Selamat pagi! It is 4:20am and I am writing in bed under my mosquito net, listening to the morning call to prayer blasting from the mosque speakers a few streets over. I can hear my Ibu in the kitchen already, frying the tofu and tempeh we will be eating throughout the day. In writing this post, I have resorted to a family game we used to play back home called “Favorite Parts of the Day”. It’s pretty self-explanatory. The thing is though, that every part of my day here is my favorite, and I can’t pick only one. The mornings here are my favorite because I wake up, exercise, mandi (bucket bathe) and then eat my breakfast of rice and vegetable soup on our rooftop patio. Sitting cross legged with my Indonesian homework out for review, I can look out over the mist covered rice paddies and cabbage fields. This is the time of day I usually pinch myself (figuratively) to say “I’m in Indonesia!”
Bahasa class is my favorite part of the day because I get to spend four and a half hours with my fellow core group volunteers, who also happen to be six great individuals. There’s nothing like figuring out pooping in a hole, initially understanding none of the language (not talking to you Josh), and trying to understand a completely new culture to bring people together in such a tightknit way. Not to mention our fantastic Cultural Liason Ebbi, whose patience and contagious laugh keeps us together.
Seeing the neighborhood kids is my favorite part of the day. They are the best people to practice my Indonesian with. For some reason, they are always inside my house, or loitering around it on their little bikes. I’m guessing they like to watch and giggle at the strange American girl fumbling with Indonesian words and eating rice awkwardly with her hand. It’s also because my youngest host brother Ardi is the greatest and everyone wants to be where this kid is at. You would think all this awesomeness would give Ardi a big head and a badass attitude, but in fact he has the kindest soul and the sweetest of dispositions. We like to watch Spongebob Squarepants together and jalan jalan (walk) around the desa where we play the game “What’s That?” It’s an easy game. I ask what something is, and Ardi gives me the word in his kind voice, as if to say “How charming, poor Emily has never seen a child drive a motorbike before”. You’re right Ardi, that was a first for me.
The late afternoons are my favorite because I have them all to myself. What is written above is all true and all wonderful, but do not be fooled, PST is a hard and grueling process. Our days are long, and (as Peace Corps stresses) ours is a 24-7 job representing our home country and culture. Living in a cultural fishbowl is not easy. That is why, after my long day of training is over, I like to come home up to my rooftop view and read or listen to some very American music (lot’s of country and Lupe Fiasco y’all).
My evening meal and mandi is my favorite part of my day. This is the time I get to spend with my host family and I love every second of it. There are many people in my house this time of day. Neighbors stop in to say hello, kids come in and out, and my Ibu and Bapak sit in the living room with everyone, holding court. It turns out my Ibu is kind of a big deal. She is the village coordinator, organizing social and political events, and bringing larger issues to the attention of local government. She won my friends over with her constant supply of snacks and drinks for our study sessions, and she makes me feel at home with her smile. Maybe more of an Ibu than my actual Ibu (you know, because Ibu is out there gettin’ shit done) is my Nenek. I wasn’t sure if my Nenek liked me at first, because she was always yelling at me to do things. “Eat now!” “Go take a mandi!” “Eat more!” “Put on these slippers!” “You are tired, go to sleep!”. As my bahasa has improved, I see that Nenek is watching out for me, and always has my back. She stands over me while I practice what I learned in class, and she thumps me on my shoulder when I get it right, and pulls me into her big, jolly belly, chuckling when I get it wrong. She is my very own Indonesian grandmama-bear.
After my evening mandi, lying in bed before I fall asleep is my favorite part of my day. I tuck in my mosquito net and I listen to the crickets outside my window. I like to watch the gecko that lives in my ceiling scramble around in the moonlight. This is the time of day when I take a moment to remind myself of how glad I am to be here and how wonderful Indonesia is. I know there will be times in the coming months and years that will be challenging, and tough times always makes it easy to forget the good ones. I close my eyes and try to imprint this happy feeling on my brain, so I can recall it when I need it most. With my eyes still closed I then send my love and good thoughts to all of you back home. I miss you very much. I think about what you are doing, what you are having for breakfast as I fall asleep (please have a bowl of granola and yogurt for me) and wish you all the very best. And with that, my day is done. *I am writing these posts at home and then blogging when I have the time to run to an Internet cafe. In the mean time, a letter would be wonderful! I promise I will write you back 🙂
rootsandfernweh 