Volcano

I got to see my first volcano on Sunday. Bromo Mountain, the second highest point in Java, is still considered active. But it is a popular destination for locals and the occasional tourist. When you stand at the top, toes inches away from the steep decline into a massive, rocky abyss, you can smell the volcanic fumes. Gases rise like clouds.

I left at 7am with some friends of Mr. Naim. Traveling by dirt bikes, we embarked on a long, rough journey that would end up lasting until 7pm that night. I was riding on the back of one of the bikes with three guys for about an hour, then we met up with about 15 others before starting on the rugged dirt trails leading up into the mountains. It was the most intense off-roading I have ever done. Deep ruts dug into the narrow trails, and branches slashed up against us with brutal force. It made sense to me now, why the guys were all dressed in a sort of armor that made them look like ninja turtles. I saw a couple people crash to the ground, but luckily my driver was very experienced, and we stayed upright the entire time. But it wasn't too long before the engine burned out for one of the guys in my group. We had to turn back. The bike would make it fine downhill, but every time we came to an incline, we had to push.

We waited a long time in the small town we had started in, and then we rode off to another town to exchange bikes. We were going back up the mountain.

This time, we took a different route, on pavement. But it is a stretch to call it pavement. I felt as though we were traveling on ancient roads, narrower than one lane on a narrow street. Constructed of cement blocks, or concrete that was crumbling away, it made for an incredibly bumpy ride. After 12 hours of on and off riding like this, I had such a headache from my head being shaken like the maracas for sale at Tempo Doeloe the night before. I couldn't sit the next day either, my rear end was in so much pain.

But the rugged journey was definitely worth it. Once we got on top of the mountains, it was like another world. The vast expanse of dirt and sand was like a large, flat, dried up river. It was eerie being on such flat, desert-like terrain while still being in the clouds. Green mountains extended even further into the clouds surrounding the "valley." I half expected a pterodactyl to come screeching from behind the mountains, or a massive pile of bones beyond the next turn.

Bromo itself is a rocky, lifeless cone. You have to climb a very steep set of crumbling stairs to reach the top. There is a dangerously narrow space to stand, before risking the chance of falling to certain death. The railing is little more than a flat pile of crumbled concrete.

 

On our way back, one of the gears clinked off our bike. The three guys and I had met up with the whole troop again at Bromo, but by this time it was just two guys and me. We switched bikes, so only one person would weigh down the broken bike, but even then, we could only go about 20 yards without the gear falling off again. And we had to go incredibly slow over the bumpy pavement. The sun was quickly slipping behind the surrounding mountains. On one side of the road was cut a vertical dirt wall. On the other- a few trees and then complete darkness. I kept thinking bats, bats, bats. There are a ton in Indonesia, and at Tempo Doeloe they had bats with 2-ft wingspans on display. Ahhh.

We eventually reached a small town that had a bike repair shop, and we made the remainder of the trek back without any more complications.

Tempo Doeloe

When I brushed my teeth last night there was a fish in the sink.

I have no idea where that fish came from, but Mr. Naim has two large Indonesian fish in large tanks. One is in the office, and one is in the living room in his home. The first time I saw them feed it, I was amazed. They dropped in a large, red, ugly centipede and in one strong fluid twist, the fish had swallowed it whole.

Much has happened in the past few days. Thursday night was the start of Tempo Doeloe, one of Indonesia's largest festivals, right in the heart of Malang. People from all over Indonesia visit Malang to attend the four-day cultural celebration. In an already crowded city, this means there are A TON of people. People flock in the streets leading up to the festival, because parking is scarce and you have to walk a long ways. I went with Ocha and Vidia Thursday night, then the teachers from the kindergarten Friday afternoon, then Mr. Naim's family on Friday night. Each time was a little different. On the first visit, Ocha, Vidia, and I dress in the traditional batik. One of the places we stopped at had snakes. I first held a small one...and then they brought me out the monster snake. I tried to get Ocha to ask what kind of snakes they were, but she responded with something like "yes we are going to eat." I get so confused sometimes. When I went with the teachers, we stopped at all the historical places, naturally. They like to put the old-fashioned things on display, from the time when the Dutch ruled over their Indonesia colony. When I went with Mr. Naim's family, we did a lot more walking around. I had again the traditional drink I had the first night. It is rice based, with soft chunks of another type of rice product and cassava root. It was pretty tasty!

Friday morning, the kindergarten had a field trip to a country club pool. It was very nice, and fun to be helping the kids swim. I got to swim a few laps in the bigger pool when everyone was showering and changing. With waterfalls at one end and tropical plants all around, it was a serene and beautiful place.

On Saturday, I made omelets for the family. It was much more of a success than the burritos.

Tornado

I finally saw a tornado.

Or...close enough to one. Mr. Naim's driver was taking me home from the office, and there between the buildings and tall trees, I caught a glimpse of the start of a tornado. It was long and slender, off in the distance, and not touching the ground yet. I calmly pointed, smiled at the driver, and said "tornado." Of course, the driver just laughed and smiled back. He had no idea what I had said. On the short drive home on the narrow, curvy roads surrounded by houses, I couldn't see any more of the open sky. So naturally, when I got home I put on my running shoes and went out for a jog. I wasn't going to miss this. After 18 years in Tornado Alley, I hadn't gotten to see one. And now, after two weeks in Indonesia, I was hoping this was my chance. All I got, however, were dark skies and a sweaty back.

When the rest of the family got home, Ais and Kiky wanted to swim. So we walked to the pool. I kept thinking about the tornado and how swimming in a storm is not a good idea. But I typed "Isn't it going to storm?" into my phone to show the Aunt the translation. She just smiled and shook her head no. Always smiles.

Just as we got to the pool, we heard the sound of a freight train. My stomach dropped and I was ready to sprint. They say that's what it sounds like before a tornado hits.

But then we saw the train.

So no tornado for me haha. Probably a good thing. The rest of the week has been pretty uneventful. I tried to cook some American food for the family on Sunday. Finding the same ingredients was an impossible challenge. I needed refried beans and tortilla shells for the burritos I was going to make. I ended up cooking both from scratch, which was not really successful I have to say. I also made some salsa, or what should have been salsa.

Basically the whole family has had head colds and fevers this week, me included. The seasons are changing, and the translation of these symptoms is flu. That's what everyone says, but I am sure it is not the flu, they probably don't understand our meaning of the word cold.

Something that has surprised me is what the Indonesians are afraid of. Cats for one. We think they are cute and may want to go pet the cats we see in the wild. They will run away from cats here. But as for critters, ants and spiders are no big deal. I was once sitting on my bed with Ocha, when I spotted a spider scurrying up the wall above her head. Spider! I shouted and pointed. She looked at me and just laughed, staying where she was, with the dumbfounded look on her face that said, "you are afraid of that little thing?" So I probably slept with that ugly spider we so easily could have annihilated.

Photos

A Wedding

Thursday and Friday we had a holiday at the school. On Thursday, the whole family went up to see a waterfall. It was a very touristy area, so there were tons of people. The waterfall was beautiful though. And the wind and spray rushing from it was strong—I was soaked after just posing for pictures! There were also a lot of monkeys here, and they liked to steal your food. Corn and peanuts were their choice foods. Who knew.

Friday I went shopping with Ocha and Vidia all day. I bought 13 American movies...for 80,000 Indonesian rupiahs. That converts to about $8.50. The pants I bought were about $6. Things are so cheap, I want to buy everything!!

Today, the family plus relatives loaded three SUVs and drove over three hours to attend another relative's wedding. It was sooo neat to see a traditional Indonesian wedding. Things were so different. We started off at the man's house, where family just met and talked. Then we all went to the woman's house, entering in a procession with tambourines and a decorative umbrella was held and spun over the man. Each person received a box and a glass cup as we went under the outdoor red, yellow, and white tent. Inside the box was an orange, a piece of green cake (a lot of breads and cakes are green here), peanuts, and three bird eggs. Everyone involved in the wedding wears elaborate clothing—bordered with gold and lace. The "bride" wears a lot of make-up...and the men do too. The bride and groom and both of their parents were up on a platform. No one said anything the entire time, nor did they smile. A man off to the side was reciting Javanese scripts for half an hour, and then the man and wife went inside to change the color of their clothes. A meal of rice and ice cream was served to all of the guests in their absence. They then returned to take pictures with various families. I got to join with my host family, and even got to stand next to the bride in her elaborate attire!



To continue our discussion of culture:

Indonesia has the highest population of Muslims in the world. And this has a profound effect on the cultural traditions. My host family is Muslim, so they pray five times each day. If we are driving and it is time to pray, we will stop at one of the many mosques. You can hear the call to prayer throughout the day, and at dusk it seems as if the city is moaning with the sounds from all of the various mosques. When I was wandering around the Jakarta airport, I sat down to rest. After a little while I noticed I was the only one wearing shoes, the only one not smoking, and the only woman. I promptly left. There were a couple different prayer rooms inside the airport...and I hope I hadn't just intruded on one!

With the Muslim culture comes a very high standard of modesty. I had tried to prepare myself for this, assuming (wrongly) that since I was not interning at a distinctly Muslim school, I would be okay with capris. Hey, it was better than the shorts I always wear. On the first day, however, the man in charge called me into his office and told me that I needed to dress more formally. My short-sleeve blouse was fine, but I had to wear long pants. I was ashamed that I had probably offended some people on my first day.

Toilets, choking, and a horse and buggy

It took me until now to figure out the bathrooms. They are always completely surfaced with tile, from floor to ceiling. Often, as in my host family's house, the toilet is right there with the shower. Or sometimes there is about a 3x3 foot water basin built into a corner. Sinks are always outside the door. A hose is attached to the toilet as well. I kept wondering why the entire room was always wet, and I thought the hose was in case the toilet plugged or something. Nope. The hose replaces the toilet paper (which I always had found lacking, and I had started carrying my own tissues with me). Once you're done with your business...you just hose yourself down. And hence the water everywhere. Oh, and you aren't allowed to wear shoes in the bathrooms, unless they are public. In the airport and in the housekeeper's area of the house, the bathrooms are a little different. There is no seat. You stand over a porcelain hole. This is really going to take some getting used to, and for now, I am still clinging to my tissues.

Another cultural point is the presence of a housekeeper and a driver in my host family. They are kept separate from everyone else—they eat last, or at a different table when we eat out. They are there to serve you, and you aren't expected to involve them in common conversation.

Before entering any house, or each room or bathroom in the school, you are expected to remove your shoes. Floors are always a smooth tile, and are usually kept very clean. Doors are kept open, and there is even a section of the ceiling that is open in my host family's house. Last night, a random cat was found meowing in the living room. It had just wandered in.

But, about today...

We took the students out for a walk around the block first thing in the morning. Once we got back inside, things were a little short of a nightmare. Five boys started to scream and cry and were trying to fight each other. Even the girls were running around like mad. At lunch, one boy started choking. I started shouting "He's choking! He's choking!" My rushed, panicked voice (and not the words hah) got the teacher's attention. But he ended up just reaching down his throat to pull out a sugary gummy ball. He was fine.

In the afternoon, Ocha, Ais, Akbar, Miss Indah, Vidia and I went to another Indonesian park. They are always characterized by statues of cartoons, fruits, or vegetables. The bathroom, for example, was inside a large apple. It was like this in the last amusement-type park we went to as well. Indonesian really like to take pictures with the tall, colorful objects. We took a ride in a traditional horse and buggy for a few blocks around the city. That was an interesting experience. We were riding among the cars, and with only two rickety wheels I kept thinking we were just going to break apart in the middle of the busy street.

People immediately recognize I'm not from Indonesia, and they always want to take pictures with me. Ocha was right about the celebrity thing. I'm wondering how many random pictures of me are floating around facebook...

I also got asked three more times today if I had a boyfriend. I was sitting in a cafe for lunch when a troop of police officers walked in for food. The first question they asked after they found out I was from America, was if I was still single! I guess this is another cultural difference that is hard to get used to.

The School

Today completes my second day as an intern at Global Ednovation. This is a school for preschool and kindergartners. We start at 7:30am and go until 10:30 Monday and Friday and 11:30 Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. There are about 50 kids, and it can get pretty hectic and incredibly loud. It is a very formal setting—I am called Ms. Alli and referred to as the "special friend." I am the only AIESEC intern working here, all the other teachers are older, but most only by a few years. All the kids have to shake my hand every day as they leave the school. But this hand shake is not what we think of as a handshake. The child will lightly grasp my hand and touch it to their cheek. Sometimes they give it a kiss.

I gave my host family a small book about Iowa when I got here. They liked it. But they think it is some kind of other country. They asked me if we still speak English, and the fact that we have a flag really throws them off too. There is a picture of a Native American that has given them all sorts of ideas that we are connected with our past culture and have songs and dances and food and feathers and special spirits. They don't understand that we really don't have traditional dances, songs, or food. We eat corn, yes. And burgers and pizza. So they want me to do a traditional dance or sing a customary song for graduation. Any suggestions are much appreciated!

The teachers are all very nice and enunciate each word. They laugh all the time at everything. 95% of the time I have no idea what is so funny. It is probably me and my confused expressions. But after a few pictures and the collective efforts of the group...we agreed to all go para-sailing after graduation! I am SOO excited for that!

Last night I went to an Indonesian carnival-amusement park sort of place with Ocha, Vidia, and some other friends. We rode go-karts, took a walk on the "love path," did a mirror maze, went on two spinning rides, and watched traditional dances as well as the "water dancing." Water shot up in pretty designs to lights and music.

This afternoon, I went with Ais, Faris, and Kiky to the pool in their neighborhood. It felt great to be able to get some exercise again, even though it was only a little. Most of the time I was trying to help the kids learn how to swim. And this was definitely more in my element than the earlier instruction! It was like lifeguarding all over again. I can't communicate with Mr. Naim's kids in their language...but I certainly made good use of nonverbal skills. Blow bubbles - get them to copy you. Happy faces - they did something right. Rapidly talk in high pitches - and they kick. Magic.