There was turkey. There was karaoke. There were mangoes. And there was family. The actual turkey day itself did not include turkey but, instead, home-made Indonesian snacks. This was not because it was Thanksgiving – I sort of kept that on the dl this year – but because I was too busy until then to take a teacher up on her offer to cook with her. On Thursday I went after class to Bu Nina’s house and made some sweet corn pudding, bread empanada things and mango salad. No pictures – sorry. Bu Nina, the teacher who refers to herself as my second mom, and I ate as we talked about her Chinese grandmother who taught her how to cook and the four members of her family who have gotten cancer. It was sad but it was nice to be let into her life so much. She is one of the most tirelessly energetic teachers at my school, which is a good thing because she’s always cooking for everyone, inviting me to things and so on. She’s very sweet. I’m often reminded of people back home by the people I meet here, whether by their personality or features. Bu Nina's energy and mannerisms remind me of my friend/music teacher back in the old Athens.
I wasn’t thinking about Thanksgiving too much that day until sometime that afternoon while we were talking about cancer and watching some boys around Bu Nina’s neighborhood play football. My beloved counter-part then texted me: “Happy Thanksgiving day,,,,,!!!! Thanks for being the best part of my teaching experience in my life,,,,,ever,,,,,,We hafta celebrate together ,,,,,tomorrow is “Karaoke Time”,,,”
This set off a long train of thoughts as I walked home later that evening with a backdrop of ominous rain clouds. I am really thankful for this experience. I know I complain sometimes about difficult counterparts and integration woes, but those are such small blips on the canvas of this time. I don’t think it’s necessarily important to travel the world in your lifetime but I do think it’s vitally important, for me at least, to cross cultural boundaries. When I look back on this time I hope that I will remember how every thought and action felt like a beginning. I do get caught up in myself too much sometimes but I’m grateful for the moments of wide-eyed wonder and possibilities in the world around me.
I’m thankful for the hundreds of times a day I feel the support and love of my family back home and here. With them in my mind, I see the world through better eyes and have better thoughts. I carry you with me, I carry your hearts….
I was also thinking yesterday about the kids at the front of my neighborhood and how, at first, it was all “look at your skin and look at mine” but now that we’re past the initial shock they are just sweet and enthusiastic to spend time together, which to me feels like unconditional love. They call out to me every day to stop and look at a baby or a cat, then they crowd around and want to know every little thing about where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing that day and after all that they want to play. Not everyone will take notice of you as a person (though they will certainly notice any differences they see between them and your outer person) and it can make you feel a bit disconnected and lonely. I’ve been feeling that a bit with the older members of my host family lately, like I’m just a friendly presence who sits in the same room as them sometimes and bugs them with mundane questions. But with the teachers at my school and the kids in my neighborhood, it’s a readily-inclusive environment that blows away some of my insecurities and doubts about fitting in here.
On that note, I’m also glad to be more aware of things like my standard of living. You think you’d be willing to change most things about yourself to integrate with a place but there are still things like food, cleanliness and that happy medium between personal space and feeling part of a community that I’ve realized I might not be willing to change, while it’s still in my power of control. But realizing these small consistencies you require makes you more aware of all else that is transient and non-essential to your life. Every time I travel that second list grows longer.
So, Friday was karaoke day. I went to a karaoke bar with my counterpart and a different teacher and sang “Sakitnya tu di sini”, the hot song of the moment and saw my first Agnes Monica music video (she’s like the Lady Gaga of Indonesia). My fellow teachers remarked that they know more Western music than I do, which was proven to be true. Granted, my counter-part picked hard rock songs and recent pop music like Bruno Mars and Justin Bieber but I know deep down that there is truth to her claim.
On Saturday I went to Jakarta for Thanksgiving lunch at the US Ambassador’s small palace. It was pretty suave. We were ID-ed at the front gate by security and I’m glad my photo-copied passport made the cut. The Ambassador is tall and has a dog named Ciera. As soon as he finished his speech welcoming us all (the Fullbrights, other employees from the Embassy and us Peace Corps staff and volunteers) we attacked that spread like a pack of ravenous dogs. My first moment of transcendence happened as I ate the one and only piece of pumpkin pie I could get my hands on. My second moment of transcendence of the weekend occurred when I took a hot shower at the hostel.
I’m sure it wasn’t standard protocol for guests of the Ambassador but we utilized his trampoline and ping pong table as we digested the delicious memories of lunch. After this, many of the PC people headed back to the hostel. The hostel is run by an Indonesian lady and her Australian husband. They have lived in Europe some and she has a distinctive Australian accent and wore t-shirts that said things like “I love England”. It was obviously very frequented by Peace Corps volunteers because she showed her appreciation for our faithful business by providing us with a very cheap bar-b-que dinner on the rooftop garden. The environment had all the elements in place for a good night - AWESOME food (real hamburgers guys – real salad with lettuce too), drink, good company, music, so most people stayed there all night instead of going out, which was great because the weather was drab and drizzly.
These are in no particular order:
Some artwork at a hotel I met some other volunteers at before the banquet.
I wasn’t thinking about Thanksgiving too much that day until sometime that afternoon while we were talking about cancer and watching some boys around Bu Nina’s neighborhood play football. My beloved counter-part then texted me: “Happy Thanksgiving day,,,,,!!!! Thanks for being the best part of my teaching experience in my life,,,,,ever,,,,,,We hafta celebrate together ,,,,,tomorrow is “Karaoke Time”,,,”
This set off a long train of thoughts as I walked home later that evening with a backdrop of ominous rain clouds. I am really thankful for this experience. I know I complain sometimes about difficult counterparts and integration woes, but those are such small blips on the canvas of this time. I don’t think it’s necessarily important to travel the world in your lifetime but I do think it’s vitally important, for me at least, to cross cultural boundaries. When I look back on this time I hope that I will remember how every thought and action felt like a beginning. I do get caught up in myself too much sometimes but I’m grateful for the moments of wide-eyed wonder and possibilities in the world around me.
I’m thankful for the hundreds of times a day I feel the support and love of my family back home and here. With them in my mind, I see the world through better eyes and have better thoughts. I carry you with me, I carry your hearts….
I was also thinking yesterday about the kids at the front of my neighborhood and how, at first, it was all “look at your skin and look at mine” but now that we’re past the initial shock they are just sweet and enthusiastic to spend time together, which to me feels like unconditional love. They call out to me every day to stop and look at a baby or a cat, then they crowd around and want to know every little thing about where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing that day and after all that they want to play. Not everyone will take notice of you as a person (though they will certainly notice any differences they see between them and your outer person) and it can make you feel a bit disconnected and lonely. I’ve been feeling that a bit with the older members of my host family lately, like I’m just a friendly presence who sits in the same room as them sometimes and bugs them with mundane questions. But with the teachers at my school and the kids in my neighborhood, it’s a readily-inclusive environment that blows away some of my insecurities and doubts about fitting in here.
Today, spending time with my BFFs.
They were making a flower maze.
On that note, I’m also glad to be more aware of things like my standard of living. You think you’d be willing to change most things about yourself to integrate with a place but there are still things like food, cleanliness and that happy medium between personal space and feeling part of a community that I’ve realized I might not be willing to change, while it’s still in my power of control. But realizing these small consistencies you require makes you more aware of all else that is transient and non-essential to your life. Every time I travel that second list grows longer.
So, Friday was karaoke day. I went to a karaoke bar with my counterpart and a different teacher and sang “Sakitnya tu di sini”, the hot song of the moment and saw my first Agnes Monica music video (she’s like the Lady Gaga of Indonesia). My fellow teachers remarked that they know more Western music than I do, which was proven to be true. Granted, my counter-part picked hard rock songs and recent pop music like Bruno Mars and Justin Bieber but I know deep down that there is truth to her claim.
On Saturday I went to Jakarta for Thanksgiving lunch at the US Ambassador’s small palace. It was pretty suave. We were ID-ed at the front gate by security and I’m glad my photo-copied passport made the cut. The Ambassador is tall and has a dog named Ciera. As soon as he finished his speech welcoming us all (the Fullbrights, other employees from the Embassy and us Peace Corps staff and volunteers) we attacked that spread like a pack of ravenous dogs. My first moment of transcendence happened as I ate the one and only piece of pumpkin pie I could get my hands on. My second moment of transcendence of the weekend occurred when I took a hot shower at the hostel.
I’m sure it wasn’t standard protocol for guests of the Ambassador but we utilized his trampoline and ping pong table as we digested the delicious memories of lunch. After this, many of the PC people headed back to the hostel. The hostel is run by an Indonesian lady and her Australian husband. They have lived in Europe some and she has a distinctive Australian accent and wore t-shirts that said things like “I love England”. It was obviously very frequented by Peace Corps volunteers because she showed her appreciation for our faithful business by providing us with a very cheap bar-b-que dinner on the rooftop garden. The environment had all the elements in place for a good night - AWESOME food (real hamburgers guys – real salad with lettuce too), drink, good company, music, so most people stayed there all night instead of going out, which was great because the weather was drab and drizzly.
These are in no particular order:
The ambassador's backyard, complete with trampoline, gazebo and badminton court. Not pictured: a pool and gardens.
On Sunday night when I returned from Jakarta my fam and I shared some mangos. Umi cuts off pieces and hands them out. Everyone gets one before she starts again. We went through two mangos.
One last look at the pumpkin pie in all its glory.
