Love and Romance

Girlfriends

I’m surprised the subject of romance hasn’t come up on this blog before now. I may have touched on it once or twice but I haven’t really had anything positive to write. From my own position there’s been the occasional date and coffee and stuff like that. There was the brief thing with Felicia and the not so brief thing with Hylda which at the time seemed good but never amounted to anything more than  short romances.

The difficulty for an English guy living in Indonesia  is firstly around the whole “what does she see in me?” thing. We’re suspicious.  In our own countries we get by on our charm and our luck as much as on our looks and different people want different things. By building relationships or by seeing what happens from a one night stand in a nightclub the deepest connections can grow. Here in Indonesia it’s different in that as ‘Bule’ we stand out, even in Jalan Jaxa and Blok M.

A few of my friends talk about having felt like accessories such as Prada shoes or a Gucci handbag (notice i didn’t say Tescos own) when out with their girlfriend, cause no matter how you try to get away from it, we’re a must have for some girls. The type of girl who believes all her financial worries will be over the minute she aquires a ‘Bule’ or ATM card as we’re sometimes known.

At this point i should make it clear that I don’t mean Sugar Daddy.  Some guys are still looking out for a trophy wife but I guess they in turn are used for their earning potential and the status they may bring. In fact some Indonesians think we  smell bad, don’t shower enough and have big noses so we’re not on their wish list. But it’s true, others will put up with all of those faults (and more) in the pure hope of a better life.

Then there are those with a plan. The ones for whom love is incidental. A friend of mine got married to an Indonesian in the UK. She then proceeded to get homesick so they and their baby relocated to Jakarta. Next thing you know he’s in the middle of divorce proceedings without a leg to stand on and the house and stuff is all in the name of his missus.

A cautionary tale I agree, but not isloated by any means.

It would be asy to only consider the negatives. Instead lets look at the possibilities for love 8,500 miles from home..

Indeonesian men have a bad rep, some deserved, some not. But in a predominantly Muslim country where a great deal of women are thought less of than the men (look at dress codes and the acceptability of polygamous marriages) it’s no wonder that the recently metrosexualised westerner is attracive. Hell, even the mysoginistioc dinosaur 70 year old is still preferable because in public they have manners and pick up the tab.

It may be a naive opinion but I believe the opportunity to find love exists if you follow the basic rules.

1.   Get to know the culture and social mores of your girlfriend. An understanding of why she won’t hold hands in public or give you a kiss goodbye in front of other people may not be a sign that she’s just with you for the money. Rather her upbringing has taught her that these things are somewhat taboo.

2.   Communication is the key to the Universe, not just the UK. If you talk about what makes you happy and what makes you sad then less is left to chance, assumptions and misunderstanding. This becomes admittedly more difficult in a second language so sometimes a secondary explanation or a question to check understanding may be necessary. One things for certain, learning the langauge is a headstart although you may still struggle with the vagaries of slang.

3.   Relationships fail everywhere, not just Indonesia. If yours does, accept it and move on.

4.   If you choose to make your partner the one night stand you met in a club and gave Rp250,000 for the cab fare home, i’m tempted to say you’ll get what you pay for. And if that’s what you want then good luck and well done.

So where do you meet the girl of your dreams? Well, as i mentioned before you propbably won’t need to make many introductions as you’ll find that the more forward girls will come to you. If you’re respectful and considerate you’ll be attractive. If you speak the language reasonably well you’ll have a greater number of people to choose from. If you are god’s gift to women, I guess you stopped reading after the first sentence.

There’s always the people you work with, but spare a thought for what happens if it doesn’t work. And again there’s the internet. It depends on your opportunities to meet women, your self confidence and a little bit of luck.

The path of true love is often difficult to see, sometimes has hidden traps and amongst the roses there’s the occasional Raffelesia.

Without naming names i have friends that are in great relationships. I have others who aren’t. It’s so easy to fall in love here because 90% of the girls are beautiful but as with girls from your own country, they are just as likely to have baggage from previous relationships .

Belitung - 5th to the 9th September 2011

There are things that never cease to amaze me during my stay here in Indonesia.  The people, the weather, the food, the customs but nothing has amazed me more than this particular event.

We arrived on Belitung, an island off the western coast of Sumatra, on Monday and were met at the airport by Ary. To say it was invaluable having Emma’s contacts and advice from the previous week is an understatement and Ary took us from the airport to look at his two hotels. Ideally we were going to stay at Lor-in on the coast near Tanjung Tinggi but on seeing the two cottages closest to the sea at Pondok Impian 2, we booked both and  unpacked.

An afternoon on the beach at Tanjung Tinggi was followed by an evening searching for a restaurant in Tanjung Pandan. I’m not sure what we expected to find but we were a little limited by the need for food that wasn’t too spicy, Mum and Dad still aren’t quite used to the power of the chillies here! The search concluded on the waterfront where, despite lots of “sorry mister, no beef/fish/chicken” i was able to eat an amazing noodle dish while my dad had a sorry looking spag boll and mum had an omelette! There had to be better than this.....

Tuesday was an early start with a car trip around the Northern tip of the island. This really is a beautiful place but the lack of road signs is frustrating at best! We made our way back to Tinggi for a swim and the water was beautiful. The surrounding granite rock formations are some of the most uniquely beautiful i’ve ever seen.

Following a quick lunch of fresh coconut and sate skewers that came to a total of 34,000 for the three of us, we started to head south and seeing signs for a couple of Pelabuhans we headed for them. I always thought Pelabuhan meant beach but what we were met with was  a huge concrete road heading out to a docking station for small ships.

Stopping to take some pictures, we were just about to get into the car when my dad tripped and fell. The resulting gash in his leg, just adjacent to the shin bone, immediately started leaking blood of a deep crimson colour. Not good.

I ran back and got the car threw dad in the front (not literally of course) mum in the back and headed for Tanjung Pandan. ......at speed.

Now i don’t expect you all to believe what i’m about to tell you but it’s true, i promise. At 4.02 we entered the small hospital past a line of Indonesians varying in their sicknesses. There were two rooms. A waiting room and a treatment room. We were directed to an empty bed in the busy treatment room and were immediately seen by a doctor who having once been shown the wound burst into action.

An injection of anaesthetic was followed by what I can only describe as triage surgery. There were no niceties or bedside manner just an urgent cleaning of the wound that happened in front of my still bewildered eyes. Running through my brain at the same time were thoughts such as “you haven’t even asked his name”, “where’s the private room?”,” are you really doing this right here and right now?”. When i say infront of my bewildered eyes i would also like to include the curious audience that had gathered to watch. The table that my dad was on was open to the whole room.  The looks of awe and amazement at seeing a bule in general public, was multiplied to see one lying on a hospital bed with a wad of gauze packed into a hole in their leg. The craning necks seemed to want to identify that our blood was red as well and not some kind of bluish green that they’d been misinformed about .

I should tell you that the audience included someone’s grandma who had just died on the next table and a man holding his severed finger, more interested in my dad’s treatment than the re-attachment of his digit. On the next table to him was a woman whose waters had burst and was awaiting delivery of Belitungs newest arrival....one in and one out it appeared.

Throughout all this my worried looking mum was in and out to check on proceedings. My Dad is without doubt the strongest man i’ve ever met. Throughout what was a painful experience (obvious by the look on his face and gritted teeth) he didn’t complain once, not once.  To clean the wound involved sticking wads of gauze inside the hole in his leg and then dripping some white liquid from a height. At one point another liquid was put in which immediately started foaming like a corrosive acid. Still not a single complaint.

Then the stitching. Disolvable intenal stitches went in first and were quickly followed by black cat-gut stitches on the outside and then padding and a bandage.

The procedure ended with a tetanus injection at 4.25.

Twenty-three minutes for three internal stitches and three external stitches. A thorough cleansing of the wound and a tetanus jab. And a bill, including antibiotics and other drugs that came to Rp380,000. All together! (around £25 in English money!)

Handshakes all round were distributed and to the waving of still awestruck locals we departed the hospital.

Back at the hotel a cold guinness was just what the doctor (I’m sure would have) ordered for dad and it went  down well before a well deserved sleep.

Wednesday was originally planned as the day of the boat-trip around a few islands. But with the recent incapacitation of Mr Stoker Senior, we decided to head for Memboleng, and what a great decision it turned out to be.

Following a quick trip to the hospital to change the bandages, we headed out of Tanjung Pandan and pointed the car south. Following the coast to our right, the road occasionally pushed us inland to view the scenery there. Glimpses of monkeys playing in the road were interspersed with stops to top up the petrol and take pictures of the variety of colourful houses. Currently this island would appear to have one functioning petrol station (more are being built but not finished yet). The common thing to do is to stop at a shop/house/shack that has 1 litre and 5 litre containers outside and have them fill the tank through a funnel and hose contraption.

I mentioned that new petrol stations are being built (we’ve seen a couple around Tanjung Pandan and Tanjung Tinggi) but my concerns are A) what happens after the imminent boat festival (Sail Wakatobi in October which will see sail boats from many nations, as well as their entourages arrive on the island) and the tourists leave? Will the garages continue to be manned? And B) is this the first of many changes about to take place on this delightfully concealed island? There is a definite edge of selfishness in what i’m concerned about as i don’t want to see this beautiful island commercialised.

There are plenty of waroeng style food outlets but  very few actual restaurants that are obvious to the naked eye. The only sign of corporate branding is the KFC that sits proudly in the centre of Tanjung Pandan. Rather people cook for themselves or head to a waroeng and eat in or get the food wrapped in banana leaf and brown paper to take away.

No Starbucks doesn’t mean a lack of coffee....rather you get the local Java blend and depending on your ability with Indonesian it will come as you asked. It won’t be a moccachino with whipped cream and hazlenut syrup, but it will be strong and tasty. I know that some people find it impossible to go without fast food but trust me when i say sate chicken is the tastiest, fastest snack available.

So back to Wednesday. The car brought us to a part of the southern coast where we were surrounded on two sides by water. The beach was again pristine and white and there wasn’t another soul to be seen. Leaving Dad holding the car keys, Mum and I took it as an opportunity for a swim. It was as close to having your own private island as i think it’s possible to get.

Moving on with a plan to head to the other side of the island, we stopped briefly in Memboleng for some food. This was bakso (meatball) soup with plain rice and padang style spicy chicken. The roadside stall we ate at probably didn’t get that many Bule tourists so the looks of astonishment at our arrival were quite funny.

Heading towards Tanjung Lusa, we arrived to find a long rickety wooden pier heading out into the ocean. The kids, all laughing and pointing, that we saw grouped around the rocks at the entrance to the pier, soon plucked up the courage to ride their motorbikes along the pier to join us and ask us questions. I say courage as it came in two forms. The first was obviously approaching older Bules. The second was that if you saw the state of the pier with rotting slats supported by bamboo in the pier, you’d never have walked on it let alone rode a heavy motorbike carrying two passengers!!

The ride back through hilly, forrested countryside and more villages was just spectacular, with the windows wound down allowing us to wave at the many people shouting “hey mister”.

Back at Pondok Impian 2, we relaxed before again dining on amazing prawns, chicken and vegetables at the next door Restaurant Luat that we had somehow missed on our first evening.

Thursday morning arrived with Mum and I walking out on the sand flats outside the cottages, made available by the receeded tide to watch guys apparently digging in the sand for nothing in particular. The mass of tiny sand crabs swarmed and seethed infront of us as we walked through the shallow warm water.

Arriving back to find breakfast of nasi goreng, mie goreng and roti bakar with strong coffe, this fortified us before our ride up to Lor-in near Tinggi.

The hotel overlooked a completely deserted beach of pristine soft sand and having got Dad settled in a lounger in the shade to read his book, Mum and I went for a swim. The water can only be described as crystal clear. This is a term that has been widely over-used but is the only description which can be applied in this case.

The rest of the day was spent exploring more around Tanjung Tinggi.

Friday arrived and it was time to leave beautiful Belitung but there is no way this will be the last trip here.

see my facebook page for more photos from this trip

Routine

So today is the 18th August 2011 and the day after Indonesian Independance day. Yesterday I went with three of the teachers, Mike, Katie and Emma to the Snow Bay water park at Taman Mini. It's my second trip there but since we had use of an EF car, the sun was shining and two thirds of the population are fasting so it would be quiet, it seemed the ideal destination.

It was a great day out culminating in a wide range of sunburns and sushi at Sushi Naga in BSD which is always good (that'll be the sushi, not the sunburn)

Today is back to normal though but what is normal?

Well, I usually arrive at work between 9 and 10. This depends on if I have to drop my laundry off which today I did so today I arrived at 9.45.

I should put in the perspective that teaching doesn't start until 2pm for kindergarten aged 'Small Stars' and 3pm for regular classes and goes on until 9pm Monday to Friday. Saturday is a 9am start and a 1.30pm finish. My contract also insists I work 40 hours a week so anything over that is down to me I guess.

Anyone who knows me, knows I throw myself into my work 100% and here is no different. With teacher shortages the last three weeks I have been doing 52 hour weeks with up to 23 hours of contact teaching. But what I can say is that while it's been tough juggling teaching with administration, it's also been fun. I'm not quite sure the teachers would agree because if I do more teaching hours, the less time I have to observe them and do developmental workshops, but they've been a stoic bunch and I'm proud of them.

 But back to a normal day.....

When I arrive the first thing I do is make a pot of strong coffee. On my first day as acting DoS here back in January, the first thing I did was to buy a coffee machine. It's used by the other staff and whilst in the UK I tend to drink alot of tea, due to the sweetness of the milk in Indonesia I prefer to drink coffee here as I take it black.

While waiting for the coffee to brew I'll usually sit and scan the pages of the daily edition of the Jakarta Post, an English Language newspaper delivered every morning. Once the coffee is made I'll read a couple of stories in more detail and today's is the ongoing problem of Nazaruddin.

This guy Nazaruddin is a wanted criminal who has just been extradited from Columbia. His crime? Corruption, and on a pretty big scale at that too. So why my interest in this story? Well in the west I genuinely believe our governments are corrupt but are better at covering their tracks. Occasionally someone will take the fall at the end of a Machiavellian style plot and we never find out the true circumstances.
Here in Indonesia it's different. The country has had a problem for decades with corruption but they are openly trying to do something about it. In the form of anti corruption committees and high profile trials. But somehow the taint of corruption always seems to reappear.
In this case it is the revelation that 6 high ranking lawmakers visited Nazaruddin in his cell. Off the record. They sought no open permission to do this and there is no record of the details of the conversation. Maybe it was just a case of a bunch of old friends catching up on the state of the Premiership without Cesc Fabregas.....or maybe not. Whilst there is no record of the conversation, there was somehow tv footage of the lawmakers negotiating their entrance to the detention centre. I'm sure the fact that Nazaruddin had openly spoken about key colleagues also being involved in his corruption had nothing to do with this visit.
As morning rituals go, this story is akin to watching a 3 year old boy driving a car....funny to start with but you know it won't end well.

After that it's onto the details of the day. I plan any meetings I have to have, update my diary of the previous days events and add in upcoming events and then it's lesson planning. That I can do most of this before anyone else arrives gives me some peace and tranquility and then allows me to make myself available for any issues the teachers may have once they begin to arrive.

Lunch is usually taken at about midday and is often nasi goreng (fried rice) from the local food stall. in between teaching I may do some student placement interviews or I may observe the teachers teaching to offer them suggestion, feedback and encouragement and at the end of the day I may grab some food from a restaurant or go to the supermarket and cook for myself.

So that's pretty much my day......now, what did I do with Emma's evaluation sheet......

Stealth Mugs

I have said before that as a guest in Indonesia i will do my best to respect the laws and customs of the country. However, sometimes after a hard day at work what you really want is an ice cold beer.

But where to get said beverage during the holy month of Ramadan? 99% of the shops remove it from their shelves, the local bar "Barrels" in Sumeracon Mall is selling only mineral water and even the "Happy Puppy Karaoke" establishment next door to EF Gading Serpong has closed for the month.

Now I could travel into Jalan Jaxa or Kemang in Jakarta but when I have to teach 3 hours of IELTS (international exam preparation) at 9am tomorrow and when all I want is one beer, help comes in a somewhat unique form.

I have mentioned Salsa, the food court near our school before and it was to here that Emma, Katie the new Irish teacher (she's from Ireland, not teaching Irish) Oli and I went to our favourite food and beer seller "Amie's"

"Three Bintangs please Ari" was the speculative request (Oli's fasting so he's decided this means no beer either) to which we were told "it'll have to be Heineken cans and we serve them in coffee mugs so no-one knows, is that ok?"

Well, no problem there then, we thought so asked for the menus as well.

Now here comes my favourite part of the experience........the beer duly arrived in said coffee mugs, but what was the pattern on the mugs?? yep, you've guessed it...."Heineken".....I promise, you couldn't make this stuff up!

Smiling in the face of adversity......not always easy

Writing this blog is cathartic, in the sense that once you get stuff "off your chest" (idiom) and "out in the open" (further idiom), it can allow you to open your mind to what's really worth focusing on.

As a Director of Studies, your day is filled with challenges both small and at times seemingly mountainous. Today was the challenge of resolving the ongoing situation of getting my motorbike, or 'Everest' to follow the idiom.

As I have mentioned in a previous entry, six months ago I put my faith in a Dutch-Indonesian guy called Mike. This faith was (mis)placed based on my casual friendship with Mike and his girlfriend Lyn. As you may imagine from the title of this entry, all did not go well and 6 months later I'm still without said motorbike as well as the two million rupiah down payment.

Now I know you're going to say that I probably deserve it. But should living, and aspiring to continue living, in a different country, stop you from making friends and then taking those friends at face value when they offer to help? Well hindsight is one of those gifts that I may have been at the back of the queue for when handed out but I believe that you have to trust people a little. Relatively, two million rupiah equates to about 140.00 pounds so it isn't going to break the bank but obviously there's still the principle of getting it back.

So, what to do next. Well, the idea of spreading the payments over a year seemed sensible. Having only a few months back forked out 30 million to sort out my house and knowing that my parents are also coming to stay for a month in August and still needing some bits for the house before they arrived, the thought of a down payment and then spreading the cost, where I wouldn't really notice the monthly amount appealed even more. Enlisting the help of the Marketing Co-ordinator Yosef and Nina the Centre Manager to leapfrog the hurdle of intensive Bahasa Indonesian language, it transpired that I could indeed accomplish all of this in my own name.

A representative from the Dealership came and completed the forms and took away my inflated deposit of Rp3.75 million with promises that following a successful examination by the leasing chap (a guy comes round and looks at your house to make sure you live there, I kid you not), said bike would be delivered tomorrow 21st July. The following day came the next adversity, the down payment had just risen to 30% of the bike's cost but this would be reflected in the monthly payments and by doing this it was 100% guaranteed the bike would be delivered on the 21st July. So off I trotted to the bank to withdraw more cash.

The house inspector guy came out the same day and left saying that all he needed now were copies of my last three months bank statements. This morning I deviated from my normal route to work to collect the statements from my local branch of Permata (who I've banked with for two and a half years). Dropping them with Yosef at work I was then asked if I had a "Family Card" like other Indonesians. Yep, here comes the next bit of adversity. All of those previous promises were based on being able to produce an identity card which as a Brit we don't possess. But, don't worry Mr Daron/Mr John (this is the problem of including your middle name on anything here, it baffles people as to what to call you) said the guys from the dealership, we can get a letter from the guy who is the unelected head of the area you live in, that you've never met, who wouldn't know you from Adam, to confirm I do indeed live at the address I've actually been living at for the last 6 months............and it will only cost me a further Rp500,000 and a wait of up to a further two weeks.

The complete surprise and amazement of everyone in the room that I didn't leap from my chair and enthusiastically shake everyone's hands for their lopsided attempt at extortion was obvious by the slack-jawed expressions.

The speed with which I suggested that the best thing to do was to return my money took the two dealership guys (I guess there were now two of them if backhanders were being handed out) by surprise and they seemed completely confused as they exited the office without any acknowledgement to their departure.

The upshot? Back to square two. Not square 1 as I'm still awaiting the return of the original 2 million deposit..... You never know.

And finally back to the title of this entry. How do you smile in the face of this adversity? Well, it's Indonesia and you don't sweat the small stuff and realistically, this is small stuff. Something will work out, it always does. You just need to find the particular method to make it happen!

A funny thing happened on the way to the launderette......

Proof that nothing in Indonesia should be taken at face value was confirmed recently by this particular incident.
A live in maid is not exactly compulsory here but it is extremely normal. Paid the equivalent of about 70 pounds a month, the maid usually has a room in the house and her (although sometimes it's a his) duties entail cleaning and laundry with a possibility of shopping thrown in too.
We have two teachers houses here in Gading Serpong and up until recently we had a young maid based in the main house. She cleaned the two teachers houses on a day to day basis and also did the laundry. I attached myself to this rota by having her visit my house once a week to clean and took my laundry to the main house to have it done.
2 weeks ago, the maid left.
Now, I live on my own and my house is easy enough to clean, but laundry and ironing I have always considered to be time I'll never get back and that there are more worthwhile things I can do with that time. So, it was with this particular philosophy that I looked around for someone to do it.
As luck would have it, there was a sign saying "laundry" outside a house two doors away from my house.
I ventured into the driveway one day to enquire and was met by a sweet old Indonesian lady. Using my limited Bahasa Indonesian, I asked if she could do my laundry for me to which I was met with the reply of "EH-EH"
This wasn't the response I was expecting so proceeded to re-request my laundry needs. The woman appeared to understand but yet again said "EH-EH" this time followed buy a further sucession of "EH-EH"'.
It was at this point I realised that the poor old dear had some sort of speech impediment or some such disability, but her frantic nodding made me return to my house to collect the stack of clothes that had built up. I left her my name and address and my phone number and left to a cheerful chorus of "EH-EH"s.
3 days later I went back to check on the status of the laundry and was met by a middle aged woman called Veronica who, it turned out, was the sister of the lady I'd first met.
Veronica looked worried, never a good sign and especially when your worldly clothes posessions are at stake.
Very calmly, Veronica apologised for her sisters enthusiasm at being able to do my laundry and immediately I wondered why. There was a perfectly good sign saying "Laundry" outside the house and EH-EH, as she will always affectionately be known to me as had completed a very formal printed out laundry request form.
The next part didn't take me quite by surprise as it would have done when I was newly arrived in Indonesia. Veronica explained that their laundry was an agency for dry cleaning and that all the clothes are sent away to be dry cleaned at a cost of RP5,000 per item. I was now looking at a bill of over RP200,000 for what should have cost less than RP50,000...................and then she handed me back my laundry bag containing my dirty underwear and tea towels.
On the plus side, Veronica did direct me to a place called "Nina's" in the next street where the sign saying "Laundry" evidently meant they could do day to day laundry.

The moral? It always pays to ask...............

Indonesian Public Holidays 2012

These are the public holidays in Indonesia next year....i think that makes 19 plus i'll get about 9 extra at Christmas next year ...UK, eat your heart out

January 1 (Sunday): New Year
January 23 (Monday): Chinese New Year
February 5 (Sunday): Prophet Muhammad’s birthday
March 23 (Friday): Nyepi, the Hindu Day of Silence
April 6 (Friday): Good FridayMay 6 (Sunday): Waisak
May 17 (Thursday): Jesus Christ’s Ascension Day
June 17 (Sunday): Muhammad’s Ascension Day (Isra Mi’raj)
August 17 (Friday): Independence Day
August 19-20 (Sunday-Monday): Idul Fitri
October 26 (Friday): Idul Adha, the Islamic Day of Sacrifice
November 5 (Monday): Islamic New Year
December 25 (Tuesday): Christmas
Additional Days Off (Cuti Bersama):
May 18 (Friday): Ascension Day
August 21-22 (Tuesday-Wednesday): Idul Fitri
November 16 (Friday): Islamic New Year
December 24 (Monday): Christmas