For those of you looking for some quick reading, this might not be the entry for you. This entry is gonna be quite long as it contains bits and pieces from the first week here...and quite a lot has happened in one week.
I should preface this by saying if any of you find bathroom-humor offensive or sophomoric, I suggest you skip this first part of the entry because it is almost entirely about my first bathroom experience here.
Well I’m about 4 hours into my trip as of right now, but I have only been in my apartment for about 45mins. You know the saying “truth is stranger than fiction,” well I have a strong feeling most of my trip is going to be much stranger than any fiction I could possibly come up with. I’m just not this creative. First off I would like to tell you about my room. About half the size of a dorm room: this I am okay with, in fact I expected something about this size. However, much to my shock and amazement I walk in to see that the bed has a pink Cinderella mattress cover (no sheets, but it does include a matching Disney Princess pillow. I shit you not, I will be sleeping on top of a beautiful 2-Dimensional Disney Princess for the next month, using my towel as a blanket. Hopefully the sheets dont already have crabs, cause I think getting an STD from a Disney Princess might ruin my childhood opinions about Mr Walt Disney and his now possibly slutty princesses. All of this is acceptable though. I know that I’m not staying in a 5 start resort or anything. That part of the room is fine with me. The bathroom however is a different story. Adryan, my “guide” from the school drops me off in my room and before I can get a look around to ask a few questions he is gone. So I turn from the bathroom, with more questions than a first grader attempting to learn calculus, to see that no one is there to answer them. What kind of questions, you may ask. Well, you really must see this toilet to grasp (and I will post pictures as soon as I get some and find an internet cafe). First off, there is no seat on the toilet; not just the top seat that covers the whole thing, but no seat to sit on, just the bowl. Second, there is no flushing mechanism anywhere to be seen. Third, there is a bucket right next to the toilet. A fucking bucket! Like a bed-pan type of bucket with a smaller bucket inside of it. So at this point my worries about wiping with my hand become miniscule to the fear that I’m gonna have to shit into a bucket and then do God knows what with it. I can only assume that the non flushing toilet is for number ones, and the bucket is for number twos. But I know to never assume because it can make an ass out of you and me, and this time I would have been an ass with a bucket full of his own shit in his room. I would have felt better knowing there was a designated area out back to dig a hole in and do my business there.
But anyway, feeling quite stressed I decide to walk across the street from my apartment to the mini mart that Adryan showed me for a much needed cigarette to calm myself (I’ll get to these cigarettes in a minute). Thank God Adryan is in there doing the same thing, so I throw all inhibitions to the wind and ask him in line at the mini mart if he can come back and explain my bathroom to me. Upon his arrival he informs me that I can, in fact, shit in the toilet, and the bucket is to fill with water and then pour on top of my feces. This water and any floaters/sinkers in it will be pulled down by wonderful Gravity!
You cannot imagine the amount of relief I felt upon finding this out. Certainly the biggest bathroom related weight to have ever been lifted off my shoulders.
So after Adryan left again, this time having answered my queries, I went outside to smoke the Marlboro Menthol Black cigarettes they gave me. Let me say two things about these cigarettes: first, they must be called Blacks because your lungs turn that color after one drag. Second, I think by menthol they meant anti-freeze or maybe even freon. It was like someone had placed an air conditioner in my throat. I like menthols when I decide to smoke, but these were something entirely different. Blowing Mr. Freeze from Batman would have less of a cooling effect.
Bathrom Humor is now done with, for those of you with weak stomachs, pick up reading here.
Wow, 2 days in Indonesia and I’ve already swung from any emotion available to its polar opposite with stops at all the emotions in between. I know that I came into this with an idealistic vision of the place and job, just as I do everything else. My greatest weakness is probably my idealism (but I hope that is a greater strength than weakness, but so far I haven’t found the drive/perseverance to make it so). Surabaya is a strange city. It is certainly a city in which Western consumerism has taken hold and attempts to flourish, but the socioeconomic means of its citizens hasn’t entirely allowed it to. The rich and poor dynamic is amazing. I drove past Mansions that out sized (and out classed) any hollywood star home. But 90% of this city seems incredibly poor. The kind of poor that is hidden in section 8 housing and tent cities back in the States. America does a wonderful job of hiding its poor. Here it is everywhere. I was informed today that 60% of the economy here is tobacco. I certainly believe it after seeing everyone and their mother smoking cigarettes. Also, the man who owns Djarum, makers of the wonderfully delicious clove cigarettes, is from Surabaya and owns what is probably the most beautiful home I have ever seen. The other 40% of the economy must be food. There are family owned food stands that are put up each morning and taken down each evening stretching the sides of every road in the city. I ate at one today and the food was wonderful, but these stalls are on the sides of the road next to ditches where the excess food and wash water is thrown (and I certainly hope the wash water is not the same as the ditch water). There is garbage everywhere, some of these piles being burnt this afternoon. The city doesn’t smell bad, it looks like it would smell bad, but it really does not. It looked like what I imagine most of India to look, and very much like what parts of Slum Dog Millionaire looked like (yes, I realize how American my views are of India to be by basing it on a movie, but thats all I have for perspective.)
In all honesty, I don’t particularly find this city appealing. There is no park. It is all garbage and construction and road side stands and ditches. Literally. Oh, and some malls that are pretty nice because that is weekend entertainment, going to the mall. I’m not 14; I’m over the mall. I understand that I am doing this to get a job and my weekend activities should not by my first priority, but I really don’t think I like this city. THEY DON’T HAVE A PARK! I’m not looking for night life. I’m over nightlife. But if I’m going to live on an island with perfect weather, I want to be able to enjoy the outdoors. Maybe go for a swim too on my saturdays. I want some natural beauty. I feel like the poverty of this city would slowly suffocate me. I know that sounds horribly elitist, but I don’t mean the poor people, but the dilapidation that is a result of this poverty. Also, there is no communication with the outside world for a city the size of Chicago population-wise. I have emailed my parents once and I hope they got it just to know I am alive.
I want to be in Bali is what I think I’m saying. It would certainly be easier. More English speakers, more connection to the outside world because it is a tourist destination, and natural beauty. Even if I were inland a bit and not in the touristy area, I would be a taxi ride away from a cold beer and a beach.
Things Are Looking Up.
I am recovering slowly but surely from yesterday and friday’s troubles. I am trying to talk to people more. It is helping. I am upset still about the lack of communication, my dad had to call the school to find out that I am alive. I guess that means all is well with them. I met “Dan” a 37 year old man who is from Jakarta and whose twins are 2 or 3 years old and wife are still there. He splits time working between Surabaya and Jakarta. I also met other women in my building, both of whom are very attractive. One is probably a little too old for me. Also, the woman who owns the building introduced me to her two daughters. I was invited to a trip to the mountains with them next week. Meeting cousins in Bali or day tripping with two beautiful girls? For some reason I feel the answer to that question may be pretty easy to figure out. It was actually a funny scene meeting these girls. Their mother and the two maids here (who may or may not be family) were standing behind the girls as they gave me a gift and chatted. It was like a first date, or first school dance, with anxious parents and some giggling between the two girls. I felt all giddy like a school girl as well. Its funny how the further away from “society” I get, the more similarities I see in everyone’s shared experience that is Life.
The more people I meet, the more welcome I feel and more comfortable. I will for sure finish the month long class and hope to find a job in Bali, but if not, I hope the one offered to me earlier is still available. I was just overwhelmed as I think anyone without ties to their comforts of home would be while some 10,000 miles away. I still really really need to find a consistent source of communication though. But I feel really really upbeat about this trip for the first time since landing. God is speaking to me I believe. Ask and you shall receive. Well, I have done nothing but ask of Him recently, in fact it has been quite incessant actually, but he has done nothing but respond. Little smiles, signs, and miracles. Including the miracle I saw today: my apartment’s name is Miracle Hotel. I know some people dismiss all things as coincidence, but I follow in Einstein’ sentiment that either everything is a miracle or nothing is. Life is better when it is full of miracles whether they come as “coincidence” or something larger. The breads here are awesome by the way. The Dutch really left some solid bakers here.
“We Want to be Whiter”
Some interesting notes. At lunch the other day Adryan asked why Americans want to get tan, because in Indonesia everyone tries to get whiter. I found this to be a funny little comment and thought no more of it than to tell him that tan is attractive in the states. Well, today while watching copious amounts of Indonesian T.V. (most of which was the Inbox Awards, something I can only describe as a more wholesome and simple MTV Awards) I noticed that there were tons of lotion commercials that advertised whitening skin. They were just like our self-tanner or any other lotion product commercials, but with the “whitening chart” used in toothpaste commercials applied to skin! These are not bleaches or anything, just lotions, but I found it funny that Adryan REALLY meant that they want to get whiter. Perhaps Michael Jackson is a status symbol here, who knows.
“Welcome To The Third World”
“Welcome to the Third World.” Those were the words Adryan said to me today after finally getting in touch with my family. My dad called the school multiple times today (and perhaps yesterday as well) trying to get in touch with me after my one email when I landed was clearly not sufficient. Which it most certainly was not. As I wrote earlier, I have had a lot of communication problems. “What we have here is a failure to communicate” could easily have been the theme of my first almost week here in Indonesia. Wifi (or internet at all) is hard to come by, and even harder is International phone service. Due to Adryan’s being out of town this weekend and my phone not working I was unable to communicate with ANYONE at all, Indonesian or American. This clearly caused some issues, especially back home. Finally getting in touch with Home was good though. I feel much better about the whole situation here. And for any of you readers that may have casually worried about me....Thank you, and yes I am safe.
I feel a lot more confident in my situation here. I still don’t really want to work in Surabaya, even my teacher for TEFL said that it is a boring city. It really does seem to be so. I hope I can get a job in Bali. For any readers out there, please pray for me to get a position in Bali. Man, just having communication with the outside world makes this whole experience that much easier. I cannot imagine the difficulties of someone like Rudyard Kipling being away from his family splitting time in India and England and having to write letters back in the days of yore. Even now the postal system here is supposed to be incredibly slow.
Class is really great. It is kind of nice being one of only two students because things are easier. Although, I wish I had some other classmates to befriend. Everyone I have met in my building is very nice though.
I feel like my Indonesian is coming along pretty well for only having been studying it for such a short time. Its really my only time consumer, so hopefully I’ll pick it up quite quickly. Adyran complemented me today on multiple occasions asking if this really was my first time in Indonesia. Also, fun little fact: this is gonna be hard to break this habit: looking into someone’s eyes while talking to them is very impolite here. Too bad “making eye contact” was so drilled into my head.
The other man in my class, an older guy from Bali, is an artist. he showed me some of his works on his phone today. Super cool stuff. Very traditional Balinese stuff. He is very funny. He talked about teaching in an all girls school where “the girls all sat like men.” He also talked about his drug and alcohol use, the first of either of these things I have heard in Surabaya, a majority Muslim city. Very funny man though. I guess that is all I really have for today.
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