Sundanese Weddings

A small, quiet wedding is not something known to Indonesians. Weddings are a packed, glittering, and colorful. In Sunda, West Java, The Bride dresses in a Kebaya (a tight sheer-shirt covered in appliqués), and an elaborate headdress made of jewels. Everyone in the wedding party wears a batik sarungs. The Bride and groom walk out under an umbrella and sit at the front along with their parents. The parents then feed their children as a the last act as parents before they give up their children to their spouses. Next, an old, wise man leads the ceremony, and out comes a procession of fairies, peacocks, and warriors to help the new couple. The ceremony ends with photographs and the reception starts with guests lining up to thank and shake hands with the bride, groom and parents.

Sometimes, Western elements are added to the ceremony: the bride tosses a bouquet, a band plays "Fly me to the Moon" and of course there is a big, white wedding cake. At one ceremony, I was one of these western additions. One of my friends and his family were hired as the entertainment and they invited me along. When I arrived, I was shuffled into the dressing room where women in peacock and fairy costumes dressed me in a kebaya and the wedding singer did my hair. A little while later, I found myself sitting on a small stage singing in Sundanese. Some how they had convinced a girl known for her off-key, incomplete rendition of "the Star-spangled Banner" to sing in a language she knew 5 phrases in.

Later, the actual ceremony began. Our old, wise man was about 13 years old, yet his bent-over, wide stance and arm behind his back made him a believeable 70. By the end of the ceremony, I found my self getting a photo with the whole wedding party.

Eliza Gets Lost: the Remake

When I first arrived in Indonesia, the thought of getting lost scared the crap out of me.... especially the thought of getting lost in a big crowded city where I not only didn't know the language, but didn't even know how to cross the street without getting hit by a car. Now the sensation is at worst, annoyance, and at best, adventure.This Tuesday I, once again, took the wrong Angkot.

School ended early that day for one reason or another, and left me with three hours to spare before my driver could pick me up. Impatient, I took on a mission: get home on my own--by Angkot! While I knew the route to my old house down to each pot hole in the torn-up roads of Antapani neighborhood, I had yet to take Angkot to my new house. For the most part, I'd traded the bumps and heat of the Angkot clown-cars for comfort and conversation of my new host family's air-conditioned SUV manned by our driver, Pak Anto. I'd learned the route from Ricarda's family a few weeks before when we planned to visit my neighborhood (long story short we didn't really feel like taking Angkot, so when we found a free taxi we took the opportunity)--take the cream-colored Antapani-Ciroyom Angkot until you hit Istana Plaza (one of Bandung's many malls), then get on to the light-blue Stasion Sarijadi.

Everything goes as planned with Antapani--I get on, ride until I see a Sarijadi angkot, then yell "KIRI!!!" to stop it....except I didn't stop at Istana Plaza. Instead I stop at a fork in the road not knowing that some of the Sarijadi Angkots are going one way, and some are going the other. Inadvertently, I take the wrong direction. I end up in a strange neighborhood with a traditional-style market. On one side, I see people crowding to buy fruit, toys and t-shirts, on the other side I see one of the weirder things I've seen since I've lived in Indonesia: A wall of hair...or rather, hair extensions. The last time I'd seen a site like that was in an equally scary and crowded discount store in Texas.

Eventually, I make it to the Angkot station where I see at least 40 parked buses and at least 10 gawking Indonesians. I guess bules don't make to the Angkot station very often haha. There I changed buses to one going the right direction, where after 15 minutes, I found myself at my original intersection going the right direction. For 4000 Rupiah (approx. 40 cents), it was an adventure.

Annoying Questions

I know its been a very long time since I last posted, so I thought I'd start off with a funny post about the most annoying questions Indonesians ask.

1. Can I take a photo with you?
If you are white and live in Indonesia, you hear this a lot. Indonesians love to take photos. Indonesians love to interact with exotic, white foreigners. Naturally Indonesians want combine these two loves by documenting every close encounter of the Bule kind with their cameras. Imagine all the harassment of celebrity without all that pesky fame. Some days you just feel like pretending you don't speak English or Indonesian. Next time I think I will try "je ne comprend pas."

2. Where have you been in Bandung?
This question is annoyingly open-ended. I've lived in Indonesia for other six months, do they really expect me to rattle off every place I've been? Usually I just answer banyak tempat (many places) or say I've been to Tangkuban Perahu (Bandung's nearest active volcano, one of the main tourist attractions) and all of Bandung's many malls.

3. What is your favorite food in Indonesia?/What Indonesian food have you tried?
The main reason I find these questions annoying is just because I hear them whenever I meet someone knew and in every interview. It doesn't matter what setting or occasion, someone will ask that. Its usually the third question an Indonesian asks you when you meet them (right after "Where are you from?" and "How long have you been here?"). The latter question especially bothers me because its also extremely open-ended and even a little insulting: after 6 months do they assume I've only had enough Indonesian food to put on short list? I eat it everyday >:(

4. How about.....?
I've discovered a big flaw in the way Indonesians are taught English: Teachers don't distinguish that "how about...." is a follow up question and not a leading one. As a result, I'm stuck puzzling the meanings of like "How about the USA?" or "How about your mother?" HELP ME! WHAT ABOUT THEM?! I REALLY DON'T KNOW!

5. Why do like Indonesia?
Indonesians are generally up-beat, optimistic people, but occasionally you'll get a pessimistic one. These are the people who ask me this rare follow up question to "why did you choose to come to Indonesia?" There is a lot to love about this country and its frustrating to have to explain it all to someone who has experienced it all their life. Indonesia may be crowded, dirty and smelly (and a bit corrupt), but its still beautiful, has great weather, tons to do, and low crime. I wish I could say the same for Detroit...

6. Aren't you afraid of terrorists?
Ugh. Just ugh. This question, along with its buddy, "What do you think of Muslims in Indonesia," just pisses me off (sorry, that's very unprofessional for me to say). The reason Indonesians ask is because the Indian movie, My Name is Khan, is very popular here. Its a good movie, but causes some problems for an Indonesian audience made up mostly of people who haven't lived the US. Indonesians often ask me if the US is "really like My Name is Khan" and I think thats where they get the stereotype that Americans are anti-muslim. Anyway, NOT ALL AMERICANS HATE MUSLIMS! I will admit there are a few who do, but they represent a small segment of Americans, not the majority. I'd also just like to say that thinking all/most Americans hate Muslims because a small portion do is just as bad as thinking that all Muslims are terrorists because a small portion of them are.


7. Are you going to Church on Sunday?
I'm not Christian. I'm not Muslim. I'm not atheist. I'm agnostic. This one is not so much annoying as it is awkward and confusing. Indonesia is a deeply religious country, and to many Indonesians, not having a religion is just not in their paradigm*. Usually this question leads to a frustrating, broken conversation about how I don't pray, I'm not looking for a religion and neither believe in a God nor believe God doesn't exist. I just don't have the vocabulary yet to explain these things in my second language.

8. Are there beggars in the US?
Unfortunately, the US does not have all the answers and its not the pristine country its sometimes made out to be. There are people just as poor in the US as the beggars of Indonesia. I guess the only reason this question bothers me is because it shows how much Indonesians put the US on a pedestal. I wish they could see the US in a more realistic light.

9. Do you have a boyfriend?
You know this question doesn't lead anywhere nice. One of the "joys" of being a white girl in Indonesia is this question on a twice-weekly basis.

Do you have a boyfriend in Indonesia?
*facepalms* Why should this matter? I have a boyfriend and even though he lives in the US, I refuse to cheat on him in Indonesia.

Anyway. After my rant, I figure I should lighten the mood a little with some a question I wish more people would ask:

What is your favorite word in Indonesian?
Instead of the open-ended "What do you know in Bahasa," I'd love to hear this alternative.. My favorite word means "butterflies." The word for "butterfly" (singular) in Indonesian is kupu-kupu. The way you pluralize words in Indonesian is to repeat them. Can you see where this is going? The word for "butterflies" (plural) is Kupu-kupu-kupu-kupu. can you say that word 5 times without loosing count?

*Sometimes when I tell people I don't have a religion they ask me "then how do you pray?"

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

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.

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 :)

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.

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.