A Delicious Salad Part II
1. The dry season is ending in East Java and the rainy season should (hopefully) be starting soon. I know Malang is supposed to be “cool,” but it has been ridiculously hot here lately. I used to only sweat profusely in the middle of the day, but now every second I’m awake (and, I suspect, asleep) I’m covered in sweat. It has to be at least 90 degrees most of the day, probably closer to 95 at noon. I can only imagine what the “hot” cities like Jakarta and Surabaya are like!
2. So from what I’ve picked up, Ramadan is a holy time when Muslims come together to celebrate their shared faith. That being said, it seemed a little ironic that on the cover of the Jakarta Post today the headline was: “Crime ‘on the rise’ ahead of Idul Fitri” (that was also the way it was punctuated and capitalized). The first sentence reads: “A criminologist warns Jakarta’s crime rate will rise in the third week of Ramadan, when people need money to spend on Idol Fitri feasts.” So let me get this straight—to celebrate the end of the month where they’re celebrating their shared faith, people are going to steal from one another to have giant individual parties? Weird.
3. This week I’ve been proctoring mid-term exams for the students. I was under the impression that I could read magazines and listen to my ipod, but apparently you’re supposed to actually WATCH the students the whole time. Who knew. So, I was dutifully staring at a grade 12 class on Monday when I noticed that most of them were staring at me instead of their tests. I don’t teach year 12, so I guess my shine is still pretty strong for them. When I would look to the right, the kids in the middle and left would stare; when I turned, they looked back down at their papers. They were really fascinated by what I was doing—and who can blame them. For three hours, I: picked my nails, braided my hair, sent text messages, and created fans out of scrap paper. Pretty good stuff.
4. After proctoring yesterday, I was hanging around the school with nothing to do—because apparently now I’m on vacation again for 6 days. Pak Tedy stumbled upon me and decided we should go buy a motorcycle. I didn’t have any money, but that was OK—we got into his car, drove to the Honda dealership, and now I am the proud owner of a brand new, red, white and blue Honda Suprafit. I also have a pretty serious helmet, windbreaker, and gloves that all say Honda. Today I had my first official lesson from the school, which consisted of: getting on the motorcycle, turning it on, putting the kickstand down, and turning it off. I’m really good at pressing the ignition button and turning the bike on—I suspect I’m going to be a biker chick in no time.
5. Pak Tedy seems determined to find me a Javanese boyfriend and since I’m pretty sure the language barrier is going to prevent that from happening, I play along. He was really excited about a prospect the other day:
PT: Caitlin, my friend who is very handsome wants to meet you.
Me: Hmm, OK, what does he do?
PT: Yes.
Me: That wasn’t a yes or no question…umurnya? (How old is he?)
PT: 35.
Me: Um, what? I don’t want a 35 year old pacar (boyfriend/girlfriend).
Suharyadi: No, it’s OK. Younger women marry older men here.
Me: Yeah, I’m not really into that. What would we have in common?
S: You could get married.
Me: OK true, we could have that in common. What does he look like?
PT: He has brown skin and a mustache.
Me: Gross, no mustaches. I hate them.
They stare at me and I belatedly realize they both have mustaches.
Me: I mean, for a boyfriend…they’re really cool in general. I wish I had a mustache.
Everyone smiles.
PT: So you want to meet him?
Me: Umm…munkin nanti (maybe later).
Later in the same discussion I said I wanted to be an istri muda (young bride), and everyone in the office laughed. Turns out that istri muda here means the second wife a man takes after his first has given birth to all his children. She’s usually younger than me, capped around 21. Suharyadi kindly informed me I could not really be an istri muda anymore. Oh damn, and I had my heart set on marrying a man twice my age who already has a wife and four kids. Better think of plan B.
6. I have a confession to make: sometimes I listen to Islamic prayer music by myself in my house…and I sing along. My favorite song is called “Thank You Allah,” by Raihan. It’s a hot track. In my itunes, Raihan comes right after R. Kelly, “Bump N’Grind.” It’s an interesting transistion.
7. CULTURE SHOCK ALERT:
Indonesian KFC does not have biscuits
Indonesian McDonald’s does not have Sweet n’ Sour sauce
1 Comments:
Three things:
First, Semarang is one of those "hot" cities. I think I'm going to DIE. Seriously. I don't know how they take it. Especially in the unairconditioned classrooms--I stumble out of those after teaching like a shellshocked soldier or trauma victim or something. Everyone says it will get better...two months from now. I'm not sure I can take it that much longer.
Second, I also love that Islamic prayer music. I don't have any in my house (yet), so instead I hum along in the mall. I'm a loser.
Third, you're hilarious. My teachers are also trying to set me up with people. I figure, hey, free Indonesian practice, and play along. My current flame lives in Sumatra. I'm not sure what good that's going to do anyone, but whatever. SMSing him gives me something to do between classes.
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