semester-long programs had the best outcomes for intercultural development, but only modestly (Paige and Vande Berg, 2012: 37). In a large-scale longitudinal survey of study-abroad alumni, Dwyer (2004) concludes that the age-old premise that ‘more is better’ holds true when it comes to the duration of a study-abroad experience. However, she also acknowledges several complicating factors in attempting to separate program duration from other factors in determining outcomes of the experience. Regardless of what might be considered ‘ideal’, data on in-country program participation shows trends towards fewer students studying abroad for a full year, and significant increases in short-stay programs (ACICIS, 2021). Some researchers have concluded that short-term in-country programs can also have significant ‘intercultural’ benefits (Dwyer, 2004; Shiveley and Misco, 2015), but others have expressed scepticism; warning against their potential to reinforce stereotypes and power relations (Santoro, 2014; Welsh, 2015). A critical perspective is required here to grapple with the complexities surrounding intercultural development, particularly how such experiences bring about these reported benefits. Moreover, time has often been dealt with in a superficial manner in both policy and research on study abroad, tending to reduce the temporal components of student mobility to relatively linear and measurable forms (Collins and Shubin, 2017: 23). The problem with such approaches is that the temporal experiences of participants (that is, their lived experiences of time) are neglected. Research needs to extend beyond asking whether ‘more is better’, and question what it is about an extended stay that might promote greater intercultural development. Moreover, what is it about being in-country, temporally speaking, that might exert pedagogic force?

Intercultural encounters are always temporal, but this is not always evident in research and theorisations about the development of intercultural capacities. Time is central to issues of interculturality, as ‘a dimension through which the fundamental tenets of a culture are learnt, disseminated and held to be true’ (Nanni, 2012: 9). Though experience of time is a human universal, the ways in which that experience is measured, perceived and conceptualised can vary widely from culture to culture (5). Attitudes towards time are the implicit basis of our behaviour patterns, even the simplest ones (Bourdieu, 1963: 72). Just as the socio-political and geographic context of any encounter is significant in its analysis, so too is its temporal context. This pertains to the duration of the study-abroad program, when it was undertaken and, importantly, its internal temporal dimensions as experienced by participants. The data in this study reflects particular points in time, in particular settings, each with their own socio-political and cultural contours, all bearing on participants’ experiences. Given that interactions with both human and non-human actors are significant in the pedagogic function of study-abroad programs, these encounters will vary with each new cohort of students and as ‘host’ destinations continually undergo change. Analysing the temporal dimensions of such experiences provides a ‘critical anchor’ for understanding the processes, dynamics and possibilities of mobility (Cwerner, 2001: 15). A temporal lens allows us to examine the plurality of times (Adam, 1995; Hoy, 2009) within the in-country experience, as lived by participants, and the potential of these to exert pedagogic force.

One way that the in-country experience exerts pedagogic force is through an embodied engagement with diverse temporal rhythms, which can act as a disruption to the habitus and offer opportunities for interculturalisation. Bourdieu (2000: 43) defined the habitus as ‘a system of dispositions, that is of permanent manners of being, seeing, acting and thinking, or a system of long-lasting (rather than permanent) schemes…of perception, conception and action’. More than just an encounter with ‘Indonesian time’ (or ‘times’, more accurately), disruption to the habitus occurs in this context through multiple means, such as the freeing up of ‘more time’, and diverse orientations to time. These temporal orientations constitute part of the broader pedagogic orientation (Naidu, 2021), exemplifying one of the ways students develop degrees of attunement to the in-country setting. Though time is integral to Bourdieu’s work (1963, 1990, 2000), qualitative research on the temporal dimensions of the habitus in cross-cultural settings, at the level of the individual, are lacking (with some exceptions, such as the work of Xu, 2021). This article explores the temporality of the in-country experience and its relation to the development of intercultural capacities through analysing the intersection of multiple cultural temporal relations, including ‘Indonesian time’, and embodied rhythms and tempos experienced by participants.

The research context

Research directed towards understanding the relationship between study abroad and intercultural development has been largely quantitative in nature, relying on standardised research instruments and scales (Paige and Vande Berg, 2012). Drawing on research from a larger project aimed at exploring the potential of the in-country experience to develop intercultural capacities, this research examines the experiences of Australian students participating in semester-long study programs through the Australian Consortium for In-Country Indonesian Studies (ACICIS). After receiving ethics approval for the study, and obtaining the relevant research permits to conduct research in Indonesia, participants were recruited from two ACICIS program streams: the Flexible Language Immersion Program (FLIP) and the Development Studies Immersion Program (DSIP). FLIP students choose a mix of Indonesian language classes and other regular curriculum immersion subjects, based on their language ability and interest. The DSIP, on the other hand, involves a 6-week period of intensive language study, followed by a 2-month professional placement conducted in partnership with local NGOs, community-based organisations, and government agencies (ACICIS n.d). From these two programs, both based at Universitas Gadjah Mada in Yogyakarta, a sample of 16 participants was recruited: a mix of female and male students, from a range of university courses across Australia, and with varying levels of Indonesian language proficiency. These participants were interviewed at several points in time, starting with a pre-departure interview. I then spent the first week with them in-country, attending their orientation course and conducting focus groups. I returned around halfway through the semester, doing one-on-one interviews with each of the participants and spending additional time with them where possible. A final round of interviews was conducted after their return to Australia, generally around three months post-return. The fieldwork process, then, spanned over a period of approximately 1 year and involved interviews conducted in Australia and Indonesia, both online and in-person. The interview schedule was semi-structured and included questions on a range of topics related to participants’ expectations, experiences, and reflections related to the study-abroad experience. The issue of time was raised explicitly at some points, while also emerging through discussions of other topics at times. Data from this core group was complemented by observations, interviews with ACICIS in-country staff members, and focus groups with local Indonesian students acting as student buddies for the program. Thematic analysis of the interview transcripts highlighted the significance of temporality in the experiences of students in this context. The methodology employed, therefore, affords a more detailed interrogation of how time in-country might intersect with the development of intercultural capacities; not only through fieldwork conducted at several points in time, but via the detailed nature of the data which yields deeper insight into participants’ lived experiences.

When the rubber hits the road: the challenge of ‘Indonesian time’

Most people who have studied Indonesian, or spent time in Indonesia, will be familiar with the concept of ‘jam karet’. The ACICIS Yogyakarta Pre-Departure Guide (ACICIS, 2018b: 29) states:

The classic Indonesian expression jam karet or ‘rubber time’ is a concept reflecting a rather relaxed attitude towards ‘time management.’ It basically means that ‘time is elastic’ ... things happen when they happen, it all just takes the time it takes. Depending on the situation, jam karet can be frustrating, infuriating or just plain fascinating in the way it shows how different cultures structure and conceptualise time according to local circumstances and needs.

Slides used during the orientation program described the people of Yogyakarta as ‘Santai ² and WOLES ³ ’, advising students to ‘Get used to slow service’ (ACICIS, 2018a). The inclusion of this information indicates its perceived significance, or perhaps a legacy of past participants having found this aspect of the experience challenging. Though the idea of jam karet has been noted in existing literature from various disciplinary perspectives (see, for example, Adeney, 2019; Fox, 2020; Karsten, 2013; Tam, 2015), these mostly consist of passing references rather than detailed analyses. This is, of course, not a uniquely Indonesian phenomenon, and must be recognised as the product of colonial encounters between European notions of time and those of the colonised ‘other’, often portrayed in racist stereotypes of the incurably lazy ‘native’ (Nanni, 2012: 13). Colonial perceptions of ‘Aboriginal time’ and ‘African time’, for example, also shaped Europeans' attitudes to these societies respectively, drawing upon nineteenth-century discourses of race, human nature, and civilisation that were employed to justify colonisation (9). The broader historical context of such alternative temporal framings, therefore, must be kept in mind when examining participants’ experiences of ‘Indonesian time’.

Despite ACICIS’ foreshadowing of jam karet, some participants struggled to cope with this cultural difference. Alison, ⁴ a DSIP participant, had been optimistic in this regard, describing herself as ‘fairly adaptable’ and saying she was ‘looking forward to embracing’ this aspect of the experience. Finding it more difficult than she expected, however, she realised that her sense of efficacy about being able to adapt was based on previous travels, where experiences as a tourist afforded a feeling of being ‘in control’. She drew a distinction within this fluid approach to time between social and professional contexts, displaying a lack of tolerance for what she perceived as markers of inefficiency and ‘unprofessional’ behaviour. Post-return, she reflected:

They’re just so easy-going about things, and timeframes...they’re not worried about it...and they wonder why they’re not developing, like, easy – you can work that one out in five minutes...and other challenges...it was mainly the heat and the time-framing…[which we’d] been told about before we left...that things go on rubber time, and I thought, ‘Well…I’ll do that…’, but I still found that challenging.

Aware of this cultural difference, Alison intended to be adaptable in-country but – when the rubber hit the road – it was more difficult than anticipated. Her highly organised life in Australia, including many years in a career that valued structure, resulted in a habitus that strongly resisted the temporal phenomenon of jam karet. Alison’s temporal perspective, inculcated in fields which deem slowness and lateness as normative deficits, remained steadfast during her time in-country. More than an individual character trait, this signals a disposition towards specific temporalities characteristic of the fields in which they have developed. Alison’s perception of time as a resource, to be spent or wasted, is a product of the ‘time-discipline’ imposed by Western industrial capitalism (Thompson, 1967). Her words echoa distinctly European epistemology determining what counts as true and false time, and a lack of understanding that notions of ‘punctuality’ and ‘development’ differ considerably from culture to culture (Nanni, 2012: 5–9). Given the durability of the habitus (Bourdieu, 1990), the temporal dimensions of the in-country experience – though they might act as a disruption – cannot be said to automatically result in modification of the habitus.

Although it may be tempting to explain Alison’s response in terms of age (i.e., surmising that older students may be less likely to adapt), the example of Eric, another DSIP participant, counters this idea. Both Alison and Eric were among the older participants in the cohort, yet Eric displayed one of the most adaptable dispositions to the experience’s temporal dimensions. He appeared to embrace the santai character of Yogyakarta, unworried when scheduled events did not run to time:

I don’t find it a struggle because...I understand...it is just the way it is…I still get to places early, but…if people don’t turn up for another 45 minutes…it’s fine…I don’t get upset about it, it’s like, I knew this was going to happen.

He observed others struggling with this lack of punctuality, but rather than fault local people, he apportioned blame to his fellow participants:

Students need to listen to ACICIS a lot more…and actually really listen...when we were first talking about the internships…[an ACICIS staff member] said, ‘Listen...this is Indonesia...I might not hear about your internship until two days before you start...this is the way it goes’…and so it comes to internships and people are getting upset...blaming ACICIS…that it wasn’t happening...as quickly as they wanted it to happen…but ACICIS have been very open and honest about it, they haven’t gone, ‘Oh, yeah, we’re going to organise this and it’s all going to be ready two weeks beforehand’…they’ve said...‘It doesn’t work like that here’…it’s the same with going to meetings…it does not work that way, and people…want to impose their time frames, what they want, when they want it.

Eric links the frustration of other students to a lack of attention to ACICIS’ instructions, as well as a lack of desire to adapt to local ways. The root of such inflexibility, however, is not simply a lack of will. Instead, it is the sedimentation of past experiences, forming the habitus and the pedagogic orientation of the student, that generates such responses. Paige, also a student in the DSIP cohort, linked her response to ‘Indonesian time’ to past experiences, saying:

I’ve seen...where other people have reacted…when a teacher didn’t show up to class...like, a bit frustrated, but that’s kind of like the whole experience of even being here...that’s what it’s like at Indonesian universities…and maybe...Indonesian time, compared to…Australian time...I think, from...living in Asian countries, it’s like, [laughing] ‘Well, that’s just how it is’.

Viewing it as part of the in-country experience, Paige demonstrates an acceptance of this different temporal framing, which she attributes to previously living in Asia. Both she and Eric express a degree of intercultural capacity through their acceptance of cultural difference as ‘just the way it is’, highlighting the cumulative character of the habitus, where temporality is key.

More than just resignation to people running late, Caitlin, a FLIP student, saw the development of particular capacities within herself as a result of navigating these different temporal orientations. She came to see her experiences in Yogyakarta as related to an increased capacity for patience and flexibility:

I…have never been a very patient person...[laughing] But I am so patient now...You just get used to waiting...you just kind of learn to...be willing to wait for things, and know that you’re going to have to wait for things. Plans change...last second...and whatever you’ve planned to have happened, is not going to happen...something else will happen…and will usually be just as fun and exciting, and is sometimes more fun, because you’re like, ‘I don’t know how the hell we got to this kind of karaoke place and spent three hours singing, but I really enjoyed it’.

Caitlin positively regards these changes within herself and her outlook, naming them as something she learned during her time in-country. Consistent in her intention to adapt, she utilises the pedagogic opportunity presented via the temporal context of ‘Indonesian time’. This indicates a disruption to the habitus, which is ordinarily a reliable predictor of the imminent future. As Bourdieu (2000, 210) explains, ‘Habitus is that presence of the past in the present which makes possible the presence in the present of the forth-coming…habitus combines in a single aim a past and a forth-coming neither of which is posited as such’. Caitlin has repeatedly had her sense of what is forth-coming confronted, initially being surprised at having to ‘wait for things’, or when plans unexpectedly change. The discrepancy between what is anticipated and what occurs prompts a consciousness of time and her relations to it, such as ‘waiting’ and ‘patience’ (209). What emerges, then, via the analysis of such experiences is the significance of the intersections of time, habitus, and pedagogy. It is because this capacity to anticipate is ‘acquired in and through practice and familiarization with a field’ (210–211), manifest in concrete situations, that Caitlin ‘learns’ to wait; coming to expect not only that plans will change, but to embrace the possibilities that alternative plans may bring. What Caitlin – and other participants – seemed less cognisant of was the broader socio-historic contexts of these different relations to time. That is, while recognising the phenomenon of ‘Indonesian time’, they placed this in contrast with what they perceived as individual temporal dispositions, for example, ‘I have never been a very patient person’. There was little acknowledgement of the cultural and historical conditions which shaped these dispositions towards time, valuing characteristics such as efficiency and punctuality.

The pedagogic force of engaging with ‘Indonesian time’ was also exemplified by Isaac, another FLIP participant. During the first week in-country he shared these initial impressions of life in Yogyakarta:

It’s just a bit slow for me…my usual life is pretty fast paced…it’s very odd to me, just being content, like wasting days…and months…I’m just like confused at the whole culture, like how everyone is happy just…chilling, that just doesn’t make sense to me.

Yogyakarta’s slower tempo is at odds with Isaac’s habitus, presenting as confusing and lacking ‘sense’. Though deeming this different temporal orientation as a ‘wasting’ of time, he also acknowledged some advantages to this slower pace, such as his Indonesian housemates being readily available to help him whenever he had a problem. Around mid-semester, he commented:

I still would rather...be doing stuff all the time, but I’ve become accustomed to...and it’s also kind of nice...to just like…sit...and not do anything...but…I also feel like it’s time wasted, but I’m trying to get over that...I’m definitely looking forward to going back to Oz, ⁵ like, I’m loving my time here...but…yeah, looking forward to going back to my hectic life…maybe this is a nice break from it, and maybe I’ll be able to appreciate...looking back on this time.

Isaac displays an intentionality in his approach to the temporal dimensions of the experience, deliberately addressing his mindset that a slower pace of life is ‘time wasted’, and now recognising positive aspects of slowing down. Rather than changing the habitus in regard to his relation to time, this is an expansion of his repertoire of dispositions. Lahire’s (2011: 32) metaphor of a ‘stock’ of social repertoires speaks to the importance of past experiences in generating present behaviour, wherein these ‘repertoires of schemes of action (habits) are ensembles of summaries of social experiences, which have been constructed and embodied in the course of previous socialization’. This ‘stock’ of repertoires makes available a range of responses and behaviours to each of us, developed via the experiences we have had. For this reason, the trajectory of each student is individual, bearing on their time in-country in different ways. In this example, Isaac has not become unable or unwilling to maintain a busy schedule – in fact, he looks forward to returning to it – but he is now developing a capacity to adapt to the slower pace that surrounds him. He sees it as unlikely that he will sit and ‘not do anything’ after returning home, the way he does in Yogyakarta, but he has learned he can do it, thereby adding to his repertoire of dispositions.

A multitude of times

As evident in the above quote from Isaac, there are more ‘times’ at work in-country than simply jam karet. Adam (1995: 12) outlines a ‘multitude of times’ common to humans, including relations of ‘clock time’, ‘machine time’, ‘when time’, and those based on biological and natural rhythms. While ‘other’ cultures may have different perceptions of time, they will still have multiple relations to it, and although much academic literature has placed ‘modern’ and ‘traditional’ concepts of time at odds, in reality we all participate in multiple relations to time in different ways and degrees (Adam, 1995). The temporalities of migration, including student mobility, have increasingly been recognised as heterogeneous and dynamic (Cwerner, 2001; Robertson, 2015). Though we might draw distinctions between such different ‘times’, they bear upon individuals simultaneously, converging in multiple complex ways and incorporating a multiplicity of futures, presents and pasts (Harney, 2014; Shubin, 2015). In Isaac’s case, for example, it is not just engagement with ‘Indonesian time’ that is significant, but the inclination towards keeping a busy schedule inscribed in his habitus, as well as a greater amount of ‘free’ time available to him in-country. This perceived increase in free time was key to several of his pedagogic routines, including journal writing and interacting with local people. He even linked this to his decision to buy an unreliable motorbike, saying, ‘That was part of the plan as well…intentionally buying like an…annoying vehicle…because I have unlimited time here, so if stuff takes a long time, it’s kind of fine, whereas in Australia, if you have the same experience, it’s annoying’. Isaac related several times when this ‘annoying vehicle’ afforded opportunities for greater interaction with locals, including breaking down in remote places, negotiating with parts suppliers, and spending time with his housemates addressing maintenance issues. His pedagogic orientation, then, coupled with this ‘unlimited time’, made for a powerful utilisation of pedagogic opportunities.

Isaac’s time in-country, however, was not truly ‘unlimited’. He still had the same number of hours in the day, and his stay in Indonesia was temporally bound by both the program and visa conditions. What he was referring to, as did several others, was the increased amount of ‘free’ time in-country. This was largely related to fewer commitments compared to their lives in Australia (e.g., work, family relationships, domestic chores). Therefore, this is not a direct result of ‘Indonesian time’, but rather a consequence of the study-abroad experience itself. This greater sense of ‘freedom’ was experienced by participants in varying ways and degrees. Contrasting her routines in Yogyakarta and Australia, Caitlin said, ‘I have so much free time’, but added that you can ‘go crazy from the amount of free time that you have’. Similarly, Mel, also a FLIP student, commented, ‘I enjoy the freedom of it...but I’m also a person who does need a bit of structure’. Inserting a degree of structure into their time in-country is one way that participants sought to establish, or maintain, a sense of ontological security. For example, Nicole, a FLIP student, said that her routines helped her to manage challenges in-country, by affording a sense of control over her time. Seeing herself as someone who works more efficiently at a faster pace, she said, ‘I just choose to pack in a lot of stuff in my day’, adding that this helped to mitigate feelings of ‘missing Australia’, or not being ‘in a good head space’. Like Isaac, Eric linked having more free time to routines which he considered pedagogically valuable, such as walking, saying, ‘Because I’m not working here…and I have every afternoon free...I have that freedom to kind of wander’. Eric understood time as a resource which could be invested in the pursuit of developing intercultural capacities: time spent watching and observing, time spent chatting with fellow customers and vendors at street-food stalls – even time waiting for buses, which brought about opportunities for interactions with locals. A contrast can be drawn here with Alison’s temporal orientation to the in-country experience, where time without a specific focus was viewed as time wasted.

Participants’ orientations to the temporal boundaries of the in-country experience represent another relation to time in this context. It was interesting to note participants’ diverse interpretations of the amount of time spent in Indonesia. Was one semester understood as a short or a long period of time? Isaac’s orientation to the pedagogic dimensions of the experience evolved while in Yogyakarta, prompted by realising the learning potential of time in-country. He reflected, ‘I saw how quickly I was able to progress by not putting in too much effort here...and I was like, “Damn. I’m here for 6 months. I might as well make the most of it”’. Others also expressed a desire to effectively utilise their time in-country, including Mel, who said, ‘At this point in the semester, it’s like… “Well, I’m...halfway through. I’ve got this amount of time left. I’ve got to make the most of it”’. Around halfway through the semester, Caitlin was also contemplating the temporal boundaries of the experience:

I really wish I could stay the whole 12 months...‘cause I feel like, in terms of language…I reckon by the time I go home I’ll just be starting to feel comfortable and…starting to actually be brave enough to use it…more often...so if I stayed the extra 6 months I think it would be really helpful in terms of language.

Several participants did, in fact, decide to stay on for a second semester. For some, this was always the plan, but for others it was time in-country that motivated them to extend their stay.

Participants’ perceptions of the length of the program are significant because they signal an intersection between temporality and pedagogy. Isaac, Mel, and Caitlin demonstrate an orientation towards embracing opportunities while in-country to ‘make the most’ of their time. Although Alison also perceived the semester as being a short time in some ways, this manifested in a different pedagogic orientation:

It’s probably proven to me that...if you’re going to really be into the lifestyle...even a few months is not...by the time you get organised...and obviously we’ve had our first stint and we’ve changed again...‘cause we were just getting into that whole uni...process...and then we started a new thing…So it’s like when you’re on holidays...you’re onto the next thing...and then you’ve got to get used to this one now...it’d be interesting to know of anyone…feels like they’ve immersed themselves...in that time.

Alison’s interpretation of the program length is indicative of her opinion that a semester is not enough time to ‘immerse’ oneself. Though others also acknowledged the limitations of what can be achieved in one semester, this perspective disposed Alison towards particular priorities and practices (such as a heavy reliance on Google Translate and resisting opportunities to improve her Indonesian language skills). Describing a conversation with a fellow participant who was considering extending her stay in Indonesia, further insights into Alison’s temporal perspective are revealed:

She [the other participant] was talking the other day and she said, ‘I’m really thinking of…staying over here longer…I just love it’, and I said, ‘Do you love it? Or, if you didn’t have home to go to...would you still love it?...Could you give up everything that Australia’s got...and be happy here?’

Adding that this is how she had ‘sort of equated stuff over the years’, she demonstrates a way of looking at the in-country experience in an ‘all or nothing’ manner. To Alison, the prospect of staying on longer equated to expressing a preference for Indonesia that involved a rejection of Australia. If one could not make a permanent home in a new place, it was seemingly not worth making an investment of time and energy to adapt to that place. Expectations around how length of stay have been viewed as fundamental to the investments made by temporary migrants (Cwerner, 2001), where the ‘immediate prospect of return discourages their making long-term commitments, economic, social and cultural, in their host country’ (Roberts, 1995: 63). This exemplifies one’s illusio, or interest in the game, which ‘gives “sense” (both meaning and direction) to existence by leading one to invest in a game and in its forth-coming’ (Bourdieu, 2000: 207). Such differing perceptions of time reflect not only the ‘functions conferred on it by the activities in progress’ (Bourdieu, 1977, 105), but also the stakes of those activities as perceived by participants. This raises interesting questions about the transitory nature of in-country education and the pedagogic opportunities it can – or cannot – offer. At least some of the answers to this question lie in deepening our understanding of how engagement in the temporal rhythms of the host country might act upon students.

Temporal rhythms in-country

Study abroad, as a form of transnational mobility, is understood to have varied tempos and rhythms (Robertson, 2015: 45), often involving a kind of ‘temporal foreignness’ for students (Collins and Shubin, 2017: 20). These are much more numerous and diverse than simply an engagement with ‘Indonesian time’, or individual responses to an increase in ‘free’ time. Time is always structured in various ways and at multiple scales, and the in-country experience is no exception to this. As indicated, the circumstances of studying abroad often (though not always) afford a greater degree of ‘free’ time, resulting in days, and nights, with a different temporal structure to when participants are at home. Importantly, these must be understood as embodied relations to time. Caitlin contrasted the structure of her day in Yogyakarta, compared to at home in Australia, noting that she stays up later, sleeps in more, and tries to find activities to fill her time. She commented on ‘counting down the seconds’ until she would go out for lunch and dinner, saying, ‘my day is structured…waiting for food’. Paige commented on the greater amount of socialising that occurs in Yogya, especially at night, and the ‘community feel’ that this generates. Similarly, Eric said:

In some ways I think Indonesia is better than Australia...it’s busy but it’s not go, go, go…and they still find time to sit around...and talk...they’re always talking...you walk along the streets at night, people are always out together…it’s just that...real, um, sense of community...no matter where you go, you’ll always find at night.

Eric’s temporal experience in Yogyakarta relates to a different pace of life, but also a different structuring of the day-night rhythm, where public spaces are used for socialising into the early hours of the morning. Both Paige and Eric expressed a preference for these aspects of the in-country experience over the temporal framing of their lives back in Australia, demonstrating an openness to recognising value in diverse cultural (and temporal) contexts.

For many participants, time was also structured in ways that reflect the majority Muslim population in Yogya. The ‘call to prayer’ could be heard virtually everywhere, punctuating the day in a way that was unfamiliar to the Australian students. Several mentioned the way this sound stood out to them initially but became ‘background noise’ after a time. Caitlin said:

The other day...when I was sitting studying…I heard the call to prayer going, and it was the afternoon, so it was like, ‘Oh, it’s three o’clock’…like, [I] knew the time, and so I didn’t even have to check, that’s kind of cool...that I’ve got to that point.

In this way, not only does the sound become more familiar, but begins to convey a meaning to Caitlin. Of course, it is not the same meaning that it carries for local Muslims, but nonetheless exemplifies a reconfiguration of temporal relations. Similarly, Eric said:

I only notice prayer calls if I’m next to a mosque…and I go, ‘Oh yeah, so it must be...this time’…it does give you some sense of the day…you know it’s around a certain time…and even like...you know on Fridays there’s an...extra prayer…it marks out the day.

Eric’s response indicates degrees of consciousness in reacting to the call to prayer, initially saying he no longer notices them, then clarifying that he has become familiar with their timing. The familiarity and attunement evident here are different to cognitive understandings about the call to prayer and its prevalence in Yogyakarta, which could be learned in an Australian classroom. The sensory experience of being in-country, over a period of time, produces an engagement with this aspect of culture in a way that cannot be simulated, or replicated, in Australia. Bodies, after all, are both spatial and temporal beings (Grosz, 2004: 4).The body is foregrounded through the notion of the habitus, since Bourdieu (2000, 141) states: ‘We learn bodily. The social order inscribes itself in bodies through this permanent confrontation, which may be more or less dramatic but is always largely marked by…affective transactions with the environment’. Though the bodily presence, and movement, within the temporal structures of Yogyakarta does not provoke the same response among all participants, it represents a significant opportunity for interculturalisation to occur.

The embodied nature of interculturalisation was also evident in other responses to the slower pace of life in Yogyakarta. The way students physically move through space is a potential source of pedagogic force, evident in an altered hexis of some participants while in-country. Hexis refers to a way of bearing the body, reflecting the way in which the social world is present in the body (Bourdieu, 2000: 144 and 152). Drawing on Mauss’ (1973) work on ‘techniques of the body’, Bourdieu (2000, 2004) explains that through characteristics such as our posture and gait, our bodies are ‘encultured’ in ways that contribute to our sense of orientation and belonging to a place (Rodaway, 1994; Wise, 2010). Walking pace is one way that embodied relations to temporality can be observed. For example, Nicole said, ‘I definitely find my walking pace decreases...when I’m in Indonesia’. She was not the only one to notice such a change, though it wasn’t a universal response among the participants. Reflecting her struggle with the slower pace of life, Alison said, ‘I still walk faster than everybody else’. Though a change in walking pace might not endure after returning to Australia, the adoption of a slower pace is indicative of an adaptation to place and time that allows outsiders to ‘fit in’ to a greater degree. Interculturalisation, therefore, is connected not just to a sense of place (e.g., feeling ‘out of place’, or ‘at home’), but to a sense of time. The practice of walking, for instance, allows students to acquire a range of things, such as opportunities for socialisation, increased familiarity of the area, as well as the acquisition of local rhythms of movement (Middleton, 2009; Noble, 2015). It is not, though, only a means of engaging in-country, but can also be read (by oneself and others) as a reflection of such an engagement. The progressive embodiment of rhythms and tempos in-country denotes a process of interculturalisation brought about by proximate engagement with alternate forms of temporality.

In considering how intercultural capacities might be cultivated in-country, relations between the habitus and time are central. The habitus is the ‘presence of the past in the present’, but it also ‘makes possible the presence in the present of the forth-coming’ (Bourdieu, 2000: 210). In other words, our habitus gives us a sense of the forth-coming, deeming certain outcomes ‘possible’, while others are considered ‘unthinkable’ (Atkinson, 2019: 954; Jenkins, 2002: 105). Though the metaphor of ‘the game’, Bourdieu (2000: 211–212) explains these relations:

The sense of the game is that sense of the forth-coming of the game, of what is to be done (‘it was the only thing to do’ or ‘he did what was needed’) in order to bring about the forth-coming state of the game that is visible there for a habitus predisposed to anticipate it, the sense of the history of the game, which is only acquired through experience of the game – which means that the imminence and pre-imminence of the forth-coming presuppose a disposition which is the product of the past.

This ‘feel for the game’ is the practical sense of the forth-coming which generates dispositions and actions that are consistent with what is appropriate in a given field, making action in the present possible (Atkinson, 2019: 954). In Bourdieu’s (1963: 62) words, the forth-coming ‘is the concrete horizon of the present’. But what happens when the habitus is confronted with circumstances that challenge notions of what is ‘thinkable’? Intercultural encounters allow the individual to consider alternative realities – ways of seeing, doing and thinking that were previously inconceivable (or at least, unrelatable). Engaging with diverse temporal rhythms in-country allow students to encounter different ways of structuring time that might open up new ways of seeing and inhabiting their worlds. As Bourdieu notes, a sense of the game ‘is only acquired through experience of the game’, explaining why experiences in-country have the potential to exert significant pedagogic force. Tran and Vu (2018: 199) note that for Australian students studying in Asia, time spent ‘immersed in the country’, can provide new experiences and proximity ‘necessary to enable the student to see “things so differently”’. There is a similarity here with what Hage (2015: 55) describes as the contribution of critical anthropology, which ‘works critically through a comparative act that constantly exposes us to the possibility of being other than what we are’. Though the in-country experience is not always navigated with the same degree of critical analysis described by Hage, it does contain the potential to awaken a sense that there are ways of being other than what we are – not just intellectually, but in ways that are temporal and embodied. Access to ‘alternative temporal structures’ (Xu, 2021: 21) through international student mobility, therefore, can play a pivotal role in shaping future trajectories and aspirations.

Conclusion

When we understand in-country education as situated not only in space, but in time, the how of interculturalisation becomes clearer. Though previous research on study abroad has attended to measuring intercultural development that occurs between the ‘before’ and ‘after’, I have examined how multiple temporal dimensions of the experience might interact with processes of interculturalisation. This analysis reveals the complex and multiple ways in which relations to time might act pedagogically upon participants. Study abroad imposes an engagement with different temporal frameworks, such as jam karet, which can act as a disruption to the habitus. This is not experienced to the same degree by all participants, since students bring various experiences and orientations to time with them into the experience. We have seen, though, that engaging with different temporal rhythms, frameworks, and tempos in-country can present significant pedagogic opportunities. Rather than experiencing such a disruption as an exception or an inconvenience, as tourists might, study-abroad students have the opportunity to engage with these temporal dimensions in a way that is sustained and embodied. Though experiences of temporal disjuncture have sometimes been characterised by migration researchers as negative, these can also generate possibilities for becoming different (Collins and Shubin, 2017: 21). As a result, it is possible for students to move beyond initial feelings of being ‘out of sync’ and develop routines, possibly even habits, that afford a greater degree of belonging. The pedagogic function, then, of engaging with diverse temporal relations in-country is to expand one’s repertoire of dispositions; not only through an opening up to new ‘possibles’, but also through allowing time to establish new responses and ways of being in the world.

Though this research examines the experiences of Australian students studying in Indonesia and the specific dimensions of temporality of this particular context, the analysis presented may also illuminate how time affects understandings of culture, and the development of intercultural capacities, in other contexts. Different study-abroad destinations, and students, would present alternate temporal settings and considerations which may not always be as clear as the ones discussed in this article. Future research could address the embodied temporal rhythms between cultural settings that appear more similar (Australian students studying in the United Kingdom, for example), which may be more subtle in expression. Furthermore, the insights presented here may inform our understandings of intercultural settings beyond study abroad that involve alternate embodied temporalities, such as tourism, migration, and indeed, everyday life in the highly diverse societies in which many of us now live.