Indonesia: Life In The Islands

Getting Used to Life Alone...

I must be right next to a mosque, because the call to prayer was in my ear this morning haha. After it woke me up I was able to go right back to sleep—it’s just the initial start of the singing that jolts me awake. It’s going to be impossible to sleep late here (a good thing!) because the streets and people get so loud by the windows. Students in Indonesia have school on Saturdays as well, so around 6:30 I started hearing them head off. Luckily AMINEF made it clear to our schools that in America, there is no school on Saturdays. So we have the whole weekend off whew.

Pak Tedy and Surharyadi had told me to be ready around 9 or 10 so we could go meet the leader of the neighborhood. Indonesian neighborhoods are divided into sections, with about forty homes in each one. I found out today that each section has a theme, and the streets are named after that one theme—for example, Layne’s theme is fish (haha) and the theme of my neighborhood is heroes. So my street is named Jalan Mayjen Woyono, who was an important military figure in Indonesian history (so I’ve been told). That little bit of knowledge made understanding directions a LOT easier.

Around 11 no one had showed up to take me anywhere (jam karet: rubber time) so Layne called and said her friend Win would take us to the Malang Town Center (Matos) to get some things for our houses. I thought I had been stared at a lot in Jakarta. Wow. Layne and I were blatantly looked at the entire time we were there (it didn’t help I broke a glass in the Hypermart). It isn’t glaring, or weird looks—people just honestly haven’t seen foreigners for a while, if ever, and want to see how we are different. If you smile, almost everyone smiles back immediately. If you make an effort to speak Indonesian and say selamat pagi, or good morning, they really appreciate it. Layne and I bought things like blowdryers, toaster ovens,and trash cans—every bit of electronic equipment I brought from the US is worthless here, even with a converter. The different voltages blow the fuses. Luckily my computer charger works, but that’s the only thing.

We ate lunch at Indonesian KFC (Win, like most Indonesians I’ve met, seems to think that fried chicken is an American girl’s best friend) and instead of biscuits, they serve rice. They also serve spaghetti and a strange soup. It was interesting, but a soda has never tasted as good as it did there. My ayam (chicken) was good too. It’s reassuring to know that KFC spells delicious in every culture.

I came back and unpacked, and then Suharyadi and Pak Tedy came over about 6 hours late. They never said anything, so maybe I misunderstood them the day before. We unpacked some more, they brought it a TV and a TV stand (even though I said I didn’t need it and it only gets about 10 channels, all in Indonesian or Javanese) and then I showed them my teaching books from the US. They were really happy and took them to be photocopied. There are no copyright laws here, and every book can be photocopied for about Rp 30,000, or $3. I copied a bunch of ETA’s books before we left Jakarta.

Suharyadi heard me talking about how I liked dogs, and he immediately offered to find me a puppy. One of the men from the school, Andi, who was there nailing mosquito net, or tirai, over the windows, said in Javanese that he could find one. Then my neighborhood, Bu Putu, walked by, and said that she had a puppy I could have. I went over and looked—this dog was hysterical. They said they had traveled to Surubaya, about two hours away, to buy it, but it looked like they had found it in the gutter. He was missing all the hair on his legs, and the hair on his body was long and matted. He was some sort of terrier, but I honestly couldn’t begin to guess. She offered the dog to me, but it was obviously the children’s dog! There are four children in the family—Eka, Made, Kiki, and Esa. Eka and Made have been coming over to my house to speak with me and practice their English—Made’s is very good. They are beautiful girls, with dark skin and long black hair. The Putu family is Balinese, which means they’re Hindu, not Muslim. The house I live in is actually rented from them by the school. Kiki is a six year old boy, and Esa is a beautiful baby with lots of jewelry. Brownies (the name of the dog) was Kiki’s, so of course I said I didn’t want to take him away. Andi is going to look for another puppy for me, and Ibu Putu said her family would take him when I went back to America. She asked me to help her learn English and if I wanted to go to their Balinese village next time they travel to Bali. Of course I said yes to both requests!

posted by Caitlin @ 6:43 PM