Idul Adha: It's No Petting Zoo

A few months back, I was skyping my good friend and informant on Islamic culture, Zohaib. Zohaib, who lived in both Pakistan and the US, gives me some of the best advice on cultural difference. Today's warning: The second Eid. Zohaib warns me of a strange and sometimes vomit-inducing holiday where animals are slaughtered on the street and in mosques. "I don't know how it is in Indonesia," Zohaib warns, "but it makes a lot of foreigners sick in Pakistan." Curious, I asked a few Indonesian friends and they confirmed what Zohaib told me. "Makes foreigners sick! It makes me sick! Too much blood," one friend mentioned. I guess its a good thing I don't have an uneasy stomach.

As the day approached, livestock pins popped up every few miles. A lot of times children were looking at the animals with their parents, which made them seem like petting zoos--petting zoos with an ending fit for Ted Nugent.

Then came the day--I was surprised at how little blood I actually saw (The fact I woke up around 2 pm, after the sacrifice had happened, might have had something to do with it) I ended up going over to my friend Agung's house to make sate (the national dish) from the meat slaughtered that morning. At fist, I was given the job of cutting the meat into grillable cubes. Clumsy me, I knocked over a piece of liver into a bag on the floor and Agung's mom had to fish it out. While Agung's mom had washed the meat earlier, no one washed it after. I'm pretty sure this is a cultural difference and not me not realizing I was supposed to wash something (I hope at least haha). Next, I put the flavored cubes onto skewers. This, I was able to do without a hitch.

Then came the Grilling. If you are American, you've probably been to a few summer barbeques. Remember that large charcoal grill? You or one of your parents would light it, close the top until the charcoal glows red, then watch your steak, ribs, or tin-foiled veggies until they are done. Indonesian grilling is a bit more labor intensive: you crouch over tiny floor grills and fan the charcoal until it turns red. When I mean fan, I MEAN FAN: you vigorously flap around whatever piece of plywood or cardboard you have at your disposal and you don't stop until you think its done, realize its not, and then start fanning again. That process is a whole lot more exhausting compared to the American grills with lids that do the same thing. Next, you put the raw sate on, cook it until it's brown on the outside, cover it in more sauce and repeat. After an hour or so of preparing this meal, you finally get to eat it! It was a quite tasty treat and I was able to make some new friends even if it gave me horrible food poisoning the next day.

Kerupuk Blogger

Ever noticed how British people seem to call anything "pudding?" "Pudding" for them can be anything from your iconic tapioca pudding to black and white pudding, which is actually sausage, or spotted dick, which is more like fruit cake. Well Indonesians have a similarly all-encompassing food word: Kerupuk. The word "Kerupuk" refers to a cracker or chip, and while it doesn't quite cover as much as "pudding" does for the British, it covers everything from styrofoamy white things that look like funnel cake, to tiny star-shaped chips with colorful edges. You have certain types with noodles, others with porridge, and some you just snack on when you are bored.

Anyway, I thought Kerupuk would be a good subject to start off my entry on Indonesian food. My favorite Kerupuk is something you often see in Thai restaurants in the US. In the US, you are served these pastel colored chips in a basket as you sit down at a booth in your favorite, air conditioned Thai restaurant. They feel kind of greasy, and when you put one on your tongue, and it sticks to it like its gripping your taste buds with little hands. When you ask the waiter what you are eating, he responds "shrimp chips." funny. They don't taste fishy.

In Indonesia, however, you get these when you sit in an open air Rumah Makan, which is a food stall plus benches, a table, and a tarp around the place to shield you from the sun and advertise their food. This time you get these chips sprinkled on top of your chicken porridge or gado-gado (salad with peanut sauce). If you want more, the seller will give you an aluminum box full of slightly stale ones. As you scoop some porridge out with a chip, they make a satisfying crackle. Out of the noise, mostly honking from motor cycles and whistles from angkot,you hear a little mew next to your feet...it's a stray cat looking for scraps.

At a Rumah Makan or warung (food stall) you'll probably see another common type of Kerupuk is the styrofoamy white ones I mentioned before. These look a little like someone took minature versions of the pool noodles you played with as a kid, but curly-cued and glued together to form an oval. A an undipped bite can sometimes taste like pool noodle too. You usually eat these with soup or noodle-soup. My first experience with these was not pleasant: My host family told me "Try Kerupuk!" I sunk my teeth into a dry one and thought is this really food?. Four months since, I can't eat a spicy noodle soup with out a few of these to soaked up the broth and extinguish the burn.

The last type is one I came across in Tegal:Kerupuk Tahu These are fiberous brown domes of crunchy fried tofu that look a little bit like a cross between quisp and shredded wheat. These are my least favorite type and have definitely contributed to my mounting hatred of tofu. Imagine your average shredded wheat cereal, but instead of being sweet and mild, it's salty and tastes strongly of tofu.I first tried this when my family was snacking around a coffee table when someone offered me one of these. I can't remember my initial reaction to the taste, but I do remember coughing. I'd made the mistake of breathing in while chewing and ended up with a throatful of spikey tofu bits. Since then, I've been a bit more savvy about eating them--or avoiding eating them. Every time someone comes over from Tegal, they offer me these little crackers. I end up taking a bite and hiding the rest until I can get a chance to toss it.

Images of Kerupuk: http://www.google.co.id/images?q=kerupuk&um=1&hl=en&biw=1024&bih=677&tbs=isch:1,isz:m&source=lnt&sa=X&ei=5KgQTbG0A87NrQefvqC9Cw&ved=0CAgQpwU

On the Kereta Api

Some of you who have been on Canadian Rail find Amtrak, for lack of a better word, bad. After all, its not as clean, fast, pretty, or comfortable. It's just not worth the time when you can fly. However, if you rode Indonesian rail, you might rethink Amtrak. "A train in Indonesia is almost like a train in India" Agung told me days before I took economy class to Gunung Padang. Although I've never been on a train in India, I can imagine Agung is right (although no one was riding on the roof). When I boarded at the Ciroyom Station, it was still empty enough to grab a seat on a bench. Two little girls were singing for money, a man was selling snake fruit out of a cart, and a woman wearing bright make up was selling bread out of a basket on her head. The benches were narrow, unpadded, and only lined side on the train. The windows were small and high, which didn't really didn't affect us at the time, but did so later while snapping high-speed photos.

Then came the crowds. I few stops in, people poured in. The benches filled up, and people started standing, sitting on the floor, and just trying their best to occupy what free space there was. There was smoking, sleeping and guitar-playing. There were so many people blocking windows that our car got dark. I also got a sense we were with a lower social class than I usually meet at school or in the malls. Train tickets are very cheap, cheap enough to give poorer people a chance to travel.

About halfway through the trip, we hit some beautiful scenery--rice paddies and mountains--all the green was quite a change from the rusty-red roofs seen all over Bandung. I had to get some photos of this, so I stuck part of my camera out the window to get a few shots...I will attempt to post them here.

My Heart Belongs to Griya

Well I thought since I spend so much time here, I should write about my favorite place to go in Bandung--The grocery store. In Michigan, I grew up with high-ceilinged, large-parking-lotted suburban grocery stores in the strip malls that ran along 40-mile-an-hour roads. On the most densely populated island in the world, grocery shopping is a little different. Most grocery stores are little convenience stores like Indomaret. Others, like Griya or Yogya are much larger, but are very cramped, have a larger selection but still quite small compared to American Walmarts, Kmarts, or even Michigan's own Busch's. The largest grocery stores are found in malls. These ones have some of the widest aisles I have ever seen and are big enough to get lost in...at least for a little while. Every mall seems to have their own grocery store with strange escalators built to take carts to the parking lot.

Then there is Griya Arcamanik--my neighborhood grocery store. Since Griya is only a short walk from my house across one of the less-busy streets in Bandung, it was the first place I learned to get to by myself. Since then, I've spent quite a lot of time there. Griya is more cramped and busy than any of the other stores I have been to, the aisles are much too small for carts, so this is a basket-only store. Off to one side: colorful tropical produce in crazy shapes, off to the other: rows of snacks, noodles, drinks and any other processed food items that probably won't give me food poisoning. Upstairs (yes there is an upstairs) is where they keep all the things you don't want to eat like, shampoo, clothing and washing machine soap. Surprisingly enough, they even have a small dressing room with a cloth curtain that sways every time someone passes. I'm afraid that when I am changing someone will run by and cause the curtain to fly open.

The first time I stepped into Griya, it was like an amusement park of food and I was finally tall enough to ride all the rides. The food was colorful, strange, sweet and cheap! I had no parents telling me I shouldn't get too many sweets and the food was so cheap that my two sagging, overfull bags cost only $10! After that, I visited Griya as if a doctor had prescribed a visit a day. I bought spikey pink and green dragon fruit, lugged pounds of juicy, yellow markisa, avoided smelly durian, and puzzled whether to buy green or yellow mangoes in the produce selection. Next, I'd move on to the candy section, shoving candies and chips like Silverqueen, Beng Beng, Choky, Mister Potato, and Yupie into my basket. If you know how much of a Tea addict I am, you'll know how excited I was when I found the bottled tea sectioned. I'm used to a small choice between Sweet Leaf and Arizona in the United States, but in Tea-loving Indonesia, I could buy Teh Kotak, Teh Botol, Frestea, Fruitea, Nutea and Tebs....*passes out from listing my selection*

Upstairs was less exciting. While I was happy to find clothes that cost less than $10, I was a little annoyed that I couldn't seem to find any lotion that didn't turn my skin white. Do ALL Indonesian women really want to look white? Don't some of them like their skin color? After a long search I finally found a bottle of green tea antioxidant lotion without skin whitener. I wasn't so lucky with face moisturizer. The bottle I thought didn't have any whitening agents turned out to have a white tint to it (can you even have a tint to something that is already white?)

Now that I've lived here for several months I've gotten used to Griya, and when I used to smile at my $10 grocery bill, now I am frustrated that I have to fork over THAT MUCH MONEY! I now know how to get around people, (using the sundanese word "punten") but get annoyed that I have to, and the exotic selection of fruit seems so small, without my favorite fruit, Manggis (Mangosteen). Any questions, just leave them in the comment section.

Indonesian Halloween

Halloween is a North American thing. The countries that love it the most all seem to be the US, Canada, and Mexico. Indonesia is not one of them. The only traces of Halloween were a display of Halloween-themed shirts,and an advertisement for a costume party in Jakarta. Anyway, on the the 30th and 31st I had some non-Halloween-related plans. I wanted to go to a Festival celebrating Bali. I went to both the auditions, and the real show, where I saw a costume cooler any mascot costume I have even seen. He came out wearing a mask and dancing the traditional way with shaking hands, but midway through the show he started doing the moon walk. That night I made it my goal (which is yet unfulfilled) to wear that costume because it was just so cool. Anyway, let me get back to my Halloween story.

So I had just come back to ITB after the Bali festival auditions with Agung, and we were planning on seeing the Sherina concert. when I mention that Halloween is tomorrow and that I miss wearing the costumes. Agung points out that there are lots of costumes with his Southern Sulawesi culture club. So we end up turning around and heading into the tiny room for Unit South Sulawesi. Agung picks me out a shiny red shirt with golden embellishments, two golden cuff-bracelets (unfortunately we couldn't find two cuff bracelets that matched), and an uncomfortable statue-of-liberty-type golden crown. He then pulls out a red shirt with a flat-topped hat that is apparently "slavewear". Now remember how Indonesians don't celebrate Halloween? Well, that meant that we were the only ones wearing costumes. We decided to go to a restaurant in Upper Dago (which is at a higher elevation and is beautiful at night since you can look down at all the lights in Bandung). We were being quite crazy and to fit that crazy mood, we cranked up the craziest music on the radio: Radio Dangdut (Dangdut is sort of a cheesy-type of Indonesian pop music with lots of Arabic and Indian influence). When we stopped at a convenience store to buy candy and drinks, I got many more stares than normal. People must have been thinking, "LOOK! a bule! She must be crazy, she's wearing Indonesian clothes!" I just smiled, and laughed with Agung about the situation. At the restaurant, I was able to get mashed potatoes for the first time since I moved here. On the way home I ended up screaming "hello" out the window to all passers-by. While I wasn't able to do any of these things on Halloween, I ended up getting my costume fix for the year on the 30th.

Pirates of the Ring of Fire

When I was visiting Claremont McKenna College a few years ago as part of the long drawn-out college admissions process, I joined a law class, where the professor asked his students "what is legal." The agreed upon definition ended up being "almost everything average people do on a daily basis". This may be true in the US, but not so much in Indonesia. It's a nessecesity to break traffic laws, and sometimes pay off police men. Teenagers smoke cigarettes in public even though they are underage. Books are photocopied and read as so. The thing that strikes me the most, however, is the wide spread pirating of TV and movies. Bootleg movies are more widespread than the originals! When you enter a video shop, you look through rows of plastic cellophane bags. See a movie you like, you slip out the disc (usually its scratched in someway) and put it into one of the many DVD players that the video store provides you. Then, you scan through all chapters to make sure there are no stops. Lately, I've been wondering how these discs get so scratched in the first place! Anyway, once you are satisfied that your discs work, you take them to the register and pay 50 or 60 cents per disc. Some of you may be horrified that your favorite actors and directors aren't getting royalties (most I'm guessing don't care though, haha) but pirated movies are close to a necessecity for movie lovers. Insonesia is a country that censors sex so heavily, that when I go to the movies I don't always know whats going on since the government has cut several scenes important to the plot. In a video store, however, you can buy "wonderful" movies like "Wet Dreams 2" and all the, um, scenes that would have otherwise been censored. I, myself, don't buy such movies, but it's nice to actually understand the plot of a good movie that just happen to contain a few sex scenes.

Another branch of pirating is TV and software. I personally don't have experience with pirated software, though I know you can get stuff like Photoshop for free. The TV side is a much bigger deal to me. In Indonesia, you can't access Hulu, and youtube works excrutiatingly slowly. Certain American shows are just not aired on Indonesian TV. So how do you get these wonderful shows in the world of anime and soap opera? You download them onto a disc or a flash drive and watch them that way.

Parijs van Java

Given that I have been in Bandung for over two months already and have not yet done so, I will explain a little bit about my Indonesian home town. Located in the Mountains in West Java, Bandung is described by Indonesians as “cold.” Cold, mind you, means a high of about 85° F (28° C) year-round, Instead of Jakarta's 90° F (32° C). Inland, Bandung is an area with no beaches, but a relatively (key word: relatively) low chance of floods, and almost no tsunamis. They say if you live anywhere on Java you live close to an active volcano, and Bandung is no exception. I live close to Tangkuban Perahu which translates into “the upside down boat” and, you guessed it, looks like an upside down boat. Don't worry, while its active, it's not as active as you'd think, and I'm still at a pretty low risk of volcanic eruption, but recently, we've been getting volcanic ash, a toxically fun gift from Mount Merapi's eruption in Central Java. Basically, Bandung is no one-tornado-warning-a-year Michigan, but for someone living on the Ring of Fire, it's pretty dang safe....I feel a Johnny Cash song coming on, how about you? haha.

Enough about eminent doom in Bandung, let me describe life here: Bandung is a strange cross between Seattle, Los Angeles and Boston. Seattle, because it rains A LOT; Los angeles, because of its sprawl and general pedestrian-unfriendly nature; and Boston, because it is the nation's most famous college town. When I googled Bandung's universitas and sekolah tinggi (university and college), I got 10 results, the most famous of which is ITB (Bandung Institute of Technology), which I have mentioned in previous posts. As a result, Bandung has many shops and activities that cater to the economically-deprived college student including book stores, outlet malls, pasta shops, and places where you can buy paper-thin steaks for about $2 or $3. The best part, however, are the festivals every weekend! Usually, there is something going on at Sabuga, ITB's multipurpose building, and if not, some other school has got something to do. Its a great place for an exchange student because I can meet a lot of former exchange students now in college, and I'm not limited to my high school's extracurriculars! Bandung is also home to the military base of the Siliwangi Tigers, which happens to be right next to my school. If you walk anywhere away from school, you are bound to find statues of tigers in scary positions and soldiers in heroic ones.

Bandung also has a rich history, much of which I don't know, haha. I'm sure some of my Indonesian friends will end up helping me out in the comment section though. Bandung was built by the Dutch, who felt Jakarta was just too hot. It was then Nicknamed Parijs Van Java, or Paris of Java, for its beauty, cool temperature, resort-feel and overall European-ness. Nowadays, it still seems a little European, but it has clearly become like every other Java-sprawl: dirty, crowded, and full of motorcycles. It's still quite beautiful, but it takes a little more time to notice. People from Jakarta still come to visit on weekends, which only clogs traffic more. It was also home to the Asia-Africa confrence, a conference that united non-aligned (plus a few aligned ones haha) countries during the cold war. Another fun fact: the first Indonesian president, Sukarno, went to ITB. Hmmm...thats enough history for today.

The only things that I can complain about in Bandung are the traffic and pollution. I have previously described the frequent traffic jams, and the real-life game of Frogger that is crossing the street, but another annoying thing is the lack of a grid system. Jl. Cihampelas is one way and turns into dr. Setiabudi, which ends up with another branch called Jl. Cipaganti. Jl. Siliwangi is somewhere in there too haha. Its a nightmare to navigate on your own and you are not always sure the Angkot you are taking will go the same path the way home. The pollution is also a bit of an issue, although its hardly something unique to Bandung. Foreigners and locals alike develop a cough. One friend tells me that he had a cough throughout his life that magically dissappeared when he lived in Wisconsin for a year (gotta love that Dairy-air ;) ). Sure enough, it came back when he returned to Indonesia.

The Quest for the Camera

As you may know from previous blogs, I have been searching for a working camera for a since I discovered the distortion problem with my Kodak camera. I'd searched the web to find I couldn't use a credit card, most cameras were cheaper in the US and didn't ship to Indonesia, and many other problems. So about two months later I ended up going with a friend to buy one once and for all. I've changed my mind as to what kind of camera I want from a point and shoot to a DSLR because they seem to be more reasonably-priced here. I cut a deal with my parents to sell it once I came back to the states, and I was ready. I left at 1:00 PM for a store that is famously cheap and good. I thought it would be an in-and-out trip. WRONG! I got to the store, a little hole in the wall with white walls and cameras everywhere, and as it turns out you can't buy Canon cameras for under $400 and they were out of the best alternative, the Sony α230. We hopped in a car and drove to another photography store, this one was more of a studio that also sold cameras. What do you know, they were out at that store too. As were many of the other stores we visited in the local electronics mall. Finally we found one that sold my camera, it worked, I couldn't wait...that is until the salesman found out his machine didn't work with foreign credit cards. Back to square one.
At lunch we figured it out—Sanya would use her credit card and I would pay her back in cash once my parents put more in my account. I am now an Alpharian. On my way home, I hugged my camera tight as I rode on the Angkot. I don't know what I would have done if my camera had gotten lost, stolen or broken on my first day. The next day, I had a few more problems...I'd taken a lot of photos, none of which wanted to upload to my computer. Oh crap, not another faulty camera! I thought. I'd been plagued with two already, and I did not want to go back to the stress that was the Bandung Electronics Mall. Negotiating sales involving hundreds of dollars is not easy in a foreign language, even if you have a translator. I tried a card reader...no luck. Finally, I rebooted the computer and got it! Soon I will upload some photos I have taken with it to my blog.

Gym Class: or as I like to call it Public Humiliation

Since I started school here, I've been forced to participate in the torture known as Indonesian Gym Class. Gym Class has always been known for its ability to make its students into fools, but some think Indonesian gym class takes it a step further. It's set up like your elementary school gym class: once a week, in a small gym or field, group stretches, etc. (I haven't had to climb a rope yet though haha). We start off doing high impact "jerk" stretches (the kind you were taught not to do in your American, 1990s, high school PE textbook) Then we move on to some sort of aerobic activity...usually involving running in some embarrassing fashion while little kids from outside the gym watch. Next we do either something relating to volleyball or gymnastics. When you screw up, you not only carry the shame of screwing up, but you also do 5 push ups--the funny-looking girl-push ups that hurt your knees. All in all, gym class makes me want to curse most days, and on the few days I am good at what I do, it still manages to make my back and neck sore. Like Elementary School, you also have to take a fitness test once in a while. I had to do this on my first gym class. I failed miserably. Hmm, If you have anymore questions about gym class let me know.

Pasar Seni ITB

I'm not too sure why I haven't done a blog post on this yet, because it happened a few weeks ago. But here we go: Pasar seni--the Art Market is an event at a local college that happens one every 4 or 5 years (I heard people say both 4 years and 5 years so I'm not sure which one it is. Unfortunately, I don't have a ton to say about it. First, even though I called ahead very early, I came late because of traffic jams that not even a motorcycle could weave through. When I got there, I realized it was nearly impossible to get to the other end of campus where I was supposed to meet my friend. I ended up squeezing through parades, winding through a maze of tents, running up off-limits areas and hoping the security guards didn't notice. Finally, I met up with a friend, Agung and I got to see the fair. Hhhmm I saw a giant tower of bikes, many parades and everything from traditional art to modern day photography. Then came the heat and the crowds. That day I downed about 3 bottles of liquids and When I sat down, I noticed the soles of my shoes had melted through! Then came the search for new shoes. Agung and I had to squeeze through thick crowds to get to shoe stalls and we had no luck for about an hour or so. The one thing I can say PCEP (my American High School) taught me was how to move through crowds. I was able to fall through to the other side a lot faster than others in the mob. The great thing was that Indonesians actually move a little to let you through. It wasn't like at PCEP where to get through, you had to suffer hundreds of shoulders bumping against yours as you got to the other side. There isn't much else to say other than I finally found my shoes and the heat made me so tired I had to go home early. It was a pretty fun day, but made for a pretty boring blog entry haha.

Theft! in Bandung

It was Thursday, which meant gym class, which meant changing into a different uniform and leaving the normal one in the classroom with the rest of our stuff. Before I left, I placed my backpack and badminton racquet next to my table and slipped the old, worn cell phone my host family had given me into the breast pocket of my uniform that sat folded on my desk. As I left, I remembered to slip my wallet into my pocket. Bandung may be safe, but I'm not taking chances with my money and ID cards.
Later, while I am in gym class, a classmate, Lidya, hurriedly drops off her backpack since she is running late. When you are late to gym class, you have to do extra exercises.
We get back to gym class and I check the clock. Ugh, still broken. I reach for my cell phone to check the time and its not there. I check in my backpack, around the desk, after all I am prone to loose things—still not there. People start asking me what I am looking for and I tell them “I can't find my cell phone, I thought I left it in my pocket. Students look shocked and start rifling through their bags. Lidya can't find her wallet or her cell phone either. Now everyone whispers about theft and how surprising it is, they all thought SMAN 3 was safe!
Theft in Indonesian high schools is not as common as in high schools in the US, and as a result, they are treated differently. When school officials heard we had things stolen from our room, even though the total value was probably less than $100 USD, math class was cancelled, and school officials asked us questions. That day and the next, almost every teacher and many students apologized for the theft. I actually found the situation kind of funny, because I never expected that horrible phone would ever be stolen, after all, the LCD screen was a little broken and it was not a nice phone in any sense.
Later, my Indonesian teacher gets a text message from my phone saying “I need help, please send more pulsas (the equivalent of minutes for US phones)”...except it was in texting-bahasa, something a newbie exchange student would not know yet. Proof it had been stolen.
I eventually bought a new phone and Lidya got her wallet back (the thief had taken the money and thrown the rest in the trash) so I guess we are back to normal now. Oh well. haha.

Why More Americans (than just me haha) Should Study Abroad in Indonesia

1. The food is amazing!! Food in Bandung is tasty, from what you get from street vendors to food in the Malls. Even McDonald's and KFC tastes better than the ones in the US. Fancy bakeries are also popular here, not to mention they are quite cheap. High-end steaks cost about $5 USD for local Indonesian beef and $8 USD for fancy imported Australian Beef.
2. There is so much to do. In Bandung there is a festival almost every weekend, so you can't be bored. Plus, it's ok that you can't drive because public transit its easy to find from taxi, to Ojek, to public transit buses.
3. No winter. Always a plus haha.
4. School has a much more relaxed feel than many other places in the world. My school even has a beautiful garden!
5. Its primarily Islamic. Americans would really benefit from learning about Islam, since we are currently at war with Islamic extremists, and it's quite possible we will end up at war with Iran (also Muslim). It's important to realize not all Muslims are like the Taliban or the government in Iran, and Islam in Indonesia is about as far away from that as possible.
6. FREEDOOOOMMMM! You will find a greater degree of Freedom to go and do what you please in Indonesia than in similar countries, like India. Indonesian parents aren't usually too overprotective, so I've ended up having a lot of fun with my friends, even only a month into my stay.
7. Easy language. The precursor to Bahasa Indonesia, Malay, was a trading language, so it has very simple grammar. Indonesia was also a Dutch colony, which means they use our alphabet, and even have a few English cognates. So, you really only have to worry about learning vocabulary, dealing with local-language-words and slang that pop up in conversation, but not in your dictionary.
8. Its American Friendly! Indonesians greatly respect Americans, more so than Europeans. They are thrilled that Barack Obama lived in Indonesia, and most Indonesians either dream of visiting the US, have already visited US or are planning on visiting the US. It's one of the most popular countries to go to on student exchange, partly because the US government gives Indonesians scholarships. Native English speakers (especially Americans) are rare as well, so people love for you to give them English lessons.
9. Similar standards of fun. Indonesians and Americans like to have fun in the same ways. They go to the mall, play in arcades, go swimming, and (I've heard but haven't actually experienced since I live inland) like to surf. They may like to sing karaoke, which isn't too American, but they do it in a more American way—in a private room, which means no public humiliation. The only big difference is that Americans like to stay out later. This hasn't really been much of a problem for me though.
10. Similar standards of modesty. Although Indonesians prefer pants over shorts, sleeves over sleeveless, one-pieces over bikinis, and public nudity is not something you will get arrested for, Indonesians and Americans are pretty similar in this area. You won't find yourself hiding your privates in a public bath where no one else seems to care, or peeing in a bathroom with a large window through which the world can see you like my friend in China. Nor will you get stoned for baring your arms, hair or wearing makeup. Indonesia is not Saudi Arabia: its personal choice to wear a head scarf or not, and in fact, most Indonesian women do not.
11. Rich culture, but with the comforts of the west. Indonesia is not culturally conservative. They are willing to adopt aspects of other cultures that benefit them more than other cultures would. As a result, you can contact all your friends through facebook and on their blackberry while you are eating at KFC or pizza hut. Indonesians haven't lost their traditional culture either. Even in one of the biggest cities in Indonesia, I see things like rice paddies, grazing cows, roosters, and banana and durian trees. I also have plenty of chances to learn traditional dance, instruments, arts and more. Not to mention Indonesians still wear traditional clothing along with western clothing, or a mix of the two, as batik is still considered more formal, and is even printed on western-style clothing.
12. Beauty. Despite the Pollution, ecological damage, and general dirt of Indonesia, it still has beautiful plants, scenery, mountains and anything else. Usually, you only need to travel a little distance out of your way to see a beautifully unique Indonesian scene. Often Europe just looks a lot like the US :(.
13. Indonesia is the 4th largest country in the world and arising economic power. I predict Indonesia is going to become a lot more important to world politics and economics in the future, so it will be important to know something about it. After all, Indonesia is no longer classified as a developing county.

Indonesia Hurts My Back

Hmm. I haven't written a blog post in a while, not that I haven't been doing anything, but because I haven't thought of anything interesting to say. I still can't think of much to say, but I shall talk about a cultural difference of Indonesia that has been causing my back some problems: sitting. The Sundanese love to sit, and when I say they like to sit, I mean they like to sit on the floor. Americans, however, like to stand. If they have to wait for something, they stand. If they are chatting, they stand. As some of you may already know, I have back problems, and while standing may hurt my back, sitting is worse. Unfortunately, sitting is inescapable. Indonesians often have meeting in places that don't have chairs. I sit on the floor at gym class, for assemblies, special school events, while studying, while I am waiting for someone and every occasion in between. What seems the most peculiar is that I sometimes see people sitting on the floor when there is an open couch or bench next to them. Isn't it more comfortable to sit here? I often think, until I am invited off the bench and on the floor with them...then I know for sure it was more comfortable on the bench. It seems to be more polite to sit on the floor when others are as well. So as soon as someone sits on the floor, I usually end up sitting on the floor as well. Its a bit frustrating for me and my back. In addition to sitting on the floor, there are other aspects of Indonesian sitting that are a tad frustrating. Because Java is so crowded, traffic jams are common. Because Bandung is sprawled out like LA, it has horrible, and sometimes nonexistent sidewalks. You must take a vehicle to get anywhere. This means you are likely to sit in Angkot and car seats for hours on end waiting in a traffic jam. I've been taking motor cycles lately, which are much nicer since they zip through traffic much quicker, and I end up spending a lot less time on them, but motor cycles are just as uncomfortable, if not more than cars or buses. Class is probably what causes me the most pain: we sit on very uncomfortable wooden seats for classes that last about 1.5-2 hours long. The only plus is that massages here cost about $2 for 30 minutes...I anticipate a lot of massages in my future haha.

Types of Angkot Drivers

Now that I have gained quite a bit of experience with indonesia's own public transit system(angkutan kota), I have noticed some peculiar things about the people who drive them.

1. The Musicians: These are angkot drivers who honk every few seconds. i'm not sure if they are impatient, want to attract riders, or just like to toot their own horn (pardon the pun)
2. The Mafia Escapees: These drivers drive as if they were given cement shoes, but some how managed to go on with life. Every time they stop or start you feel as if you are going to fall on to the person next to you.
3. The Racers: These drivers are in such a hurry to get to the end of the route, that you sometimes miss your stop. If not, when you say "kiri" to stop them they overshoot your stop buy a lot
4. The Chimneys: As you sit next to these drivers you find chain smoking is their on-the-road hobby, not necessarily bad drivers, but I try to avoid sitting next to them.
5. The mothers: These are my favorite. These guys look out for the little white girl traveling alone in Indonesia at night. Usually, they are kind of chatty, which helps me practice my bahasa.
6. The Deaf Ones: These are the ones that don't stop unless you scream "kiri" multiple times. Very frustrating.

Indonesians: if you have anything more to add go ahead :)

Eliza Gets Lost: The Sequel

My oh my. Yesterday certainly was something. If you don't already know this about me, I love to crochet, so much so that while crocheting at school yesterday, I ran out of yarn. So, I planned a trip to a cafe (Reading Lights) that sells yarn and, in general, has a relaxing atmosphere. At school, I consulted my Angkot-expert friends as to correct route to take. This happened to be the place I got lost trying to get to before by angkot, so I was extra viligilant and even had some schoolmates tell the angkot driver where I was going. Guess what? I still got lost haha. This time I wasn't as far away though, so I just retraced my steps, asked people for the street I was looking for, and I found it. That did me no good because Reading Lights turns out to be closed on Mondays. You can imagine after a 3 or 4 block walk, a sweaty angkot ride, and hours of school, did not want to find out that instead of collapsing into a cushy couch with a drink and a ball of yarn, I had to take another sweaty angkot back to somewhere I knew. None the less, I took a trip to McDonalds (not my favorite place, but I knew where it was haha) and met Ricarda after I ordered two huge pieces of chicken, fries, an ice cream sundae, and a Teh Botol (this means bottled tea, and ironically came in a box that day haha). We ended up taking ojek to a local mall, bought maps, found out 30 minute massages cost about $2 and ate at J. Co (OMG, I LOOOVE THAT PLACE). However, if our way back was a movie, it would be named “Eliza Gets Lost the Sequal: Eliza and Ricarda Get Lost together.” We decide to take the Angkot back to Ricarda's house first, then send me on my angkot. We climb on Ricarda's white angkot and ride for about a half an hour until I think this is taking way too long, this can't be a very direct route. I tell Ricarda and she assures me, it just takes a long time to get to her house from the mall. About ten or twenty minutes later I start seeing landmarks on my route home. “um, Ricarda, I think we're on the wrong angkot because we're closer to my house now than yours.” I tell her. “Oh my god are you sure?! We must have taken the wrong direction!” Ricarda replies. We stop the bus and start walking hoping to find an Ojeg station. It was a good thing that we got lost on this bus and not another because it was already dark and while we eventually found someone who directed Ricarda to the right place, I didn't need directions, since I was close enough I could just hop on my regular bus. On the way home I chatted with another SMAN 3 student almost entirely in Bahasa Indonesia, I was quite proud haha.

Eliza Miller's Week Off

This week has been so fun haha. I didn't go to school because SMAN 3 had exams, so I've been hanging out instead. Tuesday, I went to a traditional mask painting workshop at ITB (Bandung Institute of Technology) as part of a big Art Festival hosted there on 10, 10, 10. Each of us used traditional colors to paint a plain, fiber glass, dancing mask (the real ones are made out of wood) complete with a flap to bite down on in the back (that is how these masks are held on your face). Unfortunately, there was a mix-up with sand paper so we had difficulty smoothing the mask before painting and there also seemed to be a shortage of white paint. Oh well, I think my mask still turned out nice :).I can't remember which character I got, but once I find out, I will post it in a comment. After that, I met up with AFS volunteers who showed Ricarda and me around the art campus. It made me really wish I was in college haha. Such a stimulating atmosphere, I think I will take some classes there when my Bahasa Indonesia gets better. Dina, one of the volunteers showed me to a place where I could buy yarn and I've been crocheting ever since! Last, I went to Bosccha Observatory, which isn't usually open to public, but that day it was. We went up a hill on an old Vespa that kept stalling, but I was able to see Bandung at night from above, something I wish everyone could see: Bandung lights up, and its like looks at stars from above.
On Wednesday, I decided to join Ricarda and Dina because I had nothing better to do. My host Brother, Dhimas, dropped me off at McDonald's to meet them. McDonald's here is a bit different than the ones in the US: in the us the food is greasy and tasteless and you're likely to get hard or soggy fries with a meal, but in Indonesia, the food is much crispier and comes with a side of rice rolled into a patty, and covered in paper like a burger. Why? McDonald's retains their American prices in Indonesia, which buys only low-quality meat in the US, but in the land of the $.50 USD lunches, means they can afford the best. Overall, I think a Mcdonald's meal is a perfect example of cultural diffusion: Indonesians get American culture through food and American culture changes (adds rice and Teh Botol) for Asia.

And now what you've all been waiting for: Eliza Gets Lost on Angkot!!!!

Anyway, Dina ended up having to cancel, so she suggested I meet another AFS volunteer at the place I bought yarn the day before, gave me directions by Angkot. Unfortunately the place was a little hidden and I missed my stop!! I ended up on the train tracks crossing busy street near a University I'd never heard of. I'd gone so far out, The Angkot I needed didn't go the other way! So I waited at the University until a Taxi came. I finally got to the shop 45 minutes late! Not much else happened that day except that I ended up really late to my Bahasa Indonesia lesson.
Yesterday, I met Ricarda and our Indonesian teacher for lunch at a steak shop. Remember that thick, juicy steak you got for your birthday? Not in Indonesia! The steaks here are cheap, but only a few milimeters thick. I was still hungry after that, so I ordered a burger. Also not like the US haha. It wasn't a sandwich, it was a patty fried in oil with some veggies on the side. After that strange and piggish meal Ricarda and I watched Public Enemies at my house....I have to admit, it was a little disappointing, not to mention all the non-American actors with accent-problems, but no one cares what I think about American movies haha. The thing you should know about movies here is that they are all pirated. Recently, I bought 5 movies for $3, all of which came in a nice cellophane wrapper and needed to be scanned at the video store first to see if there were any problems haha.
Today, I met exchange-student-hopefuls at Telkomsel (an Indonesian phone service that sponsors a two week trip to Australia). Ricarda and I gave our advice on being an exchange student as well as Interviewed a student and helped a little in the selection process. I hope to hear how it goes, although I wish it were me that I could go to Australia! Haha.

Sorry I think my blog posts are starting to get boring...I will have some more interesting ones up soon, just let me know what you want to hear about :)

Once, I went to school very tired and I didn't want to do work, then I remembered that was everyday of my 5 years of high school

Well I think now that I have been to school for 7 days I should talk about my school in Indonesia. I go to SMAN 3 Bandung (Public Senior High School 3 in Bandung. pronounced es-em-ah TEE-guh). Its located in Old Bandung in a building built by the Dutch, which it shares with a different high school, SMAN 5 Bandung. Everyday, Students put on (in my oppinion) ugly and uncomfortable uniforms consisting on a white collared shirt embroidered with your name and school, and an ankle length bluish skirt (bluish pants for boys). Recently, I got my skirt caught in the door of the Ankot on the way home from school. By the time I got off, it was wet from puddles the ankot had driven through. On fridays, you where a shirt patterned with your schools batik. Hopefully, I will be able to post some photos of this. I've been told this is the best high school in Bandung and that if you want to study, you go to SMAN 3 and if you want to have fun, you go to SMAN 5. Getting into high school in Indonesia is more like getting into college in the US: you get into high school based on the grades you had in middle school, not based on where you live. This means I have a long way to drive to school everyday haha. As classes start, the school plays a little western folk tune. I kind of wonder if the school realizes what they are playing since fiercely anti-alcohol SMAN 3 plays “Little Brown jug” on a daily basis. Also, instead of going from one teachers class to another, you stay put on wildly uncomfortable wooden chairs (I've been taking a cushion to school to sit on) and the teachers come to you! Sounds nice since there is less walking, but it means you can't really choose your classes beyond picking a major in science or social studies. I'm majoring in Social studies at our schools only tiny 11th grade social studies class.
Now I'd like to introduce you to the controversy; the reason why my class is so much smaller than all the others: If you major in Science in high school, you can major in whatever you want in college, but if you major in Social Studies, you can only major in a field of Social Studies in college. As a result, students have to take tests to get into a pure science class, and if they fail, they are placed in social science. Also, students are encouraged by parents and teachers to take science even if their interest is in social studies, and those who taking social science anyway are labeled as slackers. This was strange to me coming from PCEP, where most of our best teachers are in social studies, and it seems a lot of kids are pushed the other direction. This school system was set up by the Dutch and my schoolmates postulate that it was to keep Indonesians from fully understanding government, making them less politically powerful and easy to govern. If you haven't already figured this out, the reason my class is so small and that it is the only social studies class in the 11th grade is because SMAN 3 has a reputation to uphold. Not only are the parents of students at SMAN 3 more likely to push their kids into Science, but the school does as well, because the more engineers from the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB for short. Its the Indonesian equivalent of MIT), the better the reputation of the school. At this point, I drew a parallel: I remembered how Mrs. Caldwell, my 10th grade bio teacher, used to tell us she was preparing us to get into the University of Michigan and our school counselors telling us the school requirements were based on those to get into the University of Michigan and Michigan State University. It seems Indonesia is in a frustrating educational position that many students want to change. Good luck to them!
I'll end on a good note telling you about some of features of my school. Our school has really good, cheap, food which you seem to be allowed to eat in class. SMAN 3 has a very nice cafeteria, and (to the annoyance of 3's students) students from SMAN 5 will come to each there causing it to get a little crowded (but not PCEP crowded haha). My school also has two fountains, a garden, and wifi so I find it very pretty to go there. I'm liking my teachers, although I have no idea what most of them are saying, except my German teacher who teaches part of her lesson in English (I think because English is closer to German) and my civics teacher who I think made her lesson partly in English for me.hmm...if theres anything else you'd like to know about my school, shoot me a comment.

I got jumped by a Gecko

Indonesia has different ideas about "pests" in the home than Americans. Because Indonesians often leave doors open, ants crawl over everything, flies buzz around food, and the occasional cockroach pops out. Most Indonesians just ignore these pests rather than kill them. Another Indonesian pest: Geckos that stick to the walls. Many Indonesians seem a little afraid of them, most just don't understand my facisnation with them. I guess its kind of like a foreigner coming to Michigan with a fascination with squirrels. Anyway, geckos normally come out when lights are off. When you turn the lights back on and they realize that you see them, they will scurry to the nearest dark. One day, I found a gecko on our kitchen table. I saw it quickly shuffle under our serving plate and alerted my host mom. We lifted the serving plate as the gecko scurried some place else on the table. My host mother proceeds to bang on the table causing the gecko to jump away from the sound onto my shoes. I squeel in surprise and My mom and I both laugh. I'd been attacked by a gecko.

Indonesian Time

Yesterday was an adventure of epic proportions--filled with rolling rocks and arrows along the way. My quest: get to my Indonesian Lesson. The day started out with an impending Indonesian lesson. Part way through the day, I learned that my host brother could not give me a ride to my lesson, and that I would have to get a ride with Ricarda, the German exchange stundent. As it turns out, my phone was out of money, so I couldn't send text messages to anyone. I ended up using another student's phone. As it turns out, Ricarda was getting a ride from our teacher and wasn't sure if he would be able to give me a ride too because he might be taking his motor cycle. I still needed a ride and I didn't know where our teacher's house was, so I asked if I could ride with her to meet him anyway. Confusion ensues. Ricarda gives me the address of our teacher's office, and I assume that I am supposed to get there by myself. My problem: I have no idea where it is and I don't have a map. So, after a long session of phone tag (I put more money on my phone) with Ricarda, my teacher and one of my Indonesian friends, I ended up getting a ride with a schoolmate on a motorcycle. He assured me he could get me there by five o'clock. At 4:50 I get a call from Ricarda saying I should be at her house. I tell her I'm already on my way to the office, and that it was no problem because I already had a ride. After the phone conversation, my ride admits he was going back to the school because he needed to get me a helmet and that I was going to be late. If he had told me that earlier, I could have hitched a ride with Ricarda haha. Back at school, I also learn that my ride who didn't know where he was going, so I rode with someone else. She had difficulty getting me there as well and we ended up 45 minutes late. The punchline of this story? It was no problem, Ricarda's driver had problems as well, so we ended up coming to the office together. And our teacher was okay with it because it gave him extra time. So I thanked everyone for the rides and the help, and I'm glad I didn't end up messing someone up.

Discussion Topic

I've been asked this question or a question similar to this many times in Indonesia (most recently my civics teacher asked me this) and I thought I'd open up this question to all Americans as well as anyone else who has a thought (American or not).

Anyway, the question: Why does the United States get blamed for so many of the worlds problems?

So I've set it so anyone can comment on this even if you are not a member. I think maybe it would be cool if you stated which country(ies) you are from too.

one month down......

Well I've been here for a month now and I'm back from mudik (the trip you take to visit family around idul fitri). I visited the villages of Cianjur, and Tegal. While the drive was incredibly long, complete with infamous Javanese traffic, I did get to see iconic Indonesian rice paddies, mountains and Tropical plants. The iconic scenery didn't stop when I arrived in Cianjur: Chickens ran loose, ceilings were made out of woven bamboo, sheep stood in wooden sheds with stilts. Of course the Indonesian country side has a few not-so-nice icons: cloudy, grey bath water, and squat toilets. Later that night, I discovered another part of Indonesian Islamic culture, unfortunately, it was one that kept me up until I found my earplugs: the night before Idul Fitri, nearby mosques chant “allahu akbar” for hours until midnight. I wish I could give you an explanation as to why they do this, or why they don't just recite a big chunk of the Koran instead of saying the same thing over and over again, but I'm just as lost as you. The next day my family trekked around the village to shake hands, chat, and drink tea with everyone living there. We had quite a bit of free time after that, so we watched a show called “the adventures of suparman” (yes, spelled that way) and had my first conversation entirely in Bahasa Indonesia with a great aunt and tried a delicious Tamarind drink called “Asam Jawa”

hhmmm. So I guess I should talk more about life in Bandung. Bandung is starting to feel like home: I've made some good friends who have taken me out to watch movies, eat pizza and steak, they are really cool guys. I'm not sure when I start up school again, but when I do, I think I will join the badminton club (that is if I'm not too bad).

I bet you all want to hear about some crazy aspects of Indonesia, like one crazy scene that happened after eating my steak: My friends drove me to see the American family of an Indonesian returnee. Due to the heavy rains and excessive litter, the drains clogged up and the street flooded. Bandung turned into Venice, and a motorcyclist even started to fall over and had to be lifted out of the water by the people around him.

Then there are the naked people: Not too long ago I saw a naked man walking down the street very strange. Stranger still, no one around really seemed to react. This made me kind of mad, because a naked Indonesian doesn't even get a stare, but a fully-clothed bule can't walk down the street without someone staring, yelling bule (albino), or taking pictures.

Should I tell you about some more cultural differences? Or more aptly, cultural confusion. I can't seem to figure out who pays for what here. I've only paid for myself once when out with my friends so far: is that normal, or am I the jerk that doesn't pay? I think it's been ok that I haven't been paying so far, since it seems a lot of the time one person pays for all, but I'm not sure when I should be that person. Arg, isn't it easier just to go dutch?! Haha.

Things I appreciate more from the US

1. Immigrants!!!!! I love Immigrants!!!! Immigrants are the reason I can eat a Greek breakfast, Japanese lunch and Ethiopian dinner. You don't know what I'd do for a piece of fresh bread from a La Shish-type Middle Eastern restaurant right now. Immigrants are also the reason you don't see people yelling, staring or taking pictures of foreigners on the street (something I find really annoying here). Last, immigrants are the reason I can talk eloquently about Islam, as well as many other religions are cultures, and frankly it has eased my culture shock. So Arizona, WHATS WRONG WITH YOU?!?! haha

2. 2% milk (I thought it was quite apt to make this #2 haha). I can't find it here. It makes me mad because I only drink 2% because it is DELICIOUS. Oh well, I guess I will have to stick to tea for now.

3. As previously mention, Michigan's particular blend of ethnic food. Its really quite good, and the middle eastern food is much more authentic than the skinny meat-skimpy "kebab" here that is doused in mayonnaise. I hope all of you in Michigan are adventurous enough to eat it.

4. No squat toilets. They really do scare me, haha, and aiming is not something a girl is used to doing.

5. Fluoridated, drinkable tap water. No fear of bowel trauma in the US (unless you're Mexican), just white, shiny teeth.

6. Barbeque ribs. No pork in Indonesia, so no ribs :(. If Indonesians wanted to, they could use beef but I haven't seen it.

7. Makeup. You can buy makeup, but I don't see too many teenagers wearing it, so I've tried to avoid it.

8. No call-to-prayer. This is probably more of a downside of the US for Muslims, but as a non-Muslim, I do enjoy uninterrupted sleep haha.

I'm Scared of Fish

When I list my biggest fears; public speaking, premature death, dead animals, running out of gas in the middle of the desert, losing good friends, and squat toilets; eating fish always ends up at the very top. It's become pretty severe. After all, I will speak in front of the public if I have to (on occasion I even volunteer), I use squat toilets when there is no other option, and anyone who uses Ojeg on a regular basis can't fear premature death too much, but I can't even seem to get a forkful of fish into my mouth. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe it's because fish stare at me when they are dead (that really plays into my fear of dead animals). Maybe it's because crabs and lobsters resemble insects, and octopi and squid resemble worms. Maybe it's because on a trip to Mackinac Island I collected many beautiful crayfish claws only to find them full of maggots when I got back home. No matter how, the older I get, the harder it is for me to eat seafood. This wasn't a big deal in the US since seafood costs more than most people can afford, but I have run into a problem here in the land of the 50-cent lunch. I've been served fish four times now. The first time was in Jakarta at a fast-breaking party. I picked up a piece of squid, bit halfway down, gagged because of the texture, and consequently hid it under my rice. The second time, it was my only option other than rice and vegetables, and I was able to swallow down a little by dousing it in excessive amounts of ketchup and chasing it down with a mouthful of rice. That way, I could avoid both taste and texture. I was shocked the third time: I thought I'd ordered chicken, so when the waiter plopped a huge fish in front of me, I got the same feeling as I get when I've failed a major test in school. To my relief, it was a family-style restaurant, so I did get my chicken after all. The only reason they put the fish in front of me was because there was space. Tonight, I was offered fish again, which is why I felt I needed to write this blog. Even though I ended up eating chicken, I found nothing scarier than to see that my family had ordered almost all seafood dishes. I just hope I've managed not to offend my host family in this respect. Hmm...not a very profound mini-blog entry, but I hope you enjoyed it.

Settling Down in Bandung

Since my last blog post (which I originally wrote about a week before I posted it haha), some things have changed: I've started school, registered for my KITAS card (resident alien card), went to a couple fast-breaking parties, met the other exchange student in Bandung, rode Angkot (public transit) and Ojeg/Ojek (motor cycle taxi), met with a representative from the US Embassy, said good bye to Dhimas' (my host brother) host family, etc.


Early on, I rode Angkot and Ojeg after shopping with my host sister at a few of Bandung's factory outlets. Angkot are small, multicolored (but usually green) vans with benches. They are MUCH smaller than subways, light-rail, or buses in the US. In fact, they are made to seat about ten people (in reality you can squeeze about sixteen people in one) and make you feel as if you've been packed tightly in a suitcase. Soon, I hope I can ride Angkot on my own so I can have a little more freedom to move around Bandung :). Ojeg is terrifying for someone new to motorcycles and Indonesian traffic: the driver swerves to avoid cars, hits bumps that make feel as if you are slipping off, and makes quick turns on wet pavement. Not my idea of safe, but if it will take me from point A to point B, I think it's worth it.



I also met Ricarda, the exchange student from Germany, recently. She goes to SMAN 5, a high school that shares a building with my school, SMAN 3. we met at the oh-so-entertaining Immigration Office, although her visit there was a lot smoother than mine (as it turns out, I was missing my Departure Card which meant yet another visit to Bandung's scenic Immigration before I could get fingerprinted and photographed).

As for the the fast-breaking parties, I've been to two--both of which were a little overwhelming. The first one, for AFS, was also kind of a welcoming party for Ricarda and me....which meant public speaking!! Ah! As nervous as I was speaking about myself (part of which was in Bahasa Indonesia) in front of the returnees (former exchange students) and volunteers, all went well. I guess it pays off to always keep a few American gifts (rubber animal bracelets, some Burts Bee's chapstick and t-shirts with american slogans) on hand to throw out too the crowd haha. The other fast-breaking event was at my school. It was my first time visiting my school and I was able to meet some of my future classmates and make some more friends. Later on, I encountered another strange cultural difference: a group of high school students leave the crowd at night, go through a kind of seedy-looking alley and enter a dimly-lit room. Are they...

A. Doing something illegal
B. Selling something illegal
C. Buying something illegal
D. Praying

If you answered “D” you would be correct. As it turns out the dimly-lit room is a musholla (prayer house), something you can find all over the city including Mcdonald's. I found this funny since I can imagine a American parent seeing something like this and starting up a neighborhood watch program.

Now, I officially attend the prestigious SMAN 3, major in social sciences, and wear an oh-so-stylish uniform that consists of a blue-grey, floor-length skirt and a white, long sleeve shirt with a name patch, “SMAN 3” and the iconic OSIS patch seen on all Indonesian school uniforms. Indonesians don't have moving classes, so monday through friday I sit in the same classroom with sixteen other social science majors and struggle to understand some of what the teachers are saying. I take classes like computer programming, German, Bahasa Indonesia, Sundanese (the local language here in Bandung), and music. I'm not so keen on music so far because it means the other students get to hear my oh-so-lovely singing voice. Right now, I am on break for Idul Fitri (the celebration after Ramadhan), so I don't get to go back to school until mid-september.

The home-sickness is getting much better, although every once in a while a painful memory pops up. Otherwise, life is pretty ordinary in Bandung. I hope I can make more friends and ultimately visit more fun places. Anyway, that's it for now, hope this wasn't too long for you.

First Days In indonesia

Hey, so welcome to the first entry of my blog. I was thinking about making a video blog, but it seems my camera isn't working all too well....hopefully I'll get that taken care of so I can take pictures and what not. Anyway, This is my first week in Indonesia. Earlier this week I flew into Jakarta via Taipei and Kuala Lumpur (or Lumpy Koala as dad calls it). While I was still technically in the US, I had my first taste of the Asia I've come to know in the Los Angeles Airport: all around me people were speaking in languages I couldn't understand, and after waiting a while, I realized I was one of only a few non-asians waiting in the terminal. My flight ended up being extremely long, including an unexpected three hour wait in Taipei, complete with Harajuku girls and public showers. Unfortunately, I couldn't take a shower because I forgot to bring a towel in my carry-on. I should have listened to Ford Prefect's advice: Never forget your Towel! I saw an entertainingly cheesy safety video on Malaysia Airlines: It had a stewardess dressed in traditional Malaysian clothes. The actress must have been speaking Bahasa Melayu, but to make the video more international, her voice was dubbed over with over thickly-accented British English . Malaysia Airlines may have cheesy videos, but it is that it has GREAT FOOD!!! With every flight (even short ones like Kuala Lumpur to Jakarta) they give you Malaysian TV-dinners that are quite good. It's a welcome change from paying three dollars for a "fun-sized" box of Pringles on US Airways.


Eventually, I made it to Jakarta...my back hurt, I was overwhelmed and I accidentally paid for an uneeded visa on arrival which I then had to get refunded. On the way out, the customs officials were all crowded around (apparently talking about me). "Do you have a boyfriend?" One asked me, "because if you don't, he thinks your pretty, and needs a girlfriend." Great. My first day in the country and I get hit on. Finally, I grabbed my bags and squeezed into the van that would take me to the Bina Antarbudaya (the Indonesian AFS affiliate) office. As the driver whipped her way through traffic, I kept thinking “Wow, Indonesia is a lot like Mexico!” The buildings, the plants, the heat, the people and the way they dressed, even the language reminded me of Mexico. Obviously, there were plenty of differences, like the jilbabs (Islamic head scarves) you see many women wearing on the street, and the traffic--traffic here is so heavy that Jakartans have to learn an aggressive, near-accident-enducing driving-style. Did I mention they don't wear seat belts either? After that ride, it was clear why AFS students are not allowed to drive and have extensive health insurance.

At the office, I was shown how to shower the Indonesian way...by filling a a bucket with water and pouring it over yourself. It's a bit bracing, but I think I should get used to it, especially since my host family has hot water (Bandung has a reputation for being "cold"). That night, I was invited to a fast-breaking celebration, which was a bit overwhelming since many people wanted to talk to me, and most of the time I didn't know what to do, since I have a pretty poor command of Bahasa Indonesia at this point. I ended up at a mall after sleeping through the ride back from the party. It was fairly similar to the ones in the US except much bigger. However, we left fairly early because I was dozing off while sitting up at a restaurant. As we left, the power went out--something that apparently has never happened to the Indonesian volunteers before.

A day later my host family and my host brother's former host family (he went to the Netherlands and his host family was visiting at that point). We went to a Padang restaurant and I promptly fell asleep once we got home in Bandung.

I'm starting to notice cultural differences, one of which is dry vs. wet clean: In the USA, people like to be dry, dry is clean. We try to keep our bathrooms as dry as possible, we wipe our hands with napkins and use toilet paper. In Indonesia, wet is clean. You'll find sinks and finger bowls at restaurants to clean your hands, bathrooms are always wet, and toilets have bidets, hoses or buckets to clean yourself off. Another cultural difference is waking time. Indonesians wake up early, especially now, during Ramadan. Prayers are recited over megaphone at the local mosques make it hard to stay asleep in the wee hours of the morning.

I am worried about a few things: that it will be hard for me to learn Bahasa Indonesia since most people in my host family speak English and they are very busy during the week, leaving me with a lot of alone time. Because of this, I am also a little worried about getting homesick, or rather, boyfriend-sick. Every time I end up with time to think to myself, I end up thinking about my boyfriend, Macsen, and how I won't be able to see him for a year. I get more upset over this than over missing my family because I always know my family will be there when I get back. I will end up spending time with them throughout my life even if I don't see them now. I am worried Macsen will not always be in my life and that this year will cause us to grow apart. I have the same concerns about many of my great friends that I have made in the US. I will end on light note: my mom has just made some delicious fries for me to eat :).