From Jambi, With Love November 13, 2008

well friends. this is it.  I am headed back to the states next monday.  unfortunately i was the victim of a senseless crime here in indonesia.  quite frankly it could happen anywhere.  however, the sheer horror of the event has left me traumatized so it is best for me to pack up and have the support of the people who love me. i can’t say whether or not i will return to indonesia.  do i want to? hell yeah. but we will see. i dont think i have it in me right now to make a committment either way. 

having been abroad since july, i feel like the things i have learned are not even remotely connected to what i thought i was going to learn. not only about the field of community development and policy advocacy. about myself, my life, what is important, what is superficial.  probably because i was fearing for my life last friday in the most real sense of what that means.

the relationships i have formed as a result of my involvement with VIA are life changing.  perhaps they will not always have the same vigor, but they will remain strong nonetheless.  the organization has been unbelievably supportive and caring.

being the victim of a crime in a city that rarely sees foreign visitors is a challenge unto itself.  i can  honestly say that the cultural differences have made this experience, particularly dealing with the police, awful.  the investigator who took my statement felt it was approporiate to take my cell phone number from my report. i have recieved 6 SMS messages from him so far. he wants me to go out on a date with him…he suggested the movies and lunch.  i feel like i am in some weird SNL skit. (although i wanted to tell him to FUCK OFF i decided it was best to say no thanks and ignore his messages).  a truely indonesian experience is what i came here for, right?

i felt as though i were a carnival attraction when i was at the police station.

there is alot to this situation. many layers of culutral clashes which make me wonder what it must really feel like to be an indonesian woman. it makes me wonder what it must feel like for the many immigrant and refugee women in the states who barely speak english.

its weird, like life makes decisions for you.  i struggled with what to do with myself after this happened. i thought about going home, moving to another city, hiding out in jakarta for a while. i was even offered the opportunity to move to singapore for a while to get my bearings and my head together.  i knew i couldnt stay in jambi. the jambi prescription for dealing with trauma is to forget about the crime. simple. just forget. i am fairly good at not dealing with my feelings and forgetting traumatic experiences from the past, but this time i had to pass on that remedy.  it hasnt worked out too well for me in the past.  they also throw in a pinch of blame to the victim to ease the sting. i couldnt get down with that.  and i know it is with the best intentions that they approach things as they do.

so i will see some of you soon, and some of you later. love, gillian

Mister! Mister! October 22, 2008

At some point, every bule should have a blog posting with this title. I know we all have our stories of Mister! Mister!  Today could be summed up in those two words.  I really enjoy Indonesia. Things that bother me, when I am bothered, (other than the overall homesickness I feel) are a result of my own insecurities.  I mean, of course they requested a volunteer so they could talk smack about her in her prescence in their native language!!  Its silly really, so I just try to remind myself of that. But occasionally, being the center of attention really annoys me.  Today is a prime example of this.

I wake up to see that the driver is already here and Mas Hambali is pacing outside.  I am very aggitated. It is only about 7am, nowhere near our normal time to leave. I throw on some clothes with full coverage and run across the street to see what is going on.  Luckily, Pita eases my worries. She is sitting on the floor slicing shallots. She looks up at me and I can tell that she can tell that I am in my semi-maniac panic that I typically get in when no one tells me we are leaving way earlier than normal. She assures me we aren’t leaving until 9am (YAY!) and goes back to her veggies.

This is great. I have plenty of time to do some Taebo, shower, relax, drink some tea, make one for the road, makan pagi (eat breakfast) and make my peanut butter and jam sandwich.  Promptly at 8:30, I head over to eat some grub.   Today Ibu was making soto ayam, so I had to pass on my usual cornflakes.  Typically I pass on the Indonesian food first thing in the morning. Something about jackfruit curries and fried salted fish at 8am doesn’t sit well with me. But soto ayam is as harmless as it is delicious. A simple soup, yellow in color, with green onion and noodles, chicken (ayam), fried shallots, sprouts, and other things that I don’t know what they are.  Nice way to remind yourself you are IN FACT living in Indonesian without feeling funky first thing in the morning.

Anyway, we leave at nine. We stop in the city to pick Nila up and go on our merry way. Little did I know that today was a shopping day.  We park the car and off we go…looking to buy what I believe was an automatic  coconut grater.  I listened as they bargained with the man. I love watching the market exchanges, so polite, but not really.  It took several shops before we found one that had just what we were looking for.  So of course, all this walking around attracted alot of attention to me. It is really weird to talk about, but it was sort of like (and I am in no way making a comparison..well…you decide) Madonna going to buy deotorant at 7-11 with her bodyguard and maybe her female manager or something. Everyone staring, maybe shouting, whispering. Thats what its like.  I always smile and say simple Indonesian phrases, to be polite and give off positive energy that translates into, “I am a nice, modest American girl, and no, I don’t think that just because you are Muslim you are a terrorist, and yes, I support Obama, and no, I don’t support George W”.  Not sure if they get my message fully, but I try.  But all the staring feels a little weird, especially because it is so hot out, that I am always sweating. I mean, I sport a sweat stash probably 85% of the time.  So I don’t exactly want to be looked at when I feel gross.  Plus, its just strange. But it was fine, tidak apa-apa right??

Our next stop was at another store. I am not sure how you would classify a store like this. It was set up like an outlet store for plates and flatware, glasses and corningware type stuff.  We spent quite a long time there!  They also had some gorgeous hand blown colorful glass vases, for about $6 each.

After this, we arrive at out destination, Mitra Aksi.  Today there we were hosting a training so there were many people there.  Also, because there was a training, we had no fan. AND IT WAS HOT!!!!!!!!!! So I decided to embark on an Indonesian pastime, the good old afternoon rest. Properly done, by laying on the couch in the office and taking a nap.  I have never done this before, but I thought, why not. They are always trying to get my to “take rest”, and today I really felt like I needed to “take rest”.  Nila left the room to have lunch and close the door. After she left I could hear all the participants asking her about me.  She gave them the quick rundown…from America, not married, 2 brothers, 1 sister…blah, blah.  She also told them I was resting and to not disturb me. Well, of course the minute she walked away they all came in. They couldn’t wait to speak with a native english speaking person. At first it was really fun, I was able to practice my Indonesian and give them a chance to practice their english. There was an English teacher (Indonesian) who wanted me to tell him how his English was. It was really good actually, I mean grammatically and everything.

This was fun for the first 2 hours.  After the first round of picture taking, I have to say I felt a little worn out.  But again, I really want to change the impression that Indonesians have of Americans. Many of them really thing that we think that they are terrorists.  And they are right.  Not Indonesians particularly, but Muslims.  Anyway…thats a conversation for another post.  The one woman, Annie was her name, continued to repeat to me that Indonesian men are not romantic and they have no money. Bitter???? She assured me American men are romantic and have lots of money. She then proceeded to tell some of the men around that I SAID Indonesian men are not romantic!!!! What!!!!!  I repeated, “Thats what she said!” and we all had a good laugh, but what a weird interaction.  Several invited me to come to their house, all wanted my phone number. Nila intercepted this one, thank god. You see, in Indonesia, at least in my experience, everyone wants your phone number.  Your ‘hp’ number (handphone). Its really strange at first to say no, I mean how often to do you tell otherwise very nice people that No, you don’t want them calling you??  But if I do, and I have, they will SMS you non-stop!! I mean, sweet older ladies, SMSing you goodnight, goodmorning…how was your day…what are you doing…etc. You get the idea. Its super weird so I usually act like I don’t have one.  But Nila bursted in and told them that SHE did not have the authority to give out my hp number, that was at the discretion of the director of the organization, and that no, he would not be giving anyone my number.  YAY!!!  The one lady tried to explain to Nila that her (Annie) and I are now very close dear friends.  So weird!! But all the while, I tried to remain sweet, smiling constantly.  Before I knew it, it was time to leave and I had gotten maybe 1 hour of work completed. Oh well.

The whole point in titling this post Mister! mister! was because in the morning,as I was walking down the street, that was shouted at me many times. In Indonesia, that is quite common, to call a woman Mister. Nila laughed as she heard it and made a joke about it to me.

Insight into a typical Indonesian situation. October 19, 2008

Today we have another event.  As is typical with these sorts of things, I am expected to participate (I think?) but have no clue as to who/what/when/where of it all.  Over breakfast, I ask Pita what is going on, what is the plan, etc. She tells me we leave at noon or eleven. I confirm that I should be ready to leave at eleven and she says yes. At five to eleven, I reconfirm that we are still in fact leaving at eleven. She says maybe.

:::::::I didn’t even make it to yesterday’s event for similar reasons:::::::::::::

Just how they roll in Indo…

In case you are overweight (meaning over 90 pounds) and want to either visit Indonesia for an extended period of time/live here. October 18, 2008

Well, as some of you may or may not know, I have been working out again. Yup, me and Billy Blanks rekindled are hot and steamy romance and things are going well.  I really enjoy it and I feel alot better. I was turning into quite the fatty while in school.  In addition to being good for my body, I find it is a great outlet for stress. Really great for my mental health, if ya know what I mean.  So I have shed a few pounds. It feels nice, I look better, etc.  So naturally, my pants have gotten bigger, therefore I need some new digs.  Today, Pita and I went to Mitra, a department store in Jambi City.  I think there were about 8 pairs of pants, total, in the store that even looked like they MIGHT fit. And then there were the 2 pairs that actually did fit. And then there were 2 that were too big. Now, lets not be ridiculous. I am not counting the Plus size (which are abt the equivalent to a US size 12) polyester. 70’s style pants that come up to right under your boobs that come in every color of the rainbow, most with some amount of elastic in the waist. I am not that desperate.  I even perused the men’s section. Just as depressing.  I really felt like shit after that.  Here I am thinking…wow…this working out stuff is great! And now all I want to do is drink a milkshake!! haha! However, I know that this is not indicative of anything substantial. Had I been born in Indonesia I would welcome the polyester!! So just a head up, if you are thinking about coming here for a while, and your waist is larger than about a 24, I would consider another country, or coming well stocked. So April…you are all set.

Durian party (Uncle Tom you are going to love this) October 18, 2008

So after the event, we went back to Bung Didi’s family’s house, which was walking distance from the event.  This was his family’s village.  Apparently, every Friday night, durian is free. I don’t know much about this tradition, other than that. So we had been at this event ALL DAY. I was covered in layers of sweat and the heat makes me SOOOO tired.  We were all about to leave, when Mas hambali noticed a couple people were missing from our group. He called them and found out they went to get some durian.  The whole group, as exhausted as everyone was, seemed to get excited about this news.  They all proceeded to ask me if I like durian, which at this point, I did not. If you don’t know what durian is, it is a big fruit, with prickly looking things on it. And it smells. I have been in places that actually have signs saying it is not permitted. Thats how bad it smells. I mean, it REALLY smells.

Soon they arrived with the durian. I was not able to try any at first because I was involved in a hardcore photo shoot with the local kids. I guess they heard that there was a bule on the premises, so I spent about 30-45mins posing for them. All with their camera phones. Kids as young as probably 3 taking pictures.  Sometimes they would pose with me.  It got kind of annoying after a while but I figured that it will probably be a while before they see one again, so I just went with the flow, laughing and posing and speaking my broken Indonesian, which kind of freaked them out.  I have included a picture of the kids below. And  yes, they were all taking pictures. Even the tiny ones.

After my photo shoot, it was durian time. It smelled so terrible, but I knew that refusing it would be a mortal sin. And not only that, I wanted to participate in this ritual.  I mean, thats why I am here right. So I tried it. The first piece wasn’t so good. It smelled and tasted as bad as it smelled. I was honest about this, and Mas Hambali found one he was sure I would enjoy, that was a better quality durian. He was right. It was sweet and mushy, and had a really weird aftertaste. But I jsut went with this flow too, and had a great time. Below are some pics for your viewing pleasure.

Next time you see durian…just do it.  Take a deep breath and (insert British accent) GET IN!!

Bule Masuk Kamping (foreigner in the village!!) October 18, 2008

It has been a long time since my last post.  Well, lets see, I took a holiday for about 9 days in that time, and have since been back to work for about a week.

I have had some revelations over the past 3 weeks since I have last written.

The first is that I am NEVER going to knowingly ingest artificial sweetner for as long as I live. I have been Splenda-free since leaving the states, and after using it again I could feel all the ’side effects’ they warn you about. Strange muscle pains, diarrhea, the feeling like growling rodents are running around inside my stomach. I am happy to make the move back to sugar.

The second is that I ABSOLUTELY love Philadelphia.  Yes, I am in the midst of the most extreme homesickness one could ever imagine. The upside is that I actually have a home, a place, family and friends that I miss dearly and am excited to go back to.  Although it sucks to feel homesick, it has made me appreciate all that is Philadelphia and has given me a break from my usual plotting around how to change my environment.

The third is that a year is a LONG ASS TIME!  Before I left, I think somehow I managed to tell myself that a year isn’t that long. Yeah, when you compare one single year to the 28 other years (yup, I will 29 when this is all over) it is not that long. But while you are in it, well thats an entirely different story.  I don’t want to sound like I am complaining or whining. All of the things I am feeling and thinking are incredible learning opportunities for myself.   I am fairly confident that this is part of the journey.

So lets see, what’s new?? Well, as I mentioned I have been homesick.  This week I was for real sick, completely due to the fact that I used Splenda, I mean the sweet chlorine substance they market as Splenda.  I missed a day of work and I think it was exactly what I needed to get through the really low part of my sadness. I stayed in bed all day and started watching the show Weeds (I think it is from Showtime??). Very funny, highly recommend it (unless you are prone to drug dealing-this show makes it look really easy).  Ibu was really sweet and took care of me, giving me specific instructions about what to eat and drink, even made her son go to the pharmacy and buy me medicine.  This made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, which I think I needed.

The work aspect of my week was interesting. I have been repeatedly told that after Ramadam I will be given work and my schedule, etc.  This was not the case, so I had to initiate the talk. All that really got figured out was that I will be in one place M and T, and another W,Th, and F, and will be teaching six times per week. Not the news I was looking for, but I will make it work.  I have a feeling alot of my duties with involve sitting at a desk, writing and whatnot, so I think the teaching will break things up a bit-add a lil spice to my wee

Here are some pictures from an event I attended yesterday. It was a MDG event, with 20 doctors available to treat the poor community members for free, provide them with free meds, etc. It was great.  There was a live band, playing Islamic music (i forget what its called… i should have written it down). the one woman kept trying to get me to dance in a sexy way, it was really weird. She was sort of shaking her boobs around at me, trying to motion to me that I should dance like that. It was really freaking me out, so I just sort of acted like I didn’t understand what she wanted from me.  But the event overall was a huge success.  I met many people, including the doctors. It was really funny, these people had really NEVER seen a foreigner. I mean, when I say I was being stared at, I mean blatant, full on staring.

There was a point when the Vice-Mayor of the village was giving a little speech. He was thanking people and acknowledging different contributors to the event. Well, I guess he announced me, because all of my friends were telling me to stand. So, I stand. I didn’t think I was standing that long, but I guess I was because he (in English!!) said, Please sit down.  It was so embarrassing and fun at the same time.  This also attracted even more attention to me, for anyone who had not yet seen the bule (literally  means albino…from colonial days. now it means foreigner, a white foreigner). 

the first picture is me with my friends/co-workers in the car on our way to the event. I had no cllue it was a 2 hour ride, I thought it was 15 minutes away. So of course I drank tons of water before and some sweet tea on the way. (Yes, sweet tea. Its my new fave.) We are showing off our new bracelets…in honor of ridding the world of poverty. The rest are just random shots from where I was sitting.  You will notice one picture where the sky is evenly divided, dark clouds and regular sky. Yes, it is rainy season, and yes, I was wearing cashmere. Every day at abt 3 it rains, usually pretty heavily. So I could add to my ‘learning’ in the past week that both my cashmere sweater and my leather moccasins are inappropriate for this season. As I mentioned, I was like a superstar at this event. You will notice there is a picture with me and a bunch of men. This is quite common for people to want either their picture with me or just of me.  I like to get some shots of these as well, when they happen. Its funny, too, that I was being photgraphed so much and had so much attention on me. It was sooo hot, I was wearing cashmere and I was covered in sweat. Hardly looking like a superstar.  Fun times, nonethless.

I ATE COW HEART!!! September 20, 2008

So I did it. I ate cow heart tonight.  Ok, I only had one piece, but still…I have been having some issues with food lately. Honestly, I have been getting really grossed out with certain things, such as chicken feet and unidentified pieces of meat/bone/cartilage/who knows what.  I even wrote an email to my country rep (Nathan) about it. Even considered lying and saying I was vegetarian so that the possibility of Ibu putting some random bit of food on my place were less likely. Nathan wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but I was feeling desperate.  I think just opening up about it helped. I am not going to eat the chicken feet, but I think I am feeling a little bit better about the idea that it may  be on the table.  So, tonight, after Ibu put about 5 little hard boiled bird eggs on my plate (which is also strange because I am picturing pigeon eggs or something) she then points to what looks like chunks of beef jerky and tells me it is cow heart.  I felt fairly couragious. I don’t know why, maybe because I accomplished alot of school work today, maybe it is my new workout routine, whatever it was prompted me to grab a chunk and dig in.  It even tasted like beef jerky. Well, sort of. Sort of a chalky texture, but jerky-esque nonetheless. I decided tomorrow I am going to participate in the ritual of cooking.  I haven’t yet, I never feel like it on my day off.  But I decided that it is an important part of this experience, especially the food experience.

Last night I went out to dinner with about 7 other friends from work.  The most fun one can have while not really understanding what is going on!  There was a live band playing in the middle of the restaurant so it was fairly difficult to understand what everyone was saying. Oh, and they were speaking indonesian, so that made it a little hard too.  It was really funny, the band played a Frank Sinatra song…damn! I can’t remember which it was, but let me just say that it sounded like Guns n Roses do Sinatra. It was great!! My friend Sumi was trying to make me sing, which was hysterical because it wasn’t karaoke, it was a live band in the middle of a restaurant. At least Kareem gives you the words. The food was incredible, ikan bakar (baked fish) that was just to die for! Other foods included green vegetables I can’t remember the Indonesian name for…papaya leaves with garlic and chilies, little steamed clams, again I don’t remember the name, some curried vegetables and es buah to drink, which is a drink of fruit in a milky liquid. I wanted to take pictures of the food but it didn’t’ work out.  Mmmmm.

Something so interesting about this experience. Well, first of all, you have to remember that the people I was with had not eaten since about 4am.  They were soooo hungry. And, they could not actually eat or drink anything until about 6:05pm.  But…the waiter brought the fruity drinks out at about 5:30pm.  I was even tempted and I had been drinking water all day, even had an apple at about 4pm.  There was even fish on the table, rice, sambal, they were so funny too, just making jokes about how hungry they were, the guys pretending to take a sip and to make everyone laugh. I just remember at Maggiano’s, god forbid the  fifth salmon refire took more than 10 minutes, customers want your job!  And then, once you can drink..”sudah”, everyone drinks water, then moves onto their fruity bev of choice. They don’t dig into the food…And then, they pray.  Everyone sort of disappears and preys (a few stayed back with me, I think so I wasn’t sitting there alone).  Once some came back, the others went to pray.  Which meant that this last crew of praying folk held up the eating, and no one minded at all. It was so sweet, how everyone just waited for each other.  It was really nice.

On the way home, I was riding on the back of my friend’s motorbike, and as I watched everything whiz by, I started feeling a little familiar.  I started recognizing some of the shops, the route we took was a little different than normal (anyone who knows me should know I never know where I am!) and as the warm breeze blew on my face, I felt a little more connected to this place called Jambi than I had yesterday. Which I need.

Ok, below are a couple pics of a couple of us before everyone arrived for dinner!

Rubber time and chocolate wafers September 19, 2008

Well, hello there.  Its been a while, huh?  Today was quite a day.  I went to a meeting “pertemuan” about the Millennium Development Goals.  It was a fairly big deal.  I met the UNDP Project Coordinator for Jambi Province, in addition to other people on her team. Of course, I was unable to fully participate because I did not understand all that was going on (language barrier..haha!).  But, nonetheless (is that one word?) it was a great experience. People from South Sumatra, West Sumatra, Java and Kalimantan attended, in addition to many local NGO representatives from Jambi.  Although I could not understand many of their words, I could understand their passion.  When the participants spoke, although I could not understand most of their words, I could understand their tone and body language. There was a sense of urgency about the issues facing their communities.

We left the house about 7:30 am. Wait, no, it was 7:27 am, I know this because this is why I was unable to eat my breakfast. So you can imagine how thrilled I was about this, because I know that I will not be seeing the light of food until 6:05pm.  We pile into the SUV and head to the hotel to pick up some folks, the UNDP woman, Karlina, and some others whose names escape me.  We all start chatting as we head to the airport, to pick up another person, because why not pile 10 people into a vehicle that only fits about 8? Why, you ask…that’s just how they roll in Asia.  And of course the person we are picking up at the airport is a fairly large man, not a tiny Indonesian woman. The best part about Indonesians is that they are laughing about this to his face..haha!! I love it!

Off we go, embarking on our hour plus ride to Mauro Jambi…whatever that is I am thinking.  I am starving and thirsty, and I am not going to be rude by whipping out my bottle of water, especially in these tight quarters. And then, once again, baby j has my back, and Karlina whips out her bottled water…and her box of chocolate wafers. She tells me she is not fasting, I say neither am I!! And we share a laugh. And then we share some wafers!! Oh man, this is my lucky day.

We arrive at the meeting place at about 9 am, I think. We head inside, set up computers, LCDs, mics, and whatnot.  It is now close to 10, hmmm…what is going on? The meeting, which includes the “wakil bupati” (2nd after the governor…well the ‘vice’ 2nd to the gov), seems to be a pretty big deal. I am shocked that is has not started. The invitation is for 9am.  Then the woman who works at the clinic (whose name also escapes me…), seated in front of me, leans back to talk to me about the start time. She explains that this is an example of Indonesian “rubber time”. This is when the invitation says a certaing time (for example, 9am), but the event doesn’t start for an hour, maybe two, maybe 3.  She explains that we are waiting for the “wakil bupati”. The meeting can not begin until we know if he is coming. I am thinking to myself…’we don’t even know if he is coming?’.  She then proceeds to explain that it is possible that when he recieved the invitation, yesterday, he may have had other appointments and/or engagements.  This is an interesting concept to me, we invite the important government head the day before the meeting. Ok. I guess.  Of course, about 30 mins later, he arrives so all is well. But back to rubber time, she explains that this is a part of Indonesian culture, and while she is not a fan, it is a way of life.  Also to be noted is that because it is Ramadan, there are no refreshments to keep people occupied.   So rubber time, you say. I have heard about it, even experienced it in less formal settings. I think I felt it more strongly this time because I perceived this meeting to be so important.

They must be talking about some interesting stuff here, I am thinking. I had my dictionary, so I was able to get the gist of the powerpoint slides…well, some of them. It was funny, though. You know how when you are in an important meeting, one where you are not presenting, your mind wanders. You realize this, and then quickly get your head back in the game. Well this would happen to me, often in fact, and i would regroup and get really confused, not realizing right away they are speaking another language. I am probably making myself sound like a complete idiot, but it happened.

******About halfway through, Karlina handed me the wafers….perfect timing!************

I had the opportunity to observe some Indonesian behavior while in this meeting.  It is hard to adjust to some of them…see for yourself:

-don’t feel like you have to silence your cell phone. In fact, please don’t bother. And make sure your ring tone is a pop song, and is as loud as possible

-And then…when you answer it, don’t bother leaving the room. Just answer in the middle of the meeting, its no problem

-While people are presenting, even if you are on the stage, a part of the current panel, do not feel like you need to stop talking. In fact, talk amongst  yourselves. Visibly. Don’t be discreet about it.

-If you are curious about the current headlines in the newspaper, don’t be shy. Read the paper. The whole thing. And again, don’t be discreet about it, just read the thing openly while people are presenting.

The most interesting thing that happened, well not interesting, just shockingly unbelievable was that the laptop used to present the presentation was not plugged in. Which meant, halfway through the computer lost power.

I hope this doesn’t sound awful of me, I love all these people. It is interesting to observe the cultural differences. Clearly, they were not being rude because no one was offended. Below are some pics from the event.

making a friend September 14, 2008

I had a really nice day yesterday with myy new friend, Sumi. She is the director of SIKOK, one of the orgs I am going to be working with.  She is 31, unmarried, and seems very smart and interesting. SIKOK is an organization that focuses on sexual and reproductive health education advocacy, and also runs an education program in 12 schools that teaches sexual and repro. health. I don’t know too much yet, as I am still waiting until after Lebaran to start working there. We went to the market, I needed some random stuff, bug repellent, toilet paper, tape, Skype headphones.  It was fun, her English is good, so we decided to ‘barter’ language practice. She even offered to ‘teach’ me the verb suffixes/prefixes and other things I may not pick up right away.  I think she is pretty bad ass. She isn’t married, which I think at her age is kind of a big deal here. She doesn’t really seem to care. We rode around the city doing errands, and then it started to rain. Heavily. And of course, why would I carry a poncho during rainy season. That would make sense. So we had along break in our errands, just standing under and overhang, chatting about boyfriends and siblings.

After our errands we stopped at her friends house. I didn’t catch her name.  She was fully covered in a beautiful white veil and full body covering prayer outfit…I have no idea what they are called.  Her house was green, sort of like mine, and the entire front room of the house was painted the same exact color green.  Originally, the plan was that Sumi was going to take me to the hospital to have a consult with the doctor, because I need the hep. A immunization. I really dropped the ball with that one.  The appointment was not until later in the evening so we decided to reschedule to appointment for Monday, which freed up the rest of our day.  We went back to Sumi’s house, which is not finished, she says. The finishing touches are still being worked on.  But it was beautiful. You know what i find interesting about homes in Indonesia? It is not common for people to have furniture in the room where they watch television. They may have gorgeous furniture, benches, chairs, etc, in rooms where no one really ever sits. And the room that everyone uses all the time is empty, and everyone sits on the floor. I don’t get it. I know it gets hot, so you don’t want to relaxing on leather, but not even a chair? It seems so strange to me. And awfully uncomfortable. Although, Indonesians probably aren’t bothered by it. It is not uncommon to see 70+ year old people pushing barrels of heavy things…god knows what…up a huge hill. So I guess at the end of a long day pushing barrels and carrying sticks, or whatever else it going on, sitting on the floor isn’t that big of a problem.  And in America, after a long day of sitting in a cushioned, ergonomic chair, staring at a computer all day, the though of sitting on the floor is troubling at best. Ok. I get it.

I ate dinner at Sumi’s, full of fried bananas, green beans, chilis, fish and potato. And of course, rice.  We ate, hung out a talked more about her travels, language, work, lots of stuff. And then her family came over. Banyak orang. Lots of people, I wasn’t quite sure who was who.  People love their families here. I mean, not only love them, but really care for them. Sumi’s parents live with her, she cooks and cleans and takes care of them, in addition to working full time. And doesn’t appear visibly resentful about it.  Something in Indonesia that is a little hard to get used to but also really sweet, warm and fuzzy, and fairly common in Asian culture, is this concept of a collective good. Everyone is family, your neighbors are your family. You do what is best for the collective good, not what is best for you. And when I say it takes getting used to, I don’t mean it is taking time for me to start making choices based on the collective good of my new ‘family’, I just mean getting used to that being the mentality.

As I mentioned before, I got my SKYPE!! headphones, so if anyone wants a call from me…well then i suggest you send me your phone number, cause i like it when you speak english to me baby!! i think i was on skpye last night for 5 hours. it was great, and also sad a the same time. I MISS MY PEEPS…so start saving!!

MOST IMPORTANT PIC! lenovo 410 baby! September 12, 2008

Here she is…my new lenovo. (this is my desk at mitra aksi for now).