Good Morning, Java!: This Post ends with Photos!!!

Hey there, family and friends!

Well, I have allowed nearly two weeks to pass without a word on my blog. I'm not sure if it's a testament to my busyness or my laziness, but either way, this post is long overdue! I hope that the pictures I've FINALLY been able to post (due to unlikely circumstances that I will explain later) will make up for my two week absence. I also will apologize now for the length of this post. I've broken it into paragraphs so that you can take some bathroom and snack breaks in between! ;) Enjoy...

Last Friday (November 18th, also my sister's birthday), I went on my second class trip with the TK. We left in three carloads to head to the zoo first thing Friday morning. There were at least 10 kids packed into each van, including sharing the front seat with me. Let me just say that I think I was more excited than any of those kids, at the prospect of going to the zoo. I impatiently sat in the front seat, wishing that these five year olds would hurry up just a little bit, so that we could get going! (Loading children into vehicles is no quick task.) After half an hour, we were finally on our way. On the way out, the driver told me I needed to put on my seat belt on. I told him that both myself and the little girl sharing the front seat with me could squeeze into one seat belt, but he said, "No, just you." I was a bit confused when he explained that the children didn't need seat belts- only me- but I chalked it up to another "there must be logic behind this" situation, and sat with my seat belt fastened while the girl stood (not sat, stood) in the front seat beside me. Within about 5 minutes, my excitement began to take a dive. 10 excited five year olds in one car doesn't exactly make for a peaceful ride. The screaming directly in my ear accelerated the plummet in enthusiasm so that by the time we got to the zoo (about an hour later), I was feeling about ready to go home again.When I got out of the car, a teacher asked me if the girl I shared a seat with threw up on the way? I said, "No, why?" The teacher said, "Oh, she usually does." I spent much of the day praying I wouldn't be sharing a seat with her on the way home.

The zoo trip turned out to be quite fun! One of the parents who came along, took me under her wing, and made sure I could experience the zoo to the fullest. I got to feed monkeys, pet a python, and ride an elephant. I passed on holding the cockatoo, who appeared to be in a particularly crochety mood that day, evident from the random nips he took at said parent. I also experienced what my sister experienced a few years back, when, while we were looking at it through a glass wall, a tiger on the other side jumped at us. It scared one poor kid so much that I doubt she will ever like tigers again.

The day was long and hot, but it was also a lot of fun. I felt very lucky to get some of the experiences that I did, and was grateful to that parent for making them happen. The good Lord had a different answer to my prayer on the way home, and I found myself sitting with the same kid. I anticipated a quiet ride home after such a busy day, but unfortunately a well-meaning salesman managed to sell whistles to 75% of the kids, who, since the toy was in it's new/novelty stage, blew the whistles happily for the vast majority of the car ride. They quieted down somewhat after one of the kids puked, though I cannot say that that was a consolation. Thank goodness it wasn't the girl sharing my seat (and lucky for me, she had fallen asleep in my lap, so someone else got the task of cleaning up the puke-covered, teary-eyed boy). We arrived back at the church, and I went home shortly after and took a nap, which is very rare for me.

I was at the zoo again on Saturday (with a little less enthusiasm than I had on Friday, as idealistic views gave way to the reality of spending 2 hours in a car, and all morning at the zoo with a group of five year olds) and had a bit more of a relaxing trip this time around, as the kids spent a lot of time in an art contest. I also fed an orangutan from my hand, which, while it was no baby orangutan orphanage in Kalimantan (my dream vacation in Indonesia!), was still a really cool experience. He seemed so gentle and human-like, carefully taking cheetoes from my hand. We really had a connection, I think, between a common love for cheetoes, and a shared hair colour.

My host parents took us out for dinner on Saturday night, to what was hands-down THE best restaurant I have been to in Indonesia, both in food quality and in atmosphere. I've discovered a new favourite food here- udang goreng mayonnaise (fried shrimp with a mayo-esque sauce), and this restaurant made an incredible version of these. They also served Western food, and I enjoyed a truly amazing fettucine carbonara. We even got dessert, as the restaurant is known for their icecream. We ate everything on a lit-up balcony, which overlooked all the lights of Semarang, and beyond that, the sea. It was a beautiful evening.

Monday is usually my day off, but because one of the kindergarten teachers is in school right now, she had some tests to write, so I was asked to come in. It ended up working out really well. I spent my morning at the TK, and then took the afternoon as a break, before heading back to church in the evening for my very first (and possibly very last- I'm not sure if they'll let me come back) kulintang lesson. The kulintang is similar to a piano in that if you can play piano, you can understand how to play the kulintang. That is about as far as the similarities go. The kulintang is played with 3 mallets, two in the right hand and one in the left. You strike the instrument, which looks like a wooden xylophone, to produce a sort of muffled, but really pretty, percussion-y sound (wow, what a weak description- there's what a 3 year music minor has done for me!). My host parents seemed quite convinced that I would catch on quickly, but sadly, that was not the case. I arrived, eager to blow everyone out of the water (because, I thought, I have sixteen years of piano playing behind me... Eventually I will learn that I'm consistently proven wrong whenever I let my God-given gifts go to my head), and instead, wound up holding up the whole class as I squinted at the handwritten chords (which, in my defense, were VERY difficult to follow) and attempted to successfully make the transition from a C chord to a G chord (the first of a multitude of transitions that I didn't even attempt to handle). The teacher also seemed quite crestfallen that I wasn't immediately able to play all of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" (and a dream that shall remain, in a country where "cool" is 28 degrees), and attempted multiple times to show me what to do. I told him that I understood perfectly how to play the instrument, but that I was unable to play at the speed of those who have been practicing for months. Needless to say, it's looking like I will not be joining the group in their performance on Christmas Eve, as was the original plan.

On Tuesday night, I headed off with my host family to Kudus, for a memorial service for my host dad's uncle. Jason is living in Kudus, and usually my host parents really try hard to coordinate visits whenever we are in the same area as another SALTer. This time, however, my host dad told me that there wouldn't be time to see Jason. I was not expecting to tack a visit on to the visitation, and I told him that was totally fine. Around 4:30, we packed into the van (my extended host family and I, for a total of 10 people) for the hour and a half-long drive. We arrived in Kudus at the place where the memorial service was to be held. I quickly discovered that memorial services in Indonesia are quite different than in Canada (why this surprised me, I don't know). We pulled up to a big building, open on three sides. The front part of the building was divided into 6 "stalls", about the size of a bedroom. The rest of the room was open. The stalls are where the caskets go, and the open area is where people sit. The open area can be divided using partitions, in the event that there is more than one memorial service going on, as was the case on Tuesday night. We sat in two rows, facing each other, with the casket at the end of the row. There was food (of course), and we ate a bit and talked for a few minutes, before my host parents said we were going to head out for a bit and then come back. I was so confused, and I asked a million questions- why are we leaving? Where are we going? Why isn't everyone coming with us? My host dad finally said he had to go see a friend for a bit, which was enough of an explanation to keep me quiet. We drove for a few minutes, and then pulled into a church parking lot. My host dad said to me, "Look, who's that?" and out of my window, I saw Irene, Jason's host sister! It turned out that my host parents planned a whole surprise visit to see Jason! I never had any idea!

Around 11:30 on Wednesday, the surprise visit was returned. I opened the door of the kindergarten class upon hearing a knock, and lo and behold, there stood Jason! His pastor had a meeting at the synod office, and Jason came along for the ride. He joined me in the kindergarten (much to the excitement of the 14 little kiddies, who have asked every single day since Jason's last visit, when Jason would be coming back) and then we had a quick lunch before returning to the church for PPA. The lunch break provided me with an opportunity to really barter for transportation (and redeem myself after an experience last week with a truly INSANE woman who somehow got me to pay over two times what the bus ticket should actually cost). I was more confident being with someone else, and my Bahasa Indonesia skills really kicked in. The ride back was particularly successful, as I got the price down from 5,000 rupiah (an attempted rip-off that screamed "I'm doing this because you're white") to 2,000. I've discovered that the key is to barter before getting on, and paying at the beginning of the ride.

Wednesday nights are one of my favourite nights of the week- teaching English at the Gloria Patri Learning Centre with three other people who speak English, and have spent time in North America (two of whom are very involved with MCC). We always go out for dinner after class, and Bu Linda (one of the teachers, and a 3-time host of SALTers in the past) always finds awesome restaurants to try. This week we tried a place that serves ribs and sambal, which is a unique combination, but the ribs were excellent on their own!

Thursday was PPA (teaching the kids in the Compassion International Program) and then a relaxing evening. PPA has been somewhat of a confusing point in this SALT position. They have gone back and forth between having me teach the whole class (one and a half hours two times a week) to teaching none of it at all after I told them that it was too much to teach the whole thing twice a week (to stressful for me to try to figure out, and unfair to the kids, who cannot listen to an hour and a half of English). I'm really hoping that we can get a schedule figured out soon that would allow for shared teaching between myself and the Indonesian teachers who have already been there for awhile.

On Friday at school, I received a phone call from Jeanne, informing me that one of the SALTers is in the hospital (for nothing life-threatening- she is totally fine, and in good spirits) and asked me if I would spend the night with her. I was more than willing, as I hadn't had the opportunity to see this SALTer yet, and I headed off to Kudus a few hours after receiving the phone call. The SALTer and I had a pretty fun night, talking and watching Harry Potter. I was treated yet again with the kindness that Indonesian people are known for, as nurses and doctors chatted with me and eagerly helped me in finding things I needed (I think I was more demanding than the person who is actually sick). Irene, Jason's host sister, also made arrangements to provide me dinner, which was incredibly kind of her.

I woke up at 3:30 in the morning on Saturday morning to catch my 4AM ride from Kudus back to Semarang. By the time I got back to Semarang, I had two hours to sleep before heading to the GKMI synode office for IVEP selection. I met Karen, Major, Pak Lilik, Jason, Nicole, and Laura at the office, and we spent the majority of the day just hanging out and talking, save for 2 hours that we spent administering verbal English tests to 13 IVEP candidates. The poor IVEPers were so nervous, and it reminded me of my own interview for going on SALT about a year ago.

After the IVEP selection day was done, the SALTers came home with me to spend the night. Nicole, Jason, and I, wanted to do something special for Laura to celebrate her birthday. The plan was to order pizza and eat ice cream at my house. My host parents one-upped the plan, and took us to Lind's (that amazing restaurant we went to last week). It turned out that it was a surprise party to celebrate ALL of our birthdays! After dinner, an ice cream cake came out, beautifully decrorated. My host mom produced four candles, in the shape of a 2, a 0, a 1, and a 4. She changed them 3 times, so that we lit candles to celebrate Laura's 20th birthday, Jason, Valen, and my 21st birthdays, and Nicole's 24th birthday. It was such a surprise, and such a beautiful evening!

We all hung out back at my place before bed, and woke up early Sunday morning in time for church. We had a quick breakfast and then headed off to church. After the service, my host parents took us all out to see Sam poo Kong, a Chinese temple and one of the attractions in Semarang. It was pretty cool! After that, we went for lunch, and then came back to the house. I received a text from Dan around 1:00, asking if I could hang out at the hospital again, and, since the last time was surprisingly fun, I was eager to go back (the hospital has wifi!). At 2:00, Laura and Nicole headed back to their hosts, and Jason and I hopped on a bus to Kudus. Once again, Jason's host sister came to my rescue in the food department, and brought me buffalo satay (a Kudus specialty, and probably one of the most delicious types of satay) and rice, as well as dessert, snacks, and drinks. It was so incredibly generous! I also had an awesome experience when I went down to the hospital bakery, which is owned by Jason's host mom, and was informed that everything I wanted to buy was free, because I am a friend of the family. We spent the evening talking and being interrupted by random nurses and doctors (one of whom tried to practice her English on me, and wound up thinking that I told her I loved her, to which she eagerly responded "I love you too!" whilst patting me on the knee), and then tried to sleep. It's now 8:44 in the morning, and I'm looking more disheveled and sleep deprived than my friend who is actually sick!

Last night, the SALTers host dad came to visit, and in that time, I was called fat yet again.This has been an ongoing issue since our arrival, and is something that MCC told us about. While it is nice to know that it is a cultural thing and not something that I should take personally, I cannot help but feel incredibly offended whenever someone says, "Oh! Kamu besar!" (Oh, you're big!) or, "You are more fat than she is." or "Are you getting fatter or thinner?" (I got that question two days ago, and am still confused as to why it was asked). There is an incredibly big focus on body types here, but what I am unsure of is why it has to be verbalized. I was first told that being called fat is a compliment, but upon meeting many girls here who are on diets because they want to be thinner, I have learned that it is not nearly as much a compliment as I originally believed (especially coming from people of this generation). I think that this issue will remain a mystery to me- why they say it, and what good they expect it will bring by saying it- but one good thing that has come of it is the birth of the idea to create a "YALTer Survival Guide", from YALTers to future YALTers, including our feelings at the beginning of the year, how we're coping with some of the cultural differences, things that we've done that have been effective or ineffective in our positions, funny cultural blunders, and reassurances about being able to deal with the difficulties that will come their way! (I've claimed the "How to Survive Being Called Fat" section, though other YALTers are welcome to give their input on that too). MCC does a really good job of relaying feelings of past YALTers to us, but so often I've wished I could just hear straight from them how they deal with things. We're going to try to make this "survival guide" as a group, since all of us have very different experiences and all have valuable input. It's a fun focus to work at throughout the year, and is something that keeps our group connected despite the geographical divides.

Anyways, I'll let you go before this post gets any longer. Below are a whole mix of pictures. Since life is becoming just... well, life, I haven't really been taking too many. let me know if there is anything you're particularly curious about seeing pictures of, and I will do my best to get pictures up of those things!

Have a great day!
Love,
Ellery