Sampai nanti Bandung

As the hot lava and ash of Volcano Merapi return to mere magma underneath the earth's crust, I too return to Yogyakarta to resume language school (and in return, I mean arrive for the first time).  That means a fine farewell to the city of Bandung, the place I called home for a mere two weeks.  I figured a photo montage would be the perfect way to say goodbye to Bandung.

Goodbye outlet malls with funny English names. 

Goodbye indoor waterfall in guest house. 

Goodbye traffic jams.        

Goodbye Institute Technology of Bandung

Goodbye parking lots full of mopeds.   

Goodbye to randomness that can not be properly captured on film.  

I am a monkey

I am currently working on learning my fifth language.  One would think that I would be a master of learning languages by now; however, I am constantly amazed at how long it takes to learn a language.  Although I have been in Indonesia for a month now, I have only had five days of language school (permits, volcanoes and animal sacrifice holidays delayed my formal language training).  While I was not in language school, I have been trying to teach myself a few things about the language.  Since people often want to know why I am in Indonesia, I figured I should teach myself how to talk about my research. In Bahasa Indonesian, there is only one word for my, mine, and I, the word saya.  I figured that I could just replace any of those words for saya and it would work.  Therefore, if I wanted to describe the species I studied, I would say, "Saya monyet bekantan".  I thought I was saying, "my monkey is a proboscis monkey".  Well, yesterday, I found out that to say "my", you need to put saya after the noun, not before.  Therefore, when I thought I was saying, "my monkey", I was really saying, "I am a monkey".  Now, I am not going to deny that I am a primate, but I am pretty sure that I am not a monkey...the last time I checked, I didn't have a tail.  Oh, did  I make my language teachers laugh.  Little did they know that I am been calling myself a monkey, a house, a book, a motorcycle, and luggage for a month now.  I understand why so many Indonesians give me such strange looks.  They must have thought I was really confused or having a very bad existential crisis.  As I continue my formal language, I am excited to learn how many other things I have been saying incorrectly for the past month.

The search for java in Java

As an avid coffee drinker, I was super excited to move to Indonesia, as it could be considered the Mecca for coffee drinkers.  Just think about it, the slang word for coffee, java, is the same name as the main island in Indonesia, Java... a coincidence, I don't think so.  Wikipedia just told me that Indonesia is the fourth largest coffee producer in the world.  Besides the whole Java thing, I love Sumatran coffee.  As we have learned from Sophia's trivia, Sumatra is one of the main islands in Indonesia.  There has to be amazing coffee in this country.  When I took my first sip of coffee in Indonesia,  it was amazing.  I thought to myself, "I am home".   However, the next day, the coffee was watered down and never met my expectations.  I have set out for the perfect cup of coffee, and a month has past, and I have yet to find another amazing cup of coffee.  Usually, when I ask for coffee, I will see them open up the little package of instant coffee and just add hot water.  Really!?!?! Instant coffee on the island of Java, this can't be happening.  I decided that maybe I just needed to go to the supermarket.  I found the aisle of coffee and it was big, real big, this must have the delicious coffee I have been craving.  I start searching...instant coffee, instant coffee with cream, instant coffee with sugar, even premixed 3 in 1, instant coffee with sugar and cream, but no coffee beans.  Where are the whole beans?  I saw the coffee plants covering the mountainsides as I took the train from Jakarta to Bandung...it has to be here someplace.  Where are you, oh delicious coffee beans?  You must be here somewhere.  My search had gone on long enough, it was time to ask for outside help.  I asked my language teachers and they said oh we export all our beans and just drink instant here.  My heart broke just a little bit.  I will not find the perfect cup of java on the island of Java... it is all in the US.  I have changed my quest and am now searching for my favorite instant type of coffee, I will let you know when I find it.  

Three Americans Take the Train to Bandung

The title of this blog sounds like the beginning of a great joke, I am not sure what the punch line is, but all I know is that we were laughing a lot at the end of the trip.  Let me start from the beginning, Fulbright decided that the evacuees from Yogyakarta should go to Bandung, and they should take the train to get there.  Therefore, 3 Americans and all their stuff (5 backpacks, 3 suitcases, 1 Pelican case, 1 Timbuk2 bag, and 1 fanny pack) board the train.  Now, to make a long story short, we had a lot of stuff that we had to fit in a very small space.  We pushed and we shoved and we shimmied till all of our stuff was properly packed away (mostly between our chair and the chair in front of us).  Four hours later, we arrived in Bandung.  We started to get our stuff out of its hiding places, we pulled, and we yanked, and we caught 60 lb falling suitcases.  American number one takes her one suitcase and successfully gets off the train.  American number two has a suitcase that is wider than the aisle, so therefore can't roll it.  She wrestles with suitcase one while, leaves suitcase two in the aisle.  American number three (me) dressed as a turtle, decides that she is is going to help and starts pulling the next suitcase (with all her luggage on her back...see blog "Life as a Turtle" for full description).  I first get stuck at the turn to get off the train... I shimmy some and get unstuck.  Then I start going toward the exit, and the train starts moving.  I know I can jump out of a moving train, but I am looking at the ground and thinking of the extra 115lbs of luggage on me (not to mention the 65lbs of luggage I am pulling), and think, if I jump, my ankle is going to shatter.  American one and two are yelling at me to get off the train, but besides contemplating the broken ankle, I am also literally stuck.  I throw my pelican case to American one, and gather all my force and charge... free myself, jump off the moving train, and even save the suitcase.  No broken ankles, all luggage saved, and one American with a bad case of the giggle goose (I could not stop laughing).  As I am thinking about my great death defying leap... the train of course stops moving and just sits there.  I could have just waited 5 minute and would have been fine.

If you came to visit...

The Asian Section of the food Court

I would take you to the mall.  Don't worry, it would not be the only place I would take you, it goes without saying that I would show you the coolest monkeys ever, but the mall would be a stop that we would need to make.  There are many reasons why I make this statement.  First, mall life is such a part of the Jakarta culture.  It is what people do here... they go to the mall.  Secondly, I spent the entire afternoon at the mall in complete awe... hence I want to share it with other people.  There are many things spectacular about the malls here. They have all the designers, Gucci, Armani, Mark Jacobs... the list goes on and on.  I have never seen these stores before yet they are in the Indonesian Malls.  Secondly, they are designed in a way that is unbelievable.  At the mall I was at yesterday, each food type area had its own decoration, the Japanese cuisine had bamboo and cherry trees, the French Cuisine area was done in the motif of Baroque architecture, the American area was set up like Central Park.  I had such a good time just walking through the different areas.  It was amazing.  Thirdly, the malls are such a strong contrast to a lot of the rest of Jakarta.  They are always the same cool temperature compared to the hot humid air outside, they are clean compared to the pollution and litter, they are quiet compared to the noises of traffic and people calling to you for a taxi...they are just so different.  It is the ying and the yang of Jakarta culture... and something I think everyone who comes to Indonesia should experience.  

The transition from the American to Chinese Section.

Life as a Turtle

Life as a turtle must be very liberating but also very difficult.  Imagine having your house on your back.  No matter where you go, you have everything you need; however, that means you also need to carry everything you have everyplace you go.  I had a glimpse of what it must feel like being a turtle this week.  I arrived from Pontianak to Jakarta on Wednesday night.  I had left 48 kilos (about my body weight) of gear in Pontianak (that is a different story)... but in Jakarta I was reunited with the items I have decided that I need for the next two months (plus things that are of too much value to leave somewhere).  I imagined that it would be a quick trip into Jakarta to obtain my permit to enter national parks, so I only booked two nights in a hotel.  Well, between my permits not being ready and the evacuation of my next location, I was stuck in Jakarta.  I went looking for a new hotel, and was drawn to the sign that said "24 Hour Pancakes" and realized this must be the hotel for me.  Advice... do not pick a hotel because it might have 24 hour pancakes (by the way, they didn't even serve pancakes at breakfast).  I blew the power in the hotel and just didn't feel like it was a good place (plus it cost $50 a night).  If I was going to stay at a sub-par hotel, I wanted to pay sub-par prices (remember, none of my grants have gone through yet, so my bank accounts are pretty much empty at this point).  Therefore, I walked down the street and found a hotel for $26 a night.  It was what you would expect for $26, a bit dirty, a bit loud, a bit shady.  However, the next day, I was trying to figure out where my friend was staying (the motorcycle driver took me to the wrong hotel the night before), and I realized I could stay at a nice hotel for only $27 dollar a night.  Sold. I moved again.  Now 4 hotels in 5 days might not seem that bad; however, when you have to carry all your stuff around (hotel 2 made me walk the 4 blocks to the next hotel- a many of the hotels do not have elevators or carts) it gets to be a bit much.  Since I do not have a picture of my turtle life, let me try to explain 'my house'.  I have my 70 liter backpack stuffed to the gills on my back (it probably weighs 65 lbs), then I have my 36 liter backpack on my belly (it weighs 40 lbs), I have my Timbuk2 bag over my shoulder (I try to make that one light) and then have my big Pelican briefcase in my hand (35lbs).  Now, I can walk with all this stuff, but it is very very difficult.  I laughed when someone asked me if I wanted to take a motorcycle with my stuff.  I now understand why turtles move so slowly, one must have very slow and calculated movements with that much weight on your back.  I just got word that I will be moving again on Thursday to Bandung.  Hopefully, I will be staying in one place for a bit (I am suppose to finally start language school).  I will be happy when I am no longer a turtle for awhile.

Everything happens for a reason

I generally think there is a greater plan.  I can't really articulate it, but it is something I believe in.  In some ways it is a defense mechanism... a reason for all the bad things.  However, I generally feel that something or someone is looking out for me.  I was feeling very frustrated yesterday when I called the Department of Forestry Department to ask about my permit to enter conservation areas.  They stated that it might take another week to process it.  Another week of waiting for permits means another week in Jakarta, another week of living out of hotels, another week of delaying my language school,  and another week of delaying my research.  I was just in the processes of transferring hotels again (I kinda blew the power in the last one and wanted to get out of there before they figured out it was me... shhhh don't tell anyone), when I got a text message from the Fulbrighter that flew in with me.  She is stationed in the town Yogyakarta (the location of my language school).  Fulbright was evacuated from Yogyakarta due to the violent eruptions of Mount Merapi.  Everyone is okay... but if I would have had my permits, I would have had to be evacuated also.  I guess everything does happen for a reason.  Now if only the thing that watches out for me could find me a clean, nice, safe place to stay for a good price... okay, I will stop being picky and just be happy that I am safe. 

Photo Time!!!

Jakarta.  Notice the contrast between the big shinny buildings and the rest of the buildings.  Also, can you notice the smog?

Pontianak

Walking in the rain.

The knife shop.  I told the guy I wanted a machete... he told me I could buy two and put them on my wall. I told him I wanted one that could cut trees, I don't think he understood that I wanted to actually use my machete.

Kopi

This is the vessel that holds the delicious coffee.  

Indonesian Barista

Market

Corn anyone?

So many different transportation options.

Indonesians like it hot, in more ways than one.  

I kept thinking that I was walking through feces... it turned out to just be the smell of durian.  There is a reason why you can't eat this fruit it some hotels.  

Makanan

Makanan might have been one of the first words that I learned in Indonesia.. It means food.   As I study primates' responses to food availability, I think it is important to discuss my feeding practices in Indonesia.
One of the quintessential food items in Indonesia is "Nasi goreng".  It was the first thing I ever ate in Indonesia because Jeff and ChiChi, from "Learning Indonesian Podcasts", taught me how to order it in lesson 4.  Therefore, I went to a street vendor and kept asking for nasi goreng till someone gave me some fried rice.  It would be hard to classify it as a fallback or a preferred food because often it is the only thing on the menu/ or on the street cart that I know I can eat (fallback food), but I often go on expeditions to try to find it (preferred food).  Maybe I can't classify my foods, until I know some more language words (since language is dictating my foraging behavior).  Either way. I eat a lot of fried rice.  When I want to be wild, I get Mie Goreng rather than Nasi Goreng (fried noodles)- but that is harder to find.
 One of the important things to mention is where I am getting most of my foods.  Along every street are little food carts that sell an item or two. The price can't be beat,  I usually get lunch or dinner for under a dollar.  There are tons and tons of fried chicken carts... I just  walk right past those, but every once in awhile, I will find a Gado Gado cart.  Those are good days (they have very low densities).  Gado Gado is currently my favorite food item in Indonesia, it literally means mix mix.  It has a whole bunch of veggies with a peanut sauce. Yum Yum.
As for other things I eat.  Well, I have branched out of my cart eating, and stop at these little 'restaurants' for fine food.  Restaurants are not the proper word, they are permanent structures that have maybe a table and a couple of chairs.  They have a front window that has stacks of food, and you pick what you want, kinda like a buffet.  If you want it to go, they wrap up the food in a big banana leaf, if not they just put it on a plate.. how unoriginal.  I have expanded my diet when I eat at these restaurants.  I will usually get a fried egg, some tempeh with chilies and sweetness, white rice, and some veggies (usually sprouts or green beans).  I then cover it all with sweet soy sauce.  
As for the locals, what do they really eat.  Well, I was talking to my permit guy and he said, "for breakfast, we have rice, for lunch, we have rice, for dinner, we have rice."
I have some picture for you guys, but I left my cable in Jakarta, so I can't download them.