The Things I Forgot To Tell You

This will be the final blog. I hope you have enjoyed my stories from Indonesia for the past seven weeks and I thank you for following my adventures. Here are a few more stories: Ocha and I were driving down the road on the afternoon of a cloudless day, when I saw something you just don't, and shouldn't, see in the US. A stark naked man was walking parallel with the heavy traffic. I turned to Ocha and exclaimed, "Ocha, there is a naked man! Is that normal?!?" She looked at me and laughed, surprised that I was so surprised: "um, yeah." I would later see this again. Ocha was right, it was no big deal. I was sitting on the floor in one of the kindergarten classrooms, quietly eating my lunch. Suddenly, a mouse popped out of the wall next to me! He may have been a rat, because he was a lot bigger than the typical mouse, but it was hard to tell before he so quickly ran back into the wall. I think I scared him. The teachers went on mouse alert after that minor incident. If you ever find yourself in Indonesia, be mindful of how you eat your rice. The food is obviously very important to them. We ate rice with vegetables for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. The food was prepared no differently at breakfast than it was at dinner. I had my very first meal in Indonesia with a woman that works at Mr. Naim's office. After devouring my pile of fried rice with my fork, she said, "we eat our rice with a spoon." Oops. So, a lesson in rice-eating: hold the fork with your left hand, and the spoon in your right. If you need to cut something, use your spoon and hold the food with your fork. Push the food onto your spoon with the fork. When you are done eating, set the silverware on your plate in a cross-like formation. The spoon belongs over the fork. This symbolizes you will not eat any more. If you don't cross your fork and spoon, they will keep trying to get you to eat more and more. If, however, you do cross your fork and spoon, STOP eating. These things, my friends, were learned the hard way. Chili peppers are in almost everything you put with your rice. VERY spicy. In the beginning, I could hardly get through a meal without my nose running like mad and my eyes swelling with tears. To top it off, tissues are almost non-existent in Indonesia whenever you need them. This means no blowing your nose or wiping your eyes dry. Oh, and it also means no toilet paper. One day at school one of the teachers handed me a storybook to read to the kids. It was originally written in Indonesian and translated into English. Well as I was reading out loud about how a monkey was mad at a duck, the monkey started spewing out a whole bunch of swear words! I don't think the blanks I was leaving in the translation were even noticed. The woman who told me about eating rice with a spoon I saw again the week before I left. I said, "it seems like not that long ago when we first ate lunch together." Her reply took me a little off guard: "yeah, you look more fat now." I just stood there, wondering how in the world my diet of rice and vegetables for 7 weeks could have possibly made me fatter. As if to remedy the situation, she kindly says, "...but more cute." I half expected her to pinch my "chubby" cheeks. I passed my notebook around to get all of the teachers' names for Facebook. It came back with a bunch of email addresses. They all had Facebook. I had to decipher their names and search them out the hard way. Indonesians never have their real names for their facebook, which certainly makes things difficult. Once when I was eating Tempe (mashed and fried soybeans, eaten with every meal), I noticed dark splotches all over. Hmm, must have just gotten burnt, I mistakenly thought. The next day I helped prepare the meal, cutting up a huge block of Tempe. It was covered...in fuzzy black and white mold. We put the pieces in the fry pan. Not burnt, I realized: black mold. Yum yum. I didn't eat the Tempe again for awhile. This is the last of my travel stories. Sampai jumpa dan terima kasih - goodbye and thank you. It has been a great experience. :) :) :)

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.