Jeepers Creepers

Living in Indonesia is often like being an albino goldfish in a crowded tank of my amber-hued brethren...bottom line, I stick out like a prostitute in a convent. Often referred to as my "celebrity status" my ability to be recognized as a foreigner can be both a curse and an honor. In just the past week I have guest taught at three different English courses, one for high school, one for a mix of elementary and middle school, and one for teachers. The grapevine here in Pekanbaru is strong and while I was asked to teach two of the courses for fellow teachers, the last was an invitation by a woman I had never met. Along with these English courses, my voice was also immortalized for a listening section of an examination to be given in all of the vocational high schools in Pekanbaru. I felt more than a little cool as I was ushered into a sound booth (albeit an Indonesian sound booth that looked like it had been built in 1982 and smelled of stale cigarettes even though a large sign pronounced "No Smoking") and seated in front of a microphone behind a large glass window. Slowly and clearly I read a  sometimes-grammatically-incorrect script while my fellow teacher nodded in approval from the other side each time I repeated "mark your answer on your answer sheet." Afterward I was praised for my accent and what could I say? I'm a natural.

Along with the honors of being a foreigner come the curses...or should I say creepers. For a reason unknown to me Indonesians do not understand creepiness, and I constantly find myself disregarding all of the "stranger danger" training I had as a child to make excuses for the men who ask for my phone number or stop me to chat- it's cultural right? Last Monday was one of my favorite encounters of this kind. While on my daily run a small red sedan slowed next to me and the open window revealed a beaming Muslim couple. Usually when this sort of thing happens (and it's happened before) I can answer the simple "Where are you from?" and be on my way; but, the man behind the wheel of this car was a little more curious than the average Indonesian. After about a ten minute interrogation session on the side of a busy road which revealed my height, weight, and that yes I do like bakso (meatball soup), but not for breakfast-he was satisfied and left me with a "Happy Valentine's Day" as they pulled away. Yesterday while running I heard something over my music and turned to find a teenage boy keeping pace with me. The adrenaline that the scare of this new addition to my run pumped through me elicited a "Jesus f*%!ing Christ!" (so much for that whole ambassador thing) while he laughed and continued to keep pace. This boy, a twelfth-grade student at a local high school, had started running with me in January but I hadn't seen him since returning from my mid-year conference. After recovering from my shock he told me in his halting English that he had been following me and then promptly asked if he could come to my home. After giving him the vague answer of maybe sometime in the future, he told me that he would wait for me everyday and asked if I would like a ride home. After refusing twice and telling him that I needed to go home he left me to retrieve his motorcycle, but no sooner had I rounded a corner than he was there waiting for me and drove along side me for a few minutes before speeding off. A similar situation occurred during a bike ride in which a guy, with his girlfriend on the back, drove his motorcycle in pace with my bicycle in order to talk to me. When faced with these situations I have learned to laugh, it's one of those things that is truly Indonesia and I don't think I could avoid it if I tried. I just hope that I remember my "stranger danger" training upon my return to the states- I doubt that strange men at home will want nothing more than to practice their English.

A Sure Thing

 Most things in Indonesia are uncertain- electricity and running water are often mati (off/not working), classes are often cancelled on a whim, and flights are more often than not, late- but the one sure thing in Indonesia is that behind every corner lurks an eager Indonesian with a camera phone ready to shoot the unsuspecting buleh. I've been photographed in the most unimaginable places- on the side of the road while running, on a gangway into an airplane, while waiting in the airport, in front of a monument in Bali, and yes, even while I've been teaching. My most favorite photo shoot occurred while visiting Bukit Tinggi in West Sumatra- a young mother thrust her baby into my arms and then proceeded to photograph us with various members of her family. I sometimes wonder just how many photos I've been in since arriving in Indonesia and I can only imagine that numerous family albums contain photographs of an unidentified female buleh. It makes me laugh to think of all of the children who have been shoved at me for a photo, like the baby in Bukit Tinggi, who will look back on their childhood photographs only to ask "Mom, who's this white lady in the picture with me?." So it was no surprise that after only three days in Indonesia grainy photographs of my Mom and sister appeared on facebook compliments of my students and their ever ready camera phones.

My Mom and sister's Indonesian adventure was the fastest ten days of my experience thus far and filled with a plethora of emotions. They arrived exhausted and overwhelmed by the stark contrast between the first and third worlds. Those first few days were stressful to say the least as they tried to assimilate into Indonesian culture and recover from their 24 hour flight, and I tried to make them as comfortable as possible while protecting them from some of the rawness of this country. They were troopers though and happily (at least on the outside) endured a day at my school where they had various foods pushed at them and were photographed at least a hundred times, a lunch at the home of one of my Ibus, and a bumpy flight to Bali. Our time spent in Bali was much more relaxing since the westernization of the island as a tourist destination allowed them such comforts as a gorgeous beach side resort with pristine pools and a western breakfast buffet; restaurants that served food sans chile; and a little anonymity with other white-skinned, pointy-nosed people abounding. We lounged by the beach and pools; perfected the art of bargain shopping; took in some cultural dances and art; played cards; caught up; and overall just enjoyed being together. Our parting on Thursday was tearful and left me feeling a little empty; but, I am more than grateful that they braved the long journey and distant lands. As I write they are probably picking up their luggage from the carousel in BWI airport- happy to be home. Like being photographed in Indonesia my family is always a sure thing and I hope that they are as glad as I am that they made the long trek for such a short visit.

The three of us inside a 1,000 year old Hindu Temple.

  

An Indonesian Welcome

After returning home from the conference I had one of those weeks that required an "oh, Indonesia" while shaking my head in defeat. My first night home the plastic chair off of my front porch was stolen- not while I was gone for an entire week- but the night after I returned. After missing it for the day I walked down to my neighbor's house to find it comfortably situated on his front porch (note: we've had issues with chair ownership since I moved in). The next morning I woke to find a rat's head and entrails on my front porch next to the chair that I had stolen back- (I'm taking this as a sign that I've been accepted by the cat community). When trying to clean up the entrails I realized that my water pump had stopped working and thus, I had no water. With an hour before I needed to be to school and sweaty from my morning run, I unabashedly took my plastic mop bucket to the spigot on the building in front of mine and stole a bucket of water to shower with. The next day I received  a call from AMINEF to say that the head of the Asian Fulbright commission was coming to Pekanbaru to visit on the same weekend that my Mom and sister were to arrive, and would I mind changing my plans to show him around? On top of it all monsoons descended upon Pekanbaru and it rained unceasingly all week.

Today my Mom and sister are scheduled to arrive in Pekanbaru in one hour. My chair has stayed in place, my water pump has decided to work again, and I wrote to AMINEF that there was no way I would miss time with my family no matter who was coming to visit. Brian has good naturedly agreed to rubbing elbows without me. Unfortunately with all of the rain the laundry that I dropped off on Friday with all of my towels and sheets was not dry when I went to pick it up today. I sure hope that my Mom and sister don't mind sharing for awhile. Having experienced life here it seems too fitting- welcome to Indonesia Mom and Cybbie!

I swear that I'm here to teach...

I'm sure that you're all getting tired of my blog posts highlighting some gorgeous island in Indonesia where I hung out with my friends and thinking to yourselves "Didn't she go there to teach English?" and I swear I've been teaching... a little anyway.

A week and a half after returning from my month long teaching hiatus, I found myself once more walking across the tarmac of the Pekanbaru airport, suitcase trailing behind me. This time however I was with Brian and neither of us had paid for our flights- we were headed to the ETA mid-year conference and this trip was on AMINEF. The ETA reunion began in the Jakarta airport, where our inevitable lay over made our paths cross with those of about ten other ETA's all bound for Surabaya. Once in Surabaya AMINEF spared no expense, putting us up in a five-star hotel for our two day outreach program with local schools. After successful programs with schools around Surabaya and sufficient discussions on teaching and practices with the English Language Fellows (the big brother to the ETA program), all forty-four of us were once again loaded onto coach buses bound for the airport. After taking over the Starbucks during our routine flight delay, we finally boarded a plane to the island of Lombok- Bali's more beautiful and less hyped neighbor. Here we continued our mid-year conference at the Sheraton resort- discussing the ETA handbook for future ETA's, changes AMINEF could make to improve the program, the WORDS competition, an English competition for our students, and generally trying to finish before lunch so that we could enjoy the lavish pool and dual happy hours offered by the Sheraton.

By Friday our mid-year duties were completed and most of us opted to stay in Lombok for a weekend in Kuta- a two hour drive to the south. The white sand beaches, turquoise water, and breathtaking rock formations made this small town look like something out of Avatar- it's the most beautiful place I have seen thus far. I went surfing with some of the other ETA's- we took a boat out to a break in the middle of the ocean- and while the waves were awesome I opted to sit on my board and take in the gorgeous scenery around me after getting thoroughly abused by the somewhat scary swells. We rented motor bikes and it seemed like we could go no where without coming across a stretch of undisturbed white sand beach- deserted except for a few local kids.

This Tuesday my Mom and sister will come to Pekanbaru, and after spending a few days showing them my school and the sights of the city we will head to Bali. I have been teaching for a week and I swear that I will begin teaching again after this one last vacation...as the Indonesians say "satu lage"- just once more...

Bali Hai: Part Two of My Three Week Vacation

One of the most frequently asked questions I have encountered when talking to Indonesians about traveling is "have you been to Bali?"- even mentioning Bali in my classes inevitably brings up a chorus of "ooooohs." While no one I talked to had ever been to Bali themselves, they all insisted that it was a beautiful place, paradise even. It is with these high hopes and pictures of white sand beaches in my head that I boarded the ferry from Banuywangi to Bali. From the ferry we drove through picturesque rice fields backed by mountains; by crumbling Hindu temples; and along the coast where the ocean seemed to call my name. Driving into Ubud was like driving into a small artsy town on the east coast- not only was there was a Starbucks on the cute main street, but the place was crawling with bulehs (white people)! Starved from our trip we chose a restaurant for dinner and were greeted by a menu that contained not only salads but a variety of western food and alcohol- we could only hope that we had somehow taken the boat back to America. Our three days in Ubud were spent relaxing in Starbucks, spending way too much money at the bookstores which sold English books, learning about the rich Hindu culture of the area, and eating all of the cuisines we had missed so much. Even though we could have easily have stayed in Ubud we booked tickets to take us to Kuta where we would meet a group of friends to celebrate the new year. Unfortunately, somehow in the three days that we were there, none of us realized that there was an hour time difference, so we missed our bus (don't ask me how the three of us were granted Fulbrights). Luckily we were able to get on another bus about an hour later and make the two hour drive to Kuta.

While Ubud surprised us with it's charm and small town America feel, Kuta surprised us with shirtless Australians, crass souvenirs, pushy salespeople, and offers of ephedrine on the street. It reminded me of the Jersey shore during senior week. From that time on our group of three began expanding as more of our ETA friends made it to Kuta to ring in the New Year. We spent a lot of our time on the beach- which was sadly far from white sand- appreciating the fantastic restaurants and bars, and just enjoying each others company. New Year's Eve was a blast in one of the many clubs in downtown Kuta which turned into an ETA reunion as the night wore on. I was supposed to leave the next day to return to Pekanbaru, but due to a flight miscommunication I couldn't leave until Tuesday which I happily endured. All in all it was an excellent trip and I returned to Pekanbaru a little tanner, a little poorer, and a whole lot happier.

My Trip in Pictures

Please visit my Picassa web albums link to view all of the pictures from my vacation.

December and January

Trek Swim Climb: Part One of my Three Week Vacation

 My month long holiday has sadly come to an end, but oh! the places I've been! My travels began in the city of Medan which is about twelve hours north of Pekanbaru. Eric and I kicked off our trip with three days in the small village of Bukit Lawang, home to an orangutan conservatory in Gunug Leuser National Park. An all day trek with our guide Dharma was wildly successful and we not only encountered orangutans at the conservatory's feeding stations; but, we were chased through the jungle by an orangutan named Minah with a record for biting tourists. It was more than a bit disconcerting when Dharma, who has trekked the jungle for years and knows most of the orangutans, told us to run. Needless to say we did not hesitate. 

Our next stop was Lake Toba,  the largest volcanic crater lake in the world created by a super volcanic eruption. We stayed on Samosir Island which stands in the middle of Lake Toba and is about the size of Singapore. The relaxed island  attitude seemed to seep out of Samosir and we were surprised by the many signs advertising "magic mushrooms". We hiked to a gorgeous waterfall, rented a sweet pink motorbike and toured the many small villages on the island, swam in the lake, ate huge lake fish, and just relaxed in true island style. The last stop on our Sumatra tour was Berastagi, famous for its fruit market and the two volcanoes that shadow the small town.  We climbed Mt. Sibayak, the smaller of the two at 7, 257 feet. Although its last eruption was in 1881, the volcano still has many active steam vents and the smell of sulfur was over powering at times. Standing at the mouth of the volcano truly made me feel insignificant.

The crater of Mt. Sibayak

The next day we flew to Surabaya on the island of Java where we traveled to Malang, Eric's hometown, to spend a few days relaxing with some of our best friends. In Malang we added Polly and Brandon to our duo and together we spent Christmas on a bus (4 actually) bound for Banuywangi where we visited a National Park and ultimately boarded a ferry that would take us to Bali. Bali, however is a horse of a different color and therefore deserves its own post...