The Travels Home

Home at last. On the last day with my Indonesian family, I had some photos printed and framed, and also wrapped Hershey's chocolates and fruit snacks I had brought with me to share. I think and hope that they liked the gifts. For all that they had done for me, it was not nearly enough. I will be forever grateful for their kindness. Thankfully getting home was not nearly the hassle like going to indonesia was. I actually made all my flights and got home in two days instead of four. It was interesting observing the changes in security from the primitive airport in Malang to the uptight US security. In Malang, I didn't have to take my shoes off, my liquids weren't in a bag, my iPad wasn't out, and I didn't have to dump my water out. In Tokyo it was a little tighter security, and in the US a lot more so. I forgot to dump my water out and I had this rock plaque from the school, so they made me dig it out and then go back out of security to empty the water. When I came back through again, I was randomly selected for the personal scan. It was definitely a new record for the longest time through. From Malang to Jakarta, the flight was about an hour and a half. From Jakarta to Tokyo, it was over 7 hours and from Tokyo to Chicago it was 15. Then I had just a short flight back to Cedar Rapids. I didn't have the pleasure of a business class seat over the pacific like I did before, but it was still manageable. I am pretty sure I suffered through my third case of food poisoning though. I had to flag a flight attendant down for a barf bag. Within a few seconds I had four flight attendants surrounding me, rubbing my back and giving me cool wash cloths. I just wanted to puke in peace, alone. Luckily, I never needed the bag, but I sure had the passengers around me a little nervous! I went through I think five cold rags, and even today I am not completely over it. When I arrived in Jakarta seven weeks ago, my suitcase was ripped along the side and in a plastic bag. I was forced to buy a new one in Malang. When I arrived in Cedar Rapids yesterday, my new one was already busted. A wheel was missing along with two little nobby things, so screws were sticking out. International travel is not very friendly to baggage, that is for sure. It is good to be home, and handling the jet lag from a 12 hour time difference has actually not been too bad so far. I have a few more stories I haven't shared yet...so one more blog yet to come!

The Last Days

Time for me here in Indonesia is drawing to a close. Yesterday, I went with Ocha, Vidia, and one of their guy friends to a fruit harvesting place in the mountains. They were growing all sorts of fruits there and we got to walk around and pick some of them. It was a really nice area, beautifully situated among the cloudy peaks with the city of Malang off in the distance. In addition to strawberries, there were guava, orange, apple, and dragon fruit trees. There were also caged animals along the path—rabbits, deer, different varieties of chickens, owls and eagles, monkeys, and sickening large bats. In the bat cage were little guinea pigs running around on the ground. They were so cute and fluffy...but I couldn't help wondering - bat food?

I got my hair cut. I was scared to do it, and I always put it off, but I needed one and Ocha made me. The hairdressers in the states have a hard enough time understanding what I envision with my hair. Try getting them to understand when you don't speak the same language! I had to rely on Ocha, and I often have a hard time getting my point across even with her. Yes, I was terrified I was going to leave that place with a bob haircut or something. I don't know why, but no matter how good the haircut is, or how many people tell me it looks good, I still always want to cry. Maybe it is because I have lost part of me, or maybe it is because I am putting all my trust in someone wielding a pair of scissors...

It of course did not turn out how I had wanted, but I managed to hold back the silly tears. In the end, it was a major improvement from before. It passed my ultimate test of approval by forming a nicely shaped ponytail. Ok, so I admit it, I'm happy with it.

I made rice crispie bars for my host family. Well, they weren't really rice crispie treats because there are no rice crispies here. Which really surprises me coming from a country based on rice. Anyway, I used cornflakes instead. They don't have normal marshmallows here either, so I had to settle with pink and yellow duck-shaped ones. They turned out nothing like usual, but they were really yummy! I might have to try the improvised version again back at home.

Taman Safari Indonesia Animal Park

"Welcome to Jurassic Park." Mr. Naim said as we went through the tooth-shaped gates. I couldn't help relating this experience to those movies—I had watched the whole series over the past few nights. The mountains surrounding us didn't lift the connection either, I wouldn't be surprised if the movies were filmed in Indonesia.

The first part of this animal park was like a safari. We drove around in our car and saw animals from all around the world. Lions and tigers were in the Americas section. I said to Mr. Naim, "We don't have tigers in America, or lions..." He was surprised, "Really?!?"

There were a bunch of different kinds of deer and antelope-like creatures that were roaming around the cars. They are used to being fed from the visitors, because most tried to stick their noses in our open windows. The kids would scream though, so we kept our windows up most of the time. Some animals even started licking the glass. Additionally, there were hippos, giraffes, bears, zebras, crocodiles, bison, wildebeest, orangutangs and other monkeys, ostrich, elephants, rhinos, and some others.


We had a picnic lunch on a blanket in the park, still rice as always. It is packed in a really handy series of stacking cylinders—a big one at the bottom with the rice, then one with chicken, then one with tempe and tofu, then one with the vegetables, then the top one has the chili sauce. It fit perfectly in a plastic bag. After lunch the kids' fun game of the day was to put this plastic bag over their heads. I watched with dread. For Faris, it fit over his entire body, a little tight, but it was the perfect size. Only his legs could move as he went running off into the street. Oh dear. We quickly put the game to an end.



For the rest of the enormous park you get out and walk around. There is an amusement park section, a waterpark area, and different animal shows scattered around. We saw dolphin, elephant, and tiger shows. We also went to the very popular Temple of Terror show, which was more like an animated Indiana Jones play involving a few animals. There were some explosions, one shooting up a fountain of water out of a well, and three others with fire spewing out of different parts of the temple. It was actually a really good performance, of much better quality than many Indonesian stunts. A tiger, crows, exotic birds, a lemur, a llama, geese, and mice were all brought in at different times to add to the reality of the temple.


Before the show had started we had to wait in a huge crowd of people outside the gates for over half an hour. It was hot and we were tired, and Ais quickly fell asleep. She had just woken up when we went in to sit down, and was still pretty dazed. She sat down in a random man's lap who was to my left. Mr. Naim was on my right, busy with the other kids. "Ais... Ais... AIS..." I was saying, as she was just staring off into space, cozying in with this random dad that was also trying to get her attention. We were all laughing. Her dazed expression never changed as she was pulled back to Mr. Naim.

My favorite animals are the big cats, especially the tiger. Well here I could pet them! It was definitely my favorite part of the day.

Hit-And-Run...or...Fight

We hit an oncoming car. And we just kept going. In the passenger seat, heart pounding in my chest, I turned to Ocha, "Aren't you going to stop?!?" Ocha - "No, I ever do this." Me - "How do you know the other car is ok?!" Ocha - "They are fine." I twisted and looked out the back window. There were white pieces of our car lying in the middle of the busy street. I couldn't believe we had just done a hit-and-run.

Granted, it was only the side mirrors that hit, but still. I was really struggling with the fact that we just drove off. I feel like we would have been arrested had we done that in the states.  Fortunately, most cars here are able to turn their side mirrors in close, or we would have knocked the whole thing off. The front was still gone though, and the little light was broken off the side. Cars drive so close together here, it is bound to happen sometimes. You never dare put your hand or arm out the window to feel the breeze.

I had seen one other accident during my time here. It was with a public transportation van and a moped. The van was pulling off the road to the right, not knowing that there was a moped in its path. The left handle broke off the moped as it frantically swerved to stay upright. The moped driver just held the handle up in frustration at the other driver, and then we had driven past and I don't know what happened after that.

Ocha and I were on our way to Jawatimur Park, a theme park about an hour away. I really don't like amusement parks; in the US I have only ever been once, and I was scared out of my mind. I had a sense of adventure today though, and this park was nothing like amusement parks in the states. The rides are not as big, tall, or intimidating. I was feeling adventurous. Ocha didn't want to go on any of the rides, but I was able to drag her onto one that spun you around over little hills forwards and then backwards. After we did bumper cars together, I had to do the rest of the rides by myself. One was a roller-coaster, not excessively high, so it was acceptable to my slight fear of heights. I sat in a four-person car. Two people face one way while the other two face the opposite direction. As we went around the numerous curves of the coaster, we were whipped around and spun out over open space. I was a little more than terrified. I'm telling you, theme parks are not my thing. The next ride was a small coaster, low to the ground, but extremely fast. We went around four times at breakneck speed. The final ride I did was the swings. I was in a two-seater by myself, and I had my eyes closed the whole time. Because the swings were raised high into the sky as you spun around the tower. My eyes had hardly separated - when I briefly saw ground so far below - before they were quickly squeezed shut again. It was one of my last days in Indonesia, so I needed to get the most out of my experience on those rides I never would have done otherwise. And in the morning I had had the impression we were going to a waterfall.... So far from it.




On the way home, we saw yet another accident. Two cars that were going the same way (opposite from Ocha and I) had collided. The driver of one jumped out of his car, ran to the other driver, and started beating him up. Other people joined in to hold the drivers back, and then we had driven past and I could see no more. Wow, what a day! And to think, I had started it out, driving through the neighborhood, practicing my driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road skills.

Sickness and Running Stories

The 15 hour ride back to Malang seemed so much longer than the first trip coming to Bali. I had caught a cold after diving and I seemed to be getting a fever. It wasn't the most pleasurable experience I have to say, being in the middle seat trying to sleep through the night while sick. I think my maximum time asleep only ever reached 45 minutes. The clock seemed to move incredibly slowly. At one point when I woke from my brief slumber the guy next to me had his head firmly planted on my left shoulder, and my hair was stuck behind Ocha's back to my right. I painfully tugged but it wouldn't come loose. I was frozen in position, splendid.

Eventually we arrived back home in Malang, and I probably should have slept. Instead I watched the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean. By this time I was thinking I had food poisoning, making excessive trips to the bathroom and taking my Cipro. I ate one piece of bread with peanut butter and nearly threw up. (On a side note: people hardly ever eat bread here, but when they do it is always either white and completely refined with no nutritional value, or it is green. Green because of the leaves they use to make the flour, not mold hah.)

I spent the next few days lounging around the house. Later in the week I went shopping with Ocha a few times. By Thursday I was feeling completely better, so I went for a run around the neighborhood. Indonesians do not consider exercise important, and the lack of physical exercise has been making me go crazy. Running is not as enjoyable here as it is in the states, I have to admit. Everyone stares at me, stopping their work to look as I go by. Three reasons: 1) I am running, and people just don't run 2) I am a female running, and females are never athletic, and 3) I am a buleh female running. Buleh is what they call westerners.


Construction sites are the worst. There are SIX in my small neighborhood. They always call out to me. There are two gigantic projects going on - two hotels I think - and even here I will hear whistles coming from the top. At the smaller construction projects, the houses, the men like to practice their English. I ran by two guys sitting on the curb that just said, "Miss, you are beautiful."

One good experience was meeting some girls on bikes. I don't remember their names, but they followed me for the last sections of my run, and then I got one of Mr. Naim's bikes and joined them. It was really fun, and I was able to try out my growing Indonesia skills. They didn't speak any English. The following day I rode bikes with them again. One of the girls fell going up a hill and bloodied her knee. We were close to Mr. Naim's house so I ran in to get my first aid kit. I felt so grown-up and was reminded of my lifeguarding days, tending to the little girl. I also brought some fruit snacks from America out for them, which I think they enjoyed.

The Dangers of the Deep

On the second day of diving, I got to dive two more times. We went to the shipwreck first, and the visibility was even better than the day before. I performed a few more of the necessary skills with my instructor—taking off my mask, making an emergency assent, exchanging regulators. When we were sitting on the sandy bottom I was drifting backwards...and then ouch! My knee touched one of the stinging underwater plants. They looked innocent enough- like small, colorful bushes gently swaying in the current. But they were everywhere and I ended up getting stung three times over the course of my four dives.

Swimming around the structures of the wreck is breathtaking. I would look up and see the lighter blue framed by now hidden metal sheets. Coral had completely taken over—the vicious plants, bulges of swirling rock, massive tube drums, anemones, urchins. Once, Christoph tapped a huge clam, which quickly closed shut with a spray of sand. I saw another one of these gigantic clams later on the sandy bottom. There were some fairly large fish swimming around the maze of the wreck, I would guess to say, about five feet long. They weren't the most colorful, mostly a grayish brown color, but they had such puffy lips it looked like they had had a few rounds of botox. Another smaller, but still large, fish was covered in vertical black and yellow stripes. These were really neat but Christoph said later you don't want to get too close. Christoph had a pointer with him that he used to draw my attention to some of the smaller creatures. We lifted up anemones to see cute little white crabs, or centimeter-long black and white clown fish. The clown fish, along with the large yellow angelfish, were my favorites. I also looked down to see Rainbow Fish. I don't know if that is what you call it, but I remembered it from the Rainbow Fish books I read as a kid. It was large, and yes, like a beautiful rainbow.

The final dive was back at the coral garden. We did our deepest dive here, but there was a steep slope that we soon went back up to see more of the colors. I was quietly swimming along when I looked up to see Christoph rapidly motioning to me. Hand on top of his head in the universal shark symbol. He pointed up the slope and we quickly swam. I wanted to see one! Christoph said they were black-finned sharks, not too big and not aggressive, but they swam away to fast for me to see. I was a bit disappointed.

When we were closer to the surface, being swayed by the motion of the waves, I spotted our second moray eel. The first had been plain brown, but this one was like a leopard. I knew they were dangerous, so I was scared to get too close. And then we heard the sound of a motor. A catamaran was just about to go right over us! Christoph held me down, as close to the coral as we could get...and of course it had to be right next to the dreaded eel. My eyes were on him, and he opened his mouth and returned the stare. This was also one of those times I got stung by the plants.

We also got to see a barracuda and another stingray. The stingray was hiding in the sand, and you have to be careful that you don't upset them. "Always check the sand before you get too close," Christoph would tell me later in his strong French accent, "you don't want one of their barbs flicked against your skin. It can kill you." A nice point to know... especially when you are finished with your dives haha.

After this last dive, we regretfully had to leave. It seemed like a much longer ride home, now that my adventures we over. What a wonderful underwater world Bali has to offer! With my certification now complete, I can't wait until I can dive again.

Tanah Lot

I like to tan a lot.

Haha ok, this is true, but it's almost my attempt at a silly pun. Tanah Lot, two hours by moped to the northwest of where we were staying in Nusa Dua, was in my opinion the most beautiful site in Bali. It is a holy rock island temple, built ages ago and still sacred to the local priests who worship at the island today.

Ocha and I only stayed by the shore. You could cross over, it was low tide, but I don't know that we would have been allowed inside and around the small but cliff-faced island. We took a lot of pictures, the scenery was absolutely stunning. The water was so clear, and it glided up into the flat, intertidal areas with each incoming wave. There were shallow crevasses all over, as well as perfectly circular isolated pools. These pools were not yet subjected to the coming tides, so their clear waters were perfectly still, the sand nicely settled at the bottom. It was fun to just hop in these pools, or walk along inside the crevasses. You had to be wary of crabs though! They were everywhere. Luckily, the water was so clear I could always see them before coming too close.

We walked along the coast awhile. There was a steep cliff separating us from higher ground, and for some reason we were some of the only tourists who wandered from nearby the temple. There was a nice cushion of sand close to the cliff, and a ledge just at my fingertips if I also stood on a separate boulder. I wanted so bad to climb it! The problem- beneath the ledge the rock quickly curved back. I first tried climbing from upside down. Nope. I tried pull ups. Nope, that didn't work either. I tried jumping. Definitely a nope. Haha anyone who knows me, knows that jumping was surely a fail. I eventually walked way down the beach to climb up on a not so challenging part, and sat on a ledge that didn't protrude out so far. I later took back my camera from Ocha to find a long series of photos outlining my humorous struggles.

We walked further to some higher cliffs that we could walk out on and over the ocean. The strong waves burst upon the rocks, sending up a thrilling spray of salty sea water. It is a powerful, inspirational lookout point. I would have liked to just sit there until the sun set.

We instead walked back and to the opposite side of the temple. There was another cove area, where the rock cliff made a natural bride to another, smaller temple sitting high atop the stone. It was a beautiful sight, one that belongs on a post card. Funny thing is, that is actually how I found out about this place. I first bought its postcard. Far away in Kuta beach, I held up the card, saying to Ocha excitedly, "wow, can we go there?"

I could have spent all day at Tanah Lot.

Bali Under the Waves

Down Where It's wetter...

The last activity on my schedule in Bali: SCUBA diving! You can't go to Bali without experiencing the underwater world. I had heard Indonesia is one of the best places to dive, and I had been looking forward to this since my arrival here.

Back at the University of Georgia, I had completed the first part of my SCUBA certification - the part that has to be done in the pool. I then needed my open water certification, which I was able to schedule to finish in Tulamben, Bali.

I needed to be at the dive center at 7:30am. We had ridden by it the day before on accident when we were lost, when I pointed it out to Ocha. She would drive me there, but she didn't have part of her certification done and couldn't come with. I set my alarm for 5:30, plenty of time to be ready to leave at 6:30. I was going to give us plenty of time to ride there too, in the likely event that we would get lost again. Ocha woke up a little after I did, and her arm was in a lot of pain, so she said she couldn't drive me. I was packing my stuff up for the two-day trip, when she rolled over and mumbled, "what time do you have to be there, 9?" I said no... 7:30, leave at 6:30. She indifferently said, "It is 7 now," and rolled back over. And then I kinda panicked. I had waited months for this day. I didn't have a ride. I was already going to be late. And it had to take me until the fourth day in Bali to find out the time changed!?! (It was actually 6:40, she rounds up). She said I could call a taxi. That would take too long, I tried to explain to her. And for them to find her uncle's house would have been chaos. So then she said I could ride with her uncle. "By motor?" (meaning moped) I asked. She said no. So I went downstairs to see a bunch of school boys standing around a car with it's hood up. Uh oh. I yelled up at Ocha trying to clarify who and what I was riding, because her uncle was no where around. And she replied something inaudible, so I ran back upstairs. Ah, I was supposed to ride with her uncle's son (not cousin? I was confused) by moped. So I went back down, and he was one of the school boys I eventually figured out. No one knew where the place was, after I showed them them the address. I explained to them that it was on a main road going to Sanur, but no one would leave not knowing exactly where. I kept calling the dive center, but with no answer. We went back upstairs to Ocha laying in her bed and they kept talking about how we didn't know where it was. I finally used Ocha's computer to show them google maps. But they just ignored it, apparently no one uses maps. In the end, I went by motorcycle with one of the construction guys that is working on the uncle's guest house. We stopped along the road a couple of times to ask for directions. A little after 8am, I happily arrived at Atlantis Dive Center.

I was so happy that they had waited for me, and so excited for the adventures to come! We had a 2.5 hour drive ahead of us, so I quickly paid and loaded up my SCUBA gear. Surprise to me: Atlantis, the PADI-certified dive company I chose, is French. All of the instructors, and most of their customers, are French speakers. I immediately thought of the famous Jacques Cousteau. They could speak English, and with such suave accents. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. The diving community always seems to be such a friendly, great group of people.

The other tourists in the van were two guys from Iran and an American woman from Atlanta. I got my own, personal instructor named Christoph. We were dropped off at a dive resort in Tulamben while the others kept going. I checked into my single bungalow room and went to meet Christoph by the water. What a beautiful place! The resort was right at the water's edge, a straight rock wall going up to where you could dine or lounge. This part of the island is not a place for tourists, only divers come here, a fact I thoroughly preferred and found quite relaxing. I was the only American at the place, but the French people and one German lady working on her Master Diver certification were really fun to be around.

I got to do two dives that first day. Each time we reviewed some skills... and then we got to explore. Oh was it beautiful! Such clear water and so many colors! The first dive was in the coral garden, and the second was on a shipwreck. I felt so fortunate to just be in Bali SCUBA diving, and then to be able to see a wreck! I don't think I ever stopped smiling, even with that clunky regulator shoved in my mouth. It was a beautiful, enchanting world. Among the many beautiful and unique fish I don't know the names of, I got to see a moray eel, a stingray, a barracuda, and a field of meter-long eels that looked like skinny brown plants flowing in the current.

...You know its better, Under the Sea...

Am I Russian, Maybe French?

There are a ton of tourists in Bali. And after not seeing any white people for six weeks, they seemed so out of place. I was a tourist too, I suppose, but I kept thinking to myself that I somehow had more "rights" to be there. I felt more connected to the Indonesians than these Westerners, or at least I didn't want to be associated with the tourists. A vast majority of them were overweight, especially compared to the Indonesians I have been surrounded by the last month and a half. They appeared arrogant, strutting about in their expensive clothing and sunglasses. I was reminded though, that like it or not, I am also a foreigner. People would stare at me whenever we stopped at a red light, walking down the street, or laying on the beach. They always want to take pictures with me too. When I was laying out on the beach, I would notice people pointing cameras in my direction. Or do they think I don't notice when someone is posing for a picture a few meters from me, the opposite direction from the ocean? It gets annoying, I have to say.

Actually, people never thought I was American, which I found surprising. Mars, the surfer dude, when he first came up to me:

—You are Russian?
—Me? No.
—Yes, I think you are Russian. You speak Russian?
—Nyet.
—You speak Russian!
—Nyet. I am from the USA.

Haha I think I confused him, but it was rather funny.

Another time, a native thought I was French. He asked me if I was from France, and said that I looked French.

One afternoon in Bali was spent at Benoa beach, the prime location for all sorts of water sports. Ocha and I did the flying fish and banana boat. Both are inflatables pulled by a speedboat. Launching off a wave on the flying fish, we were sent high into the sky and glided for a time. It was thrilling and very fun. The banana boat was a tube that Ocha and I and 2 natives sat on. We purposefully fell off twice, which was also a lot of fun.

Temples and Too Many Ants

Unlike Java Island, Bali is not primarily Muslim. It is more a mix of Hinduism and traditional religion. There are temples absolutely everywhere, nestled within the houses, along the streets, or out in the open depending on size. Little banana leaf baskets filled with flowers are brought to the many shrines, daily it seems, and prayers / recitations are offered. The people are also very superstitious. On the way over in the travel car there was a man, his wife, and their toddler daughter. The driver said these innocent people were using magic. The car apparently couldn't go fast enough while they were inside, but once we dropped them off we were able to zip around. Hmm, I have a hard time believing that. Maybe the driver just wanted an excuse for dropping us off late.

Tuesday afternoon we visited one of the largest temples. Massive stone rectangles rose into the sky around a central courtyard, mysteriously and impressively cut into the earth. At the head of the courtyard was a massive stone sculpture of a bird-like god, and even father up was the stone recreation of one of the Balinese princes. It was a beautiful view of the island from the heights of the temple.

There are also statues everywhere of warriors, uniformed soldiers, or sea-oriented gods, like the one driving the chariot shown here. We got lost so much, so I saw this particular statue much more than what would have been necessary. Traffic in Bali is also absolutely terrible, so we often went by moped. Weaving in and out of the cars, you can get around a lot faster. Since we were staying at Ocha's uncle's house, he was kind enough to lend us one for the week.

The showers this week: barrel and scoop. And by no means was the water warm.

I don't think I have talked about the ants yet. In Malang, they are everywhere. In Bali, they are everywhere. They are in the bed, on the toilet seat, and around my stuff that sits out on the counter. I don't eat food in the room for that reason, but I am sure I have swallowed or eaten my fair share of the little critters. In Bali, all the ants were tiny, and there were swarms of them. In the bathroom, there were two solid lines of ants crawling from floor to ceiling. On Tuesday I took a swig from my water bottle. And then there was a sharp prick and burning sensation on my tongue. Ant. Ew. The little sucker was soon crushed and promptly rolled out of my desecrated mouth.

Bali

After graduation on Sunday, I went to the AIESEC closing ceremony. They had some traditional songs and dances in a really neat, historic restaurant. After this, Ocha and I headed out for the beautiful tropical island of BALI.

14 hours by travel car--what we would consider a large van, with six other people--was not so bad. We drove through the night, from 7pm until 9am, and I tried to sleep most of the way. At one point I opened my eyes just briefly to see the silhouettes of palm trees and the rolling waves behind. I drifted back off to sleep in pure happiness.

The first day in Bali, on Monday, we went to Kuta beach. Many local and foreign tourists crowd this popular beach, ideal for beginning surfers, sunbathers, or wading into the forceful waves. The locals are constantly trying to sell you things. Mats, hats, bracelets, hair braiding, henna tattoos, etc. Some walk back and forth down the beach, but most hang out in the shade to catch the foreigners just as they are entering the beach. It is rather funny actually--westerners want to be in the sun as much as possible, to get that coveted golden brown tan. But the Indonesians...they stay under the trees, to be as white as possible. It makes you think; why are we always trying to change our skin color? Is it really that important? Anyway... I was sprawled out on my towel, peacefully reading a book (Ocha was, naturally, back in the shade), when this surfer dude comes and just plops himself down next to me. His name was Mars, and he stayed right where he was until Ocha and I left the beach. He spoke English pretty well, after only living in Bali for two years and learning English on his own. He wasn't super pushy either like most of the locals, but he was trying to get me to rent a surfboard and take a lesson from him.

On Tuesday, we went to Sanur beach. In my opinion, this beach was wayyy better than Kuta. There were not as many people because huge resorts lined this part of the coast. (And one great thing about being an American tourist here...they think you belong on private beaches! Hehe). The water here was crystal clear. I could see my toes and the white sand in water up to my neck. This is what I had been waiting for, what I had dreamed of Bali being like.

We walked along the beach for awhile. It was beautifully lined by the fancy resorts and cobblestone pathways. Palm trees and other tropical plants were cleanly arranged around the restaurants and lawn chairs. We stopped at one place to eat a much needed lunch. I only ordered a smoothie though- I hadn't seen prices so high since the states! I have had the pleasure of cheap Indonesian food for the past six weeks: With Ocha, two full meals and two drinks is only about $2.50. After this, we didn't eat at any more fancy looking places. Roadside warungs for us.

Graduation

They had told me I had to do an American song or dance for graduation. But this all changed a few days before...when they told me I would need to give a speech instead. And this speech would be in Indonesian! I had Ocha help me out with the translation, so three days before appearing before the families of 85 children, I started memorizing. Memorizing a speech in your own language can be hard, but it is even more so when you don't know what any of the words mean! And to pronounce them! I practiced all the time, and I had all the words down. Of course my accent was terrible, and there was one word in particular- mengajar. Mba Ikha, one of the sisters, was trying to help me with the pronunciation. She was apparently saying two words, but I couldn't tell the difference. If I said mengajar one way, I was saying "to teach." But most of the time I ended up saying the other, which meant "to chase after someone." So yes, I messed it up in the speech. I said I was glad to be chasing after the kids. I also completely forgot part of the speech once I got up on stage, had to take out my scribbled notes. I hope I at least brought some smiles to their faces. I am sure I sounded pretty bad. The rest of the ceremony went well. All the kids came in their cute Indonesian attire- elaborate costumes with gold and shiny fabric, a ton of make up, fancy headdresses, and decorated hair. Everyone was served the white box with cakes like all other formal occasions. Afterwards, the teachers all had lunch together. They are a great group and I will miss working with them.

End of the School Year

We are winding down the last week of school here at the Global Ednovation kindergarten. Graduation will be this Sunday morning, and we have been practicing for it for the last week and a half. Different classes and groups of kids sing and dance. I just sit on the floor and try to keep the kids who aren't on stage from running around and completely tackling each other. Some of the girls really enjoy climbing over me or sitting in my lap. One girl, Calista, gets especially excited about me. She says I look like Barbie. Ive learned to brush my hair well before going to school, she likes to twirl it around, pet it, or tie it into a nest of knots. If I sit with my knees up, she will crawl under them like a tunnel, or climb on top and slide down my shins. It doesn't really matter, though, how I am sitting. She will push and pull on my legs to position them how she wants- to sit in my lap or crawl under my knees. Apparently my arm hairs are also incredibly fascinating. She likes to pet my arms and pull on the hairs. Oww. Last week I also went through English testing with the kids. Each student took between 10 and 40 minutes to complete the whole thing. I would first ask them simple questions: what is your name, where do you live, what is your favorite color. They then had to identify which word on a list said mother, and which said father. I went through about 30 flashcards with them. Knife proved to be the challenger, very few kids knew it. They then had to read a list of days, shapes, and nature. The final, and most challenging task, was to write down the letters and numbers I said. We often ended up with Indonesian letters, backwards letters and numbers, or completely random numbers. Oh, and remember how I found a fish in the sink while brushing my teeth one night? Well a few days ago, there were about 25 in the tank with the big fish. This morning...there were three. So yes, these 3 inch long fish are mere appetizers. Yesterday afternoon, Ocha and I went to a hair salon for a hair spa. I've never even done this in the states, but they put a bunch of cream on my hair and then gave a wonderful head and shoulder massage. After the steamer, they dried my hair and straightened it. It felt great. We went to the mall to buy something for Ocha's friend's birthday. We stopped at a photography place and took some pictures too. I never really know what we are doing until it actually happens. I either don't understand Ocha's translation, or I can't decipher the accent. Keeps things surprising though!

On the River

We went rafting this Sunday. It was amazing, and by far the best rafting I have ever gotten to experience! Mr. Naim, Kiky, a bunch of Mr. Naim's friends, and I drove up into the mountains and loaded into the back of a pickup truck around 10 in the morning. 14 of us in the small bed made for quite a squeeze! We rode a short distance, and then the truck started backing up to a complete drop off. And then he stopped. I thought, okayyyy, what now? We piled out, and started to hike down the mountain. Far below, the river was rushing along the curves of the mountains. Large, black, volcanic rocks lined the riverbed. Banana trees and bamboo stretched high into the sky. It was such a beautiful setting, photographs cannot capture it's majestic grandeur. We hiked for quite awhile, occasionally slipping on the loose dirt and clutching at the plants creeping up the slopes. Eventually we reached the river and loaded the rafts. Joining me was Mr. Naim, Kiky, one of Mr. Naim's friends, and the guide. There were so many rocks, we never got too far without getting stuck. Every once in awhile, we would hit a rocky bank overgrown with branches and ferns. You had to make sure you ducked, but even then we all got covered with leaves and bugs that had fallen from the plants. And spiders liked to hang out in the plants leaning out over the river. I tried to avoid the webs best I could. Still, I ended up with three sizable spiders crawling on me throughout the course of our trip. And of course they laughed at me for being scared of the ponytail holder-sized spider that was in ninja position on my thigh. (sorry for that weird size comparison). Most areas we passed through there was little sign of human occupation, but every so often there was a small bamboo bridge stretching low across the river. Local farmers may be passing overhead, carrying their loads of harvested sugarcane or various other crops. We stopped for a rest near one such bridge. We were served apples, bananas, and tea. When we got back in our rafts, the guide motioned for me to sit a certain way. I heard something about a "photo." So I obeyed and just sat down in the bottom of the raft, holding my paddle firmly on the side. We went through some rapids, around some rocks, got stuck on a few rocks, and then we were going backwards. I was sitting in the front. So I went over first. It was a four foot drop that I didn't see coming. No big deal, I guess that was why they had me sit in the bottom. But then we quickly spun around. And then we dropped again. 10 feet. I hardly had time to know what was happening. I submerged up to my chest. What a blast! In total, we were on the river for at least four hours. When we returned, a full meal was provided. We ate the delicious rice and vegetables while sitting on the mountaintop, enjoying the amazing view in the clouds. A fine end to a fun-filled day.

Birthdays and McDonalds

"Happy Birthday to you..."

Seems I have heard this phrase 100 times this week. We had three birthdays in the Kindergarten in the past five days, and every time we sing the song over and over again. It was fun to watch how a another culture celebrates birthdays differently.

The parents and extended family came to the school with the cake and presents for everyone. A large birthday backdrop is hung on the wall, and the birthday boy or girl sits in a chair next to a small table with the cake. And it is no ordinary cake! The first one, for example, was an elaborately decorated Lightning McQueen from Cars. Some of the kids would sneak up to swipe their finger at the frosting.

Sooo many pictures were taken. Put your hand here, sit up straighter, let's try from this angle, and this angle, and with this person. The candle was lit and re-lit at least five times, sometimes with the dad blowing it out. When we would sing the Happy Birthday song, the kid wouldn't even wait until the end of the song to blow out the candle. Obviously, it isn't really too important.

The elaborate cakes were never eaten, at least with the guests present. Guests are given small cakes separately, wrapped kind of like our cupcakes are (but they aren't round, individually baked like cupcakes). Guests are also given a full meal. The Lightning McQueen birthday, for instance, gave each kid a new backpack with a nice new Tupperware container inside. The meal was some mixture of rice and meat. For the second birthday, we got two boxes—one full of cakes, and the other another rice meal. I ended up having five pieces of cake in one day! They aren't so sweet though, so I didn't feel too guilty. Everyone always gets a hat and a balloon.

We may think of birthday parties as fun, running around, playtime for the kids. Not so with birthdays here, however. After songs, pictures, and handing out the cakes, some adults read / recite a bunch of words that I don't understand. I think part of it is Muslim recitations, or a prayer maybe. 

The last birthday this week was on Saturday at McDonald's. I have only ever entered McDonald's to use their WiFi, believe it or not! And this was certainly the first time I have heard of a birthday party there. All of the girls were dressed in the five year-old version of prom dresses. Many had bright makeup all over their faces. They were cute. The same birthday routine was followed, except this time a few games were played. Again, the beautiful cake was only for display to the guests. The presents were balloons, hats, and a bag with a McDonald's cup, McDonald's meal of chicken and rice, and a milkshake. So I still didn't eat or drink any McDonald's haha.

The Knife-Wielding 2 yr-old

Faris, Mr. Naim's two year-old son, is quite a handful.

Sitting on the tile floor in the living room, I was trying to figure out how to work the DVD player. Faris came running out of the bedroom completely naked. (Faris and Ais usually run around naked in the mornings, trying to escape their bath times.) And then I felt splashes against my leg. I turned quickly and jumped up. Faris was peeing... All over the floor.

He really likes hair. He and Ais fight a lot. His defense as the younger, smaller warrior, is to grab a handful of hair and run. Any girl knows from experience how much this hurts. It makes Ais scream so the whole neighborhood can hear. Once when we were all sitting on the couches in the living room, he tried to get to Ais's hair, but the aunts quickly took her under their guard. So then Faris started wandering around... I pulled my hair into a bun on the top of my head. Faris was on the back side of the couch, jumping. He was trying so hard to grasp some strands of my hair.

There is space behind all of the couches to run around. The kids enjoy riding their bikes and scooters in endless circles in the living room. They occasionally crash, or run into each other, and this always brings screams or punches. I was once reading in my room with the door open. Ais started screaming like mad, so I glanced out into the living room. Faris was running after her with a five inch long kitchen knife.

He will open the cap on any drink that you give him and just turn it upside down. All over the floor, the table, and beware if he is near your bed! If he has a juice box with a straw, he may take a few sips and then squeeeeze.

He likes to chuck things too. They have a bunch of marbles in a bowl. Well, they should theoretically be in a bowl. They almost never are. Faris will turn the bowl upside down and watch all the marbles bounce across the entire house. Pencils, phone chargers, food—whatever is lying around—is likely to be picked up by Faris and thrown at someone. And if you try to keep him from doing something he will probably hit you and cry.

Is this how most 2 year olds are? I really didn't know what to expect.