Merry Christmas from Indonesia

It is Christmas Eve in Indonesia, and I am sitting in my room listening to Christmas music thinking about this holiday.  From my calculations, this will be my fifth Christmas spent aboard; I have spent Christmas in Taiwan, Paraguay, Panama-Costa Rica, and now Indonesia.  I am always intrigued how different cultures celebrate or don't celebrate this holiday.  In the small village of Paraguay that I lived in for two years, Christmas was about spending time with family.  We would get together and eat and drink and be merry.  In the village there were no Christmas trees, no presents, just family and food... oh and fireworks.  Santa did not exist; however, on the day of the Three Kings (aka my birthday) the children received small presents.  I thought it was strange when I went into the capital city that Coca Cola had a huge Santa Sleigh that drove around the city even though most Paraguayans didn't really 'do' the whole Santa thing.  As I was listening to my tape of Christmas music on my Walkman (yah you can do the math and laugh, I was using a Walkman in 2003) washing my clothes by hand in the hot Paraguay sun, I laughed as I listened to White Christmas.  Paraguay celebrates Christmas in the middle of summer, it was 110 degrees Fahrenheit.  Who decided that the birth of Christ should be symbolized by snowflakes and evergreen trees (as my minister friend pointed out, Jesus was born in the Middle East... also not a cold place)?
This year, I wasn't expecting much from Christmas.  I knew I would be spending it in a country that is predominantly Muslim.  However, as I walked around town, I was surprised by how many Christmas Trees, signs wishing people a "Salamat Natal dan Tahun Baru" (Merry Christmas and Happy New Year), and store workers wearing Santa hats.  I even saw fake snowflakes (which always weirds me out since most people here have never even experienced snow in their lives).    In a country that is 88% Muslim and 8% Christian/ Catholic why was there such a 'Christmas' presence?  Although the commercial cultural might accept Christmas, the religious meaning of this holiday was not as universally accepted.   Churches were searched for bombs and police stood watch as Christians tried to celebrate an important day in their religion.  This was definitely a side of Christmas that I had never seen before.  I decided for my protection, that going to church would not be part of my Christmas Celebration this year.  Instead, I would watch Christmas movies and spend Christmas electronically with my family (video conferencing is a great thing).
No matter where you are in the world, or how you choice to celebrate it, I wish everyone a very happy and safe holiday season.  

The PhD Candidate Goes to Kindergarten

When I have been staring at my glowing rectangle (aka computer) writing grants, my mind often drifts to days gone by when school seemed so much easier.  I remember fondly the days when school consisted of coloring, reading picture books, and playing.  The past two weeks of language school has allowed me to go back to those care free days of education when one's hardest task was learning colors, numbers, and how to make simple comparisons of which lady is fatter and which tree is taller. It seems like it should be one of the easiest times in the journey to obtain my PhD.  I should have mastered such things as telling time and reading numbers years ago, therefore I just need to learn the words in a new language. Well, the truth of the matter is that I have forgotten that I was not a good student till about the 5th grade, I really struggled with grades 1-4... and all those things I struggled with are coming back to haunt me.

Spelling, I can't spell in my own language that I have been speaking 'fluently' for 29ish years... how am I supposed to spell in a language that I have been learning for two weeks.  I get really excited when I am one or two letters off (that means spell checker will know what I am talking about) but the language teachers do not see that as acceptable.

Telling time, I have decided long ago that a digital watch is the best method for telling time.  It is quick, it is exact, and it has Indiglo.  However, my language teachers insist that I practice my telling time words on a real clock.  "Wait a second, which one is the hour hand and which one is the minute hand... and each number is worth how many minutes."  To add insult to injury, they tell time here by saying 27 minutes till whatever o'clock, so I had to remember my simple subtraction skills also.

Left and right, I never learned my left from my right.  I blame it on having pneumonia for a few weeks during kindergarten. We had multiple lessons where I had to use this skill...which person is standing to the right of Dewi, do you turn left or right if you want to go to the post office, and is the bank located to the left of the police station.  I really struggled with those days.  It was a constant, left,  I mean right, I mean hmm, can I just say North?  

I tried to explain to the teachers that it is not the language that is hard for me, it is the basic life skills that I some how missed mastering when I was younger.  They don't get it and assign me piles of worksheets to do for homework, which I need to write neatly (another skill I did not master).  It is a strange predicament indeed to go from planning research that has never been done before to having to answer, "The color of my shirt is blue." "Your pencil is not red."  Given the choice, I think I would prefer to go back to reading journal articles and writing grants.

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.