700 handshakes and casava bbq

I now truly understand what it is like to be "in a fishbowl". I don't think I have ever been watched by so many eyes at once. All 700 students lined up around the school courtyard, in and outside nearby classrooms and on the balcony, pointing at me and looking very surprised and amused to see that their English teacher from America, dressed in slacks, a long button down shirt, and a blue headscarf (jilbob), did not look like a bouleh (white person) at all.

Today instead of classes, we had an outdoor orientation ceremony (Halal bihalal) to welcome all 700+ high school students back to school after the Ramadan/Idul Fitri holiday. The ceremony, which took place in the school courtyard, consisted of every single student lining up to shake every teachers' hand- including mine- as dramatic music played in the background. I say shaking hands, but it is more accurate to say that some students lightly held my fingertips, while others kissed it, and still others pressed my hand to their cheek.

The generosity of Indonesians never ceases to amaze me. I was exhausted when school ended and my cheeks were sore from smiling but I happily joined the teachers to visit Mr. Mu'at (who works at the school) because his wife wife had a tiny, tiny baby just yesterday. After a visit to another teachers' home and a trip to the market, Shienda and I finally returned to my yellow house and I knocked out for a two hour nap. I woke up to the sound of talking from my kitchen and after finally getting up, discovered a small army of chefs at work. Shienda's mother and sister had arrived to help my cook dinner and when I opened the door to my backyard, I was surprised to see Mr. Mu'at (whose wife just had the baby) himself sitting outside fanning a small fire (made from woodchips, a cigarette box, and a flip-flop- yes a shoe) where he was grilling a casava for me. He also grilled a corn on the same fire and carved a young coconut for me.

This is just one of many examples of abundant kindness that I have been flooded with. When I first moved into my dark and empty house I wasn't worried, but I questioned whether I could ever feel at home in such a foreign place. My power and water occasionally turns off, my kitchen ceiling leaks and my house seems to to be the favorite hangout for ants and fruit flies; yet surrounded by all these wonderful people I think someday soon, I will be able to call this house my home.

New home and new friends

Finally got internet up and running in my new home! On Sunday morning at 2 a.m. I arrived in Genteng, a small city in East Java, where I will spend the next 9 months. My house is bright yellow (both inside and outside) and I think the color attracts butterflies because every day I find at least three of my flying friends perched on my walls. There is a living room, three rooms and a spacious kitchen that leads out to a backyard where soon, I will begin planting my own vegetables. Around my backyard (I just noticed this today) is a tall fence crowned with sharp pieces of glass, which I think are intended to keep intruders out. My kitchen is loaded with casava, coconuts, fruits, and cookies that people have brought over for me. There are always people at my house checking in on me and giving me food and whenever I walk around the neighborhood, people invite me into their homes. It is like being a part of one massive family.

For now, Shienda (my co-teacher/counterpart) at my school is living with me. I am very thankful for this because there are so many things that I didn't know how to do- like wearing a jilbob (Muslim headscarf that I wear to school) and taking showers. In my bathroom there is an elevated upright rectangular cube in the corner which can be filled with water. Naturally, I assumed this was a bath-tub. On my first night, I climbed inside to take an uncomfortable, cold bath, all the while wondering how I would tolerate this for one year. Later I learned from Sheinda that I'm not supposed to climb into the tub but in fact the entire bathroom is the shower floor. Thus, to wash yourself, you just stand in the middle of the floor and use the showerhead or dump water on yourself from the tub using scoopers. This was strange to me at first but now I am used to it.

A little about Shienda. She is 24, has a radiant smile, "single and very happy", and probably the most vivacious person I have ever met. She's been teaching English for only 8 months at our school but speaks wonderful English. She learned most of her English from watching American movies and listening to music- everything from Jason Mraz to heavy metal. When she was in college, she was in three different heavy metal bands (much to the demise of her more conservative parents).

In addition to Shienda, I have a friend named Mohammad Syaefulloh that everyone calls "Syaefull" (pronounced Si-full). But I call him Superman because he helps with everything- driving, shopping, and fixing things in the house as they break down. He does all this in addition to starting college (which he just began today) yet he never looks tired. With Shienda and Syaefull I have no worries except that I might burden them too much. Right now my two buddies are lounging in the living room munching on mango dipped in rujak (spicy peanut sauce) and chatting in Javanese and occasionally asking me questions. It is raining heavily and I will probably find lots of puddles in my kitchen tomorrow morning.

Celebrating Idul Fitri in Indonesia!

After a month of abstention from food, water, and sexy time between sunrise and sunset, followers of Islam gathered to celebrate one of their most important holidays, Idul Fitri. This year, our Indonesian teachers, invited all the English teaching assistants (yep all 44 of us) to their home to celebrate the holiday with them in Indonesian-fashion.

During Ramadan (the fasting month), most Indonesian Muslims wake up around 3 or 4 am to eat sahur (the pre-fasting meal)- the only meal and drink until sunset which occurs around 6 p.m. here. My Indonesian friend Elly explained that fasting is a part of her jihad or "struggle" to gain control over her emotions and draw closer to God. To get a better understanding of what she meant, I fasted on Thursday.

At 3:40 a.m.- before a ray of sunlight had touched the sky- I woke up to eat a large breakfast at the hotel buffet and drink water- lots of water. Throughout the morning I felt fine, but as soon as our guest speaker began lecturing on lesson-planning techniques, my eyes wandered wistfully to the espresso machine and plates of snacks piled in the corner of the classroom. Long story short, I survived and emerged with a renewed appreciation for the food that I have and respect for everyone that fasts throughout Ramadan.

Probably the hardest part of the day was when we discussed traditional foods eaten during Idul Fitri in our language class. I didn't realize until that then, how difficult it must have been for our teachers- Ibu Vita and her sister, Ibu Lilly (both Muslim)- to teach a group of Americans who constantly snacked and drank coffee, but they never once showed a trace of impatience or annoyance. In fact, at the end of the day, the two sisters invited all the ETAs to celebrate the end of Ramadan in their home!



On Friday, about 40 ETAs piled into ancots (little green buses), ojeks (motorcycle taxis) and taxis headed towards Ibu Lilly and Ibu Vita's house. Pretty soon, their house was full of buleh! (Indonesian slang for white people)






















To celebrate Idul Fitri, the sisters cooked a variety of traditional Indonesian foods for us including eggs boiled in a soy-sauce, pickled vegetables, and chicken curry. There was also a basket filled with passion-fruit, snake-fruit, and pears and of course, plenty of ketupat- rice steamed in a basket woven from young coconut leaves. When you unwrap the leaves, you use a knife to slice the densely packed rice. You can find ketupat sold in bushels at street stands all around the city.




After eating too much food, I accompanied Ibu Lilly and a few of the ETAs to visit the neighbors. An important component of Idul Fitri is forgiveness and rebuilding relationships with God, friends and family. Muslim families open their homes to guests and visit each other, greeting one another with the phrase "mohon maaf lahir dan batin" which means "forgive my physical and internal (wrongdoings)".

Ibu Lilly's neighbors welcomed us into their home and showered us with food and questions about what we thought about Indonesia and where we would be teaching. We also took lots of pictures. Fortunately, the neighbors were just as excited as we were to take pictures- they had never seen so many buleh in their home before. Selamat Idul Fitri!