Once upon a time in Borneo and beyond

Quebec

2009-08-19T23:36:00.001-07:00

We were met at the Montreal airport on August 4th by Jacques' father. After a year of trying to learn Bahasa Indonesia I've been faced with the challenge of remembering French, Quebec French that is. Luckily Canada is a bilingual country so on my lazy days, I can just ask any waiter, store clerk, or metro attendant my questions in English and they don't even assume I'm American. But listening to Jacques and his family speak, I'm struck with how little I can comprehend when the Montreal accent comes into play

I had been home for two weeks and just sinking into being in my own space and my own world but in Montreal, I still feel like I'm in a foreign world that has many similarities and differences from the U.S. But here I have the comfort of family which is feeling more and more like my own family with their familiar dynamics: His mother's care in buying a basic and useful article of clothing for Jacques' while out shopping, his father's questions on if and how smart we are saving money.

This is my 4th time visiting Montreal and second time in the summer. The last time I was here the chairs we dined on last evening on the patio out doors were covered in snow. This time, after what we've been told has been an unusual summer of we've encountered hot, humid and sunny days that remind me of many days spent perspiring in Indonesia.

QUEBEC CITY

After our first couple of days here, we traveled to Quebec City which celebrated its 400th year in existence only 2 years ago placing it among the oldest cities in North America.

The old 'centre ville,' where we spent most of our time, was teeming with people who were there to experience up to 4 concurrent festive events: Nouvelle France where costumed individuals reenacted stories of the checkered past of the early colonialist days; the strings of white tents sheltering the amazing local artisans boasting jewelry, clothing and sculptures for Plein Arts; Cirque du Soleil's newest show, Ovo, which played under their traditional spiral blue and yellow striped big top that stood out like soft served ice cream treat in its industrial surroundings at one end of the port. But perhaps one of the best events we saw was the Moulin a Images, a commissioned art installation for the 400th Anniversary series of events that will continue to be shown until 2013 with the artist Robert Lepage adapting the show bit by bit each year.

This type of installation, an "architectural projection," used a large expanse of grain silos as its play space for creative and historical images and animations depicting the triumphs and challenges of Quebec over the past 400 years. What made his art installation so amazing was its pure showmanship of talent that captivated everyone who lined up on the pier to see. Each evening after the sun set and the light faded from the sky, images were accurately focused along the industrial park while accompanied by sound and music.

We stayed in Quebec for four days returning to Montreal via a small town called Sherbrook to meet with some friends for lunch followed by a 30 minute drive across the border into my country where the language immediately shifts from French to English. This was the first time I've ever left or entered the U.S. by car. The whole experience was induced by my whim: that we could accomplish something so simple yet novel of my entering Vermont via Canada. Jacques is always reminding me to keep my smart comments to myself when it comes to customs agents, knowing that I have an inexplicable (but always contained) urge to be a smart ass at border control. So I refrained from responding to the agent's query about why we had our luggage if we were just coming for the afternoon, my answers revealing nothing but the facts, sir, just the facts.

THE HILLS ARE ALIVE AND SO ARE BLACK RAVENS

The road from the boarder to Stowe Vermont is flanked in the summer with rolling hills, big red barns on cute patches of farm that would induce the frenziest of Norman Rockwell painting frenzies. Also along the drive all day I would see huge black ravens cawing from the roads edge and at times eerily gazing at us. My daydreams brought me to memories of my father, how after watching Newhart each week he dreamed of moving to Vermont and opening up a B &B, and how in the months before he passed away in and out of the hospital with his treatments for cancer, the highway to my home town was flanked with black ravens cawing at me from the roadside: a symbol that I had read about somewhere in some Native American lore that death lingers on the horizon. I glared at these birds in Vermont for being too frivolous with their perceived duty of message bearing and brushed them off, letting them resume their contribution to the beautiful landscape.

In Stowe, a cute little town that hosts sleepy vacationers in the summer and skiers in the winter, we set out to find a place for dinner. The light was changing moods to a mystical peach pre-sunset haze with long shadows reclining along the hillsides. It was suggested to eat at the Trapp Family Lodge, the property being the inspiration for the film The Sound of Music. The food was absolutely delicious, finishing off with a maple cream pie, after all this is the maple region. We had eaten so leisurely that it was already dark when we left the restaurant. I looked up in the sky and gasped "Wow, they have stars here in Vermont."

It took us just over two hours to get back to Jacques' brother's home in Montreal which meant it was past midnight when we arrived and everyone was asleep.

A CANADIAN HOSPITAL

The next day we woke late to an empty house. There was a note from Jacques' brother that their mother had called, his father was in the hospital and had collapsed the evening before during dinner. Whatever plans we had for the day were altered; our priority was to go to the hospital to see how he was.

It seemed that nobody knew for certain what was up, was it his heart or something else? After a menagerie of metro and bus lines we arrived in the hospital then meandered through the labyrinth of hallways from the wrong wing to the correct wing where his father was still waiting to hear the final results from the doctor. There's a hollow coldness in hospitals, concern carved in people's faces in the waiting room, people disconnected and silent while hoping not to hear the worst. In the waiting area I noted a list that stated service charges for non residents of Canada, such as overnight hospital stays, examination fees or x-rays. In a column adjacent it noted which were free for Canadian residents, pretty much all of them. Jacques' father would be covered completely and has supplemental insurance to cover extras that he may want such as a private room versus a shared room in the hospital.

Within an hour the doctor had arrived to give his final assessment and sign for Jacques Sr.'s release. It was only heat stroke induced by a full afternoon of playing golf and his not drinking enough fluids: a potentially serious situation but a relief to all of us as it didn't indicate a chronic nor deteriorating medical condition. His birthday is this week as well. Incidentally we all celebrated on the same day as my dad's. I watched him open up his gifts exhibiting an excited sense of glee when he realized it was exactly what he wanted, an almost childlike charming expression lit up on the face of a man that is now 71 years old.

As I finish this post, we are leaving Montreal, flying home via Toronto where we will again go through customs. I will keep my comments only to the facts, Jacques will negotiate his yearlong visa with business like precision, and we will soon be home again to the cat, my creature comforts of home and soon a full school year with a new crop of amazing brilliant students to teach.

Being Home

2009-08-02T14:11:00.001-07:00

I returned back to San Francisco on July 18 but it became evident to me that although I was leaving Indonesia, it was not leaving me. After a 7 hour layover in Tokyo, I boarded my flight bound for home. I slowly filed on, stopping behind passengers awkwardly hoisting bags into the overhead bin and found my seat, right next to a young man from Sumatera, Indonesia.

Jacques collected me from the airport. It was around 11 A.M. on a Saturday and as I was more hungry than tired, we went to Universal Café for brunch, a favorite. While waiting to be seated, I overheard a group of girls speaking Bahasa Indonesia who were also waiting to be seated. It took me a moment to realize that it was out of place: unexpected but through habit and history of the past 10 months it somehow felt normal. Ah Indonesia, there will be no escaping you.

People have asked me over the past two weeks "Have you had any reverse culture shock?" My answer thus far is "not much, really." I've come home to the same apartment, same neighbors, caught up with most of my friends, and am enjoying all the food I've been away from for so long. So in returning, I think I can break down my reintegration process into two parts: "Things I'm grateful for now that I'm back" and "Little things I notice in a different way" as nothing really shocks me here, but there's always something to notice.

Top things that I am grateful for on my return:

Hot showers
Drinkable tap water
Daily conversations with my honey
No power outages
Eves dropping on English conversations
Catching up with friends in person
Brunch!
My favorite coffee shops that I can WALK to
Sidewalks designed for pedestrians
Indian food, Pizza, fresh salads
Conversations with my cat
No ants, rats, mosquitoes (okay I lied, I was bit by a mosquito yesterday..)
No mosques waking me early in the morning
Yoga classes, the swimming pool and a full gym
Fast internet

Things I notice in a new way (AKA things I'd forgotten about):

Gratuitous complaining by westerners ( which I'm realizing is a way people tend to bond -- through misery)
Being woken early in the morning by my cat demanding food
Cold foggy summer weather
Young teenage couples embracing on the escalator in the BART station (something I've forgotten was so normal here)
The price for eating lunch out
Political clipboard holders on practically every corner asking for donations
Impatience of my fellow westerners (in lines –queues, traffic lights, crowds, internet speed)
Junk mail

And the greatest culture shock of all in coming home: The budget crisis and how it is affecting education, jobs, our parks, the already sparse and dwindling social services.

Ubud in July

2009-07-15T21:01:00.001-07:00

Despite having higher prices than I am accustomed to for Indonesia, Ubud is a gorgeous and wonderful place and this is why I booked a one full week of yoga and other yummy goodness here for my final memories of Indonesia. It is also a great place to meet other travelers, an easy place to be a solo traveler so I've never felt lonely and on the flip side, I've had plenty of opportunity to have my privacy and spend time alone: Perfect balance. I've had a full belly the whole time I've been here in Ubud. It's been a source of comfort to me. I am still homesick and I still wish to return home soon but knowing that I am in just a couple of days, I'm releasing to the daily sensations as best as I can. Living in the present moment is not easy, especially as I don't want to fall into complacency nor lose my insight into possibilities.

I booked this trip over a month ago, having already settled my departure date from Indonesia with the ELF program but before knowing whether or not I was going to visit Thailand. I remember the night I clicked those few icons that appeared on the screen of my laptop confirming my registration. It was a hot evening in Banjarmasin, sticky and sweaty. I was hearing the rats play in the kitchen and was thankful that the power had come back on. Feeling a need for escape, I found Balispirit while googling "Yoga Barn" "Ubud" and "retreat." It was the best thing I could have done for myself: A weeklong package including my simple bungalow room, clean and with hot water and a handful of meals at my favorite Ubud restaurant called KAFE. I was given a class pass for 12 yoga or meditation classes of my choice, 2 private yoga lessons with this wonderful teacher named Jane and I added on a bike tour through the rice paddies with Bike Baik.

It was on this spectacular bike tour that I met Katherine and her 7 year old son Tané. Katherine and Tané are from Ireland, Tané is half Maori (New Zealand) and his name means "man." We instantly clicked as a small traveling group, enjoying our bike ride together, Katherine offering her back pack as a place for me to keep my camera and water bottle. Tané has a gentle curiosity about him intermixed with 7 year old boy energy. He rode ahead a lot, took a spill on a tight turn in the road and bounced up like he was a rubber ball, hopping back on to lead the troupe onward. He was always ready with very insightful questions about Indonesia and America, wondering how far things were, how long plane rides were and comparing my answers to his more recent experiences of flying first to Jakarta then traveling across Java with his mother.

The day after the bike tour, Katherine and Tané were planning to see Ketut of the Eat, Pray, Love fame. They invited me to join so tagged along. "Sure, why not?" I was curious myself after having read the book last summer, a gift given to my from my Indonesian American friend, Nani. If you are reading this Nani, yes, I finally went to see Ketut! I passed on the reading however, still feeling satiated from my Dukun experience two months ago in Solo, feeling like I can read myself so much more clearly now. But it was still a fun adventure. We trekked to his family compound both of us worried that maybe he has big neon signs pointing the way but it's still an old hanging sign from the same main road my guest house is on.

We entered his compound and he was in the middle of a reading with some other westerners so we waited patiently for about a half an hour. Tané kept saying he hoped Ketut would tell them that he'd have a brother or sister. In the little courtyard there were two people measuring the buildings and pathways and jotting down dimensions on paper. I told Katherine that I had heard recently they were planning a film based on the book wondering to myself if these people were involved with this somehow. As it turns out, they were measuring the compound and taking photos to send to the studio in New York that will be producing the film. They told me that they will actually film some in this courtyard. I asked if Ketut would play himself, they said they didn't think so.

Ketut's 10 year old granddaughter, an amazing little saleswoman, came out to greet us while we were waiting. She had a small portfolio of Ketut's drawings of a traditional Balinese nature with the creation scene with Brahma and some other scenes. She also had a folder with some of her own done with pastels. They (meaning hers) were amazing, whimsical, colorful AND irresistible so I bought one without bargaining or batting an eye. Somehow I just couldn't tell her "mahal sekali." I'm not disappointed with my purchase in the least. It was inspiring that a 10 year old can sell her artwork with so much charm while insisting that her grandfather's paintings contained magic but that her own did not. I beg to differ. I'm certain my drawing from her has some secret power even if just in its beauty. After we talked with her a bit about her drawings, her learning English both in school and from her grandfather the conversation came to a close, we wished her well and she said "okay see you later alligator." We all said in unison "after awhile crocodile."

Katherine got her reading while I talked with a young Dutch couple who arrived, also waiting for Ketut, the young woman having also read what was being referred to in this courtyard as "the book." One of the 'surveyors' stated to me that if I got a reading from Ketut, he would tell me that I'd live until I was ninety five, get married twice have 2-3 kids…. Katherine pretty much confirmed that came out of her reading BUT that she will live to be over 100. Tané was excited to learn that he will have a couple of brothers or sisters, his mother laughing at the thought. I was excited to learn that Tané has a lotus symbol on his back as part of his positive energy. Yeah, I can see that…

I said hello (and goodbye) to Ketut as we were leaving. He asked where I was from, I told him in my best Bahasa that I had been living in Kalimantan. He asked what I was doing there and I told him. He smiled at me with a big half toothed grin and then looked over my shoulder scanning the crowd of Japanese tourists and the Dutch couple who had gathered, waiting for his healing/reading services.

Chiang Mai to Krabi and Stuck in KL

2009-07-14T03:34:00.001-07:00

Chiang Mai

The remaining days in Chiang Mai ended up with rain and gloomy skies. That was fine for the spa day but I was suspicious about the day we had set aside for the zip line adventure through the jungle. Feeling a need to relax a bit more, I decided to sleep in, read, hang out with the resident Tri Gong dog named money (who I found out is pregnant!) and was glad for the break. When Susannah, Katie and Ellen returned (and returned early at that) they were soaked to the bone remarking that it would have been more fun if it would have stopped raining.

Krabi

From Chiang Mai we flew down to Krabi in the south. This area is known for beaches, boat rides, kayaking and slightly less developed than Phuket but in reality, it had everything we could have wanted and much we didn't want. It looked oddly familiar, a lot similar Indonesia but much more developed than Banjarmasin. The waterfront was lined with small shops selling everything from cheap souvenirs to floaty things you can bring in the water and restaurants boasting menus of western and Thai food. And of course it wouldn't be a complete tourist destination without the obligatory Starbucks and McDonalds. A big surprise was the amount of custom tailor shops where from their stoops and bordering sidewalks every evening we'd hear "Hello Madam, would you like some beautiful clothes?"

It was the off season, so there were more vendors out than tourists. It's the trade off, not much competition for beach space nor crowded activities, but it also means the vendors were like hungry tigers pouncing on all who walked by. We went out on one of the big snorkel dive boats, being low season, I had the dive master all to myself and the entry off the big boat deck was not a big stressful crowded even with divers bumping off one another. My unexpected stress during my dive was entirely unrelated.

I was very excited to dive, neither nervous nor anxious beforehand. However, within minutes of going down I felt a well of panic, something I hadn't felt since I received my certification years ago. I felt claustrophobic, my throat went dry from the air and although there were no problems with my regulator, I started to feel like I couldn't breathe very well. I told my guide, Punch who was amazing, that I wanted to go up, so we did and I started feeling better as soon as my head was out of the water. We gave it a second try after at minute and again I was fine at first but the panic crept in. We weren't even more than 14 meters deep! This first dive before lunch, I don't think we were down more than 25 minutes total. Again, Punch was fantastic, making sure I was okay and letting me try to figure out why I was feeling so panicked and claustrophobic. I thought maybe it was because I was using their gauges because my computer was on the fritz, or maybe I didn't drink enough water beforehand and was just a little dehydrated, also the visibility was low and everything was so blue, maybe that was disorienting. But it wasn't until the second dive that I figured out the crux of the problem, a problem opposite of many divers: water temperature.

The water was 30 Celsius. Although I wore only my spandex skin, no wet suit, I overheated as soon as I submerged. I always run warm in the water. In Monterey where my dive buddies need to return due to getting too cold to fast, I'm happy as a seal. I like the warm water diving too, but rarely need to wear a wet suit. At Phi Phi, it was just that degree too much for my body to feel comfortable. I was able to stay down the full hour on the second dive. It helped that there were thermo clines we swam through that refreshed me, and that there was an AMAZING sea turtle that swam right by us that the boat's videographer caught on film. But the feeling of warm water fully covering me felt unbearable at times that I had to stop Punch during the swim so that I could just breathe slowly to cool down.

My last full day in Krabi was spent with the ladies kayaking along the big cliffs of the area and through a mangrove swamp. Maquaq monkeys came out to stare at us and fell in love with a couple from Wales partly because they spotted a bag of "crisps" in the kayak. One monkey jumped on the front of the boat and rode with them for a while, staring intently, waiting for another round of food to appear.

Delayed 6 Hours in KL

As I hammer out these notes of my last week in Thailand, I'm sitting in the Kuala Lumpur Airport waiting for my delayed flight back to Indonesia to announce that it will be boarding… hopefully sometime today. I had higher expectations of the KL airport. The whole experience has been like being in a barn; in fact it looks like a barn. Its expansive, harried and not much rhyme or reason to the shuttling of debarking passengers through the process of going through customs (even for transiting passengers like myself) to claiming baggage, to checking in again, leaving the country through immigration (yes I have a Malaysia stamp in my passport now) AND then to heading towards the gates. Passengers zig zagged and cris crossed through the terminal, all of us travelers with dazed, annoyed looks on our faces as our transitioning from one point to the next lacked intuition to the point of prompting frustrated travelers to stop in their tracks directly in front of others, unaware that over stacked luggage carts were careening directly towards them from just feet away.

Finally in Bali

After a 6 hour delay where the flight scheduled after my own left 3 hours before I did, I made it to Ubud, by 1 AM. It was quite the experience. Tired parents let their children run amok, Air Asia didn't have enough meals for everyone to purchase and didn't think to offer anything for free, not even a bottle of water. In the vein of trying to stay positive and hopeful in my final days in Indonesia, I am closing this post. Home is just a short few days away and I've still plenty of interesting tales to share.

From Indonesia to Thailand

2009-07-04T22:18:00.001-07:00

After leaving my last ELF project presentation in Surabaya I embarked on my SE Asia Holiday adventure. So far it has been amazing. I started in Bali for two days of diving with my favorite group, Bali Scuba. They took me up to Amed which is along the east coast of Bali, north of Sanur where I was staying but still south of Tulumben where I previously saw the U.S.S Liberty wreck. In Amed there are some great coral walls but what made my diving here unique was jukung entry into the water. There are a couple of ways to enter the water when diving, one is a shore entry where you swim out, with all your gear on, to the point you drop down, and the other is a boat entry where you enter either by a big step off or a backwards roll wearing all the scuba equipment. A jukung boat is a Balinese outrigger canoe made from a hollowed out log and the rigging made from bamboo. To dive in Amed, we rode on a jukung out to our dive site. Once there we entered the water with only fins and mask and put the rest of the gear on in the water.

The second day of diving consisted of going to Nusa Penida, an island off of the south east side of Bali. There we went down to see the huge mantas at Manta Point. They circled and hovered over head like giant spaceships. It was eerie but beautiful. Our next dive was in search of the Mola Mola, sun fish, but once again, this special fish didn't come to greet us but many others did including sharks.

From Bali I went to Singapore for a one day stop over on my way to Thailand. It was a burst of high tech modern culture. Having lived in Indonesia for so long, I had kind of forgotten how much fun it was to ride subways and stroll around highly developed shopping plazas. Although I wasn't interested much in lingering in this type of environment, it was refreshing. I stopped in Little Italy for lunch and reveled in the smells of all the Indian spices. On my second evening there, I walked into a supermarket and was amazed at how many choices of cheese there were.

On June 30^th, I met 4 other teachers from my ELF program in Bangkok. We spent a full day there looking at the palace, gilded temples and statues, the reclining Buddha, and viewing the city from tuk tuks and a water taxi up the river. I never thought Bangkok would feel so clean. I heard stories about the pollution, the noise and the traffic but during the time we were there, it really wasn't that bad. Furthermore, compared to Banjarmasin and Jakarta, this large city was a sparkly gem! Even smoking indoors isn't allowed in Bangkok and it made a huge difference when we all went out our first night there.

From Bangkok we headed up to Chiang Mai where I am now. It's been great here too. So far we've learned how to cook Thai food at the Thai Farm Cooking School, we've walked along the streets looking at temples, eaten great food and yesterday we did a day long tour including an Elephant ride, hike to a waterfall, visiting hill tribes (which was set up as a bizarre living display of tribes from Myanmar now living in these northern Thailand mountains). We ended the day getting drenched while river rafting.

The Elephant ride was probably the greatest adventure. I shared a ride with Kendra and Katie, sitting in this metal rack seat that had a padded plank, all securely strapped to an elephant. It was pretty high up and felt a little dangerous, especially since our seat didn't' have a metal safety bar to hold us in. The ride down the hill was the most disconcerting as the elephant's weight shifted forward also pitching our perch forward. We held on tightly to the sides of the seat in order to keep from sliding into the muddy path. Once down the hill, it was much easier but our elephant, named Mei Ai (I'm not sure exactly how it was spelled) was a little ornery. She didn't want to follow the rest of the group, she kept stopping and it didn't help that at one point the trainer jumped off walked away (we think to use the restroom) leaving us up there. He did return but we couldn't stop laughing about it. At one point it seemed like Mei Ai was laughing with us.

As it turned out, Mei Ai was pregnant. We were told that she was 2 years along and that she will be giving birth in another year however this information demonstrates an entirely different perception of time that we are accustomed to in western culture. The gestation period of an elephant is closer to two years, not 3. But no wonder she was reluctant to carry us around! I think this experience was representative of the hardest part about being in a foreign country where the customs are so different than mine. First off, we really don't have many elephants in the U.S., but even so, rides on a pregnant animal seems strange and cruel. Encountering different standards for treating animals and human rights without getting too emotionally involved has definitely taken its toll on me this year.

Aside from my constant underlying battle with my personal judgements, so far Thailand has been refreshing and comforting with more food choices, a comfortable degree of cleanliness and lots of great vacation activities beckoning our money. Despite my disagreeing with some of the ways things might be here, I can tolerate it much more easily having lived in Indonesia for so long.

10 Months in Borneo

2009-06-22T04:25:00.001-07:00

Well I did it… I just finished the end of my time in Borneo. I left today with a beautiful send off by my colleagues and friends who escorted me to the airport. It was tearful as I know it will be quite some time before I see these people again but we all agreed that we weren't going to say "goodbye" but rather "see you later."

This last week was a love fest. My students showered me with praise, the faculty and administrative staff of IAIN had an official going away ceremony including the full gamut: microphones, opening ceremony closing with prayer and a bounty of gifts that made me feel so humble. I also did my best to do a bilingual speech, English, Bahasa Indonesia, and a smattering of Banjarese which made everyone giggle with pride. Of course I had help in writing it.

I was also given a party in my honor by the PPB crew (language department). They had great food, many photos were taken and I got a chance to say goodbye to the wonderful young and vibrant group of teachers whom I'd been working with this term; observing their classes and leading teaching strategy workshops.

Yesterday I was 'kidnapped' by my students. They took me and Puji to Batakan beach which was about a 3 hour ride from Banjarmasin, near Pelaihari. This was a fun place, a popular holiday spot for the locals with 15 min klotok boat rides that take you to a little island called Pulau Datu, or island of the ancestors. It has a grave yard, short hiking trails and big bolder rocks jutting out of the sea that the students were excited to climb all over as if they were conquering the world. Some rocks offered perfect perches for fishermen patiently waiting for dinner to nibble on whatever was tethered to the tip of their long bamboo fishing poles. Fishing boats bobbed in the distance as well and here the water was a milky turquoise unlike back on the beach which had the churned up color of coffee and cream.

Once back on the beach we ate lunch, chatted, and I took tons of photos of the many things that are constantly going on there. Young boys on ponies race up and down the beach and I was told they probably offer rides to people for a small fee. You can also hire a pony driven cart to take you around the beach and I saw many a family pile in and tour around. Goats wander around eating leftovers and rubbish left behind on the beach and cows were seen wandering in between the groups of people gathered on various tarps spread between the pine trees that offer much appreciated shade from the equatorial sun.

These kids were an amazing group. I loved their enthusiasm all semester. I had them do things they never even heard of. They diligently turned in 8 or more listening logs that catalogued things they listened to that was in English, citing new vocabulary and their opinions. I showed media on global issues and I had them do lots of talking in a class that was only labeled as "Listening." I will miss them.

I am now in Surabaya, Ea. Java. I volunteered for one last presentation on Academic Writing which will go on for tomorrow and the next day. After that Vacation! I will keep blogging even though I will not be in Borneo; my experiences from this journey are far from done.

Waterfalls and Dragonflies

2009-06-07T00:17:00.001-07:00

With my time here winding down, I've been working harder to get out and see more, do more and be with friends more. Within two weeks I saw two separate waterfalls, one on Java near the city of Solo and the other near Pelaihari here in South Kalimantan. This country is vast, the archipelago of islands has span rivaling the width of the U.S. and I'm hit with regret that I've not seen anywhere near as much as I would have hoped to, but I also believe it is important to cherish the gems that I have experienced already and those I have yet to experience.

Last week, after my presentation in Pelaihari, the students guided me to Bajuin, about 2- -30 minutes away and up into a small mountain. In Bajuin there is a short hike up a hill that takes you to some fabulous vistas and to a waterfall that courses its way down the hillside in stages, some more extraordinary than others. When I'm hiking in the jungle, I'm reminded as to why I thought Borneo would be so fabulous. It is. We walked up the trail past interesting hairy trees, through a swarm of yellow butterflies, past a rocky vista point where we took in an amazing view of the valley below, all the while dragonflies buzzing in and out of the bushes. My photos of this place of course once again didn't do it justice. A photo just can't catch that feeling you get when you find yourself witnessing Mother Nature and all her amazing beauty and natural balance.

Finding balance is something I've been trying to seek while on my personal quest here. I haven't blogged about this much but I've been trying to understand spirituality more deeply. Before I came here to Indonesia I had visions of shadow puppets telling tales of Hindu lore, traditional dances that discuss the tree of life through animal stories. I had images in my mind of jewelry, batik, and amazing costumes. In some places, all of these rich cultural things exist in a mix of Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, and local lore and magic. Sadly, my experience of Banjarmasin didn't match this expectation I had. But perhaps it is being in this place that I've not taken for granted when I do encounter the amazing mix of historical influences.

While visiting my ELF friend Angela at her host city Solo two weeks ago, I had the opportunity to feel some of the 'magic' of this country. It seemed like every corner I turned, every event I experienced contained synchronicity and serendipity. One of the first places we visited was the Sultan's palace. A sister palace to the one in Jogjakarta, the complex boasts it's Dutch/European influence as well as a museum showcasing a variety of artifacts from the region: stone carvings of Ganesh, Arabian swords and knives, a Dutch colonialist era carriage and a shadow puppet display. It is here while looking at all these artifacts that symbolize this region of Java that I remembered my initial images of Indonesia. I remembered that I chose this country for its diversity of art and culture, and it got my mind wheels whirring. We went into the courtyard where there is a magic well with water that is rumored to keep you youthful. We splashed ourselves with the water and I got to thinking even more.

In the car ride to our next adventure, haggling for souvenirs, I asked Angela's friends and our tour guides of the day, Yusuf and Talfiq, if they knew anyone who could read auras. The practice of reading people's energy is very common here. In central and east Java there are the Dukun. They are a sort of shaman that go into the mountains without food, water, proper hiking attire, and they meditate centering their energies to practice magical feats much like alchemy. Yusuf turned around from the front seat and said, "My father can read energies."

That same evening, Yusuf's father and two of his friends who also practice this art of 'magic' came to meet us for dinner. Speaking in only Javanese, translated by Taufiq and Yusuf, I was told that I had a strong aura myself. Ahh, I bet you say that to all the girls… They asked me questions like why I'm interested in this, and asked us about teaching here, what we think of Indonesia… etc. But mostly talked about the responsibility one has when they can read people. A person who reads energies must take care when, if or how they tell another person what they see. It is not in the reader's best interest to influence the decisions or path that someone will take. These men are Islamic in religion but they also practice what the Dukun have known for many generations.

They sensed my intrigue and invited me and the rest of our touring group to join them the next evening for a type of a meditation ritual. I was told that if I wished, which they could tell my enthusiasm, I could open up my own personal energies and I too could begin to read people's energies, however it would be a mystery as to how it would manifest. Would I see things, hear things, get flashes in my mind like a movie? It could all be revealed in time as I practiced the meditations I would learn the next evening.

So the next day, we continued with our plans to go up to the mountains near Solo and go see a beautiful lake and a waterfall. What should have been about an hour's journey there at most, ended up taking longer AND we never made it to the lake. We used a taxi driver that Angela usually hires but his car was not well maintained so it burned up on us on the way, but we couldn't have been in the middle of more beautiful scenery and after a small hike down the road and grabbing ankots for transportation, we made it to the waterfall. We weren't stranded. We had Yusuf with us, our hand phones and even in the middle of where we were in the mountains; there are villages, people, and transportation for hire.

Taufiq came to meet us later half way down the mountain where we had a delicious lunch in a hut built over a river. The atmosphere was like visiting the Shire from the Hobbit, and here I ran around trying to take photos of this amazing place: the river, Yusuf building a paper boat and a dragon fly patiently letting it's wings dry after the rain. I realized in this moment that I was already much calmer in this type of situation than I used to be. A car breaking down in the middle of nowhere would have filled me with a huge amount of anxiety. Living in Indonesia for this length of time has increased my tolerance of ambiguous situations. It was then too I realized I was not only ready for whatever ritual I was going to witness that evening but that this was one of my most interesting and perfect days of my time here.

That evening I journeyed by taxi to meet Taufiq and we went alone to this event. Angela was busy working on a presentation for the next day and Yusuf, although it being his father's place I was going to, has no interest in this sort of event. Indonesians can be very, for lack of a better word, superstitious about things. Many people have told me that they've seen ghosts, seen black magic, white magic… many many stories abound. A Banjarese woman, a midwife, told me a story of being in the Loksado region where she's witnessed babies born through cesarean and the womb was closed with some magical substance the Dyak shaman put on the woman's belly. Puji has told me that her father was also trained in Dukun practices and could talk to spirits and they would protect the family. I was told that some people seek out to learn what I wanted to learn this night because they want the power and ability to control. One of the first questions I was asked when I arrove that evening was to test whether or not I was seeking to gain such power over other people.

Was this a ritual a series of amazing mind blowing events? No, at least not exactly. Things did not magically fly across the room. I did get to hold and see a couple of Yusuf's father's many kris, ceremonial swords and daggers with a curvy blade. If one is made well and with the magic inside, it will stand on its tip alone. His were of this kind much like ones Jacques and I saw in Jogja a few months back. The ones tourists buy cannot balance on their tip.

One of the men I met the evening before was there. He's the teacher or guru of Yusuf's father and I had told them the evening prior that he had looked very familiar to me. I was told through translation that he said the same thing and it was because of our auras vibrating on the same frequency. I never got his name but it was decided he would be my guide. He talked about the 4 elements: earth, air, fire and water and explained that we are made of these and that we should keep awareness of ourselves in this order: body, spirit and intention. If we contain all of these in our awareness, we will become more pure and higher beings of light. I really felt the room vibrate with energy and everything he said made so much sense. I've heard it before; it's the core beliefs of Native American medicine men, the Druids, Celts, Alchemists. At the end he had Taufiq pick a leaf from the bush just outside the window and he began to roll it in his hand, folding it up making it smaller. He said that this was for me as a memory and souvenir of the meditation. He continued to roll it in his hand; I could see this little gummy leaf, cellulose all broken down in his hand. I was then asked to hold out my hand and as he tilted his hand over, out from his hand rolling onto mine was a small emerald green glass gemstone.

Just Another Day as Key Note Speaker

2009-06-03T02:35:00.001-07:00

Let me just preface this post that I have no intention of insulting the culture I am currently living in. I work with very bright and insightful people in Banjarmasin, but you can't live anywhere in the world where it's impossible to laugh at some people and wonder what is really going on in that cranium.

Yesterday I did a presentation 2 hours from here in a town called Pelaihari. This was organized by our students who are doing a two month long community service program in a lesser developed region that is about 30 minutes away from Pelaihari. The students worked really hard with a small team of local teachers and principals to put this on including a boxed lunch, door prizes, and of course a special photo shoot with a live American at the end of the event.

My topic was on reflective teaching. In my presentation I talked about how I've been working with our language department teachers on reflective teaching practices. I talked about how we hold bi-weekly meetings and how I offer my insights as a peer observer in their classrooms if they wish. I gave insights and a variety of examples for participants to try the reflective process themselves including self journaling and peer evaluations. I had the usual combination of 100 plus participants including a strongly interactive principal who was a brilliant woman I had the fortune of talking to after the seminar. There were also some outspoken and motivated teachers, a typical group shy ladies looking demure under their sparkly jilbabs, and of course the group of men who pretend they understand you up until you ask them directly to answer a question or to offer their opinions/experiences during the presentation.

It was one of the participants from the latter group that will make me laugh until the cows come home (by the way Pelaihari is famous for raising cows so that idiom happens to fit well with this). It was now the question and answer time for participants to share insights or ask me to explain something in further detail... or simply ask the standard question "How can I motivate my students?" Now I'm still not clear on the true meaning of that particular question... sure maybe they want to motivate their students to want to learn English but it is always state so vaguely so I've come to the personal conclusion that the asker wants to hear his or her own voice in the microphone. I come to this conclusion based on the fact when I answer with some ideas that are a bit less generic as the question, I'm usually looking into a glazed-over set of eyes. But see, now I'm off topic much like my participants get... back to the beef.

A man stood up with one of those Indonesian smiles that could mean anything from, "I'm so happy to get a chance to talk to you.." to "Your batik shirt is on inside out, I can see the seams." His question went something like this, (of course not without its long introduction and the obligatory "thank you for this time"): "When I see this title 'reflective teaching reflective learning' I thought this is a good idea for your university in the U.S. or to use with University teachers at IAIN but I really don't think we can do this in our teaching at elementary, junior and senior high schools in the region of Pelaihari."

Was he listening to the seminar? Did he take note of my most simple formula that I repeated like a mantra: 'Being reflective means looking back on what you taught and asking yourself what went well that you want to continue and what didn't that you would like to improve on?' So my response was simply: "I disagree." I repeated the mantra and then continued to say that this particular activity of being reflective can be applied to any job you do. Any field of work can stand to have people self evaluate their work and set goals. I smiled at him that could have meant anything from "Thank you so much for asking an insightful thought provoking question" to "Your head is full of air, I can hear the whistling from the breeze between your ears."

Thank you for this time....

Bisa Makan Nasi? (Can you eat rice?) and other cultural misconceptions

2009-05-04T03:57:00.001-07:00

I was at the mini market the other day grabbing some garlic peanuts, soda water and some crackers. I'm used to being stared at by children and sometimes their parents. I remember the first time I saw someone of color as a child and I was so curious. I was told not to stare and given a sense of shame. But here, that approach isn't the norm. I actually don't mind the children staring and then hiding with shyness behind the legs of their mother or father. It's charming. Equally I don't mind that parents don't try to 'correct' their child's natural curiosity. I think I would feel isolated if they did; like I'm something to be ashamed of so I smile and wave, engaging in a brief impromptu game of peek-a-boo while waiting in line at the market. But what did feel odd this week was a question from this one child's parent: "Bisa makan nasi?" Can I eat rice? I really think they mean "do" instead of "can" in this question that I've heard so many times, but it never fails to make me laugh while I try to understand why this particular question. I suppose since I'm a westerner, I'm a bread eater in their eyes. Westerners just don't eat that rice stuff in the world of Indonesia/westerner assumptions.

But probably the funniest interaction I had this week was my solo journey to Duta Mall in the taksi kuning also known as an ankot (a colt vehicle that packs in as many riders as possible). I told the guy I wanted to go to Duta Mall in Indonesian, he said.. oh passar (market, usually means traditional market). I said, "um Duta Mall???" And then he was typical Indonesian taxi driver "ya, ya, ya…" Which usually means feigning understanding.

Some of the taxis do a loop through the market before coming back by Duta Mall so that is usually no problem, just an extra 10 minutes but the fare is still 3000 rp (30 cents). Two men climbed in on the way and the driver approached the turn to the market. The gist of the conversation I got at this point was the men said they wanted to go to Duta Mall, he said he was taking me to the market first, I then repeated I wanted to go to Duta Mall (in Indonesian), the driver said "hunh?" I tried to ask, if he was going to Duta Mall, because now I questioned if the other men were going there. The men sharing my Ankot told him that we were all going to Duta Mall. I understood the driver's response clearly: "Oh…. Okey, saya tidak bicara Bahasa Ingris." I laughed… he'd said "I don't speak English." Oh! He thought I was speaking to him in English the whole time!

This is not the first time I've encountered this sort of bizarre misunderstanding. In placing an order for food once with Puji, the waiter looked at me quizzically and asked her to translate what I'd already said in Bahasa Indonesia. It must be some expectation and panic they have when they see a westerner; an assumption that we all speak English and a fear that they won't understand. My Bahasa Indonesia is far from perfect and I'm far from fluent but I can get by with the few phrases I do know and have had many successful situations, like buying plane tickets by myself: I've always gotten to my desired destination on the day I've wanted to go. I think at times my attempt at good pronunciation has gotten me into trouble as it seemed to indicate that I spoke more and understood more than I do. I've found myself a few times nodding with a strained smile on my face while my conversation partner continues to rattle off a stream of speech I can't understand.

Happy Belated Earth Day

2009-04-26T05:40:00.001-07:00

On Earth Day this week I was teaching and played "An Inconvenient Truth" for my students. They were captivated by the data and the images they saw. Everyone here knows there is a problem, it's in the news and we see the signs such as flooding, the seasons seem to be flipping around, but I see a similarity here to what I see back home, people don't always seem to make a connection between what they can actively do to create change. So we all passively are guilty at times for throwing our hands up in the air. We human beings are creatures that are attracted to convenience and it's hard to actively change. I'm guilty as charged. I've bought import foods to comfort myself during my acculturation process and I've been noticing how much non-biodegradable trash has gone through my hands. We don't have a recycling program here in Banjarmasin. Nobody comes with their trucks picking up your blue bin; there are no blue bins here. What used to be wrapped in banana leaves are now wrapped in plastic. Conveniences in little cellophane packages are all over the world, and sadly strewn all over the ground.

About a week ago I was at my friend Yetty's house. Her cat just had two very cute kittens. After seeing these adorable tiny critters with their eyes still tightly shut, we went for a walk in her complex. It was the end of the day, Magribe, when the mosques begin to wail the call to prayer around sunset. The light here can be amazing at that time and this was one of those particular evenings. The colors were so vivid the greens of the plants were practically iridescent while reflecting the low amber colored light from the sky. I captured some amazing cloud formations on my camera and we encountered a vivid rainbow in the South Eastern sky. It is a beautiful country here that has been pillaged by human desires. Logging which was once rampant and legal is now continuing and illegal in many areas. Open pit mining is destroying large parts that were once jungle and my fabulous country is one of many that is benefiting from these practices, if not directly, indirectly through China, Australia, India… many hands, many greasy palms and it's hard to know who's on the corrupt side and who isn't at times.

I try not to be depressed about this. As I say, people here are very aware and concerned and much of it isn't happening in our general region. Borneo is a large island, 3^rd largest in the world. I remember my aunt telling me once that sometimes we can only do what is directly connected to us, our own habits, our own environment. In this vein, I'm blogging my annual Earth Day resolutions that I've sent out in my annual Earth Day emails of past and declaring what I've done for my part and what I plan to do this coming year. One thing is I don't drive here. I either ride with a friend on their motorbike, I take an ankot (a small colt wagon that, I noticed one day while gasping for air, can pack in as many as 14 people). I also walk a lot and much to the shock and concern of my Banjar friends. The song "Nobody Walks in LA" really could apply here. Everything is "quite far". I've learned how to make my own peanut butter here and I will continue this practice when I get home. (It's easy: Roasted peanuts in the blender with olive oil!).

So here's to the Earth! I'm interested in what you; my friends have chosen to do to respond to the climate change issue and pollution. I'll share them with my students; maybe our movements will inspire them to make changes here in their own community.

Shifting Perceptions

2009-04-10T18:19:00.001-07:00

I went home for 10 days. Home means San Francisco, California, the U.S. It was San Francisco I missed. I was reminded why there are so many movies and songs that center in SF and of course I got to see family. I couldn't have gone back at a better time. The city was just getting out of colder days and exhibiting signs of spring. The sky was clear, the air brisk, blooms everywhere… it was most definitely worth going back and symbolic. Springtime is about renewed spirit and growth. I had no idea how deeply grooved my culture shock and sense of isolation was until I got there and immersed myself in familiarity and comfort.

At first It felt like cheating, as if I didn't really live up to this 10 month adventure. However, now that I'm back in Indonesia with new strength and a sense of energy and excitement for my work here, I know it was the best thing for me. My next and last three months here for this project is the perfect amount of time to finish what I've started. By leaving and coming back I could see much more clearly what I have started and where I am going.

Some highlights of going back to the U.S. included seeing the new Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park, Andy Warhol in the De Young, Kitridge in the SF MOMA, pizza from the western world, fabulous wine and cheese, coffee/tea with friends, coffee shops, eves dropping in on random snippets of conversation in English, baking lasagna in my own oven… and the list goes on and on.

Yesterday here in Banjarmasin, my friend Yetty took me out on her motorcycle for a tour of the town. We went to the Kayu Tangi district which is near the main public university in town, UNLAM (remember I'm at an Islamic institute not the big Uni). I was able to see all these interesting places I've never had a chance to go to before. Without a car or motorbike of my own, I'm pretty limited to my walkable region or taking the public taksi kunning (yellow taxi) which is a small colt that has u shaped seating which one evening 2 months ago I noted I was riding in one that had 14 people stuffed inside (counting children on mothers' laps).

In Kayu Tangi we stopped by the cultural center to look at the Banjarese traditional performance calendar and noted there will be some traditional dances next month… but as to the exact date not listed, hopefully while I'm in town. She showed me a good place to stop and get ice cream, she pointed out the Arabic restaurant I heard about that I still need to try and then we stopped at a smaller Indo/Arabic food place where we just ordered drinks, grilled bananas and a roti (bread) that looked similar to a cinnamon pastry but was just a buttery and savory spiral of dough served with grated cheese. Here we holed up until the big rain of the day stopped which luckily didn't start until we were already comfortable inside. I looked out the window under the big umbrella shaped awnings and it was if mitosis was taking place with motorbike riders. Every time I glanced in that general direction, the pack of motorbike riders who'd stopped to take shelter from the pouring rain had multiplied… like the ants in my kitchen.

Although we are coming out of the rainy season, Kalimantan still will continue to have rainy days. It just means it's not as non-stop as was during the months Oct-March. But when it rains, there is usually no mistaking that something is falling from the sky. I've said it before but it begs to be said again, the rain here is intense, tropical, and wild, much like the perceptions of this island. As I've travelled to other places in Indonesia, only one other place has rivaled this rain and potential for flooding: Sulawesi, a neighboring island that too is divided horizontally with "the line."

6.5 months in (Borneo)

2009-03-12T05:19:00.000-07:00

I've been looking around this house I'm living in and the familiarity of the place definitely has worn on me. I see things up that I've collected during my travels around like the wooden wayang kulit (shadow puppet), and the cards on the wall that people have sent me while I'm here. (Thank you!) Although I consciously refuse to call this house “home”, I think I've done my best to make it homey.

The familiarity means that I finally put up with things, but I don't necessarily have to like it. For instance the coffee table being about 3 inches shorter due to termites or that I need to avoid the little linoleum 'pocket' where the shoddily overlapped sheets don't quite seal... a perfect place to catch bits that I'm trying to sweep up from the floor. And to always remember to put on mosquito repellent on my ankles otherwise they get nibbled on during the dawn and dusk hours while I sit at the desk.

I can shut my eyes and tell you all these little inconsistencies in the house where my subconscious critical eye has strolled through daily over the months.... The gap between the kitchen floor and the wall near the refrigerator where at about 2 pm you can see light reflecting in the water below the house. I also hop around areas where the green as astro-turf carpet is beginning to curl from my chair or my footsteps wearing on it's haphazard layout... after all Americans love carpet.
Or sometimes duck in my one air conditioned room to avoid the pungent smell of burning trash tainted on occasion with whiffs of melted plastic special thanks to the modern packaging for anything you buy in this developing country,

There are things I like too, the group of chi chaks (geckos) hanging out on the screen above my stove every night catching bugs attracted to the one lonely compact fluorescent bulb, and there's a naughty ferel cat on my front porch catching the chi chaks who chose that unfortunate area as their bug catching domain, just like being in an episode of Animal Planet. All of this has become normal.

Of course nothing is perfect anywhere, but when you miss your home, things become even a lesser form of imperfection. So what keeps me here and keeps me going? Sometimes the genuine care for other people that is present in my colleagues and students is enough. Other times it's my projects that I've committed to that keep things fun and interesting. And some days none of this is really enough as it is hard to feel like an outsider with a duty that seems to be barely understood at times by anyone receiving my intentions. It's the little successes though that I try to regularly recognize. At my host institution I've pushed and finally succeeded in setting up teaching development workshops and convinced them that my energies for this place are better spent on helping the department to grow rather than merely taking on English department classes or doing regional workshops where our department doesn't get the benefit of attending.

One of my greatest pieces of pride is that I've helped to develop a radio show, Smart Up Your Life, and am one of the hosts and I created many of the materials and lessons for the show. Weekly we go on air, play an original and sometimes silly dialogue with a focus on a few key features in English and invite callers to call in to answer questions or just practice using some of the phrases we taught. It's been a BIG job. Through February, me and two other teachers put out 22 lessons and I have two more to put out by the end of this week. That makes a 24 episode show that will extend beyond my time here.

Remembering another perk is traveling to other locations to do workshops make a difference.. I just spent a weekend in Jakarta doing a workshop at UI (Universitas Indonesia), a beautiful campus. The workshop was for team building where I got to bring in every little fun activity from improv acting classes and tried them out on the locals. It went really well and I had a lot of fun doing it.

Keeping busy, keeping time steadily passing, keeping my sanity one day at a time until I can return to my HOME.

Long Blog Post – Jacques in Jogia, Inaugural Ball, and North Sulawesi

2009-02-14T17:29:00.000-08:00

Where do I begin? I know I left out a bunch of information since I posted last. I've recently been to North Sulawesi where I presented at a conference held by another ELF and her host institution and I managed a short weekend to Bunaken where I did some diving. It was fraught with adventure including giant centipedes but I also want to fill you in on the Jogjakarta adventure that happened a month ago and then I'm behind on explaining my professional adventures which also have been brewing madly... including a radio show that I'll be hosting beginning next week... but I'll wait blog this after out launch on the 21st, its the superstition in me I suppose.

Jogjakarta
... go there. Of course the most popular thing to see in Jogja is Boroburdur and all the other temples. I will need to go back as there's still a lot I haven't seen. Our most exciting story to tell is how we fell into the fun little Maliboro (big tourist shopping district) tourist traps. No matter how the guidebooks warn you, and how much you will swear to avoid it, tourist traps are tourist traps which tend sneak up on you when you aren't looking. It really started when I decided that wanted to find batik fabric that could later be taken to a tailor... not pre-made shirts and definitely not the wall hanging art (which is beautiful) but we were somehow shuttled through the alleys to one of those “you must buy the art now because we are going to Sumatra tomorrow” situations. (my eyes rolling at them, knowing it was a big scam) We actually did end up buying a piece for 60% less than their original asking price... and I'm sure it was still too high based on how quickly they handed it over to us. It was funny too, I had remarked on a piece I saw, that I thought was pretty but I didn't want it. They even chased after us down the alleyway trying to sell it to us me frustratingly yelling back at them “tidak mau! – I don't want it.” And then later, Jacques mentioned to the puppet makers he was interested in buying a kris. This led to us to being taken into someone's home who was selling antique Kris (the wavy ceremonial knives that have magical powers). These Kris were allegedly antique as they told us the family worked at the sultans palace. At this news, Jacques and I chatted outside alone and decided that if they weren't antique, then it was a big scam and if they were antique then likely it was not a legal situation. So we as best we could left the situation politely. Having lived here for a while, I have no problem balancing my smile and my direct no when it comes to giving my money. It is easy to be incensed that they would expect you would break down and buy something you don't want or be guilted into it as the bargaining begins with them pretty much once you set foot into the store. But if you don't want it, you don't want it, and if you do, you must advocate for yourself and your pocket book.

Probably the greatest highlight of Jogjakarta was actually not in Jogja. Near Solo (Surakarta) there are two temples, the Candi Sukuh and Candi Ceto. With Jonna (ELF) and her husband Peter we hiked between these temples in the cooler mountain air, enshrouded in fog, meandering through the terrace rice paddies and farms. It was beautiful and good exercise. The temples too were interesting, old with many interesting yoni and lingham symbols. I think the photos speak for themselves here.

But again, the departure was the worst. At the airport I had to go to Jakarta for a big mid year meeting and Jacques back to Bali to catch his international flight. I was reminded of saying good bye in San Francisco. The worst was, the first connecting leg of his flight was canceled and he had to stay in Denpassar one more night. Had we known, he could have come to Jakarta with me that night.

Jakarta
A modern city. Has Starbucks, Indian Food, halfway decent Mexican food, an amazing brunch at the Ritz Carleton and I went to the Inaugural Ball there. Barak Obama became president Jakarta time right at midnight, the same moment my birthday began. It was good timing.

North Sulawesi
I am waiting for the photos. I left without my camera but in retrospect with my accident prone self (at least that weekend) who knows what would have happened to it. Regardless, with our without a camera, North Sulawesi is beautiful. It has mountains and ocean, large coconut palm plantations dotting the landscape but the natural jungle is still pretty intact. Perhaps it's because it's not super easy to get there and transport the natural resources from the place. By plane its a good 4 hours from Jakarta and Sulawesi just isn't the most driver friendly based on it's topography.

The conference was fun. I presented on group work and pair work. I've done this topic about 3 times now and still find it's different each time. It seems to be useful for the participants, they walk away with a fair idea of how to make their classroom collaborative between students and better ideas on how to facilitate more English use.

After the conference a group of us.. that would have been six people and our bags, rode in hired car to Manado. Once again... looking at a map you'd think 3-4 hours tops, but I would in turn tell you to stop thinking in North American interstate terms... Now think windy two lane Indonesian road and add looking for a restroom, stopping for dinner and having a flat tire. This new equation equals 11 hours, getting us to Manado at 1 AM. I've made an executive decision: I'm done with long car rides.

From Manado, the next morning, we took a boat to the Island of Bunaken. The resort was a divers paradise fraught with hazards at every turn... at least from my vantage point. But really it was a great place, I loved it despite of my welcome fall down the steps towards the beach shortly after drinking my welcome drink (and half of my second beer). Despite of this obvious relationship it is a little odd to have the bar at the bottom of the uneven clifside stone steps that lead up to your bungalows. I was fine from the fall aside from a skinned up ankle that I am still bandaging up but my laptop took a spill and the LCD screen suffered spider vein like cracks. I am now blogging to you on a small new computer that I bought in Jakarta last week along with an external drive. Might take this opportunity to remind you to back up regularly. I still am finding that there are files on the other one that I don't have at my fingertips.

The Worst Pain I've Ever Felt
One evening at Bunaken, I walked over towards Maura and Rich's Bungalow, just before dinner. I stepped on a centipede who was lurking and waiting for me at the bottom of their steps. I don't think I've ever felt anything this painful in my life. It burned, felt like bones were broken and my foot swelled up like a balloon. The treatment for this is hot water. Just soak it. It actually relieves the pain contrary to what you might imagine. Without the hot water, it was a searing pain... even with 800mg or Ibuprofen. I couldn't sleep hardly that whole night. If it was soaking in the bucket, it was too awkward to lay down and once the water cooled off, the pain came roaring back. The next day, I actually dove. My food ached a little while kicking with the fins but there was no way I could pass up the day of diving because it was the last opportunity of this trip and it was a great day.

The first day of diving, it was overcast. It still was gorgeous but no where near the blue and turquoise potential the waters of the area have. I saw black tip fined sharks, sea turtles, fish, sting rays, coral and lots of sea water. On the boat we saw dolphins rhythmically breaching in their rest state. I did a night dive where I saw another shark, the glowing shrimp who just stop and stare into your light, crabs.... I think I decided, I'm not a big night dive fan. It's just so... dark.

So that second day of diving with the blue waters and the light and the drifting currents was amazing.

I'm back in Banjarmasin now. Although classes haven't started yet, I am happy to have this lull in teaching because I have plenty of other things to to. I still have 6 more lessons to finish for my radio show and I have to plan my next semester courses. Busy, busy.

The Mid-Year Blues and Remembering Tanjung Putting

2009-01-30T05:39:00.001-08:00

I'd been talking to other ELFs and it's the same feeling all around: the blues. We've just hit our mid year point and those of us in Indonesia had a big mid year meeting in Jakarta mid January (see the "in Jakarta post). I've been back in Banjarmasin now for over a week now with no classes to teach until March. I'm missing everything and everyone inducing a lack of motivation despite some interesting projects that are currently demanding my attention. Probably the most interesting project on my plate is I am collaborating on developing and appearing on an ongoing radio show designed for improving English. It's been a lot of work but I think it will be rewarding, I hope to blog in more detail soon as it kicks off. I also have something pretty cool to look forward to: I'm going to North Sulawesi next week to present at a conference and then a small group of us (including two good ELF friends) will head up to Bunaken, one of the best places for scuba diving in Indo. Ahh, cheering up a little just thinking about it.

But, I am back-'blogged' right now with my updates and I've received a few emails hinting that I am letting readers down… Sorry about that. People tend to mention politely that they enjoy reading it when I haven't posted in a while… I got the hint. (Did I mention I've also been compiling grades and more importantly reading trashy romance novels over the past week and a half? I'm busy!) So to appease the dedicated followers, the next long bit you will read will be more about my trip with Jacques through Indo. (Sigh… because he's STILL back in the U.S. and will be the rest of the time I'm here) This will hopefully boost my morale as I reminisce with photos to jog my memory of the details of our adventures. I put up two photo links from our separate cameras.

TANJUNG PUTTING National Park

Tanjung Putting National Park is located in Central Kalimantan. Looking at a map of Borneo, it's not very far from where I'm staying… but once again, travel in Kalimantan isn't very easy. The best way to get to Tanjung putting is to fly from one of 3 airports on Java. Since we were leaving from Bali during a busy travel season, Christmas, New Years, Islamic New Year, our travel to Tanjung putting had an extra leg of 'adventure.' We ended up flying from Bali to Jogjakarta on Java where a driver gathered us up and we were then driven to the airport in Semarang, about 2 hours away. Even though it took more time, it allowed us to see more of Java that we wouldn't otherwise see. The sky was very clear that day and we saw Mt. Merapi, an active volcano with wisps of smoke. I think we got a decent photo of it.

From Semarang, we hopped on a small plane that took us up to Pangkalan Bun in Central Kalimantan. Here, our guide, Pardi, met us at the airport, helped us carry our heaps of bags to a car and then we drove to Kumai where we got on a large Klotok boat run by the crew from the Eco Lodge where we were going to stay.

The boat ride took about 2 hours from Kumai and was quite an amazing experience. It was getting to be the late afternoon now and we were told that there would be proboscis monkeys along the way as well as a possibility to site crocodiles. We never saw the crocodiles but there were plenty of the long nosed proboscis monkeys high in the trees settling down for the evening. The dominant male monkeys basically start a harem with females and unless challenged buy another equally large nosed monkey, he sits pretty fat and happy with all his mates.

Our Eco Lodge package was for 3 nights. We had two full days of going around to the various Camp Leki feeding stations where we could see the orangutan up close. I can't tell you how unbelievable it was to be there. I still don't think it fully sank in. We saw some wild orangutan along the way; one was just hanging out at the mouth of one of the water ways we motored up towards the camp. We followed the rangers, who had back packs full of bananas, up to the feeding stations where many orangutans were already waiting… guess they knew what time it was. At one feeding time, one orangutan even came all the way to the ranger station to "collect" the rangers or to make sure nobody forgot it was banana time.

The largest male of the group eats first. He allows the females with their babies to come too but all the other smaller males hang from the trees waiting for the big guy to leave. It really is a show of dominance and territory. We saw a smaller male come down and steal from one of the females, including from her mouth! It looked like he was giving her a kiss but, no, taking already chewed banana. Even if the dominant male has eaten, he still hangs out on the platform, guarding his treasure. In one instance when the dominant male grew tired of just hanging out on the platform for 10 minutes we saw him take a handful, foot full and mouthful of unpeeled bananas, more than his fair share for sure, and proceed to climb the trees to the top. On the way up, the load was a bit much for him to handle and a few bunches of bananas came raining down for the others to grab, or for the wild boar roaming around below the platform to gather up.

The 3^rd night we were there, we were taken to see the fireflies twinkling in the palm trees along the river. They can fill a tree like Christmas lights and was a beautiful and relaxing sight.

The trip was amazing and I'm not doing it justice, I know. But going there was not without its heartache too. Knowing that deforestation is taking the habitat away from all these creatures and seeing the devastation right in front of you makes you wonder how much longer will it be? Going up the river, the right side is the park and full of jungle, the left side is fair game. There are still palms flanking the river banks but through breaks of the trees you can see clear open land that wasn't once so open. This is also something you can see quite clearly from the air. Additionally the Sekonyer River is muddied and polluted from the mining practices. Inlets of other small rivers show you what it was before, a stained water from the natural foliage and palm tannins, looks like a tea, but with the poor mining practices, it is suggested not to bathe in this muddy water as it's full of toxic run off, mercury and who knows what. With little to no regulation and no enforcement of environmental laws if there are any, it continues to be this way.

On the last day, we were pretty tired and ready to go on to the next leg. Jacques was feeling pretty remote being out there... I've been feeling this way for 5 months now. Next in our plan was to come to Banjarmasin and the easiest way was to take a plan down to Jakarta, change planes and fly back up to Borneo. This plan, mind you, was faster than driving for over 14 hours and really didn't cost a large amount. Once in Banjarmasin I was able to show him where I'd been living, he met my colleagues here and we presented a workshop on course planning together. It was a short visit and doesn't really warrant much in the ol' blog. Our next interesting adventure was to go to Jogjakarta… but I'll let you read about that later.

2. December/January Travel Log: Recharging in Bali

2009-01-24T20:48:00.001-08:00

Early, Dec. 27^th, I went to the airport in Jogja to catch my flight to Bali, an hour flight that with the hour time change between zones got me there (according to my watch) 2 hours later. I hardly slept the night before in anticipation of my arriving guest. I flew in domestic and Jacques was flying into the International terminal about an hour after I arrived, not counting his need to go through customs and wait for baggage. I waited outside with all the hotel transport people, all of us with overly friendly smiles on our faces as they tried to sell me overpriced transport and I politely declining with my few phrases of Bahasa Indonesia, a strategy to make me closer to them, minimizing their need to pounce on the westerner's money right out of the gate. It actually works… but the key is to keep that smile and say no with your eyes.

When Jacques first came out of the airport, he didn't see me at first as I was in a sea of people holding signs stating various hotels. When he finally saw me, he had such joy and what looked like relief in his eyes. He had a very long trip that routed him through Tokyo. We quickly ordered a Blue Bird Taxi from the taxi stand and rode to our hotel/resort in Sanur that was fully equipped with a swim up bar in one of the 3 pools. Staying in Sanur was the best move for both of us as it was calming, near the beach, many great places to eat and Jacques was able to sleep off his jet lag before the exciting parts of our trip through Indonesia. Otherwise, there's not much to do in Sanur. It's a starting point for diving, maybe kayaking or to get to the other little islands off of Bali, but otherwise… perfect for relaxing strolls.

After a few nights in Sanur we headed up to Ubud, bar-none, one of the best places to go in Bali. We loved our time there. It's so beautiful, getting into the hills with rice terraces on the way, ferns hanging into canyons right in front of our hotel, and the art and food (yes FOOD again) is fabulous. In Ubud, we saw a shadow puppet show, listened to traditional music, saw a Kacek show which is Balinese dance with the chanting of many men sitting in a circle… no musical instruments. Both the Kacek and the puppet show were from the Ramayana story and it was interesting to see the difference in how the media serves to present the events of the story.

Another highlight: I took a Yoga class at Yoga Barn, a great place for yoga… I couldn't believe the amount of Americans who were there! The teacher, American, also spent a lot of time in San Francisco… This was the beginning of a trend over the next few weeks where I was going to not just encounter lots of westerners but Americans too. The Yoga Barn studio is an open air loft overlooking rice paddies and offered a very relaxing atmosphere even though the class was a sweat inducing SF style Vinyassa course.

Also in Ubud I took a jewelry making class where I made a pendant of my own design (see the photos). For the torch, you had to pump bellows with your foot in order to mix gas with the air. This is the technique my grandmother used in her art high school in New Zealand. When she first told me about this process years ago, I thought, how tough! Yes, it was hard to keep the flame steady, the teacher ended up doing most of my soldering where I just did the cutting and designing, and melting the little balls that I pounded into disks. At the same time, Jacques took a gamelan class. He was pretty good too! (No real surprise there). Hopefully in the photo link that says "Jacques Camera," you will be able to click on a video of him playing a duet with his instructor. We spent 8 days total in Bali and really was the perfect setting for us to see each other again and to introduce Jacques to the Indonesia everyone wants to live in.

December/January Travel Log: Jogjakarta Christmas

2009-01-21T06:00:00.001-08:00

After traveling to various parts of this country and living for four months in Banjarmasin, South Kalimantan, I realize this country is one of the most diverse in population, culture and flora/fauna in the world. Having not many countries to compare it to, I can only go off of my observation (and the words in the guide books) to reach this conclusion. But I've seen so many vast changes in culture from region to region, united by one language: Bahasa Indonesia, despite the varieties of language that exists from region to region.

I realized in all this travelling; I heart Jogjakarta (also spelled Yogyakarta and called Jogja for short). This city has quite the mixture of both Islam and Christianity. It is a region that still has imprints of Buddhism (See Borroburdur) and Hinduism. When you go to Jogjakarta you can stock up on the region's batik, see traditional dances, hear the gamelan, wayang kulit shows (shadow puppets) and visit temples. My first visit to Jogja, I did none of those things. I stayed with ELF Angela at a swank hotel, slept off months of tension and culture shock/adjustment, and ate fabulous buffet breakfasts… essentially fattening up for Christmas.

ELF Ben hosted a Christmas party at his house in Jogja. We sang carols, drank wine, did a gift exchange where I ended up with a wire sculpture of a stand up base player. The attendees ranged from Fullbright English Teaching Assistants (Americans), Indonesian students, and a group of Senegalese who shared with me their own experiences of standing out on the street and incidences of Indonesian stereotypes and racism. I guess it's everywhere, why else would it be a center of the topic of the "First Black American President" all over the world! Outside first, inside later…

The party was great and apparently lasted long after I left. It was nice and important to be around many people who come from the same traditions. Additionally it was important for me to talk to many others who were curious enough to be part of the traditions as it served to help me understand myself and some of my culture shock and adjustment better. As a result, the pang of not being around my family or Jacques for Christmas was a little easier to handle and I understood quite deeply that there are times one needs to find their 'people and traditions as well as some comforts that remind you of home and your history. Sounds cliché to say this, but we are the sum of our experiences and this seems to be key in understanding cross cultural differences and adjustments.

So my first trip to Jogja lasted only a few days mingling through the western comforts and running errands in the local mall. It ultimately served as a springboard for the following weeks where I travelled with Jacques. I saved the art, culture and temples to be explored with him, in fact the anticipation at that point was so intense, I don't think I could have enjoyed experiencing anything beyond good food and reconnecting with the teachers, sharing our mutual experiences of adjustments. Meanwhile in the back of my mind the countdown was running: days, hours, minutes until he would be in Indonesia with me.

In Jakarta

2009-01-19T18:54:00.001-08:00

Its now 3 weeks into January and there's so much to tell. I'll start with where I am today but it may take a full week to upload pictures and let you know where I've been for the past month.

Right now, I'm sitting in ELF Maura's luxury apartment in the Mega Kuningan area of Jakarta. This is the final stop to all my mid year adventures in Indonesia before going back to my site. Tonight is the Inaugural Ball at the Ritz and one of the most exciting things about it is, once midnight, when Obama speaks and gets formally inaugurated, it will also be my birthday. So a fancy event, a new president, the Ritz… I think I'll survive.

Jakarta is a very big city without a shortage of things to do. Perhaps the best thing about being here is the options for good food! This has been the story for me over the past few weeks, good eating at good prices. I'm sure I gained a few lbs, even with all the walking around. Last night we had Indian, lunch yesterday: Mexican that was surprisingly like home, and if you are into it, there's every fast food and donut place in the world here… and of course Starbucks which I might head down to in a moment and grab a coffee. All these things mentioned, including the Ritz, are in walking distance to Maura's apartment building.

Also within walking distance is the SOS medical clinic. I saw this clinic from the inside in person yesterday. During my travels with Jacques, I ended up with a nasty sore throat that lasted 8 days… luckily I was fine otherwise so it only hampered my enjoyment of swallowing said good food. I did see a doc in Jogjakarta who gave me some antibiotics that cleared up the throat but I was still coughing up a lung getting here to Jakarta. Even though I knew I was on the mend, the medical facilities in Jakarta are much better than those in Banjarmasin and I just wanted some peace of mind, which I got, including a throat swab that threatened to make me gag, lab test, more antibiotics and my blood pressure is normal! The clinic was so professional: I thought I was back in San Francisco. So now I'm just relaxing in Jakarta…if you can in fact really "relax" in Jakarta. Looking forward to a great speech tonight and hitting the age of 36.

Happy Holidays!

2008-12-22T15:57:00.001-08:00

Well the end of the term is here… at least for me. The university continues for a couple of weeks and then has finals. I made sure to finish my classes by this week and am already giving finals. I couldn't imagine still having to work on Christmas Day, it is so ingrained in me that this entire week should be off that this was one unexpected surprise to me. Of course an Islamic University wouldn't celebrate Christmas! Not that I expected them to but somehow I just expected the academic calendar to follow an American one. It is a weird feeling, like a small tickly itch and you can't quite figure out where to scratch to relieve the discomfort.

There hasn't been much show for the Christmas holiday season here. On TV there are plenty of commercials telling you how you can download a Christmas ringtone, and some TV announcements of something going on in Jakarta but locally, not really anything. I was surprised with a small thrill of joy and comfort when I saw a small amount of Christmas decorations adorning the local mall. It does get dark here early and with the rainy season, it feels like the season for light festivals is due for us. My internal clock seems to know its Christmas.

I won't be home for Christmas. I am sad about that but I will celebrate in style. Those of us ELFs who are staying behind are going to do it up properly with a party on Christmas Eve in Yogyakarta hosted by ELF Ben. On the 27^th I will fly from there to Bali and meet mon amour, Jacques. I haven't seen him since my departure at SFO. Even though we make it a point to talk to each other every week, it's not the same. He's going to be my Santa too bringing me tons of goodies I've requested from the U.S. (mostly food from Trader Joes!), and then we'll travel around together. Highlights to look for in my future blog posts will be a deeper look into Bali's art and temple culture, a trip to see the orangutan in Kalilmantan, puppets in Yogyakarta… I'll don't know when I'll be able to post the photos nor my next blog post but I will keep the stories coming so definitely check in after the New Year!

Happy Christmas, New Year, Yule, Hanukah… See you next year!

Loksado

2008-12-10T21:35:00.001-08:00

Banjarmasin is a city that has its fair share of dirt and pollution. The rivers that run through it are a muddy chocolaty color due to the rainy run off from mining and presumably non environmentally sound construction practices and who knows what else. To that end, it is nice to know that some areas of South Kalimantan show the same purity Mother Nature intended. Loksado is one of these places.

Last weekend I experienced Loksado, one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen in person. Getting to Loksado requires about a 3 ½ hour 'taksi' to a small town called Kandangan. From there you hop on another hour long transport up a small and slightly windy road into the hills, past small villages and through a remarkable jungle. Accompanied by Puji and Citra, one of the students and friend from the University, I rode to Loksado local style. I rode from Kandangan crammed in the back of a truck carrying other passengers and supplies for some of the villages saving about 140,000 rupia by not hiring a car with a driver.

We stayed at a newer hotel in Loksado, a good rate and perched on a little island in the middle of the river right in the middle of the village. From there, we gathered some water, and our things and we went on a hike to the nearest waterfall. We left the hotel around 1:30 and it was going to be about a 2 hour hike in to the falls. Our guide was Darsani, one of Puji's students whose family lives in a small village down the river from Loksado. Having a local guide is important for a number of reasons. One is to have someone who can speak the local dialect, Banjarese, which may share some similarities to Bahasa, Puji says she really can't understand it. Another obvious reason to have a guide is a local knows where to go and how to get there. The third reason is to help prevent you from being the subject of black magic… or so I'm told.

Dyak tribes are the 'pagans' of Borneo. Some of these tribes were once head hunters, but still practice their old religious spiritual ways refusing to be converted to government recognized religion. It is unclear whether I met Dyaks while in Loksado, I saw no rituals, sacrifices nor heads on spears. My company wouldn't want to admit if the friendly people in these villages were Dyak… it would just be too scary to fathom. But the signs of Islam were most definitely not as evident as they are in Banjarmasin. Although I saw a Mosque in Loksado, I didn't see Mosques in any of the villages we hiked through. Women weren't covered and people lived their lives more in line with surviving in the Jungle and with the resources that were available right there such as using bamboo, extracting sap from the rubber trees and cultivating/drying spices for sale. The villages have longhouses where you can be invited to stay the night and sleep on a bamboo mat on the floor for a small fee. Although I know some Americans who have done this, we didn't. Part of the reason is my travel companions' worries of black magic. There are many stories, some claimed to be first hand or of a friend or relative falling victim to mysterious black magic pranks. One such is how the Dyak will cast a spell on your food and you will find yourself throwing up glass or pieces of metal or stories of the vampires and vampire ghosts, or the unborn baby missing from its mother's womb; stories for perhaps another blog post. These stories I find intriguing as part of the rich history of Borneo but my colleagues shudder in fear if they even hint about these stories to me.

So we focused on the beauty of the area. The 2 hour hike to the falls, what normally in my normal climate would have been fairly easy ended up almost causing me heatstroke at the 1.5 hour mark. Note to self: don't forget to bring pump water filter on next hike. The weather was hot and humid, mosquitoes were in full force, but despite these set backs, it was amazing and gorgeous. We zig zagged across the river over swinging suspension bridges that might make you wonder if they could support anyone's weight. But knowing many motorcycles use this path (and having seen it myself) I knew these bridges would hold and I walked across with full trust.

It was cooler at the falls and breath taking. We walked across a makeshift bamboo foot bridges onto the rocks around the fall and the cool pool of water. I released my feet from my hiking boots, dangled my feet in the pool and eagerly splashed myself with the water. After about 30 minutes there, we headed back. The hike to the falls was a gradual incline most of the way so needless to say it was faster getting back. A good thing too as it gets dark early here and it was already 4. Once we arrive to Loksado it had just gotten dark and luckily there were enough lights out so that we could see the path ways… at least until we got into the hotel room and then the power went out, Borneo style.

Our second and last day in Loksado was the day we went bamboo rafting which was the best rafting trip I've ever taken. We took a transport down the road to where a hot springs resort is. Bypassing the fabulous opportunity of being the only girl in a swimsuit (and the only bule), we decided to just go for the rafting trip before heading home. We walked through the small village, past our rafting guide's home with his curious family looking on then down to the river where the guide lashed together a seat for us on the bamboo raft in just under 20 minutes.

The rafting trip took about an hour and all I can say is look at my photos. I found it to be calming and soothing and if I ever had any doubt that we have a Creator or a God, this doubt would have been sincerely challenged while meandering through this beautiful scenery on Borneo. It really makes you realize how important it is to protect and sustain what gifts we've been given. I can honestly say that this will be one of my best memories here. And a worthy punctuation to this rafting trip was that it ended at Darsani's home (right on the river) where his mother cooked us an amazing lunch from things found right there on the riverside.

She served us rice, the soft meat of the bamboo plant cooked in coconut milk, boiled leaves from the sweet potato plant seasoned with garlic and onion, egg for me, river fish for everyone else, tea, and as much fruit as we could manage to carry home. I still have tons of rambutan (the hairy fruit) in my refrigerator. Hope I can eat it all or distribute it soon.

Bule Bule… or Being Thankful

2008-12-05T05:54:00.001-08:00

Bule, or bulai, is the term Indonesians use to describe people like me. It means a Caucasian individual but it pretty much refers to all westerners. So the call out to us is usually first "bule, bule" followed with a "Hello mister." Yeah, mister. Although I may have blogged this before, it stands to be repeated because over the past two weeks I've had a lot of 'bule' time and it surprises me how refreshing it is to not be a mister, or as my students call me "mom" a translation of "Ibu" which can be either Mom or Ms.

My most recent bule action was last night I went out to pizza with some of the local bules here. One was the roommate of one I met back in September (Americans) and the others are an Australian couple and their 6 month old baby. The baby, Jack, kept staring at me as intently as Indonesian children do. I think he was curious about the bule that wasn't his mother. Although the pizza isn't like home, the company was good and we hope to get together relatively soon again before everyone scatters for Christmas.

The biggest bule gathering was the fabulous Thanksgiving feast in Surabaya. Surabaya is the second biggest city in this country, of course Jakarta being the first. The U.S. Consul's house hosted the gathering. She wasn't there but others from the U.S. expat community were. This meant I had a real Thanksgiving with all the smells and flavors of home. There was roasted turkey (although I didn't eat any), mashed potatoes, STUFFING, cranberry sauce, STUFFING, pie… and of course STUFFING. About 7 of us ELFs were able to make it and then a large handful of the Fulbright English Teaching Assistants (ETA) were there enjoying the wine and festivities with us. It was good times.

To make this event even more special, I shared a nice hotel room with my ELF friends, we shared stories, had the hotel lights go out on us at a climactic point of a horror film and I had a couple of nice HOT showers. Oh bliss! Not all sites here are as sparse as mine but living in Indonesia really teaches you to live without… and, well, I'm still learning not having mastered this exercise. So I indulged… came back and experienced a days worth of culture shock once again. It was weird because I really thought I was over that. All the things that I had broken down and learned to accept over the past months came reeling back, the things I was happy to forget while in a more modern environment. What was even more surprising was how quickly acclimated back to my life in Banjarmasin. What helps the most is staying busy, teaching. What doesn't help is frequent cancellations of my culture and language class with the faculty on Fridays and my attempt to do collaborative workshops here with the teachers never seems to be able to launch for one reason or another. Banjar time, Banjar time, Banjar time: My mantra to help me try to understand. I really want to stay busy and really work with the teachers here but you know the famed Rolling Stones song "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

Another bule adventure I had last week was when I met up with my local ETAs, Dan and Emmy. They live about an hour from here and teach at pesantrens, the Islamic boarding schools. They definitely are more remote than me so coming into Banjarmasin is coming into the big city. We went to the floating market with my office mates. I kind of wondered what the hype was, especially since getting up at 4:30 was pretty tough. But I can now say that I did one of Banjarmasin's famous attractions. It is a real commerce event, not really a tourist attraction. They trade fruits and veggies out on the water and it is said you can get the best price here… but that also means you have to hire your Klotok (a wobbly motorized boat that takes you out to find these great deals) so maybe it balances out in the end. We bypassed the monkey island and from the stories I've heard of it, a good thing. I didn't want to slap any vile monkeys who are pretty aggressive while looking for food handouts from the visiting humans, another sign of man's disruption of nature's balance. My Australian friend, Mick, said one of them bit him on the back of the leg for denying it food.

Dan, Emmy, Puji and I also went to Snow World that same afternoon. It is essentially a big freezer on the way to the airport full of ice sculptures, a big snow slide and no photos allowed. Puji is great at showing us Indonesian style… pretend you didn't read the signs until the security guard says something. We got quite a few photos. It was fun to play on the ice slide and amazing to be in this cold environment that I didn't think I'd see until next winter. I also enjoyed witnessing Puji's intrigue with watching her breath exhale in small clouds. My first comment walking in there, remarking on the energy it must take to keep so much ice cool in Indonesia, was "Ahh, so THIS is why we've been having so many rolling blackouts!"

The Road to Kotabaru

2008-11-20T05:41:00.001-08:00

It's a long drive to Kotabaru. I found this out, first hand, this last weekend. Kotabaru is a small city on an island (Palau Laut) off the eastern coast of South Kalimantan. Looking at a map of Borneo you would think… "oh, not so far." And in fact you would be right. A flight to Kotabaru from Banjarmasin is under an hour. But if you look at a map that shows roads, you would see a road that winds close to the coast to Batalucin which is where you'd catch a ferry to the island. There are some mountains, or as I learned on this trip gunung, between Banjarmasin and Batalucin, making a direct crossover difficult. But this indirect route was not really the key reason the trip to Kotabaru took 9 hours each way. It was the road itself.

Originally we were going to get flown there but the plane used between these two cities was grounded for repairs. I say better to know before being in the air. So the organizers of the workshop offered to hire a driver to take us. Before leaving Banjarmasin I heard many different estimates as to how long it would take to drive there. 6 hrs was the lowest bid whereas 8 was the highest. Only after our driver picked us up did we get the most up to date travel time as he had come from there to get us. Oy, I thought…. Well I've been in an airplane much longer than this so I figured I'd just try to sleep and relax. Not at all possible because of said road.

The road, like the rest of us in Kalimantan, suffers from the whims of the rainy season. It's pockmarked with sinkholes that the drivers have to swerve around, weaving in and out of oncoming traffic. Some stretches the road were completely washed away leaving those bumpy craters my brother would be proud to 4 wheel drive through. The Lonely Planet makes no mention of this. They say it takes 5 hours by bus. My driver passed these busses, leaving them in a cloud of dust.

THE WORKSHOP

Once in Kotabaru, we ate and went straight to our hotel so I could get my beauty rest as my workshop was scheduled to begin at 8 the next morning. I was nervous as I usually am before meeting a new group of students. I had no idea what their level would be. I was about to teach a handful of high school English teachers, all with a variety of backgrounds. Kalimantan, and much of Indonesia, has a shortage of English teachers who have degrees in English. It seems that the ones who do have this degree want to be in the bigger cities and are unwilling to live in more isolated areas. So my students had educational backgrounds in Biology, Economics, Mathematics and only a couple with degrees in English.

The workshop lasted for a day and a half. The first day was set up to weave between theoretical background and real activities that implement more communication in English, less grammar translation. But their first reaction to me when I first began speaking was priceless. As excited as they were to see and work with an American, many of them cringed and gave me the wide eyed look of fear as if they didn't understand me. But I continued to talk in my teacher voice and once the initial shock wore off (within a few minutes) they were nodding and answering my questions and engaging fully in the activities I'd planned for them.

THE HEALER

As successful as this workshop was and as jazzed as I felt about working with these teachers, who showed themselves to be quite creative and motivated, my highlight of the trip was meeting Linda, whom I'm affectionately calling my healer. I may never meet her again but I have the greatest fondness for her which began the first day I was there.

To begin, she cooked all the food we ate and was sure to make special vegetarian arrangements for me full of a yummy variety of mushrooms and vegetables. She gets her coconut milk from the coconut, uses the best ingredients and knows a heap of information about what grows in the forest. I had noticed there was a forest behind the school and asked at lunch if I could walk around and take pictures. So they obliged me and she led the way. She showed me plants that were used for coughs, for helping women heal after birth and just pointed out things that your eyes would pass had you not known it was there. She didn't really speak any English so everyone translated for me but it didn't matter, I was in awe of this person. And only later did I find out more: she learned how to do traditional massage and was pretty good.

I had been battling a small cold the week before leaving but the long bumpy drive and the fact that I didn't sleep well in Kotabaru made it so that on Sunday I felt sick with some sniffles and a slight sore throat. I still had a couple of hours of the workshop to facilitate, luckily it was a group work brainstorming session at this point and the participants were now doing 90% of the work. But once I hit the two hour mark I needed a break and I was adamant not to let the organizers make me stick around without taking it. So I hurried up to our central "chill out" spot and Linda was there. I was coughing feeling dizzy and she encouraged me to get a massage. I didn't argue. It worked wonders. It was the break and attention I had needed for a while and helped me to feel much more centered.

We drove back that same day, leaving this beautiful island at noon. I really hope it doesn't get over developed with time and industry. What we didn't see on the way due to arriving at 10 pm at night was now illuminated in day light. This gave me an opportunity to see villages and the beautiful beach at Pagatan as well as some bits of natural rainforest. But what you've read about Borneo's landscape is true. I was recently emailed the most recent National Geographic article about what is happening to the rainforests here. (Thanks Cat!) The road we took happens to cut between huge expanses of palm plantations. Other areas show signs of having been cleared with charred jagged tree stumps poking out amongst some youthful green grassy growth as the land tries to recover. Palm oil: a fabulous new replacement for those trans-fat laden hydrogenated oils in those pre-packed cookies you and I adore and the base for many of the bio fuels we all know and love. And of course rubber trees, rice fields, all those tropical crops are here. Next week, I'm leading my speaking students to discuss this topic we venture deeper into our unit on 'discussing controversial issues.'

Kotabaru's key industry is cement. One of the main organizers of the event, I Nyoman Rudi (Rudi for short) is Hindu from Bali. He says there is a small (couple hundred people) Hindu community there. Although Kotabaru is primarily Muslim like Indonesia, the use of the jilbab (Muslim head cover for women) was far less than in Banjarmasin.

A Man Fishing Under the House

2008-11-08T18:47:00.001-08:00

Well it is most definitely the rainy season here. The most obvious of tell tale signs is… well it rains a lot. Sometimes it rains so hard that it pounds in the tiled roofs while I'm teaching. It can be so loud that all I can do is quickly yell out some group work directions and put the students into groups to talk amongst themselves. It makes it much more difficult for me to monitor their English output… or was that Banjarese for a moment? They are supposed to monitor each other… I've set that into their group work job descriptions but you know how language learners are. Those silly students will always gravitate towards the easiest path and the L1.

It was one of those intense rainy afternoons that I saw one of the best heart warming sights of my visit here. The rain had stopped and I was on my way back to the house after teaching. A young girl about the age of 6 was proudly stomping through puddles of water that had accumulated on the road leading into campus. She was happily occupying her time while waiting for her parents to finish their conversation with some other boring adults. Sadly I only had my camera phone to immortalize this joyous celebration of Kalimantan's famous rainy season. Just this last week I saw an article that the plain wooden 'stick' has been inducted into the toy hall of fame. This and the cardboard box are universal toys that open the child's imagination to wonders beyond our mere planet. Right? I too remember sitting in my cardboard space ship with my wooden light saver pointed at my annoying older brother. Well I nominate the mud puddle for the next round of inaugurations. That and a pile of autumn leaves. This girl was so simply happy jumping from the sidewalk's edge making the biggest splash imaginable followed up by her own "whoa!" of amazement and personal discovery… yes some things are universal.

But the highlight of the week was the man in the title… fishing under my house. Oh I know, it's bizarre but true! I couldn't stop laughing at the notion of someone fishing under my house. A rough translation of Kalimantan is "land of rivers." So what happens when you have this much water flowing everywhere? Well we basically live in a swamp, marsh, whatever you want to call it. The houses are built over this water, at one time on high stilts. Now the modern day house is built only a few feet from the ground. There is water under my house as with all other buildings here. I can hear fish splash and I'm sure other animals as well… under my living room! On Thursday afternoon last week, after I finished teaching, I saw a man standing next to my house, with a fishing pole pointed towards my foundation. Yes, fishing under my house. But really, aren't they my fish… on my property??? I didn't know whether to pretend to be incensed or just break into laughter. Actually I was not angry at all, it was the most surreal thing that I could think of to tell you about. And so that you would believe me, I got some photos from both outside and through my window. I have to say; so far this was the wildest cultural thing I could have ever imagined here! I certainly hope he was able to feed his family after trolling under my house!

An Expat on Election Day

2008-11-05T17:53:00.001-08:00

If there is anything that would make voting feel more important, it's probably living abroad. This is an amazing year to be living abroad. Indonesians here have been caught up in the fervor of the U.S. elections, but oddly, on Election Day, I was the only one who really wanted to be glued to sources of information.

I had conducted a series of culture workshops on U.S. elections and politics. We entered discussions of what characteristics are representative of a good leader and a successful politician. I also guided them through analyzing political cartoons filled with topics of the sinking economy, and politicians that never address the main issues by changing the topic or distraction tactics. The students loved it. The faculty culture class was all over it.

The day of the elections, as the polls were closing in each of the time zones in the U.S., I was watching speeches. It was the debate and speech competition week here at my University so I was sitting, listening and evaluating students' speeches on "A student's role for leadership." Although interesting to hear their take on this topic they couldn't compete with the best speech of the day: Obama's. Afterwards, my colleagues insisted that I go out to lunch with them, after all it was free as we were judges for the speeches…. But I had no appetite. I tried to encourage them to either come over to my house or let's go find a TV to find out who won, what happened! (It was about noon my time.) They just looked at me and smiled in their Indonesian way of saying… "It's not a big deal, just eat your lunch. Eating is important right now." It felt so odd at this moment to realize as much as the world watched and waited, it wasn't with the same intensity and anxiety as someone who had actually participated in the elections! How could I eat in a historical moment like this? Who won?

Two weeks ago, I cast my ballot. I found out through an ELF colleague here that Fed Ex would mail ballots for expats for free. With the Fed Ex office being so close, the hardest part was studying all the measures. Everyone here was so excited that Americans could vote by mail. It isn't the case in Indonesia. You must either show up to the polls or if abroad, travel to an Embassy. We really have it good! Perhaps they spent their excitement on my voting early… who knows but all the while during lunch I was visibly anxious and they just smiled in wonderment at me and talked about other things, like the student's speeches.

So I returned home, first turned on BBC news which was giving some pretty good and well rounded coverage of the event. It was already decided, according to the news scroll, Obama had secured 330 of the electoral votes at this point. It was a victory and yes I was very, very happy. (Probably to the disappointment of Uncle Curtis… sorry) I turned to the CNN coverage; yes the verdict was the same… of course! And within an hour, Obama began his very eloquent and unifying speech. I was in tears, excited, thought of all my friends at home who were celebrating and the party in Santa Cruz where Jacques was and I was with them in spirit as an expat in Kalimantan.

The Banjarmasin Post, the local paper, came knocking at my door to see how I was with the results and was I having a party? They knew how I felt, they had already interviewed me about it all last week and at that time I had given the reporter a U.S. Embassy issued booklet about the U.S. government for extra background knowledge. No celebration was planned for or by me last night but I am attempting to gather my friends (expats and Indonesians alike) who are living in Banjarmasin to have some fun, go to Karaoke etc. this Saturday. A celebration of… well, a new hope is in order. If you are in the neighborhood, stop on by!

Far from the Shire

2008-10-28T03:40:00.001-07:00

Last week was among the busiest since I've arrived here. Up to this point things have just been status quo with teaching my classes but now the requests for my ELF expertise are starting to roll in, or so it's beginning to seem. Last week I was a judge for the speech contest and debates. I also got an invitation to speak on Communicative Language Teaching in Kota Baru, an island just off the eastern coast of South Kalimantan. It's exciting to think of going but we're still negotiating the amount of time they want from us. They want me to run a 3 day workshop.. and did I mention with me leading it. I don't think I'm quite ready to do that, not to mention I also need to focus on my classes here and with a 3 day workshop that ends up being nearly impossible for that week. So I told Nida that we need to ensure that we don't do more than 2 days which is still quite a lot, however they are flying us there and putting us up.

But all these duties and requests for my skills had come at a week that I could feel my energy waver. More specifically, the will power that I'd been using to adapt to the new environment and stave off homesickness AND suppressing my culture shock had been dwindling and exhausting me. I knew I had hit rock bottom when my computer didn't turn on one morning and I felt like a ton of bricks fell from my heart right into my stomach. Such a simple thing (and a typical American addiction) was the straw breaking the camel's back for all the feelings I'd been bottling up.

I'm recalling a scene the film "The Fellowship of the Ring," the first in the Lord of the rings series, where Sam and Frodo are leaving the Shire and Sam just stops. Frodo turns around to see Sam's wistful face then Sam says, "This is it. This is as far from the Shire I've ever been." I can identify. This is as far from home I've ever been and the longest I've ever been away and possibly the most different culture I've ever experienced. The time away from home hit HARD last week as I crossed the threshold of month two in Indonesia.

So what have I learned so far from this? If you reach out to people many will reach back. Like a fisherman, I cast my net to find as many people as possible both here and at home with whom I can talk, laugh or just find out what's new back home. From this, I want to share a wonderful evocative quote from my friend Jessica who responded to my question of how she maintains an upbeat persona. These words, even pulled out of the context of her email to me just seem to hold so much power. "And when you are in the middle of figuring it out, it is so very exciting and delicate." For me, it's the duality (or even multiplicity) of feelings while confronted with negotiating a change in environment and perception that's important to confront and understand.

In all the intensity of goings on, I finally got my Kitas and most of my visa situation is settled. This means I can continue to work here and I also can get the prices the locals get for hotels etc. I still don't have a multiple entry visa. I have to go to (or pass my passport around) a few more government offices and I think now we have to get one more letter drawn up and sent to Jakarta. They changed their long term visa rules this year and I half wonder if they are still in the process of changing these rules based on how new things pop up every week. Even Nida and the other teachers who have accompanied us to the offices say "why didn't they tell us this last time we were here?" Luckily we got the most dire portion of it over and done before my 60 day visa expired; otherwise late fees would have ensued. So far I've paid around $70 U.S. for the extended 10 month visa and likely more for the multiple entry stamp. I'm keeping all the receipts for the taxes and crossing my fingers. The sad news about the delays is I was going to try to go to New Zealand this week to see some family, including my mom, for a family reunion… Not gonna happen.

In addition this busy week, I had a site visit from the ELF coordinator, Jeff last Thursday and Friday. I found a new fabulous restaurant that they took him to last year. They'd been holding out on me! Puji and I vowed to go back… she didn't know about it either. It's called Wong Solo, and has Javanese style food which is like what I'd experienced in San Francisco at the restaurant Boroburdur. A group of us went out to Karaoke too, always a blast. AND then this entire weekend I've been creating tests for the classes I've been teaching. Although I had been good about keeping notes about what I taught, I found myself trying to recall the subtleties of how I taught things in order to make those test questions have a sense of validity and not be a total surprise to the students. Even with a review… it's hard to know if I did it or not. Cross your fingers for my students! Hopefully I'm not torturing them too much this week. Next on the agenda: tons of grading before next week. Busy, busy, busy.

I am counting my blessings being here and taking the time to recognize the great things around me, and acknowledging it's not always going to be great… but isn't that the same everywhere? I have a wonderful group of colleagues who are helpful and friendly. It is also the rainy season which means it's cooler more of the time and hotter less of the time. And I've got something to look forward to: Jacques got his ticket to come visit and will be here at the end of December.

Oh and Happy Halloween! I am very sad to miss passing out candy. Someone will have to tell me what costume was most popular. And is the Castro still 'closed' this year?

The Light and the Dark

2008-10-15T02:00:00.001-07:00

Last weekend was full of the senses. To start with Puji and I did part of the Lonely Planet self guided walking tour in central Banjarmasin. We took a Kota Taksi to the big Mosque that is featured in my photos from last month (the one that is described by the lonely planet as a space ship). We missed our stop so had to back track by walking (not too awfully far). At the intersection by the Mosque we met a kind policeman who let us sit in his air-conditioned hut to cool off before crossing the street and continuing to the first stop: A Taoist Temple. Turned out the police officer is from Java. Puji is meeting quite a few Javanese here (she is also from Java) so now we're calling Banjarmasin "New Java."

The Taoist temple was amazing. Atop the entrance gate the yin-yang symbol is displayed full force. The guide told us that no matter how good you are you have a little dark inside and no matter how bad someone is they always have some light deep within. The temple is used for Buddhist worship as well as Confucian and Taoist ceremonies and prayer so the beautiful images we saw related to all three of these belief systems. Sadly my photos aren't that great but you can get a sense of it. It's not surprising to find bits of Chinese culture here. There are plenty of Chinese immigrants and business people here in Borneo.

After visiting the temple we walked to Gramedia bookstore where I bought a non-bootleg DVD of the Nightmare Before Christmas full on with Indonesian subtitles. Non bootleg DVD's in Banjarmasin run about $5 U.S. Bootleg… I hear the going rate is about 60 cents but don't ask if I know firsthand….

To finish off our walk we stopped at Depot 59, also listed in the lonely planet and I had Nasi Padang, similar to Gado Gado but with rice. It consists of peanut sauce, rice, cooked veggies, egg and maybe tofu or tempe. I think you can also get it with chicken. There I rehydrated with tea and water and then we went grocery shopping and picked up my new batik from the tailor that I in turn wore to the wedding party on Sunday. People think we are crazy for walking so much all the time. Nobody walks here, it's like LA.

The wedding party was in Martapura, which is about 1 hour away from Banjarmasin and is well known as a place to buy stones both precious and semi-precious. There are diamond mines in the area, as well as coal mines… So we went to the party (the actual wedding was a week ago) had some good food, took photos with the bride and groom and then headed to the market place in Martapura. We looked at and bought some beautiful stones and visited a beautiful mosque at the edge of the market. (See my profile picture and the photo link) I was complimented on my traditional Kalimantan Batik called Sasirangan wherever we went. A tailor even ran out of his shop and told me it was beautiful. I got quite a different reaction wearing this than I usually get walking around here. It seemed that they were impressed and full of pride that I wanted to wear this style of batik. Wearing this didn't change the amount of stares but it did conjure up more traditional respect from the locals in their interactions with me. Puji even commented on noticing this.

So these were things that were full of light and fun but living here is not without moments of darkness. The least of my worries was that we just had a power outage the other night that lasted for a couple of hours. I coped by doing some yoga in candlelight. Worse… I've had two incidences over the past two weeks where my water was turned off, once officially by the water company likely in part due to the half work days of Ramadan and there was some confusion as to which campus office receives the water bill and pays it! Then someone turned off my main line again last weekend… maybe they were trying to help with keeping costs down or the water dept. thought nobody lived here? I sincerely don't know but all I can say is I started to feel cranky when I couldn't take a shower in this hot and humid weather. But the saddest news of all, you may remember I wrote about visiting a young boy's family at the hospital while he was in the ICU a few weeks ago. Laela told me that he passed away the week I was in Bali. I'm beginning to think I can handle a day or two without running tap water.

The American and the “Yeti”

2008-10-11T06:04:00.001-07:00

For those of you who never believed a Yeti existed, I have news for you. I met one last night. But this one is much smaller than you'd think and she spells her name Yetty. She's an Indonesian girl from this city, very articulate in English and teaches at the private school Intrax here. I met Yetty in a not very surprising series of events that is entirely based on my nationality.

Being here at IAIN for a month means that word has been leaking out that there is an American teacher roaming around Banjarmasin. Aside from constantly being asked to ride on someone's motorcycle (generally following the question "where are you going?") and having camera phones pointed at me all the time, I'm most definitely talked about as the high point of people's day. I can just hear the dinner conversation. "Honey, I saw a bule today! I asked her 'How are you' in English!" <followed by much laughing and smiling> It is likely that I saw, met, waved to Yetty's mother in all the 'hi miss's' and 'hi misters.' She is also somehow connected to IAIN and knows Nida.

Earlier this week one hot mid afternoon while lounging under the AC at home between classes, Nida called and told me about this friend's daughter who knows some Americans in Banjarmasin, can she give her my number and then I can meet them… Why not? So this leads me to meeting Yetty which in turn led to my meeting the blog title's said American." Bet you thought I was referring to myself in the title of today's entry… I'm not THAT self absorbed!!

Last night, Puji and I met with Yetty and Jeremy, the man from Tennessee. We all went to a small restaurant across the busy street from the IAIN campus and I learned that he works for what sounds like a great non-profit U.S. based and Indo sponsored company. One of the things they do is help poor families/communities get good drinking water here. Indonesian tap water is NOT for drinking so many families who can afford it buy bottled water for a dispenser. If you can't afford it you boil it which takes time and energy either by burning expensive gas or burning who knows what (garbage, plastics, rainforest?) for a fire. One of the projects this company does is help the locals make ceramic filters much like the technology in the Katadyn one I brought with me. These will filter out all the bad guys and voila, drinking water. Oddly, I had read about these and other groups before coming here when researching safe drinking water. It was really cool to reflect back on that and know that like finding a needle in a haystack, I meet someone working on one of these projects. The company is called Oasis if you want to check them out.

Banjarmasin -- Post Ramadan

2008-10-09T03:08:00.001-07:00

I've been back now for a week at my host institution. We started classes on Monday, back to the white board. Things are different here now that I'm back and I'm only beginning to see what has changed after the Eidl Fitri holiday. First off everyone in this city whom I've been in contact with had been fasting for Ramadan, a whole month of fasting in the Islam Religion. Put Lent on steroids and you have Ramadan in Banjarmasin. Sun up to sun down nobody would eat or drink even a drop of water, except for menstruating women who have to make up the fasting time later. Restaurants were closed until about 6:30 pm but you could still shop at the stores for food.

Fasting apparently also applies to other worldly pleasures. Thanks to the ELF who was here before, I have cable hooked up in my home which includes HBO, Star Movies and Cinemax. During Ramadan, these channels were blocked during the day with Islamic programming in Bahasa Indonesia, English and Arabic taking their place. Now that Ramadan is over, I can lazily watch these channels all day if I want. The local government evidently is pretty strong in upholding the Islamic tradition. I was told by Nida, my counterpart that if a restaurant wishes to be open during daytime hours in the month of Ramadan, they have to pay a fee to the local government. She says this is to encourage respect for the traditions here.

Now that food is allowed during the day, there are so many more smells to experience. There are little cafeterias that I walk by each day on my way to class that sell food to the students and I can sometimes smell the cooking while I am teaching. That's rough. I was able to go out to lunch with Laela and Nida yesterday at a traditional restaurant. I didn't have my camera so I will do my best to describe it. First off, Nida asked if I eat fish, I said as long as I don't have to look at the head while I'm eating it, they all laughed at me. So they brought me the tail end which was quite meaty.

The restaurant was a covered open air roadside structure. It was sparse for decorations but the atmosphere and food was authentic. The floor was just old water beaten wooden planks, and like all buildings here was built a few feet above the swampy ground. The food was great, real sambal not the 'ketchup' version found in stores. I had nasi (rice) a spinach soup, and we shared a bowl of tofu, tempeh and these corn fritters that Nani will scold me for not remembering the name of. Sorry Nani. Cats were running around every where like they do here. While we were eating, a loud calico begged food from the dishwashing area and what I think was her tiny 4 week old kitten with eyes barely open mewed around the tables.

Today I was introduced to another restaurant that serves some of the best down home Gado Gado, and it's only about the distance of 2 city blocks from here! Lunch was only 6000 Rp (divide by 10,000 to get your $ amount) I also understand they serve some good grilled chicken (I saw it but didn't try any). Every region serves their own recipes: this place was serving chicken Jakarta style and Gado Gado Surybaya style which means to my taste buds that the peanut sauce was mixed with yummy coconut milk.

In addition to my new found love of Banjarmasin restaurant reviewing, I'm continuing my classroom prep. Presently I'm preparing for my Writing A class. After 2 weeks away from me, they haven't used any English, unless they were in my speaking class on Monday. I've been starting the writing class with a 10-15 minute journal writing exercise. I'll collect these journals the week before midterms and then the next batch the week before finals so at this point I don't know how well they are doing. I do know that when I glance around the room, they are pretty intent and it seems like I get at least a paragraph's worth. The goal is to promote writing fluency/confidence and hopefully give them a chance to go use the sentence structures learned in class, but it's a no pressure no grade (aside from participation) kind of assignment. Although I don't really know the true impact I have yet with these guys , I did just receive an email today from one of my students that said "I'm so happy when you come to teach our class." It's those moments that make all the difference, isn't it?

Read Down

2008-10-03T04:16:00.000-07:00

I am posting this random entry to encourage you to read down. If you are not getting these posts mailed to you then you might miss that I posted 3 Bali posts today: Fish Out of Water, What a Difference 30 Meters Make, and The Indonesia Everyone Wants to Live In.

No more Bali posts for a while tho. I'll be teaching over the next few weeks back in Kalimantan but hopefully I can soon plan to travel again.

Oh and thanks so much Mom for sending me the metric conversion application!

The Indonesia Everyone Wants to Live In

2008-10-03T04:14:00.001-07:00

Bali is wonderful and beautiful and I can see why people call this place a paradise. I really had the time of my life there with the diving, the walking, the sights sounds and smells, and I had a hard time leaving it, one week there flew past at warp speed. The weather is similar to Hawaii, balmy, warm breezy… Ahhh. But I am home in Banjarmasin, listening to the wild rains of Borneo nailing the street, my house and any pour soul who is brave enough to navigate through elephant sized rain drops.

I spent my last day in Bali in Ubud and only had the appetizer plate of Ubud… No make that the "to go eat-on-the-run" version of Ubud. One day is not enough for that perfect little artist town. I did get to see the Sacred Monkey Forrest. One came up and sat on Melinda's lap, hopefully I'll get the photos from the other ELFs for this part and some other things I saw and experienced there. I spent my camera battery on the cremation ceremony that we arrived just in time to see.

It was breath taking and amazing to be part of this ritual. I got some video and lots of pics for this. They carried a big tiered tower with the body inside to the cremation grounds, spinning and wobbling the tower around so that the spirit gets confused and won't try to find its way back home. The goal here is to be reincarnated or essentially reach nirvana. Of course with any funeral rite it's hard not to think about those you've lost before. I found this to be a good life affirming thing for me. I did feel a little weird, though, being a tourist at this event, shooting photos and video until I realized everyone including the locals were doing the same. So I attempted to keep a distance, but without knowing what would happen next, I found myself at times right in the heart of things.

If that wasn't enough to bring me to tears, the health food store 'Bali Buddha' almost did me in. I found quinoa, lentils and those great fruit and nut bars I like so much. And it had that familiar health food store smell, probably from those organic soaps. Images of San Francisco's Rainbow, Mt Shasta's Berryvale Market and Santa Cruise's Staff of Life just came flooding to me. (In case you can't tell… I am a little homesick for some things).

And of course you can't visit Ubud without taking in a shadow puppet show. This one was a story of a demon who kept eating people. It was full of heroic puppetry moves, great chase scenes a smattering of humorous English phrases bules hear all day (need a transport? Special price for you…) all the while hypnotizing the audience with the candle light the puppeteer behind the sheer screen wore on his head.

What a Difference 30 Meters Make

2008-10-03T04:02:00.001-07:00

So Ben (ELF like me) and I decided we just wanted to cruise around, get out of the main spots and walk/window shop. We walked for hours on Tuesday afternoon. It was fabulous. We headed north of Seminyak along the beach and cut through the 'restaurant' district. We had only one mission, he needed to buy a hammock and he had a place circled in the Lonely Planet. It was all just a good excuse for me to explore and have some company. We walked through streets that varied between shops and rice fields. We meandered around dogs lazy in the hot afternoon sun and then we got to the busy street where his hammock shop was supposed to be. They were no longer in business in Seminyak. So we kept walking, getting more tired and hungry and irritated with the sounds of the motorcycles and cars. Then Ben sees a sign, an Indo restaurant allegedly 30m off the road, through what looks like jungle.

We start to walk and end up at someone's house. Oops wrong path. We backed up and go down the other path on this great bamboo and tropical plant forest path. It was carefully tended to by the locals that live there…looks nothing like a resort landscape, very natural. We ended up at an outdoor restaurant right on the edge of a rice field. We paid Indo prices (not Seminyak prices) for our food. Fresh Gado Gado, lemon tea all for about $1 each. And the most amazing part was the ambient sound. All throughout the rice field were these hand crafted noise making fans. Essentially a hand made pinwheel blew in the wind which made something else turn and clank inside of a tin can. I'm sure you engineer wizards at home can figure this one out. We had walked from so much street noise right into a tucked away retreat with this hypnotic sound that was like a wind orchestrated gamelan ensemble. This was the first time I wanted to use the video component on my camera. I'll try to You-Tube it and then link it on the sidebar.

So the end result of the hammock mission wasn't quite as disappointing as I may have led you to believe. All day long we just took risks. Lets try this, lets go down this street… well our last turn before heading back the way of the beach, there, glowing in a heavenly beam of light through the clouds and angels (geckos) singing, was a hammock shop, where they make them right there (and sell them to Japan). It was randomly set in a sparse area full of rice fields. Who knew? And of course I had to buy one myself.

Fish out of Water

2008-10-03T03:53:00.001-07:00

So when I went diving on the USS Liberty wreck, the dive masters told us that there will be tons of fish because some of the other divers and locals have been feeding them in order to entice them to hang around the wreck. Feeding animals underwater is not really recommended say naturalists like me. It can ruin the habitat and then you get a bunch of pan handling fish just expecting you to hand them some food. What this means is when you do the Liberty wreck dive, you will be harassed by fish looking for a handout. They come up to your mask or respond to your hands if it looks like you are reaching for something in your pocket…even if you are only just adjusting your buoyancy. They all just want to be fed.

So walking along the beach and streets in Seminyak, Legian, Kuta area is just like this. "Transport? Transport?" Or "I give you good price, you try?" Once you start buying from one, others come swarming in, looking for that little bit of fish food you might have in your pockets. It doesn't matter if you are just "jalan, jalan" -walking- they all want to sell you something. There are tons of tourists in Bali. They don't call us "bule" there like they do in many other places, they call us tourists. It has altered the habitat because we do bring money, we do feed them… but you can't feed everyone and since we drive the prices up there, it makes prices for the locals high too. Just some food for thought.

For some pics of underwater diving, here's the link to Bali Scuba's gallery. I didn't take a camera down but I saw a LOT of these things (eels, mantas, turtles, etc).

Meters, Kilos and Centigrade, oh my

2008-09-26T05:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, If I could just take a moment and voice one iddy biddy complaint about the U.S. standard of education for children... Why, why why haven't we been properly taught metric conversions? Why? I have so much I could blog about on this but the most salient point I want to make is it makes traveling to other countries like taking a math test.

I've struggled with this concept off and on since I've been here but I complain about it now because of my two days of diving in Tulumben where it would have been most useful for me to have been fluent in metric conversions. I am now officially an Advanced Open Water diver. I just completed three days of diving, 5 dives in Tulumben for the Advanced Open Water course and 2 dives today at Nusa Penida... a drift dive. For this course I did a naturalist dive (learning about fish and habitats), a wreck dive (the USS Liberty), advanced navigation (swimming in a square pattern with compass headings), a night dive (diving at night), and a deep dive to 30 meters which is about 100 feet. Depth gauges here are measured in meters, water temperature is in centigrade and well, I had to wear 8 kilos on my weight belt. So As you can see, I'm well on my way to finally understanding conversions... or at least having a better handle on them.

So why didn't I bring my own gauges? Sadly my dive computer didn't make it to me in Banjarmasin before I left for Bali... I think it's there now though, but that's doing me no good. So I ended up using the dive center's (Bali Scuba) gear. And it wouldn't have mattered because they all talk in metric here. So it looks like I have to learn Bahasa Indonesian, Banjarese, a smattering of Balinese, maybe some Javanese and of course Metric, I better bust those books! In any case, they were fun dives, I highly recommend these people if you are coming to dive in Bali.

The drift diving was amazing. You basically drop down into a current and just go with it. We went along a huge reef with millions of fish and other marine life. Just amazing. At one point the current got pretty strong and you had to hug close to the reef so as not to get swept along out towards the sea. I'll blog more details later and of course pics (none from below... sorry) once I'm back in Kalimantan.

Advice for you folks back home: Learn your metric!

The Changing Faces of Reality

2008-09-23T05:09:00.001-07:00

I just finished my last class before my week in Bali. Yes a short vacation is upon me. It does mean I need to get up at 4 A.M. tomorrow but big deal… I'm going to Bali!

I've been teaching now for 3 weeks and have settled into a regular routine of things, for the most part. My class schedule is pretty set but I have other things that have been taking my time and of course I'm always looking for some leisure time to go to Duta Mall with Puji and just hang out, walk around the Hyper Mart and have strange kids approach me and yell "Hello mister!" I told my students about this, we all laughed. They assured me that it's the only word they probably know. I assumed as such but some how I wonder if I should grow a moustache just to fit in with their perceptions.

It's weird how in many ways I'm getting used to it here. My home has quickly become my refuge to relax in at the end of the day. My bedroom eerily has the exact same layout and dimensions of my childhood bedroom growing up. This last week I noticed that out of some old habit from the recesses of my memories I was reaching for the light switch next to the door but only to realize that in this place it's on the other wall. When I come home I call out "hello" to my roommate… a rat, when I walk in. He still freaks me out when I see him scurry across the kitchen floor but I'm opposed to poison and traps so I just keep it clean, food sealed up and assume he's probably eating scraps from the cantina that is shares a wall of my house. He might disappear when I leave this next week as there won't be even a stray grain of rice that was somehow dropped in the frenzy of measuring and pressing buttons on the rice cooker.

Last week I laid low and didn't have anything eventful to speak of except being invited to breaking the fast with the students one evening. They held the event at the auditorium next to my house, drummed, sang from the Koran and then gave everyone there food. Also I got a chance to visit the hospital. Nida and some other teachers invited me to join them to visit a lecturer's son who was sick. We went to the hospital thinking we'd get a chance to see the child but he was in ICU. He's grade school age and has had a type of immune system attack or allergic reaction. It's apparently unclear why, but one suggestion is that it's a reaction to MSG however I'm told this particular condition happens more commonly in older people here. The women talked with the mother for about 20 minutes, comforting her, quite an emotional event to witness. Laela, one of my co-teachers in the English department talked to the mother the most. Both were crying. Just last week when talking about my grandmother, Laela had told me that about 5 years ago she lost her son to cancer. He was very young too. I asked Laela how she was holding up as we were leaving. I told her that I imagined coming here today must bring back memories. She said yes.

Since I will be underwater for the most part in Bali and living in another world, blogging will probably not be easy over the next week. I'll be taking an advanced open water diver class and joining a dive group as well as reconnecting with some Fellows, getting in some bule face time. But I promise to take a ton of photos at least above water and maybe some from below as well and tell you all about it when I return to Banjarmasin next week.

I wish I could be there with you

2008-09-17T05:38:00.001-07:00

Homesickness is definitely something I've prepared myself for. I was even proactive about it by packing my favorite chocolate, breakfast oatmeal, and those movies that I've watched over and over again. But the hardest thing I will probably experience is the news I knew would eventually come since before I left. No matter how much mental preparedness you have about it but nothing can make you 100% ready to lose someone important in your life. Just yesterday, I got news that my grandmother, one of the most amazing women I've ever known, passed away: her body was just too old to house her active spirit.

It's going to be hard not to make this blog entry carry notes of sadness, but I think it's important to express that being so far away and doing something so amazing has its costs. Part of experiencing something new means letting some things go: some temporarily and others for much much longer. My grandmother has been the greatest inspiration for the adventures I've taken in my life. She was originally from New Zealand and has always had the explorer's spirit and was also very creative. She sailed, traveled, and continued to pursue her art in form of painting, drawing, photography and jewelry making. AND she could make a mean pie. I am so very fortunate to have learned many of these skills directly from her. I can sincerely say that I know she lived a full life.

I came to Indonesia knowing she would not make it through the year, I said my goodbyes and gave her a hug. She encouraged me to come here, I'm sure she would have been more than interested in coming with me if she could have managed. Nevertheless, it is a loss that I feel deeply. I am lucky to have very supportive people here In Banjarmasin as well as supportive friends and family back home and am able to contact them in an instant thanks to the fabulous net and the intermittent Skype that is at times fraught with delays and echoes. I tried to make as much peace as possible before coming here in knowing I won't physically be with my family at this time but I wish I could be there with you.

It’s Always Hottest Before the Rain

2008-09-12T19:19:00.001-07:00

I know that title sounds a little like a proverb but it's the truth in Borneo. I can tell when it will rain based on how hot it gets just before the clouds gather and let loose. I think this is one of those laws of thermodynamics, Cat, you're teaching Chem this semester maybe you can tell me which one. Puji and I were standing in line at the big Macro store, looks and feels like an Indonesian Costco, but you don't necessarily have to buy in bulk. We complained about how hot it was… I said global warming but I realized with her response that they don't have global warming. She smiled and said "global hotting." Yes global hotting here. I asked people and they say yes, they've noticed a climate change over the years. What do they say… "admitting the problem is the first step?" I hope the gulf coast is weathering Ike okay. Alright, enough of the weather, by the end of this month I won't notice how much I need to rehydrate anymore. It's becoming a way of life.

And week one of teaching has come to a close. My schedule isn't half bad. I teach 12 units (about 12 hours) and that's comprised of 2 sections each of 6 courses. All my regular classes meet on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. These students are in the English department at IAIN and aspiring to be English teachers. This semester I'm only teaching skills courses: Speaking and Writing A as well as Speaking C. Each class only meets once a week so coming from the intensive English program at SFSU's ALI where students met 4 days a week I wonder "how will they learn this stuff?" My curriculum plan merely gives a suggested topic which I'm free to expand on or change. For example next week's writing A class will do "basic sentences and compound sentences" and that's all that is in the curriculum for this 2 hour class meeting. They have some books I can use to pull activities from and I brought my own so I'll be supplementing and if time permits, making handouts. Since copyright laws aren't even considered here, it's common to tell students what books/pages you will cover and they go and copy it themselves. I've been lazy, though, and need to buckle down. The plan is to get the core materials up through week 6 settled and then get the latter half of the semester settled once I really see what these guys can do.

They are not half bad with their English and comprehension skills except in the afternoon during Ramadan when they all have that glazed over look like they are ready to go take a long nap and any attempt comprehend English is just way more energy than they can possibly spare. I have a multilevel class and had to explain (more to the higher students so that they don't try to answer everything I ask) that I want to make sure everyone is following. I speak slow, long pauses with simple language, comp check… all the usual tricks. Level A is probably just below ALI's level 42 (which doesn't mean anything unless you're one of my colleagues at home). They are always smiling and look at my height with amazement. And of course attempting to pronounce their names will be my comedy act every week.

On Wednesdays I will run a discussion group with the rector and vice rectors and other administrative staff, at some point, maybe this will start next week. A big word I hear around here a lot is "maybe." Side tracking for a moment, in DC during our Pre-Departure Orientation it was suggested to really look at body language and intonation with this word "maybe." Yes, good advice, but I also realized that most of the time "maybe" really means "maybe" and it is part of the cultural consciousness here. In some ways it's comforting and in some ways very Buddhist (even thought they are Islamic). I'm finding it hard to explain what I mean so I will just continue with listing my schedule…

And on Fridays I have the discussion group with the faculty from all departments. Last week 10 came, this week about 10 but some not all the same people. These meetings are by invitation and optional so it's up to them to come. Yesterday I addressed opinion language and began discussing the answers to their questions from last week, especially the one about families and the idea of "independence" since that seemed to be a hot topic. One teacher asked me about the idea that 18 year olds leave home and parents don't take responsibility of them after that. I said yes, generally/somewhat true, I gave them a general sense of what that means for many, not all Americans and then gave my own story of my dad saying "You can stay here as long as you are in school (college) but if you drop out of college then you will need to move out and you are 'on your own.' Then they got into groups and expressed opinions as to what is positive or negative about the way children become independent in the U.S. They are a very thoughtful group. To briefly boil down the results, they came up with the idea that kids can learn self sufficiency, responsibility, and succeed in life easier and faster, but the down side is disrespect for others and selfishness… the notion of 'too much independence and self sufficiency'. This was a very cool discussion.

You too can be a teacher of American Culture!

2008-09-06T02:41:00.001-07:00

It's been a slow start here in terms of teaching duties and to be quite honest I have been lazy about preparing much. The students arrive for classes this Monday but this last week have been full of meetings where the English language featured was under 10%. I sat through one thinking "why am I here?" Between you and me, had it been in English I probably would have said the same thing.

I had my first class on Friday with the faculty of IAIN. It went well and I felt good about it. I've been itching to do some teaching so this was a good start. I had a hard time getting my brain wrapped around preparing something at first but then ultimately decided a mini lesson on giving and getting directions would be good. I based this on my own experience here in Banjarmasin. I still don't know how to ask for directions in Bahasa Indonesia and don't feel quite comfortable going out without company, so for teaching it was at least relevant to me as a newcomer.

I kept the lesson it simple, a review I'm sure for them but it built confidence. At the end I had partners role play giving directions to a famous place in or around Banjarmasin while the rest of the groups scored them like Olympic judges. At the end of this task., I decided I would give them a chance to write down a question for me that they have about American Culture and that I would attempt to answer it each week. A lighting bolt of inspiration hit me upon collecting these. I though about you: my friends, family, and colleagues who are there in America now (or other places). Wouldn't it be great to have your opinions represented? So I will post their questions for you to view and you may choose to answer as many as you like. Remember, I teach on Thursday US time so in order for me to include your opinion, I'd need your response by your Wednesday. (Just in case you didn't know, I have passed the international dateline and am enjoying the same day of the week as my Kiwi rellies). And IF you are in or from New Zealand, I'd love to include you into "Western Culture" for contrast and increased diversity. My goal by the end of my 10 months is to potentially confuse the Indonesians' current perceptions of the western cultural norms and demonstrate that there are as many perceptions on culture as there are people in the world. So here goes!

Do most Americans believe in ghosts? What kinds of ghost are they? Vampire or others from TV/Films?
What do Americans think about black cats?
Could you tell me about your etiquette in the American family?
In history, Americans like sailing/having adventures. Do they still do it now? And what is the motivation?
Why is racism always a topic to discuss in the American News? How is it actually the fact?
What is the customs for American life in winter? Is it the same or different than Indonesia?
Can you tell me about music and country music?
What kinds of clothes do Americans wear? (Keep in mind I, the teacher am dressed conservatively.)

Please explain American Culture including norms, values, beliefs, religion, what is right and wrong? (A big question that I will essentially address throughout the entire year)

The Wild Rain of Borneo

2008-09-03T04:14:00.001-07:00

It's not the rainy season, yet, but it may as well be. It's been pretty wild all day long, the weather. Sadly, photos don't do it justice although I tried. The positive side to the rain is it has cooled down a bit. Did I mention that Banjarmasin has been hot and humid? Well now it's just humid.

I haven't had much to blog about lately since I've pretty much been holed up in the house reading through teaching materials. This is in part because Nida wanted to make sure I was registered with the Police Department before I go out wandering around unsupervised. Honestly, I'm not ready to go around without some company because my Bahasa Indonesia is not up to communicative standards and forget the local Banjarese dialect. So today was the last step in making sure the local government knows I'm here and clear for wandering. Nida took me to the prosecutors office where I met with him and his staff. We had a fun conversation translated between me and the boys who probably understood at least half of what I said.

Every where I've been where I've met someone in their office such as the prosecutor or the Rector at the university (IAIN), I'm offered water, sweets, other drinks etc. Here's where I've been facing my biggest cross cultural dilemma. Currently it is Ramadan, the month of fasting, and everyone who's Muslim is fasting until about 6:30 p.m. each day. Generally you don't want to eat or drink publically in front of a fasting population, definitely rude. So the question in my mind has been," Are they just being polite and hope I politely refuse or is it custom to accept graciously?" It's the latter. This is a very gift giving culture and it is important to bring gifts and receive gifts, all the time. So when the prosecutor asked if I wanted something to drink or eat, I started to say I was fine but Nida made a barely imperceptible nod type of body language that was probably even subconscious on her part, but I interpreted it as prodding me to "yes" and "thank you". I was then offered a generous array of drinks and candy dishes full of various sweets to choose from. Everybody seemed fine and happy that I took some water and was encouraged to bring the sports drink with me when we were leaving. And so the intercultural lesson learned during Ramadan here: if they offer and say its okay, then it's okay to politely and discreetly eat and drink in their presence.

We then went for a drive to the big bridge crossing the Sungai Barito, Banjarmasin's largest river. Continuing on this road would have meant going towards Central Kalimantan. The view was amazing, especially with all the rain and the moody sky. Looking out from the height of the bridge, I could also feel some pangs of sadness for the rainforest. There were big expanses of cleared land that are used for rice fields and other types of cultivation. Sadly, the rainforests of Borneo are disappearing and it's a complicated issue here as it is anywhere rainforests are being depleted. Seeing these flat lands that were likely once full of rich and diverse plant and animal life warns of what I am sure I will encounter when I venture to one of the national parks to search for the Orangutan later this year.

In the city of Banjarmasin during Ramadan, food vendors are set up pretty much everywhere you turn, more than usual. Near the city center is an area where booths with blue awnings lined the street all with Indonesian food: lots of fried chicken, fried tempeh, huge river shrimp (that I believe is a type of crayfish) and other Indonesian favorites that I'm still learning the names of. This was our last stop today. We were barely there 10 minutes when the rains began again, bigger and heavier than ever. I'd say that I'd worry about floods here, but Banjarmasin is already flooded. My house is built over a pond with fish flopping around, catching mosquitoes I hope.

Saya Dari Amerika and a Visit to a Mosque

2008-08-30T16:38:00.001-07:00

I arrived in Banjarmasin, Borneo around 6 pm Thursday evening. We were met by Puji, a new teacher here who was the counterpart of another ELF last year in Malang, Java. While we were landing, it was amazing to see the amount of green and the huge river called the Sungai Barito. The sun was already very low in the sky at this point. It will take some time for me to remember that it gets dark earlier so close to the equator.

My first day here, Nida, my counterpart took me around to meet the staff of the English department and then shopping for my cell phone. Sadly, T-mobile wasn't able to send me the proper unlock code for my old phone… the one with all those phone numbers and pictures. I hadn't slept well at all Thursday night so I was much more vulnerable to the heat. By the end of the afternoon of shopping for groceries and other things I'll need for the first week, I was severely hit with heat stroke. I won't complain about no warm running water for showers because all I really want are cold showers here anyway.

My house is basic. Although there are glass windows, there is an open air section above the window that is screened in. It means hearing all the sounds of the campus. I hear the children of some of the students playing kick ball right now as I type this. Early in the morning, I hear the prayers at the mosques. It is eerily beautiful.

While out yesterday with Puji, I was able to take lots of photos of Banjarmasin. I was the celebrity in town. Every where we went I heard "bule! Bule!" Which means "westerner" or
"foreigner" Little kids stared at me in awe. All the Banjarese wanted to be in my photos, with me, even if they may never get a copy. People asked Puji where I was from. I was at least able to say 'Saya dari Amerika.' By mid afternoon Puji asked me if I minded coming with her to a Mosque so she could pray. "Of course" First off they wanted me to wear a Hijab, the head wrap for women before entering. I put it on and the men and women around were watching intently. A couple said "oh, beautiful!" I just smiled and said "terima kasih" thank you. We had to take off our shoes. Puji had already done the ritual wash, a splashing of water, before entering and we went in. I was told not to take photos inside. Puji believed it was just not to disturb others who were praying so she insisted on taking my picture while inside. As my usual careful self, I tried to discreetly hand her my camera inside of my hat. Silly in retrospect because nobody seemed to be looking or seemed to mind. The mosque was very beautiful as is the custom of many spiritual places of worship.

A Tearful Goodbye

2008-08-25T07:24:00.001-07:00

I arrived in Jakarta today, a little disoriented but enjoying the cultural differences none the less. Motorcycles and scooters are everywhere. While riding in the van, it felt at times like we were surrounded with swarms of buzzing bees. I was picked up from the airport without hassle. The other "taksi" drivers didn't even have time to swoop in to try to bring me to my destination, well except for one. Ironically I had just made eye contact and a nod to my driver who was holding a sign for me. The other random driver stepped out in front of my driver with full force, "Maam, need a ride?" Armed with "tidak, tidak usah" I told him "not necessary". This was met with a sense of confusion. I know he didn't expect me to reply with an Indonesian phrase. I just smiled and gestured to the man behind him. He said, "oh, I see!" and proceeded to jump out in front of other Westerners leaving Jakarta's intl. airport.

What feels like just a few sleepy hours ago, I was saying good bye to Jacques at the airport. I'd been so busy finalizing things, going to DC for my pre departure orientation that I hadn't had time to fully understand what I was about to go do. On top of the stress of getting everything packed in bags weighing less than 50 Lbs (impossible), we'd just come from our dear friends', Wendy and Kishore, spectacular Indian wedding… wow add that in the mix of saying good bye to your loved one. By the title, of this post, you can imagine it was emotional for both of us. We kept waving at each other until he couldn't see me any longer past the security check point high tech machinery. We're looking forward to him coming to visit for about a month in late December. Also we're all set up to communicate in this great technological age of web cams and Skype. And of course it was tearful to say good bye to the cat. He knew something was up but he didn't quite understand why I wanted to smother him with hugs and tears so much as I was leaving the apartment to go to the airport.

The reality of what I'm embarking on comes in waves. There are times when I think of how exciting this will be. While in DC I was not only inspired by meeting the teachers coming here to Indonesia but I also with some other great people who are going to teach in other countries. I spent a lot of time just feeling motivated and excited while talking to people during our breaks. But under the surface and sometimes very faint there are always these little pulses of a more primal emotion that resembles a mixture of fear and confusion. This emotion emerges when I'm at my most vulnerable: half sleeping in an uncomfortable contorted position on the plane, waiting for my million Lb. bags to come around the carousel, or the cat nap at the hotel where all of a sudden perspective makes a drastic shift and 10 months seems like a lifetime. I predict all these things will fade as I get involved in my project…. Now I'm off to go eat gado gado while the camera battery charges.

Preparing for Departure

2008-08-25T07:07:00.001-07:00

So the photos in the slideshow that have been up for weeks are courtesy of Sussanah, the ELF who was teaching at my assignment all last year. Yes that is my house, classroom, potential students and pizza delivery system.

The last couple of weeks before leaving had been spent putting my ducks in a row by amassing all the material things I want and need for this trip. Now I enter into the information gathering mode. Washington DC, where all the ELFs come together and learn everything about this program from the bureaucratic record keeping and expense report end to special teaching projects we might get involved with.

The pre-departure orientation (PDO) in DC was interesting and informative but a big info dump that takes time to process even having had read through the handbook. Like any bureaucratic system, there was a lot of paper and many ways to make sure people get the point. Knowing how to submit expense reports was a big take away from this. We're paid as an independent contractor which basically boils down to "save all your receipts." Sadly DC came and went so fast that I didn't have much time to see much even though the Smithsonian and Capital were visible from my room. I did walk around a bit and assuming all goes well (at some point soon) with the photo uploads you should be able to see some of what I saw.

I won't waste your reading time explaining all that happened in the meetings but if you are reading this because you want to join the program, read the handbook that is linked to the English Language Fellows website. It will give you a run down of most of what the PDO is all about.

T Minus 2 Months

2008-06-05T22:29:00.000-07:00

I'll leave for Indonesia in just under two months and the planning and excitement is already in full swing. On approximately Aug. 25th, I'll arrive in Indonesia for a 10 month assignment teaching English in the city of Banjarmasin on the Island of Borneo. Why? Funny, I keep asking myself this question now that it gets closer (I'm just a teensy bit scared). Four months ago I would have said to have a little adventure and to understand the world and another culture a little better. This is still true but as I near departure, I'm looking around a lot more and noticing my own culture and environment, the things I'll miss and the routine that I'm used to. Maybe it's good to do this now, to kind of say good bye (or at least a "see you later") to San Francisco because Indonesia will be vastly different in many ways.

To give a little background, after graduating this year with my MA degree for teaching English, I applied for the English Language Fellow Program, a program that is run through the U.S. Dept. of State. This program places English Teachers in countries all around the world for a 10 month period where we will teach English, English teaching methods and share American culture.So, I'm going to Borneo, known in Indonesia as Kalimantan. It's the third largest island in the world with one of the most diverse species population in the world. So what's so scary about going to this exotic place (besides the comforts of home)? I can name plenty starting with malaria, dengue fever and other tropical diseases. I anticipate culture shock and, oh and did I mention, it will be hot and humid? To begin preparing for these exotic diseases and also to be cleared to leave with a clean bill of health I've turned myself into a human pin cushion (vaccinations and tests) and will have to be a pin cushion once more in another six weeks to get some follow-up vaccination boosters. YAY! Lukily I'm not the 'afraid of needles' type and the U.S. Gov has lots of information about international travel online including recommended vaccinations, warnings, visa info. etc. AND if anyone is worried about me traveling to Indonesia (or you coming to visit) Indonesia was taken off of the U.S. travel warning list earlier this year.