Batiking Genius

I don't know where the Batik Genius lives, but I am sure having fun trying new techniques!

There's One in the Passenger's Seat, Take My Word for it!

My Only Friend

My only friend is barely1 inch long and greenish-gray. His name is Pete or Subroto, whatever seems catchier to you. He used to be shy but now he darts brazenly out from behind the frig to try to eat the scraps from whatever delicious thing I happen to be feasting on at the minute. I try to consummate our love affair with a little tickle on his belly, but he is playing hard-to-get and darts back under the frig. He invariably waits until I go to my bed to lie down or the porch and then comes out to nibble again.

I used to have lots of friends in Yogya, or at least three. But my Indonesian teacher friend moved to Jakarta for a job. And my other friend is always busy with her own life. My friend Edo is sick with the flu and also recently got a job as a stockbroker/stock advisor. It still makes me laugh to see him in a button down shirt and tie but it doesn’t cure my boredom to have him working all the time. What’s he thinking, really, holding down a real job instead of gallivanting around with me?

So, I have to content myself with the glimpses I get of my little greenish-gray buddy. I know Pete will become my close friend in time. I have fantasies about him curled up next to me on my pillow. He is one sexy gecko.

Bitch Sessions

Edo likes to pick me up on his pink bike with a daisy sticker on the front and take me to eat lotek after a long day at school and the office, respectively. We sit at the floor booth, eat and bitch about the problems we are presented at work. I bitch about coworkers, confusion and disorganization. He bitches about stress, confusion and money. We sit there for hours saying what we hate and giggling a lot. I enjoy talking with a Javanese person who will confess to feeling hate.

After a recent bitch session, Edo and I went back to his house to wait for a friend of the family that he wanted to play a practical joke on. She didn’t show up but I did get to meet his sister who is a model and she got me all excited about photographing her all hoed out in front of some of the great graffiti or popping out of a becak. She lives in Jakarta but she is planning to come back and I hope she does because I am envisioning something great.

Then, we went for a second dinner with his aunts and driver/friend Ary who is also the karaokeing star mentioned in a previous post. Edo and I tried to convince Ary to sing at my birthday party the entire dinner. Also we discussed the logistics of renting a toy train to pick up my guests. Ary claimed if anyone saw him arrive on a kids toy train, he would be fired and I argued he wouldn’t want a boss who was so judgmental anyway. He said he would ride his motorbike and I told him that would only be acceptable if he attached a rope to the train and held on while on his bike. He didn’t like that idea.

I tried another tactic to make him sing; blackmail. Another night we had gone to play pool with Ary and Audi and Ary used an id that had his photo on it but someone else’s name. I told him I’d report him and his fake id to the police if he wouldn’t sing at my party. He just laughed. I said maybe my friends might even tip him. He laughed and said his [pregnant] wife would have to work on the street hoeing three days to make as much as he would make in one night, or something to that effect. He is Maduran…you know those Madurans are. Well, you probably don’t but suffice it to say they are rumored to be rough around the edges.

So, I sure hope he shows up at my party ready to sing. I’ve got the polisi headquarters number on speed dial just in case.

Getting Better

What have I been doing lately, you all ask? (By all I mean the two people that read this blog.) Not a whole hell of a lot. This week, I have a total of two classes, one on Tuesday and one on Thursday, interspersed flawlessly so I can’t leave town. The transition from activity and friends to no activity and no friends is always hard for me to make. I had some ETA friends in town for the past few weeks and was in Bali visiting Hillary. But, I’ve hit a dry spell and the first few days I did a lot of moping. Thought about all the things I could be doing. Preparing for the future, looking for jobs, checking my finances, lesson planning (for classes I may not teach…but still it would be an activity). Instead, I just felt sorry for myself and sat around acutely aware of my hunger but unwilling to go across the street to the angkringan and get some fucking fried tempe. Well, I finally got some after a few hours of deliberation and felt better.

I have slowly been accomplishing more, even only small things, things that do make me feel more sane. Yesterday, I went to the gym and worked out for a long time and my back felt so much better. I also walked to the photo store and picked up some photos of my students in their creative costumes from midterms. And, I stopped at the grocery store and bought some junk food along with some delicious fruit to make me even happier. One of my favorite activities is watching one of my bootleg, already viewed-about-5-times movies while peeling and eating pounds of dukuh (maybe my favorite fruit ever).

I called my batik teacher and finally started getting lessons. He came over and explained some dye theory to me. I am attempting to make silk scarves. I also cleaned my house because although I appreciate the cleaning the guards do, it is quite cursory.

So, I am feeling better. My birthday is coming up and I am having a celebration on Saturday. Hopefully, I will know how to bounce back quicker when the last guest has gone home.

I admit I still obsessively check my cell phone for new messages every 30 seconds but that may never change even when I am otherwise entertained and totally happy.

Attack of the Four-Foot Men

Today at the teachers English class, one of the office assistants who is in charge of feeding the teachers before class, wanted to know if I had eaten. He could have asked me but asked Cherry, my coworker. I answered his question and he kept ignoring me steadfastly and said something to Cherry, this time I didn’t catch the meaning. I asked Cherry and he had said “I don’t know how to talk to her!” That seemed feasible and passable but then thought about how rude that would be in the US! One of my other co-workers told everyone I speak some Indonesian, but still 7 months into my working there, some people are still afraid to approach me, much less make eye contact. These are guys I see almost weekly for the total ordeal that is copying at SMA 3.

Another 4-foot man scenario: I went into the office to make some copies. No, I am not allowed to make my own. I asked for copies and another of the small men looked hesitantly at the machine and said, “But, you see, it is not on.” And I said “Oh, okay. Can we use it though?” “Yeah, but it is dead.” “Oh, okay.” So he and I loiter around uncomfortably, neither understanding the other and a second man (slightly taller) walked in to turn the copy machine on and confirm and reconfirm which pages I wanted copied and how many times. The 4-footer got back to what he was doing before…standing on the counter tying the large glass windows closed with packing string.

This man also delivers letters and announcements to the teachers. He likes to hover in the corner of the teachers’ room at a desk near the water cooler. I feel him cringe when I come near to fill my water bottle. When I smile, he nervously laughs. I wonder if I make these men are incredibly nervous because I am different than them or just much taller than them? I have to watch to see their reactions with other women my height…actually very hard to find at my school.

Reasons to Come Visit Me in Indonesia

1) Creambaths…heavenly.

2) Lippo Bank has a ping-pong table set up right by the ATMS. After withdrawing money, you and the bored guards can play your hearts out.

3) You may see men in one becak, one squatting on the front and happily laughing hello, just like I did the other day.

4) There is a pimped-out becak for sale near my house and I don’t quite have the money for it…we could be rich, bitches!

5) You can clean your dishes with a sock in my kitchen. The sponge was mysteriously and oddly replaced.

6) My guards sing and dance. Today it was Javanese gamalan, tomorrow it may be The Beatles.

7) You can meet the music teacher who likes to talk about “two mountains” in English class. You can meet everyone else in the class who think this is appropriate English class fodder.