These are a Few of my Least Favorite Things

Recently, I've been mooning over Jogja and indulging in some super pointless future-nostalgia ("I'm going to miss Indonesia so much blahblahblah"), so it was almost refreshing to have a series of super-frustrating things happen to me this week. It was time for a reality check. Hence the inspiration for the list:

Things I Will Not Miss About Indonesia 

1. Being judged based on the color of my skin and the shape of my nose.
2. Being treated like an idiot or someone with no character just because I'm not fluent in Indonesian or Javanese; alternately having people give up on a communication before it's even begun because they are too lazy to engage in a non-fluent communication or assume that I don't speak Indonesian (even when I am speaking Indonesian in their face)
3. Consistently breathing air full of cigarette smoke (inside), artificial perfumes, or black fuel exhaust
4. Not having my own  a) kitchen  b) bathroom, especially sink and mirror  c) living space
5. Covering my body all the time or feeling shame when I don't; always being conscious of the way I move my body in public
6. Pretending that I don't have sexuality or sexual needs or feeling shame when I do
7. Having the professional responsibility of someone twice my age
8. Lacking any socially acceptable outlet for drinking/partying/dancing
9. Never hearing western classical music
10. Being bit by insects INDOORS
11. All of my clothes molding and never getting properly cleaned
12. HELMET HAIR

Of course the "Things I Will Miss About Indonesia" is a longer and more important list, but it's nice to dwell for a minute on the imperfections. I've fallen in love with this place, and in many ways have become the infatuated lover that puts their partner on a pedestal. I could gush about the view of Jogja from my zippy motorbike seat, tell you how I adore the cool tingle of morning sun 350 days a year and imagine spending an interminable evening Jogja-style chatting and drinking ginger tea. But the feeling that I had for the first 15 months of being here--that this place judges me, hurts me, alienates me--shouldn't be forgotten. 

When I can remember the flaws, both trivial and serious, I can learn to love Jogja more completely for what it really is. And in the meantime, I can get some seriously cheap spa treatments to compensate for all the other shit.

Read more...

If I'm Dreaming, at Least it's a Funny Dream

Even now, after almost two years, I'm not really sure if I'm awake or dreaming. 

Things that happened to me this week that contribute to this feeling:

#1. I volunteered to speak at a children's school (already surreal; I NEVER interact with anyone under the age of 18) and after the kids screamed with delight through my entire presentation they tried to attack me. Why? All 30 of them wanted my autograph. I may as well have been Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber for all the excitement I caused. Especially since they couldn't hear me explain that I wasn't famous because their hysterics were too loud. I had to pry them off me to get out the door of the classroom.

#2. I had a very small amount of alcohol on Friday night and was as good as dead all day Saturday, not even able to eat plain rice and gatorade without throwing up. Slept 15 hours. Absolutely unbelievable.

#3. After coming back to life on Saturday evening, but before eating, I ran out of gas (this is very common because my gas gauge doesn't work), and had to push my motorbike across a highway in the pouring rain. Some men assembled on the side of the road as spectators, so I asked them where the nearest gas was. Shrugs. Then, when I told them I was out of gas, they laughed at me. Obviously then I started crying and then they felt really bad (meanwhile, a car almost runs me over by backing into my bike. I have to slam on the horn to keep from being flattened). So what did these men do? One of them pushed my bike up out of the rain because I was too weak to do it myself and the other SIPHONED GAS FROM HIS OWN MOTORCYCLE into a water bottle and GAVE it to me and wouldn't let me pay him. It was probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done.

****
It was comforting to talk to one of my friends back in the US and confirm that life in general is bizarre and that dream-like (or nightmare-like) things happen just as easily in New York as in Jogja. It also reminded me of Takashi's wise words that we are never in control, only that sometimes we are more arrogant and think that we are in control once we're comfortable with a situation. When he said that, almost two years ago, we were comparing life in Indonesia to life in our native countries. But now, it also applies to my life here. I've gotten so comfortable here that I forget how damn crazy everything is, and then every now and then I get a funny little reminder.

That's it. No umbrella anecdote this week, just one point: life is weird. I think that's what makes it fun.

Read more...

Oh and by the Way...

 
THIS WAS THE PIE

Read more...

The Next Best Thing to a Dance Party

Despite the fact that we all work for the same organization, purportedly striving towards the same end-goal of Asian-American understanding, no Shansi fellow's experience is alike. Between the sites, the variance is amazing. One example is that the Shansi fellows in Taigu, China, have frequent drunken dance parties with their students, at their campus house. Not only does the formality at UGM absolutely rule this out, but I can't imagine many of my students drinking alcohol, much less drinking with me... at my house [shivers]. I'm all for some boundaries between teachers and students, but in a way I'm also very jealous that the Taigu fellows get to bond with their students and don't need to guard themselves as much as we do.

The lovely Novi in front of all my wonderful apple-peelers!

Looking for a compromise, I suggested to my superior that we ought to hold an American-style "Coffee House" for the students enrolled in my American Cultural Studies class. The students would get a chance to perform some American songs and poetry in an informal setting and participate in an event that resembles something we would have held at Oberlin (Baldwin Coffee Houses were always wonderful). Pak Aris, my boss, also suggested that since the department's guest house has a kitchen, that we cook American 'comfort food'... like apple pie. Free apple pie: an offer the students could not refuse.

After making attendence (and performance) required, I started to get excited. Hosting an event where the students do all the work is terrific, and I decided to just let the coffee house take shape as it went along. The students started filtering in around 6.30pm and were immediately set to work peeling the 8 kilos of Granny Smith apples. Soon enough they self segregated: girls in the kitchen, boys in what had now become the guitar and electronic equipment room. I almost intervened in the spirit of American equality, but when I saw Hendro with the apple peeler--he looked like a caveman discovering a coconut for the first time and trying to open it by hitting it with a stick--I decided it was all for the best.

Moodi and Hendro act out a love song

Nicole helped out by pouring her sweat and sanity into some gorgeous pie crust and it turned out absolutely delicious. While the baked goods were in the oven, the performances commenced with me as the charming MC. These students totally blew my mind... the first group performed Maya Angelou's "Phenomenal Woman" in beautiful spoken word and song, taking me totally by surprise. The other groups chose to go more contemporary, and I even had one performance of "Love the Way you Lie" with my student Dichy tearing it up as Eminem (she dropped the F bomb a couple times, necessarily... it was hilarious). Another group had choreography and props and had convinced two members to act out the love song by holding hands--the audience obviously loved this and was yelling and cat calling--and throwing roses into the audience.

This particular group of students is very close to my heart, because I've taught them since my first semester here at UGM. After so long, it's great to have a chance to interact with them outside of school, which is something that my Taigu co-fellows get to do all the time with their students. And while it was neither a typical Oberlin coffee house (there were no impromptu solos or overly shouting renditions of the Vagina Monologues) or a drunken dance party, it was just about the next best thing.

Read more...