September 23
The first day of class went well. I couldn’t get the computer to work and had to bullshit my way through A LOT of the class, but from what I hear about teaching, that’s just about par for the course.
Last night I got my first taste of STMJ. It may sound like a street drug, but it’s actually a mixture of milk, egg, honey and ginger. It’s amazingly delicious. It reminded me of really gingery eggnog. It was great drinking it sitting outside in the hustle and bustle and heat of Malang, but I couldn’t help letting my mind wander to icy cold memories and how nice it would be drinking it in the dead of winter. Well – that’s not going to happen any time soon!
Today was a much needed Al Pal hermit kind of day. Two of my roommates went down to Surabaya to attend a wedding, and my other roommate had to work, so I had the whole house all to myself. It was heaven. Who else would spend their whole Saturday in a new exotic town holed up being all quiet and alone and love it? I have my public moments but I sure do love being my loner self. As a result I don’t really have much to write about, but I will share with you the delight of sitting on the small patch of green in “the backyard” at dusk, playing guitar in the warm evening air. Lovely.
September 24, 2012
On Sunday I went to a Welshman’s wedding reception. Darren, the head teacher here got married in Surabaya on Saturday, and the bride and groom came up to Malang for a reception on Sunday. It was certainly a neat thing to attend, but as it was a Muslim wedding, it was, by far, the driest and therefore most tame wedding reception I have ever attended. I suppose we made up for it later that night when we had the goodbye party for one of the teachers. Luckily the party was at the other teacher house about a block and a half away, so it was easy to stumble home.
So I’m finally getting to live the college life I never did when I was actually in college. Dinner last night was instant noodles and carrot sticks, dinner two nights ago was peanuts, an apple, chips and salsa and whiskey. I am such a healthy eater but it’s been a huge challenge here, between my schedule (not getting out of school until 9pm), the limited kitchen at the house, and not having access to many of my “go to” healthy items at the grocery store, it’s a struggle to eat well. Especially when all the street stalls sell fried rice for a dollar and the biggest section in almost every grocery store is the cookie isle.
So the slight throat irritation that I was hoping was just a result of the dry air and burning trash has blossomed into a full-blown chest cold. Which is AWESOME for teaching (that’s the sarcasm font if any of you hadn’t noticed). Physically I feel fine, it’s just difficult to talk and take deep breaths. Again, AWESOME for teaching. Luckily I get out of class at 7:30 tonight, so it’s a shorter day than usual. And there’s no shortage of chicken soup, aka chicken-flavored ramen.
On a final note, completely unrelated to Indonesia, the new Mumford & Sons album is fantastic. Two of my most favorite musicians are M&S and Paul Simon, and their cover of The Boxer is pure, dead brilliant. The amazing things that music can do – this album has actually helped me settle into being here and appreciate my life right now for what it is and where I am, not just geographically but emotionally too.
September 27th, 2012
One of the nice things about working at EF is that the teachers have a lot of freedom to teach however they like. This can be a double-edged sword when you first start out though, because there are SO MANY resources available, and it’s a bit overwhelming to pick and choose through all of them. There is a big database of language games to play, and it’s often fun to play a game as a warm-up in class to get them focused and thinking in English. So for one of my classes yesterday I stumbled on a game where the teacher chooses a song, writes words from that song on pieces of paper, and tapes the pieces of paper to the board. Students break into two groups and form two lines, and the two students at the front of the lines listen for the words that are taped up on the board. When they hear the word, the run up and grab it, and then go to the back of the line. When all the words have been grabbed, the team with the most pieces of paper wins! So I looked through the giant database of songs, most of which are kids songs that weren’t going to work with my 17-19 year-olds. Playing games to the tune of Old MacDonald isn’t really what you want to be doing when you’re in high school. So imagine my joy when buried in the list of songs at EF was The Clash’s “Should I Stay Or Should I Go.” Not only is it a great song to use for the activity, but it’s The Clash. And I’m pleased to note that it worked fantastically and the students loved it!
My other news of note is that I now am proud, card-carrying owner of a shiny new bank account here! That’s right, my hard-earned teacher’s pay is now being deposited in some bank down the street that I can’t remember the name of. One of the women who works at EF (the one on charge of all the teacher stuff) took me to the bank yesterday and opened up an account for me. I have a pretty new debit card too (it’s got that new bank account smell to it!), and as all the instructions at the ATM machines are in Bahasa, we’ll see how long it takes me randomly poking at buttons on the ATM machine to break it or get arrested.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
How sweet it is
Sugar. There is so much sugar in everything here. Every beverage automatically comes with about a tablespoon of sugar in it. One of my first words of Bahasa was “tawar,” which means “plain.” If you order a coffee or tea, it’s assumed that you want a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar in it unless you specify otherwise. I picked up some “plain” yogurt drink the other day expecting a tangy mouthful of the plain kefir I know and love, and was instead assaulted but a bitch slap of sweet. Since I arrived here I’ve been on the prowl for natural peanut butter – or anything without hydrogenated vegetable oils in it – and finally found one without, but guess what it does have? A ton of sugar. It tastes like the insides of Reese’s pieces. All peanut butter needs to be is smashed up peanuts! Peanuts abound here, but it’s nigh impossible to find good peanut butter. I think I may invest in a mortar and pestle and make my own.
School is going well, though sitting through observations was a bit tedious until I remembered my high school and college training. I’m a terrible “sit there and listen” learner, terrible. The first two days of observation were illuminating and no doubt helpful, but I was exhausted by the end of the day from trying to focus and concentrate on everything that was happening. Then I recalled my days of higher education and my strategies for coping with lectures. Luckily EF had given me a little notebook to take notes in, and this became my savior yesterday as I was able to observe classes and “take notes,” which consisted of a note to my nephew, a note of a shopping list, a note of blog topics, and finally a note tallying how many words of Bahasa I could remember. 64 words! Not too shabby. I was able to get the gist of what the class was doing without exhausting myself by trying to pay attention, and was thereby able to stay up past 9:30 last night! I still woke up around 6:30, but that seems to be my thing in warm, bright countries. We’re close to the equator, so there’s really not much of a change in daylight throughout the year. It’s pretty much equal amounts of day and night, rising and setting right about at the 5:30 mark. It takes a bit of getting used to, especially because it “feels” like summer, so when the sun sets, my body has been assuming it must be 8 or 9 at night, so two hours later I start getting the biological signals to call it a day. Unfortunately that means it’s only around 7:30/8:00 here. Ah well, it’ll kick in eventually.
Walking home last night, my roommate and I were stopped by a group of four young women on motorbikes (I love this as the start to a story). Evidentially, one of the local universities often gives out an assignment to “go out and interview a foreigner.” My roommate said it happens a lot. These poor girls had been riding around for 6 hours looking for foreigners to interview! Of course me, I'm always happy to oblige. What? Talk about myself? Why certainly!
I can scarcely believe that I’ve only been gone a week. Time is an odd, odd thing.
Smooches you lucky readers with easy access to natural peanut butter and whole grain cereals!
School is going well, though sitting through observations was a bit tedious until I remembered my high school and college training. I’m a terrible “sit there and listen” learner, terrible. The first two days of observation were illuminating and no doubt helpful, but I was exhausted by the end of the day from trying to focus and concentrate on everything that was happening. Then I recalled my days of higher education and my strategies for coping with lectures. Luckily EF had given me a little notebook to take notes in, and this became my savior yesterday as I was able to observe classes and “take notes,” which consisted of a note to my nephew, a note of a shopping list, a note of blog topics, and finally a note tallying how many words of Bahasa I could remember. 64 words! Not too shabby. I was able to get the gist of what the class was doing without exhausting myself by trying to pay attention, and was thereby able to stay up past 9:30 last night! I still woke up around 6:30, but that seems to be my thing in warm, bright countries. We’re close to the equator, so there’s really not much of a change in daylight throughout the year. It’s pretty much equal amounts of day and night, rising and setting right about at the 5:30 mark. It takes a bit of getting used to, especially because it “feels” like summer, so when the sun sets, my body has been assuming it must be 8 or 9 at night, so two hours later I start getting the biological signals to call it a day. Unfortunately that means it’s only around 7:30/8:00 here. Ah well, it’ll kick in eventually.
Walking home last night, my roommate and I were stopped by a group of four young women on motorbikes (I love this as the start to a story). Evidentially, one of the local universities often gives out an assignment to “go out and interview a foreigner.” My roommate said it happens a lot. These poor girls had been riding around for 6 hours looking for foreigners to interview! Of course me, I'm always happy to oblige. What? Talk about myself? Why certainly!
I can scarcely believe that I’ve only been gone a week. Time is an odd, odd thing.
Smooches you lucky readers with easy access to natural peanut butter and whole grain cereals!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Photos! errrr,kind of.
Here are some photos of my house for the next year!
Ok so obviously my computer is having a little trouble palying nice with Blogger, but this will give you the basic idea. This i
s my bedroom, and next to it is the view looking out from my bedroom. To the right is the little courtyard. 
s my bedroom, and next to it is the view looking out from my bedroom. To the right is the little courtyard. 
I'll try to figure out the photo problem, but being horribly inept with technology, this may be the best it gets!
Baggage Update!
September 16th, 2012
In my last update I forgot to inform you all of the good news that my baggage and I were finally reunited! The bags got loaded on the flight out from Singapore to Surabaya after mine, and true to her word, the nice lady at Surabaya Airport baggage had my bags sent down to Malang yesterday morning. The bags must have been delivered to the school first, because two of the office boys showed up around 11am, and each had one of my bags in hand. And while it was thrilling to see both bags, I had to leap up on a bench in our front yard and peer over the fence into the back of the van to confirm that my guitar was also here. That’s when I was finally able to give the ultimate sigh of relief.
Today was blissfully uneventful. I finally fell asleep last night around 5:30am, so understandably, wasn’t up until around 11am. For lunch my roommate showed me around to some of the restaurants close by, and then we ate at a nice little shop where I got a plate of fried rice for a dollar. Now that’s the kind of prices I’m talking about! Then we headed home so I could rest some more. My bum luck seems to have rubbed off on one of my roommates, as he realized that he had lost his keys at some point the night before. This wouldn’t be so bad, since living with roommates gives him easy access to the house, but for safety reasons we are encouraged to lock our bedroom doors before going out. So he was locked out of his room all last night and most of today.
So tomorrow is the first day of school for me! This first week is just for orientation, so I won’t actually be teaching until next week, but I get to do exciting things this week like fill out paper work and learn the school’s computer system. I’ll also be able to drop in on some classes to scope out the other teachers and how they run their classrooms.
Right now the Muslim call to prayer is echoing over the neighborhood, which is really a very beautiful and haunting sound. I think there is one at about 5am as well, and I like it less at that hour.
In my last update I forgot to inform you all of the good news that my baggage and I were finally reunited! The bags got loaded on the flight out from Singapore to Surabaya after mine, and true to her word, the nice lady at Surabaya Airport baggage had my bags sent down to Malang yesterday morning. The bags must have been delivered to the school first, because two of the office boys showed up around 11am, and each had one of my bags in hand. And while it was thrilling to see both bags, I had to leap up on a bench in our front yard and peer over the fence into the back of the van to confirm that my guitar was also here. That’s when I was finally able to give the ultimate sigh of relief.
Today was blissfully uneventful. I finally fell asleep last night around 5:30am, so understandably, wasn’t up until around 11am. For lunch my roommate showed me around to some of the restaurants close by, and then we ate at a nice little shop where I got a plate of fried rice for a dollar. Now that’s the kind of prices I’m talking about! Then we headed home so I could rest some more. My bum luck seems to have rubbed off on one of my roommates, as he realized that he had lost his keys at some point the night before. This wouldn’t be so bad, since living with roommates gives him easy access to the house, but for safety reasons we are encouraged to lock our bedroom doors before going out. So he was locked out of his room all last night and most of today.
So tomorrow is the first day of school for me! This first week is just for orientation, so I won’t actually be teaching until next week, but I get to do exciting things this week like fill out paper work and learn the school’s computer system. I’ll also be able to drop in on some classes to scope out the other teachers and how they run their classrooms.
Right now the Muslim call to prayer is echoing over the neighborhood, which is really a very beautiful and haunting sound. I think there is one at about 5am as well, and I like it less at that hour.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
BIG POST!
September 13, 2012
Frankfurt airport. The gods of the airlines decided to send me a blessing after having harassed me all morning long – I had the whole row, the whole middle row, all to myself from JFK to Frankfurt! We’re talking 4 entire seats for my little self to enjoy. So while I’m still sleep-deprived and covered in airplane crud, at least I’m not too cramped and knotted up. Oh heavens being able to stretch out and lie down was so nice, especially after a day spent toting around a heavy backpack and a guitar.
So now I spend one hour of September 13th sitting in Frankfurt, and that’s all of September 13th that really exists for me this year. A major life event happened on September 13th several years back, but only one person reading this knows what it was, and I’m not even sure that the person remembers. I’m a little surprised I remember. It was a Friday the 13th, maybe that’s why I remember it. And who knew, many years later all I have of September 13th is one hour in the Frankfurt Airport.
I watched Dark Shadows on the way over. I wished I hadn’t. Who green-lighted that script? It was dreadful.
Here’s hoping the flight to Singapore is equally kind to me in the stretching out department!
September 14th, 2012
I’m here. I made it. My luggage did not.
September 15th, 2012
Oh friends, there is so much to write! I barely know where to begin.
I got back on the plane in Frankfurt, and was overwhelmed with joy when they announced that they were closing the cabin doors and all three seats next to me were once again empty! But the total elation was short-lived, as a woman from somewhere further up front had apparently asked if she could move to an empty seat somewhere else, and that empty seat she chose was the one at the end of my perfect row. I cursed her profusely (and profanely) in my head before reminding myself that I still had two entirely empty seats next to me and I really had absolutely nothing to complain about.
On that leg of the flight I watched Men In Black 3, which, much to my surprise, I highly enjoyed. Then I watched The Artist which, to my surprise, I didn’t much like. Finally I watched The Avengers, which, just as I expected, was well done and fun to watch. The food was too salty, but the booze was free, and I nursed quite a generous pour of whiskey through MIB 3. That certainly could have contributed to why I liked it so much…
So, yeah, the connection in Singapore. Remember how I had “just enough” time (according to the nice lady from Singapore Air) to collect my baggage, recheck it, and make it to my next flight? Let me tell you how that played out (cue mocking laughter). The flight into Singapore was 10 minutes late. Luckily, as I was going through the line for immigration in Singapore (you have to go through it to get to baggage claim) the officer realized my situation and advised me to go to the “transfer” desk back where I had come from. I found it and was able to get them to find and retag my bags. Good! I was then informed that my next flight was in a different terminal and I had about 10 minutes before they closed the flight. Not good. On top of that, the nice lady promised to put a rush on the bags, but realistically the chances were slim that the bags would make it. So not good. We know how that last part played out!
In the past few months I’ve taken up jogging. Sometimes I say “running,” but that’s just to make myself feel cool. But, to be honest, I can now “run” much better than I ever could before. This ability came in so handy right there in Changi Airport, when the tram to Terminal 2 opened up and I realized that my gate was at the very tail end of the terminal. I took a look at the departure screen, noted my gate, also noted the “gate closing” status, and took off running (actually running). The good news is that I made it, AND after 34 hours of sitting got a much needed workout. I arrived at the gate, covered in sweat, and just in time to make the flight.
I arrived in Surabaya, de-planed, headed through immigration (feeling fairly smug that I didn’t have to wait in the long “visa on arrival” line (I had to get a special long-term stay visa prior to arriving). I approached the baggage claim with a small glimmer of hope in my heart that was quickly dashed. No dice. And by no dice I mean no bags.
Fortunately the ladies at Surabaya baggage help were MUCH more awesome than the mentally challenged ones at JFK, and we’re extremely helpful. One woman even escorted me through customs and to the general receiving area where my ride was supposed to be waiting to take me to Malang. Guess who’s ride wasn’t there? Yep. So the awesome baggage lady too me BACK to her office and let me chill out while she called my contact numbers to find out where my ride was. How awesome is that!? Turns out my ride had gotten stuck in traffic and would be there momentarily. My bags, however, wouldn’t get there until 6pm that evening. But to add another awesome point to the good folk in the luggage department at the Surabaya airport, they promised to deliver it to me in Malang the next day. Super awesome, but it still didn’t change the fact that I had no luggage. And to top it all off, I thought I was being savvy by packing a change of clothes in with my guitar. I figured that the clothes would help give the guitar extra cushioning and it would give me a change of attire, just in case something crazy happened – you know, like my bags getting lost or something. Well, great idea – except that they made me gate check my guitar on the flight to Frankfurt. So I literally had no clothes but what I was wearing. But fortunately I actually felt pretty good. I’d been able to stretch out (somewhat) and sleep on the flight over, and I had enough foresight to pack a razor in my carry-on luggage, so I was able to have myself a nice shave in the airplane bathroom on route to Singapore (those of you who know me well know my obsession with shaving!). So I may have been dirty, but I was clean-shaven, and sometimes that’s all that matters…. When you’re Al Pal.
So we packed up my meager belongings and headed South, to Malang.
TO BE CONTINUED…
September 16th, 2012
Hello jet lag. I was exhausted and falling asleep at the bar tonight. Then I got home ready to pass out and I’ve been wide away ever since. Now it’s 3am and I’ve finally given up the quest for sleep.
Malang. To say “it’s going to be an adjustment” is a bit of an understatement. Ok, a whopping understatement. It’s not like I was picturing lavish accommodations and nectar flowing from springs in the ground and brightly colored birdr landing on my windowsill every morning to bring me fruit and sing me awake, but, to be perfectly honest, I find myself less than enthusiastic to be here. I keep telling myself that I just need to make the adjustment and adapt, and I know that has a huge dose of truth to it. There are a lot of teachers at the school who have been here for years – they love it, and I like to think that I will too, it’s just a little hard to imagine at this point. It’s a natural stage in adapting to such a new lifestyle, but usually there is a period of elation that is supposed to last from a week to two months before it dissolves into depression. And it’s not like I’m depressed, I’m just… numb I guess, and I feel a little slighted that I didn’t get my period of elation. Well, I never tend to do things the traditional way – maybe I get a month of depression, and THEN I get the elation and absolutely love it for the rest of my time here. I like to think so. I guess only time will tell.
Sorry to be a bit of a downer; there are some good things, too. I do like the house I’m in, there are four bedrooms, a common area and kitchen that are fully enclosed in a roughly square shape, but in the middle is an open air courtyard with a mango tree. It’s nice to step outside in the morning and be outside but still in my own house. One of the things I like that REALLY surprised me is their showing system. Some of you may recall my hesitation when I first heard about it – basically the bathroom is rectangle-shaped with the toilet at one end and a small waist-high basin at the other end. You fill up the basin with water and then use a scoop to wet yourself, then soap up and shave, and scoop-rinse yourself off. There is a hole in the floor for the water to drain off. I actually love bathing this way. Who knew? The weather is really nice too. I hear tell that it’s been a little hotter than usual the two days I’ve been here, but the nights are pleasantly cool and the mornings are just perfect. Today I ate my cereal in my little courtyard under the mango tree. There is a soccer field directly across the street from the house, and kids were playing a game. It was nice to hear their elated voices spilling over the walls of the house.
As for the not so good stuff, there are about a million ants. They are everywhere. I can’t say I mind all that much, I actually think it adds a certain rustic charm to the place, and hey – they ain’t spiders. But still they can be a little annoying. All the food has to wrapped up tightly, and I usually have to flick one or two off the toilet before sitting down. But the ants are saints compared to the mosquitos. There aren’t actually all that many mosquitoes, but it seems like every single damn one of them is on a personal quest to seek me out and drain me of every last drop of blood I have. There are no mosquito nets in the bedrooms. I asked why not. They said I wouldn’t need one as the mozzies aren’t that bad. The next day I woke up covered in bites. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m having a hard time sleeping tonight – every time I start to doze off, I hear one buzzing around my ear. I covered myself in bug spray, wrapped myself up in my thin sheet and dozed off for a few minutes, only to awake and find two bites on my face! Ugh – you fuckers! Hopefully they will eventually tire of my honeysuckle blood.
Hey, thrill of the day – I got to drink coffee that had been pooped out of civet’s butt. It was actually quite good.
Frankfurt airport. The gods of the airlines decided to send me a blessing after having harassed me all morning long – I had the whole row, the whole middle row, all to myself from JFK to Frankfurt! We’re talking 4 entire seats for my little self to enjoy. So while I’m still sleep-deprived and covered in airplane crud, at least I’m not too cramped and knotted up. Oh heavens being able to stretch out and lie down was so nice, especially after a day spent toting around a heavy backpack and a guitar.
So now I spend one hour of September 13th sitting in Frankfurt, and that’s all of September 13th that really exists for me this year. A major life event happened on September 13th several years back, but only one person reading this knows what it was, and I’m not even sure that the person remembers. I’m a little surprised I remember. It was a Friday the 13th, maybe that’s why I remember it. And who knew, many years later all I have of September 13th is one hour in the Frankfurt Airport.
I watched Dark Shadows on the way over. I wished I hadn’t. Who green-lighted that script? It was dreadful.
Here’s hoping the flight to Singapore is equally kind to me in the stretching out department!
September 14th, 2012
I’m here. I made it. My luggage did not.
September 15th, 2012
Oh friends, there is so much to write! I barely know where to begin.
I got back on the plane in Frankfurt, and was overwhelmed with joy when they announced that they were closing the cabin doors and all three seats next to me were once again empty! But the total elation was short-lived, as a woman from somewhere further up front had apparently asked if she could move to an empty seat somewhere else, and that empty seat she chose was the one at the end of my perfect row. I cursed her profusely (and profanely) in my head before reminding myself that I still had two entirely empty seats next to me and I really had absolutely nothing to complain about.
On that leg of the flight I watched Men In Black 3, which, much to my surprise, I highly enjoyed. Then I watched The Artist which, to my surprise, I didn’t much like. Finally I watched The Avengers, which, just as I expected, was well done and fun to watch. The food was too salty, but the booze was free, and I nursed quite a generous pour of whiskey through MIB 3. That certainly could have contributed to why I liked it so much…
So, yeah, the connection in Singapore. Remember how I had “just enough” time (according to the nice lady from Singapore Air) to collect my baggage, recheck it, and make it to my next flight? Let me tell you how that played out (cue mocking laughter). The flight into Singapore was 10 minutes late. Luckily, as I was going through the line for immigration in Singapore (you have to go through it to get to baggage claim) the officer realized my situation and advised me to go to the “transfer” desk back where I had come from. I found it and was able to get them to find and retag my bags. Good! I was then informed that my next flight was in a different terminal and I had about 10 minutes before they closed the flight. Not good. On top of that, the nice lady promised to put a rush on the bags, but realistically the chances were slim that the bags would make it. So not good. We know how that last part played out!
In the past few months I’ve taken up jogging. Sometimes I say “running,” but that’s just to make myself feel cool. But, to be honest, I can now “run” much better than I ever could before. This ability came in so handy right there in Changi Airport, when the tram to Terminal 2 opened up and I realized that my gate was at the very tail end of the terminal. I took a look at the departure screen, noted my gate, also noted the “gate closing” status, and took off running (actually running). The good news is that I made it, AND after 34 hours of sitting got a much needed workout. I arrived at the gate, covered in sweat, and just in time to make the flight.
I arrived in Surabaya, de-planed, headed through immigration (feeling fairly smug that I didn’t have to wait in the long “visa on arrival” line (I had to get a special long-term stay visa prior to arriving). I approached the baggage claim with a small glimmer of hope in my heart that was quickly dashed. No dice. And by no dice I mean no bags.
Fortunately the ladies at Surabaya baggage help were MUCH more awesome than the mentally challenged ones at JFK, and we’re extremely helpful. One woman even escorted me through customs and to the general receiving area where my ride was supposed to be waiting to take me to Malang. Guess who’s ride wasn’t there? Yep. So the awesome baggage lady too me BACK to her office and let me chill out while she called my contact numbers to find out where my ride was. How awesome is that!? Turns out my ride had gotten stuck in traffic and would be there momentarily. My bags, however, wouldn’t get there until 6pm that evening. But to add another awesome point to the good folk in the luggage department at the Surabaya airport, they promised to deliver it to me in Malang the next day. Super awesome, but it still didn’t change the fact that I had no luggage. And to top it all off, I thought I was being savvy by packing a change of clothes in with my guitar. I figured that the clothes would help give the guitar extra cushioning and it would give me a change of attire, just in case something crazy happened – you know, like my bags getting lost or something. Well, great idea – except that they made me gate check my guitar on the flight to Frankfurt. So I literally had no clothes but what I was wearing. But fortunately I actually felt pretty good. I’d been able to stretch out (somewhat) and sleep on the flight over, and I had enough foresight to pack a razor in my carry-on luggage, so I was able to have myself a nice shave in the airplane bathroom on route to Singapore (those of you who know me well know my obsession with shaving!). So I may have been dirty, but I was clean-shaven, and sometimes that’s all that matters…. When you’re Al Pal.
So we packed up my meager belongings and headed South, to Malang.
TO BE CONTINUED…
September 16th, 2012
Hello jet lag. I was exhausted and falling asleep at the bar tonight. Then I got home ready to pass out and I’ve been wide away ever since. Now it’s 3am and I’ve finally given up the quest for sleep.
Malang. To say “it’s going to be an adjustment” is a bit of an understatement. Ok, a whopping understatement. It’s not like I was picturing lavish accommodations and nectar flowing from springs in the ground and brightly colored birdr landing on my windowsill every morning to bring me fruit and sing me awake, but, to be perfectly honest, I find myself less than enthusiastic to be here. I keep telling myself that I just need to make the adjustment and adapt, and I know that has a huge dose of truth to it. There are a lot of teachers at the school who have been here for years – they love it, and I like to think that I will too, it’s just a little hard to imagine at this point. It’s a natural stage in adapting to such a new lifestyle, but usually there is a period of elation that is supposed to last from a week to two months before it dissolves into depression. And it’s not like I’m depressed, I’m just… numb I guess, and I feel a little slighted that I didn’t get my period of elation. Well, I never tend to do things the traditional way – maybe I get a month of depression, and THEN I get the elation and absolutely love it for the rest of my time here. I like to think so. I guess only time will tell.
Sorry to be a bit of a downer; there are some good things, too. I do like the house I’m in, there are four bedrooms, a common area and kitchen that are fully enclosed in a roughly square shape, but in the middle is an open air courtyard with a mango tree. It’s nice to step outside in the morning and be outside but still in my own house. One of the things I like that REALLY surprised me is their showing system. Some of you may recall my hesitation when I first heard about it – basically the bathroom is rectangle-shaped with the toilet at one end and a small waist-high basin at the other end. You fill up the basin with water and then use a scoop to wet yourself, then soap up and shave, and scoop-rinse yourself off. There is a hole in the floor for the water to drain off. I actually love bathing this way. Who knew? The weather is really nice too. I hear tell that it’s been a little hotter than usual the two days I’ve been here, but the nights are pleasantly cool and the mornings are just perfect. Today I ate my cereal in my little courtyard under the mango tree. There is a soccer field directly across the street from the house, and kids were playing a game. It was nice to hear their elated voices spilling over the walls of the house.
As for the not so good stuff, there are about a million ants. They are everywhere. I can’t say I mind all that much, I actually think it adds a certain rustic charm to the place, and hey – they ain’t spiders. But still they can be a little annoying. All the food has to wrapped up tightly, and I usually have to flick one or two off the toilet before sitting down. But the ants are saints compared to the mosquitos. There aren’t actually all that many mosquitoes, but it seems like every single damn one of them is on a personal quest to seek me out and drain me of every last drop of blood I have. There are no mosquito nets in the bedrooms. I asked why not. They said I wouldn’t need one as the mozzies aren’t that bad. The next day I woke up covered in bites. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m having a hard time sleeping tonight – every time I start to doze off, I hear one buzzing around my ear. I covered myself in bug spray, wrapped myself up in my thin sheet and dozed off for a few minutes, only to awake and find two bites on my face! Ugh – you fuckers! Hopefully they will eventually tire of my honeysuckle blood.
Hey, thrill of the day – I got to drink coffee that had been pooped out of civet’s butt. It was actually quite good.
Friday, September 14, 2012
JFK - This is going less than stellar
Oi. I’m exhausted already. The only good thing about
travel difficulties is that at least they make the time go by. And make for
good blog entries.
It was a pretty straightforward morning and everything
went smoothly at home. Sure, you never actually have enough time to get to the
level of preparedness that we travelers fantasize about, but that’s par for the
course. So there were the last minute luggage smashes and snack-grabbing and
apparel reconsiderations that almost always accompany a long journey somewhere,
but for the most part things went smoothly. I was a little worried about the weight
of my luggage, as the home scale registered 50 pounds ON THE DOT, and I was
ready for Jet Blue to give me some lip should their scale be calibrated
differently. I was delightfully surprised then, when the bag weighed in at 45
pounds (Hmmm, does that mean I’m really 5 pounds lighter? It must!). I was
therefore I was a little distracted when the desk clerk informed me that I
would arrive in Singapore the morning of the 13th, and because my
flight to Surabaya wasn’t until the morning of the 14th, I would
need to pick up my bags and recheck them. I am used to overlooking important
information, so in the moment I thought that information sounded a little
suspect, but I figured I must have misread the flight information. So instead
of clearing up the matter then and there, my brain begin panicking slightly
about what I was going to do with a 24 hour layover in Singapore.
Wanting to confirm this new setback, I pulled out the
printout of my itinerary and was relieved to see that, as I had initially
thought, my flight landed in Singapore on the 14th, and my flight to
Surabaya left after a mere hour and 15 minute layover. So I went up to the Jet
Blue desk to clear up the situation. They basically told me that there was
nothing they could do – my bags were tagged to Singapore, and therefore I had
to pick them up in Singapore and recheck them. I kept saying that I didn’t
think I’d have enough time, and they kept telling me I had a 24 hour layover,
because there infallible computers insisted that I arrived in Singapore on the
13th. I pointed out how that was physically impossible since Singapore
is about 12 hours ahead. My flight from JFK didn’t leave until 8pm on the 12th,
making it 8am on the 13th in Singapore. The very nice but very
confused Jet Blue lady didn’t seem to grasp this logic, and as we were about to
board told me I’d have to clear things up at JFK.
So I arrive at JFK and try to talk to the Jet Blue folks
there. They told me I’d have to talk to baggage. The only caveat – to get to
baggage I’d have to leave the swanky Jet Blue terminal. If you’ve never been to
the Jet Blue terminal in JFK, well, it’s like some sort of hip party is going
on all over. Sure part of me was put off by all the hip-ness of it, but it
would have been a nice place to spend my 8 hour layover. But I needed to get
this luggage thing sorted out before I could really relax, so I descended the
escalator to hell, er… baggage.
The nice ladies really were trying to help, but they
suffered from the same infallible belief in their computer system. The woman
kept trying to tell me that I had to call the website that booked my flight,
because clearly the website had given me incorrect information. It basically
went like this…
Me – “But it’s physically impossible that I arrive in
Singapore on the 13th.”
Her – “Well that’s what our computers say.”
Me – “I understand, but there must be a little glitch in
the system.”
Her – “No, the problem is with the site that booked your
flights, you have to call them.”
Me – “But calling them won’t make any difference, I just
need my bags checked to Surabaya.”
Her – “Well we can’t check them through because your
layover is over 24 hours.”
Me – “But it’s not.”
Her – “Well you’re going to have to take that up with the
site that booked your ticket.”
Me – “But when you do the math, there’s no way I can
arrive…”
Her – “You’re not listening to what I’m saying, are you?”
And it went round and round like that for a good ten
minutes until I finally decided to give it up, go to the Singapore Airlines
terminal and talk to someone there.
Then I got stuck in the big door that goes round and
round. I was only stuck in it for a minute, but it was enough that I really,
REALLY wanted to throw all my stuff on the ground and yell, “Oh for fuck’s
sake!” and go back home. Fortunately that moment passed and I trekked bravely
forward to Terminal 4.
I found the Singapore Airlines counter in Terminal 4. It
was unmanned. I called the reservation number and hunkered down behind the
kiosk with the phone pressed to one ear and my finger jammed in the other, I
was just barely able to understand the lady on the other side. She said that
the real reason my bags couldn’t be checked through is that Jet Blue has a
partnership with Singapore Air, but not with Silk Air, who operates the
Singapore to Surabaya leg. This seemed eminently odd because Silk Air IS OWNED
BY SINGAPORE AIR, but ok, I understand the politics of all the airlines so at
least I KIND OF understood that reasoning. She also assured me that since the minimum
time to deplane, collect and recheck my baggage and then get to my flight is an
hour, I have “plenty of time” to make my flight. Yeah. My layover is an hour
and 15 minutes – that 15 whole minutes of leeway! I’m gonna be fine! (That last
sentence should be read dripping with sarcasm.)
So here I am in Terminal 4, far from the swanky party at
the Jet Blue terminal, trying not to freak out about my luggage, and trying to
stay positive.
The glories of International travel. It’s not always this
bad, I swear ;)
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Eve of Destruction, er, Departure
So here I am, yet again, packing up all my belongings. I
am both proud and slightly mortified that everything I own fits into some boxes
in my dad’s attic. It’s a good feeling to know that I am not tied down by stuff
and stuff and more stuff, but at the same time there is an element to our
society that teaches up to pride ourselves on material possessions. I’d be a
big fatty liar if I didn’t admit that sometimes – yes, sometimes even I covet
the possessions of others (which amendment am I breaking there?), especially
when I consider that I’m 34 and *thought* I’d have “more” to show for myself at
this point. Not that I question my lifestyle for a minute – I love what I’m
doing and I appreciate that I’ve been able to live the life I have. I’m happy
not to indulge in the game of accumulation. I like not being weighed down by my
stuff and I like that my things don’t define me. But every once in a while I
daydream about “The American Dream” and what it would be like if I actually put
stock in that. But then I remember that I’m Al Pal and if I ever were to get
tied down by the american dream I’d probably spend my life gazing longingly out
the window ruing the day I gave up my freedom. I seem to have gotten myself
into this sticky situation where my feminine instincts are in all-out war with
my wanderlust. I do have a typical feminine drive compelling me to make a nest
and breed, but I struggle with what life would be like if I let that happen –
Ha! “let that happen” – as if I had any control over it. Part of me is actually
convinced that the only reason I DO acquiesce to my wanderlust so much is that
I CAN’T seem to find anything stable in the relationship department. Soooooo, a
family is a bit out of the question until I sort all that out. Maybe all I need
is a sperm donor and a papoose. Or a kindred spirit with a boat, a passport and
a lot of disposable income. Hope springs eternal. In the meantime, I’m going to
Indonesia to teach English.
Today I’m honestly a little low. Everyone assumes I am
over the moon with excitement, and yeah, I suppose I can feel something of that
deep inside, but it’s been overshadowed the past few days with thoughts of
leaving my family and my comfort zone. At the end of the day, I know that one
of the big reasons that I travel IS to challenge my comfort zone, and what
makes you appreciate your family more than being away from them! I guess I just
realize that this will be THE HARDEST thing I’ve ever done, and throughout most
of it I’ll be away from all of the people who form my support circle. Sure,
thanks to this internet thing I can be closer to them than if I’d done this
even 10 years ago, but there’s something to be said for hugs from the ones you
love. Especially after a hard day. But if my life has taught me one thing it’s
how to be on my own (I’m not trying to be morbid here – just realistic! I’m grateful
for this essential life skill!) so I tell myself – Buck up, Allison! Breathe,
relax, and remember that I have all of you out there who care about me and
would probably leap at the chance to give me a real hug! I hope that my upcoming adventures
will serve to thrill and amaze (or at the very least amuse).
In the meantime, to combat my blue mood today, I did what
anybody would do on the eve of their impending departure away from the United
States for a year. I made a pecan pie.
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