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.
