This is me earlier today, playing "guest English speaker" at a new discussion group in the Agriculture Faculty. I got to go on a tour of the cows and goats and pigs as a thankyou for my time!!!! He he he! See the photostream- I am not lying!
Anyway, this week has been very busy and I am quite sure that I am fighting some kind of virus right now which has made it just that bit better. Last night went to the opening of a new vego restraunt owned by Wawan's friend. It was all free, and very delicious!
Agnes just got a job this week in PR at the Novotel- it is her first job and she beat heaps of others to get it- congrats cewek! Alana and I got to hang at the Novotel with Ben the other night, paid way too much for a bowl of Carbonara (worth it!) and got to have a swim. We returned the following morning for breakfast which was delicious, fattening and included baked beans! OMG!!! Yay!
What else? Alana got sick so we aren't going to the Gili's (again) cos she has to sit her exams early next week. However we are planning now on hitting up Jakarta and Bandung..... keep listening for a change of plan! He he he.
Anyways, I had better go and think about dinner. Maybe even eat some??
PS- Becky- writing this here cos couldn't get on ur blog- that foto is amazing- and Edinburgh sounds rad. Keep at it m'lovely!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
PS
More photo's on the photo stream y'all. You may even be able to notice my haircut..... shaggy mullet but long at the front!
Unanswerable Questions
ts almost 5 oclock here on Saturday night. The weather has been threatening to rain all day. I am sitting on my bed in my kos writing this post waiting for the Lotes Kaki Lima to pass back by the gate to the Kos. A kaki lima is a man with a portable stall that he pushes up and down the streets of yogya selling a variety of different foods and drinks. Lotes is fresh fruit served with a spicy sauce. 2 thousand rupiah. There are also bakso kaki lima (meatball soup), roti kaki lima (bread), Chinese dumpling kaki lima and at night at about 10, a man comes around selling ginger tea and traditional Javanese drinks. Some of them are not too hygienic but the lotes man is fine. It’s all a matter of sensible judgment whether you eat from some of these places.
Anyway, it has been rather a long time since I properly blogged so I will try to catch you up on recent occurrences.
You may recall that last week was progress test chaos? No? Well anyway I had a million tests last week, 2 of them done on less than 5 hours sleep. Nonetheless, my marks were 89, 87 and 82. That’s the only ones I get marks for. I was pleasantly surprised given the minimal amount of time I spend at my desk. Next week is mid semester exams, and I have 6 in one week, including for International Security. However, after that is finished, I am going away with Alana. Hallelujah. We have around 10 days off on last calculation, so I think we are going to hit up the Gili Islands, Lombok and Bali. Depends on how long I can make my (I just ate my lotes, back now!) money last.
So, what else? I spent a sizeable chunk of this week hanging out in the hospital with Ben, who unfortunately had a 3 night stay for some mysterious, as yet undiagnosed, disorder. Initially, the word on the street was that he had typhoid, however, in true Indo style, the diagnosis changed to “belum pasti”, not sure, and on my last information the sickness remains a mystery. The good news is that after 48 hours continuous hydration and some antibiotics he felt much better and was discharged yesterday. His parents have now kindly put him up in a very nice hotel here for a few days.
However, I must say, my experience of the Indo hospital system was pretty good. The nurses were lovely, efficient and attentive and the hospital itself, dare I say it, is probably better than the Modbury Hospital in Adelaide, based on the recent experiences of my family in that place! As far as I can tell, the key to the Indo hospital system is money. If you have it, you get the best care, the nicest room and the swiftest recovery. It you don’t have it, well, essentially you get crammed into a ward with everyone else who has no money and wait your turn. Not unlike the American health system really.
Aside from that, I had my first lesson on a motor bike and got the hang of it after about 15 minutes. But I haven’t tried again, and certainly haven’t gone on the road. Nanti aja. Later!
Last night I went to 2 big Yogya nightclubs which are right next door to each other and which last night had a special event on called “Double Impact”. There were some great DJ’s from Jakarta there and of course, me and the girls were busting it on the dancefloor. We also got to meet Adjo (maybe wrong name!!) another star from that film Mengejar Matahari which had Winky in it (the DJ from a while back!) See photo’s! There were also some models from some dodgy mens magazine there, who were dancing on the bar and making all the men in the room gaga, and much to the delight of the bule boys who were there, they came over to me and the other girls after they finished dancing because they had seen us dancing earlier. They were gorgeous. The lads were in their element! He he he.
So that was a good night. But it is a quiet one for me tonight because of exams next week. A week off clubbing before I go away with Alana. Yay!
And finally, I have realized that I am becoming very good at positing unanswerable questions in this country. For example, why do people always say “hello miss” as I walk down the street, why do I almost always hit my head when I am walking down narrow stairways and why is shoe size 40 different here to in Australia. But my favourite unanswerable question of the day is, how is it that I receive my underwear in neatly ironed piles twice a week and it is never confused with anyone elses, even though there are 20 girls living in my kos? How does the maid know which are my underwear, when she never sees me put it out in the basket? It is an utter mystery. And the reason I am never going to know the answer to that question, is because I am never going to ask!
And with that dear readers, I bid you farewell. Selamat Malam!
Anyway, it has been rather a long time since I properly blogged so I will try to catch you up on recent occurrences.
You may recall that last week was progress test chaos? No? Well anyway I had a million tests last week, 2 of them done on less than 5 hours sleep. Nonetheless, my marks were 89, 87 and 82. That’s the only ones I get marks for. I was pleasantly surprised given the minimal amount of time I spend at my desk. Next week is mid semester exams, and I have 6 in one week, including for International Security. However, after that is finished, I am going away with Alana. Hallelujah. We have around 10 days off on last calculation, so I think we are going to hit up the Gili Islands, Lombok and Bali. Depends on how long I can make my (I just ate my lotes, back now!) money last.
So, what else? I spent a sizeable chunk of this week hanging out in the hospital with Ben, who unfortunately had a 3 night stay for some mysterious, as yet undiagnosed, disorder. Initially, the word on the street was that he had typhoid, however, in true Indo style, the diagnosis changed to “belum pasti”, not sure, and on my last information the sickness remains a mystery. The good news is that after 48 hours continuous hydration and some antibiotics he felt much better and was discharged yesterday. His parents have now kindly put him up in a very nice hotel here for a few days.
However, I must say, my experience of the Indo hospital system was pretty good. The nurses were lovely, efficient and attentive and the hospital itself, dare I say it, is probably better than the Modbury Hospital in Adelaide, based on the recent experiences of my family in that place! As far as I can tell, the key to the Indo hospital system is money. If you have it, you get the best care, the nicest room and the swiftest recovery. It you don’t have it, well, essentially you get crammed into a ward with everyone else who has no money and wait your turn. Not unlike the American health system really.
Aside from that, I had my first lesson on a motor bike and got the hang of it after about 15 minutes. But I haven’t tried again, and certainly haven’t gone on the road. Nanti aja. Later!
Last night I went to 2 big Yogya nightclubs which are right next door to each other and which last night had a special event on called “Double Impact”. There were some great DJ’s from Jakarta there and of course, me and the girls were busting it on the dancefloor. We also got to meet Adjo (maybe wrong name!!) another star from that film Mengejar Matahari which had Winky in it (the DJ from a while back!) See photo’s! There were also some models from some dodgy mens magazine there, who were dancing on the bar and making all the men in the room gaga, and much to the delight of the bule boys who were there, they came over to me and the other girls after they finished dancing because they had seen us dancing earlier. They were gorgeous. The lads were in their element! He he he.
So that was a good night. But it is a quiet one for me tonight because of exams next week. A week off clubbing before I go away with Alana. Yay!
And finally, I have realized that I am becoming very good at positing unanswerable questions in this country. For example, why do people always say “hello miss” as I walk down the street, why do I almost always hit my head when I am walking down narrow stairways and why is shoe size 40 different here to in Australia. But my favourite unanswerable question of the day is, how is it that I receive my underwear in neatly ironed piles twice a week and it is never confused with anyone elses, even though there are 20 girls living in my kos? How does the maid know which are my underwear, when she never sees me put it out in the basket? It is an utter mystery. And the reason I am never going to know the answer to that question, is because I am never going to ask!
And with that dear readers, I bid you farewell. Selamat Malam!
one of the models from hugo's
this is a cool photo don't you think??! can u understand why the boys were in their element now?
Bintang Film "Movie Star"
This is Esther and I with Adjo! He was in the same film as Winky (see previous entries)- he was the character who died. Kasihandeh!
This is a kaki lima
I took this pic ages ago, but it helps explain what I was talking about in the post!
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Life is hard at Krakal!
Well people. Just got back from a night at Krakal. Beautiful. I was doing homework down there though, just so u aren't too jealous.
Commendations to all the closet readers, (special mentions to Julie-Anne, Vicki, Sandra and Frilly) who have come out and commmented (!), but there are still a few (a lot) out there, you will be named in the next week, friends who know who you are!
As for the bribery- santai. Its de rigeur. Massive problem, but unfortunately more endemic here than dengue fever.
And finally people- keep checking the photo stream cos I will terus-menurus put photo's on there ya-kan!
I have exams this week and next- wish me luck!
And well done SA ALP. Let's use the mandate too good effect ya!
Commendations to all the closet readers, (special mentions to Julie-Anne, Vicki, Sandra and Frilly) who have come out and commmented (!), but there are still a few (a lot) out there, you will be named in the next week, friends who know who you are!
As for the bribery- santai. Its de rigeur. Massive problem, but unfortunately more endemic here than dengue fever.
And finally people- keep checking the photo stream cos I will terus-menurus put photo's on there ya-kan!
I have exams this week and next- wish me luck!
And well done SA ALP. Let's use the mandate too good effect ya!
schwim schwim schwim
That little dot is me swimming! Beautiful weather, but the ride home was nerve racking- the clouds were grey and swollen with impending rain. Luckily we made it back on the bikes just as the first plops came down. 5 minutes later Jalan Kaliurang was like a river.
Friday, March 17, 2006
mempesona
Well it is Friday. The kos is a hive of activity because Friday is the day where all male Muslims MUST go to the mosque, but as far as I can tell, nearly all the girls here pay a visit to the mosque on a Friday too. They float out of the gate wearing their special jilbab for praying (I think it has another name but I have forgotten it) and float back in after half an hour or so. The jilbab is the head covering that many Muslim women wear here. For praying they have a special one that is white. Basically they just throw it over whatever they are wearing at the time and then go and pray.
The commitment of Muslims to the obligations of their faith is amazing. I don’t profess to be an expert in theology but to unfailingly pray 5 times a day, or more, is pretty devoted. That’s not to say that every Indonesian Muslim is like that, in fact, as far as I can see it is a minority that is that committed, but nonetheless in my living environs the family I am with and the girls quietly carry out their obligations to God in a way that is completely integrated into their daily routine. Unassuming and unobtrusive. It’s interesting to contrast the practicing of faith in this way with some of the in your face “new” Christians in America and even Australia, measuring their commitment to their faith with how sizeable their donations to the Church, or how profound their conservative impact on government policy. For every contrast there is a counter-contrast. Every faith has extremists and extremism. Tarring the whole of Indonesia with the muslim extremist brush, it is becoming increasingly apparent to me, is not only completely inaccurate but also lazy. Jihadists receive about as much affection from the average Indo muslim as from you or I. And that concludes Adelle’s pondering on religion 101. Where did that rant come from? I must be grumpy.
Terus. Moving on. I am supposed to finish telling you about my regular routine aren’t I? I might do it another time.
So what’s new with me anyway? I spent all week doing progress tests for my language classes. I got 86 for writing but haven’t got any other grades back yet. I am fairly sure my grades for Translation and Vocab will be mediochre. But regardless of how good (or bad) my marks here, it just translates back to 12 unmarked points on my Australian transcript. So my philosophy goes something like- every minute I spend sitting at my desk alone, is a minute I could be out with friends speaking Indonesian, talking to people on the street or volunteering or something like that.
Speaking of which, I am going to an organisation called Satu Nama on Monday to start volunteering with Esther. Not sure exactly what I am going to be doing there. They are basically an NGO that does community development activities across Indonesia. I may end up doing some work on a new law that has been passed which essentially starts a process of decentralization from the central government, and will give increased autonomy to the provinces. I think that there is a belief that corruption will be reduced if the regions have more control over their governments. I am not so sure. I am also going to an orphanage this afternoon. A lot of the ACICIS girls have been going there. Will try and get photos and stuff.
I have a funny corruption story as well. Actually, it is probably better described as alarming, but anyway. Corruption is so overt here. Just last weekend we had to pay bribes for riding without documentation. There was no documentation because it was stolen with Ben’s wallet the day before. I had mine, but I wasn’t a rider so I personally didn’t have to pay a bribe. Another guy I know got pulled over by the Narcotic police in another city and had to pay money for not having his documentation on him, even though, quite obviously, he was not carrying narcotics. When this guy offered 50 thousand rupiah, the policeman suggested he go to the ATM and withdraw more. I am sure that I will have many more stories like this one for you before my time is up.
Anyway, this is a rather schizophrenic post. My apologies. I am a little tired, a little narky, a little looking forward to going to the beach tomorrow. Am in the process of planning my traveling for the mid semester break, my only real chance to go far from Yogya. Hopefully to Lombok and the Gili Islands. Finally. But my expectations are low that anything will actually happen. It saves disappointment!
And finally, I really shouldn’t have been so quick to call the word mempesona a useless word. Since I blogged that comment about it being a waste of a neuron, I have seen it on a million advertisements for new housing estates. Rumah-rumah pesona. Enchanting homes.
See. What the hell do I know about this language?
The commitment of Muslims to the obligations of their faith is amazing. I don’t profess to be an expert in theology but to unfailingly pray 5 times a day, or more, is pretty devoted. That’s not to say that every Indonesian Muslim is like that, in fact, as far as I can see it is a minority that is that committed, but nonetheless in my living environs the family I am with and the girls quietly carry out their obligations to God in a way that is completely integrated into their daily routine. Unassuming and unobtrusive. It’s interesting to contrast the practicing of faith in this way with some of the in your face “new” Christians in America and even Australia, measuring their commitment to their faith with how sizeable their donations to the Church, or how profound their conservative impact on government policy. For every contrast there is a counter-contrast. Every faith has extremists and extremism. Tarring the whole of Indonesia with the muslim extremist brush, it is becoming increasingly apparent to me, is not only completely inaccurate but also lazy. Jihadists receive about as much affection from the average Indo muslim as from you or I. And that concludes Adelle’s pondering on religion 101. Where did that rant come from? I must be grumpy.
Terus. Moving on. I am supposed to finish telling you about my regular routine aren’t I? I might do it another time.
So what’s new with me anyway? I spent all week doing progress tests for my language classes. I got 86 for writing but haven’t got any other grades back yet. I am fairly sure my grades for Translation and Vocab will be mediochre. But regardless of how good (or bad) my marks here, it just translates back to 12 unmarked points on my Australian transcript. So my philosophy goes something like- every minute I spend sitting at my desk alone, is a minute I could be out with friends speaking Indonesian, talking to people on the street or volunteering or something like that.
Speaking of which, I am going to an organisation called Satu Nama on Monday to start volunteering with Esther. Not sure exactly what I am going to be doing there. They are basically an NGO that does community development activities across Indonesia. I may end up doing some work on a new law that has been passed which essentially starts a process of decentralization from the central government, and will give increased autonomy to the provinces. I think that there is a belief that corruption will be reduced if the regions have more control over their governments. I am not so sure. I am also going to an orphanage this afternoon. A lot of the ACICIS girls have been going there. Will try and get photos and stuff.
I have a funny corruption story as well. Actually, it is probably better described as alarming, but anyway. Corruption is so overt here. Just last weekend we had to pay bribes for riding without documentation. There was no documentation because it was stolen with Ben’s wallet the day before. I had mine, but I wasn’t a rider so I personally didn’t have to pay a bribe. Another guy I know got pulled over by the Narcotic police in another city and had to pay money for not having his documentation on him, even though, quite obviously, he was not carrying narcotics. When this guy offered 50 thousand rupiah, the policeman suggested he go to the ATM and withdraw more. I am sure that I will have many more stories like this one for you before my time is up.
Anyway, this is a rather schizophrenic post. My apologies. I am a little tired, a little narky, a little looking forward to going to the beach tomorrow. Am in the process of planning my traveling for the mid semester break, my only real chance to go far from Yogya. Hopefully to Lombok and the Gili Islands. Finally. But my expectations are low that anything will actually happen. It saves disappointment!
And finally, I really shouldn’t have been so quick to call the word mempesona a useless word. Since I blogged that comment about it being a waste of a neuron, I have seen it on a million advertisements for new housing estates. Rumah-rumah pesona. Enchanting homes.
See. What the hell do I know about this language?
Monday, March 13, 2006
Me and Nes
Agnes my champion pal who lives upstairs in my old room at the Kos. Party girl and legend. Smart, fluent in a bijillion languages, and always taking me everywhere on the back of her bike!!!
Berduduk Sendirian
Had a great weekend- went to Prambanan (loads of temples and stuff) on Saturday and Kaliurang (in the mountains) on Sunday.
This is me sitting at the entrance to a temple!
This is me sitting at the entrance to a temple!
Friday, March 10, 2006
I Am Usually Catatonic Till 10am
Well, it is the moment that you have all been waiting for- Part 2 of hum drum life in Yogya.
Where was I- that’s right, I have just arrived at Uni after suicide busride.
Moving along: I am not sure whether I posted on here the fact that I am in the advanced class for my language subjects. We sat a placement test here in the first week, and despite my abysmal performance (or so I thought) they stuck me in the Lanjut/Advanced class with all the people who have been studying the language much longer than I. The consequence of this is that I feel like I often make a fool of myself in class, and/or leave class feeling more confused than when I arrived. That said, I really enjoy my language classes.
I take Membaca (Reading), Menulis (Writing), Terjemahan (Translation), Kosa Kata (Vocabulary) and Tata Bahasa (Grammar). Classes are two hours long, with a 10 minute break just before the hour where all the INCULS students gather at the coffee room and discuss the gossip. There is usually plenty. It’s one of the consequences of being involved in a small community of ex-pats- everyone knows everyone else’s business.
Anyway, the classes. My current favourite is Menulis with Pak Rudi. He enjoys using me as an example in class. The consequence of this is that when I am falling asleep, I am jerked awake by the sound of my name being used in a sentence. Pak Rudi is very animated, and I am sure even an observer with no Indonesian ability would enjoy his overblown demonstrations of concepts, which become increasingly large the more blank the collective expression of the class.
My second favourite is Kosa Kata in which my vocabulary of both useful and useless words is being commensurately increased. (Just briefly, I am a bit of a fan of the word commensurate, but my current favourite English word is catatonic, because it is an apt description of my default mental state in this country!) An example of a useful word that I have learned is : terpinggirkan (marginalized) and example of a useless (low frequency) word is mempesona (a verb meaning “to enchant”).
So that is a brief summary of my INCULS classes.
Perhaps more interesting is my experience in my Immersion class “International Security Studies”. There are two lecturers for this subject- one who I can understand about 80% and one who I can not understand at all, largely because he likes to mix Javanese and Indonesian language in the way that only the Javanese can. We had a test in this class on Tuesday, which caused me to feel physically ill for a time until someone told me that no matter how badly or well u do in your immersion classes, as a foreigner the rule is “B for Bule” or in other words B for foreigner. So that was a load off.
Anyway, this particular test was based on some readings in English on the basic definition of security. One of these articles in particular was bloody difficult- I read it three times, and that was how many times it took for me to have a clear picture of what the author was trying to say. And English is my first language. So I felt very sorry for my Indonesian peers. 90% of Australia would not understand that article.
The structure of the test was as follows; the dosen wrote a question on the bored and then yelled “dua minut saja” or something, which meant “2 minutes only”. I then had to scrawl an answer in Indonesian to a question about which I seriously doubted my understanding. Anyway, we will see if the B for Bule theory holds up next week.
OK, so that’s my classes. However, I may have mislead you somewhat to this point, as to suggest that I have class every day would be wrong, in fact it would be a total lie. I have Monday’s and Friday’s off, one class on Tuesday and then 2 and 3 classes on Wednesday and Thursday.
One other regular study related activity is meetings with my tutor ReRe. INCULS allocates us with a tutor and by ACICIS rules we have to meet them 6 times. ReRe is an absolute champion so I have already met with her maybe 4 times and we are only 25% through the semester. Anyway, ReRe and I go through my Indo homework and usually knock off the tough stuff in the two hour meeting that we have, leaving me with the relatively simple remainder to complete. ReRe is fluent in 4 languages (Indo, Javanese, English and Japanese) and was originally allocated to me because I was going to be learning Japanese, but since that fell through (grrr) now we just do my homework and hang out.
Now, with study out of the way. What do I do with my weekends, spare weekdays and weekday evenings?
After my activities on campus are finished, I pulang (go home). I mandi (of course) and then I turn off all the lights in my room, shut the curtains and try to istirahat (rest). Sometimes this is like the impossible dream. If the Kos Family kids have just come home from school, I have no hope because they are running around, playing with their toys and squealing as kids do. Othertimes I can’t nap because of overconsumption of a) caffeine or b) sugar. Or, because I am trying to work out when, if ever, I am going to use a word like mempesona, and whether it is worth remembering. By the time my thought process has moved that far, it is usually burned into my long-term memory.
After my often futile attempt to sleep, I wake up (or not) and realize that it is time to head out on the nightly trek for food. One probably negative side effect of the low cost of food here, is that there is no incentive to cook for yourself. There is a kitchen at the kos, fully equipped, but I usually limit my time in there to the preparation of 2 Minute Noodles and 3 in 1 Coffee (sorry, yet to find easy to prepare replacement). Why would I bother buying ingredients, preparing them and cooking them and then washing up, when I can eat a complete meal for $1-$2 usually including a drink (hot lemon tea is my current favourite warung beverage). Anyway, I have a few favourite food spots.
1) Lesehan Wida- this is 30 seconds from the kos and is a permanent warung (as opposed to the thousands that are set up on the side of the road every night). My favourite dishes there are the Ayam Bakar (roast chicken) served with rice and cucumber and consumed without cutlery (actually- no cutlery is de rigeur in these kind of places) and all of the Noodle Dishes.
2) Hollywood Warung – fried chicken, or tofu or tempe, rice and veg. for 5000 rupiah – or about 75 cents. This is a sitting on the side of the road on mats, eating with your hands type restaurant. This is warung of choice when I am bankrupt.
3) Silla- this is upmarket for Yogya- and serves Korean and Japanese food in a Hyatt type atmosphere and in traditional Japanese style with the sunken floors. I ate delicious sukiyaki with unsweetened *hallelujah* green tea here for under $5. Worth every rupiah.
4) Ananda – this is about 2 minutes from my Kos and serves a mix of Chinese, Indo food. The only downside is that you often get smoked out by the dudes at the front roasting the fish on an open grill thingy.
5) Top Java – more of a lunch time establishment for me as it is far from my house but close to Uni. It is a self-service “as you can” type place with a variety of delicious food. I went there the other day to load up on red meat after I decided that I was anemic. It cost 9000 rupiah including lemon tea. Cheap.
Anyway, that’s some of my regular food sources. But I can once again sense your fatigue, so I am going to cut this post once more and continue at a later time, with such topics as the art of nongkrong, ngopi and clubbing.
But as an addendum- I am not officially a temporary resident of Indonesia! I got my KITAS visa last week which means that I can now get a motorbike license, open a bank account and get into the various monuments, temples and other attractions at an Indo price rather than a US dollars price. Yay!
PS Continue to share the blog love people- I am going to start naming the names of my regular readers who don’t comment, and shame you into participation. So ner.
Where was I- that’s right, I have just arrived at Uni after suicide busride.
Moving along: I am not sure whether I posted on here the fact that I am in the advanced class for my language subjects. We sat a placement test here in the first week, and despite my abysmal performance (or so I thought) they stuck me in the Lanjut/Advanced class with all the people who have been studying the language much longer than I. The consequence of this is that I feel like I often make a fool of myself in class, and/or leave class feeling more confused than when I arrived. That said, I really enjoy my language classes.
I take Membaca (Reading), Menulis (Writing), Terjemahan (Translation), Kosa Kata (Vocabulary) and Tata Bahasa (Grammar). Classes are two hours long, with a 10 minute break just before the hour where all the INCULS students gather at the coffee room and discuss the gossip. There is usually plenty. It’s one of the consequences of being involved in a small community of ex-pats- everyone knows everyone else’s business.
Anyway, the classes. My current favourite is Menulis with Pak Rudi. He enjoys using me as an example in class. The consequence of this is that when I am falling asleep, I am jerked awake by the sound of my name being used in a sentence. Pak Rudi is very animated, and I am sure even an observer with no Indonesian ability would enjoy his overblown demonstrations of concepts, which become increasingly large the more blank the collective expression of the class.
My second favourite is Kosa Kata in which my vocabulary of both useful and useless words is being commensurately increased. (Just briefly, I am a bit of a fan of the word commensurate, but my current favourite English word is catatonic, because it is an apt description of my default mental state in this country!) An example of a useful word that I have learned is : terpinggirkan (marginalized) and example of a useless (low frequency) word is mempesona (a verb meaning “to enchant”).
So that is a brief summary of my INCULS classes.
Perhaps more interesting is my experience in my Immersion class “International Security Studies”. There are two lecturers for this subject- one who I can understand about 80% and one who I can not understand at all, largely because he likes to mix Javanese and Indonesian language in the way that only the Javanese can. We had a test in this class on Tuesday, which caused me to feel physically ill for a time until someone told me that no matter how badly or well u do in your immersion classes, as a foreigner the rule is “B for Bule” or in other words B for foreigner. So that was a load off.
Anyway, this particular test was based on some readings in English on the basic definition of security. One of these articles in particular was bloody difficult- I read it three times, and that was how many times it took for me to have a clear picture of what the author was trying to say. And English is my first language. So I felt very sorry for my Indonesian peers. 90% of Australia would not understand that article.
The structure of the test was as follows; the dosen wrote a question on the bored and then yelled “dua minut saja” or something, which meant “2 minutes only”. I then had to scrawl an answer in Indonesian to a question about which I seriously doubted my understanding. Anyway, we will see if the B for Bule theory holds up next week.
OK, so that’s my classes. However, I may have mislead you somewhat to this point, as to suggest that I have class every day would be wrong, in fact it would be a total lie. I have Monday’s and Friday’s off, one class on Tuesday and then 2 and 3 classes on Wednesday and Thursday.
One other regular study related activity is meetings with my tutor ReRe. INCULS allocates us with a tutor and by ACICIS rules we have to meet them 6 times. ReRe is an absolute champion so I have already met with her maybe 4 times and we are only 25% through the semester. Anyway, ReRe and I go through my Indo homework and usually knock off the tough stuff in the two hour meeting that we have, leaving me with the relatively simple remainder to complete. ReRe is fluent in 4 languages (Indo, Javanese, English and Japanese) and was originally allocated to me because I was going to be learning Japanese, but since that fell through (grrr) now we just do my homework and hang out.
Now, with study out of the way. What do I do with my weekends, spare weekdays and weekday evenings?
After my activities on campus are finished, I pulang (go home). I mandi (of course) and then I turn off all the lights in my room, shut the curtains and try to istirahat (rest). Sometimes this is like the impossible dream. If the Kos Family kids have just come home from school, I have no hope because they are running around, playing with their toys and squealing as kids do. Othertimes I can’t nap because of overconsumption of a) caffeine or b) sugar. Or, because I am trying to work out when, if ever, I am going to use a word like mempesona, and whether it is worth remembering. By the time my thought process has moved that far, it is usually burned into my long-term memory.
After my often futile attempt to sleep, I wake up (or not) and realize that it is time to head out on the nightly trek for food. One probably negative side effect of the low cost of food here, is that there is no incentive to cook for yourself. There is a kitchen at the kos, fully equipped, but I usually limit my time in there to the preparation of 2 Minute Noodles and 3 in 1 Coffee (sorry, yet to find easy to prepare replacement). Why would I bother buying ingredients, preparing them and cooking them and then washing up, when I can eat a complete meal for $1-$2 usually including a drink (hot lemon tea is my current favourite warung beverage). Anyway, I have a few favourite food spots.
1) Lesehan Wida- this is 30 seconds from the kos and is a permanent warung (as opposed to the thousands that are set up on the side of the road every night). My favourite dishes there are the Ayam Bakar (roast chicken) served with rice and cucumber and consumed without cutlery (actually- no cutlery is de rigeur in these kind of places) and all of the Noodle Dishes.
2) Hollywood Warung – fried chicken, or tofu or tempe, rice and veg. for 5000 rupiah – or about 75 cents. This is a sitting on the side of the road on mats, eating with your hands type restaurant. This is warung of choice when I am bankrupt.
3) Silla- this is upmarket for Yogya- and serves Korean and Japanese food in a Hyatt type atmosphere and in traditional Japanese style with the sunken floors. I ate delicious sukiyaki with unsweetened *hallelujah* green tea here for under $5. Worth every rupiah.
4) Ananda – this is about 2 minutes from my Kos and serves a mix of Chinese, Indo food. The only downside is that you often get smoked out by the dudes at the front roasting the fish on an open grill thingy.
5) Top Java – more of a lunch time establishment for me as it is far from my house but close to Uni. It is a self-service “as you can” type place with a variety of delicious food. I went there the other day to load up on red meat after I decided that I was anemic. It cost 9000 rupiah including lemon tea. Cheap.
Anyway, that’s some of my regular food sources. But I can once again sense your fatigue, so I am going to cut this post once more and continue at a later time, with such topics as the art of nongkrong, ngopi and clubbing.
But as an addendum- I am not officially a temporary resident of Indonesia! I got my KITAS visa last week which means that I can now get a motorbike license, open a bank account and get into the various monuments, temples and other attractions at an Indo price rather than a US dollars price. Yay!
PS Continue to share the blog love people- I am going to start naming the names of my regular readers who don’t comment, and shame you into participation. So ner.
Samsons Concert Last Night
The live music scene in this city is amazing and there is ALWAYS something going on. In contrast to my crazy Goodnight Electric experience a few weeks back, Samsons are a relatively new, teen soft rock band. Admissions was 40thou ($6) at a club not unlike Heaven, and there were plenty of ABG's or teenagers packing the place out! That said, it was a decent show, that is until the final song (one of 2 that I knew), during which Ben's wallet got pinched from his back pocket, along with a heap of money and Wawan's motorbike registration (big problem- he has to go to Lombok to replace it cos he bought the bike there). So that sucked. But anyways- that's Indonesia.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
da desk
returning to the theme of photo's from "my room"- here is my desk. other riveting pictures can be viewed on the photo stream so do it y'all.
Hyatt Santai
Esther and I santai by the side of the pool at the Hyatt. Highly recommended for all you people who AREN'T coming to visit me. :-)
Cool Rumah Makan/ Restaurant
in lieu of any trip away AT all this weekend, instead, i went swimming at the Hyatt Yogya yesterday with chums, and today went with Wan, Ben, Tante (the aunty!) Om and the babies (and nanny) to lunch at this place- I think the name is Mangengking (or sumthin). Anyways, it was almost a good enough weekend to replace white sand beaches, but not quite!
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Hum-Drum Routine is Happiness on Stick with Sugar on Top
Well after being here over 5 weeks (5 weeks argh- time has actually grown wings and is flapping wildly in my face before flying by) I can proudly say that I have settled into some sort of a groove, and have, shock, a routine (!) which is becoming relatively consistent. I honestly never thought it would happen so I feel compelled to share. Hum-drum it is then.
So usually I wake up, somewhere between the hours of 6.30 and 9. Usually closer to 9. Depending on the mood of my fellow kos girls, I might wake up to hear someone shrieking at the top of her lungs across the kos, someone revving their motor bike for half an hour (usually after it has rained overnight) or someone inconsiderately blasting their stereo for all to hear. More recently, there has been someone staying in the house (quite possibly a relation of Ibu Kos) who enjoys playing the piano, about 5 metres from the door to my room, at indecently early hours. His saving grace is that he is a rather accomplished musician. At least, this is what I tell myself when I am laying in my bed, counting to 10, wishing I was still asleep and wondering how I am going to conceal the bags under my eyes when my MAC concealer runs out……!
Oh, and occasionally I wake up to hear the rare and precious sound of nothing. Occasionally.
After crawling out from under my sarong (that’s what I sleep under) I grab my coffee cup (tall, yellow, plastic) and a sachet of Nescafe 3 in 1 (sugar, milk, coffee) and go to the communal kitchen. I make my coffee. I say hello to Yuti, who is one of the Pembantu’s/house-help here. I grab a bowl and spoon from the rack and return to my room to eat cereal of some description. Of course, this is Indonesia, so that description usually includes obscene amounts of sugar. Often I eat out in the sitting area, where Ibu Kos has a daily warung/food stall. If I eat that food for breakfast I will usually consume white rice, some sort of vegetable dish, and a fish or chicken disk. If it is fish it is usually whole- like a sardine or something. Its’ eye stares up at you from the plate. You get used to it.
The other morning I also tried something new for breakfast, bubur hijau, green porridge- it is a runny green porridge with coconut. And at 1500 rupiah, what a steal. Enak sekali. Delicious. Only thing is I have to walk down and eat it in the warung down the road. So while that in itself is no problem, it has interrupted the flow of my current treatise on daily life….
After that I mandi in my kamar mandi. The psychology of mandi-ing is fascinating to me, and worthy of an entire post at a later date. Indonesian’s take their bathing very seriously. Often in my kos “belum mandi” is used as a conversation starter. It means, “you haven’t had a mandi yet?”. Sometimes I feel like retorting with a smart-alec comment in English. Not sure how much satisfaction I could derive from it though, when most of the kos girls wouldn’t uinderstand. I am developing a minor paranoia that I have a permanent appearance of being dirty. This is despite the fact that I mandi three times a day.
Anyway, terus, moving on- after brekkie and mandi I think about what I am going to wear, whether it has come back from being washed, hope that I have a clean collared shirt to wear to Uni (that is a non-negotiable- same with wearing rubber thongs- no-go on kampus), throw my various books into my bag and walk out to Jakal (the big road) and get a bus.
It may or may not surprise you to hear that Yogya buses are the polar opposite of for example, O-Bahn buses in Adelaide. To begin with you can catch them from anywhere, there are no bus-stops. You just stand on the side of the road and then as a bus approaches, you edge your way into the traffic. The reason you do this is that the bus doesn’t stop, it just slows down. You have to be adept enough to board the bus while it is still in motion. This is challenging. You then sit down in a seat close to the bus-driver- this is for safety and for avoiding pick-pockets. You then hold on for dear life.
I am not 100% clear on the go with the bus system, but it goes something like this. Buses follow a set loop, and do not follow a timetable. They have to make a certain amount in fares before they get back to the depot. “How do they do this?”, I hear you asking. Well, they do it by driving like psychopaths and overtaking other buses at high speed to attempt to collect the fares that lie ahead, that is, poach them from their fellow buses. In Yogya, if you are catching a bus, where possible avoid catching the second in two consecutive buses that are less than 100m apart. My rudimentary calculations have shown me that your chances of dying on the bus increase 10 fold if you catch the second bus. The ride on that bus may or may not involve driving at 80km/hr into oncoming traffic and indeed, other buses.
You may be fortunate/unfortunate enough to be serenaded by a Pengamen whilst aboard the bus. These are the buskers who scratch together a living by playing Top 40 Indo Soft Rock. Often they are very good, in fact the other day I had an excellent one. Other times you want to pay them to shut up. It is hit and miss. In addition to this, I once caught a bus that played techno music all the way to uni. I am yet to catch that bus again. It was much cleaner than the average Yogya bus, which I doubt have been cleaned since their manufacture in 1963.
Techno bus, where are you? I know I can wear white, board you, and end my journey without marks on my shirt……..
Anyway, then I get to Uni after about 5 or 10 minutes. The time frame depends on the extent of the driver’s borderline personality disorder and how strong his penchant for collecting fares at any cost. I leave the bus, trying not to get hit by a passing motorbike or fall flat on my backside after slipping down the stairs. I walk about 300m to INCULS for my classes, grab another coffee from the coffee room, find my buddies and go to class.
Now I think I might have to do installment 2 of this story at a later date as I know that the psychology of many of you will be “oh it’s too long I am not reading it!” So in anticipation of your laziness, I will end here.
However before I go, for your amusement, let me tell you a funny story.
I Did Something Funny on Thursday. A couple of my male friends had modeling photo’s taken here a few weeks back, and I happened to meet their ahem “agent” at dinner 2 weeks ago. He gave me his card and asked if I would be interested in doing modeling. He liked my hair and “proportionate” figure (it sounds a bit euphemistic no?). I pretty much laughed in his face and explained that the notion of me being a model in Australia is not only preposterous but wholly unrealistic as well and no, under no circumstances was I interested. I thought I had done enough to repel him.
Not so. He rang me 3 days later, insistent that he wanted to show me his portfolio and tee up an appointment. I dragged Alana along, and happened to rope in Esther and Zoe too. And to cut a long story short, we had a three hour studio photo session on Thursday night. We selected our photo’s for retouching and portfolio and pick up the finished product next Monday. The ironic thing in all this is that we can’t be paid for our work here because of our visa conditions, so it is all for a laugh. But our photo’s turned out really well, and if nothing else we have them. But Berend (agent dude) seems to think we are going to be asked to do jobs as SPG’s- special presenter girls (or something).
Anyway, many of you would be well aware how seriously I take myself when it comes to things like this, and how hilarious I find it all. But nonetheless, I thought what the hell, had a crack, and had a great time. So stay tuned for my profesh photo’slah.
So usually I wake up, somewhere between the hours of 6.30 and 9. Usually closer to 9. Depending on the mood of my fellow kos girls, I might wake up to hear someone shrieking at the top of her lungs across the kos, someone revving their motor bike for half an hour (usually after it has rained overnight) or someone inconsiderately blasting their stereo for all to hear. More recently, there has been someone staying in the house (quite possibly a relation of Ibu Kos) who enjoys playing the piano, about 5 metres from the door to my room, at indecently early hours. His saving grace is that he is a rather accomplished musician. At least, this is what I tell myself when I am laying in my bed, counting to 10, wishing I was still asleep and wondering how I am going to conceal the bags under my eyes when my MAC concealer runs out……!
Oh, and occasionally I wake up to hear the rare and precious sound of nothing. Occasionally.
After crawling out from under my sarong (that’s what I sleep under) I grab my coffee cup (tall, yellow, plastic) and a sachet of Nescafe 3 in 1 (sugar, milk, coffee) and go to the communal kitchen. I make my coffee. I say hello to Yuti, who is one of the Pembantu’s/house-help here. I grab a bowl and spoon from the rack and return to my room to eat cereal of some description. Of course, this is Indonesia, so that description usually includes obscene amounts of sugar. Often I eat out in the sitting area, where Ibu Kos has a daily warung/food stall. If I eat that food for breakfast I will usually consume white rice, some sort of vegetable dish, and a fish or chicken disk. If it is fish it is usually whole- like a sardine or something. Its’ eye stares up at you from the plate. You get used to it.
The other morning I also tried something new for breakfast, bubur hijau, green porridge- it is a runny green porridge with coconut. And at 1500 rupiah, what a steal. Enak sekali. Delicious. Only thing is I have to walk down and eat it in the warung down the road. So while that in itself is no problem, it has interrupted the flow of my current treatise on daily life….
After that I mandi in my kamar mandi. The psychology of mandi-ing is fascinating to me, and worthy of an entire post at a later date. Indonesian’s take their bathing very seriously. Often in my kos “belum mandi” is used as a conversation starter. It means, “you haven’t had a mandi yet?”. Sometimes I feel like retorting with a smart-alec comment in English. Not sure how much satisfaction I could derive from it though, when most of the kos girls wouldn’t uinderstand. I am developing a minor paranoia that I have a permanent appearance of being dirty. This is despite the fact that I mandi three times a day.
Anyway, terus, moving on- after brekkie and mandi I think about what I am going to wear, whether it has come back from being washed, hope that I have a clean collared shirt to wear to Uni (that is a non-negotiable- same with wearing rubber thongs- no-go on kampus), throw my various books into my bag and walk out to Jakal (the big road) and get a bus.
It may or may not surprise you to hear that Yogya buses are the polar opposite of for example, O-Bahn buses in Adelaide. To begin with you can catch them from anywhere, there are no bus-stops. You just stand on the side of the road and then as a bus approaches, you edge your way into the traffic. The reason you do this is that the bus doesn’t stop, it just slows down. You have to be adept enough to board the bus while it is still in motion. This is challenging. You then sit down in a seat close to the bus-driver- this is for safety and for avoiding pick-pockets. You then hold on for dear life.
I am not 100% clear on the go with the bus system, but it goes something like this. Buses follow a set loop, and do not follow a timetable. They have to make a certain amount in fares before they get back to the depot. “How do they do this?”, I hear you asking. Well, they do it by driving like psychopaths and overtaking other buses at high speed to attempt to collect the fares that lie ahead, that is, poach them from their fellow buses. In Yogya, if you are catching a bus, where possible avoid catching the second in two consecutive buses that are less than 100m apart. My rudimentary calculations have shown me that your chances of dying on the bus increase 10 fold if you catch the second bus. The ride on that bus may or may not involve driving at 80km/hr into oncoming traffic and indeed, other buses.
You may be fortunate/unfortunate enough to be serenaded by a Pengamen whilst aboard the bus. These are the buskers who scratch together a living by playing Top 40 Indo Soft Rock. Often they are very good, in fact the other day I had an excellent one. Other times you want to pay them to shut up. It is hit and miss. In addition to this, I once caught a bus that played techno music all the way to uni. I am yet to catch that bus again. It was much cleaner than the average Yogya bus, which I doubt have been cleaned since their manufacture in 1963.
Techno bus, where are you? I know I can wear white, board you, and end my journey without marks on my shirt……..
Anyway, then I get to Uni after about 5 or 10 minutes. The time frame depends on the extent of the driver’s borderline personality disorder and how strong his penchant for collecting fares at any cost. I leave the bus, trying not to get hit by a passing motorbike or fall flat on my backside after slipping down the stairs. I walk about 300m to INCULS for my classes, grab another coffee from the coffee room, find my buddies and go to class.
Now I think I might have to do installment 2 of this story at a later date as I know that the psychology of many of you will be “oh it’s too long I am not reading it!” So in anticipation of your laziness, I will end here.
However before I go, for your amusement, let me tell you a funny story.
I Did Something Funny on Thursday. A couple of my male friends had modeling photo’s taken here a few weeks back, and I happened to meet their ahem “agent” at dinner 2 weeks ago. He gave me his card and asked if I would be interested in doing modeling. He liked my hair and “proportionate” figure (it sounds a bit euphemistic no?). I pretty much laughed in his face and explained that the notion of me being a model in Australia is not only preposterous but wholly unrealistic as well and no, under no circumstances was I interested. I thought I had done enough to repel him.
Not so. He rang me 3 days later, insistent that he wanted to show me his portfolio and tee up an appointment. I dragged Alana along, and happened to rope in Esther and Zoe too. And to cut a long story short, we had a three hour studio photo session on Thursday night. We selected our photo’s for retouching and portfolio and pick up the finished product next Monday. The ironic thing in all this is that we can’t be paid for our work here because of our visa conditions, so it is all for a laugh. But our photo’s turned out really well, and if nothing else we have them. But Berend (agent dude) seems to think we are going to be asked to do jobs as SPG’s- special presenter girls (or something).
Anyway, many of you would be well aware how seriously I take myself when it comes to things like this, and how hilarious I find it all. But nonetheless, I thought what the hell, had a crack, and had a great time. So stay tuned for my profesh photo’slah.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
My Bed
This is the first in a series of foto's of my room in the kos! My traditional Javanese, wobbly, four-poster, dodgy mattressed and rather comfortable bed! I love it, and it serves as a couch too. The long pillow along the back of the bead head is an indo thing that u are meant to wrap urslef around to facilitate circulation of air etc. I just like it as a head rest m'self, but whatever. PS added some more photo's to the photo stream so just hit the link on the left of the page and check em out. And PS GIVE ME SOME LOVE ON THE BLOG PEOPLE- WHERE ARE UR COMMENTS???!!
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