Happy long weekend Monday to my Canadian friends and family! I hope you've had a chance, or will have a chance, to catch some fireworks and other May Long Weekend festivities! To those of you in the Niagara region, I do hope that someone attended the Virgil Stampede, and rode the Zipper on my behalf. (Austin? I leave that job in your hands.)
As I was riding the bus today, I watched a woman walk by with a curved machete in hand. In my mind, I transported that same woman onto good ol' Mississauga Street in my hometown in Canada, and pictured her walking towards the plaza with her machete in tow. For some reason, I just don't think that machete would go over very well. It made me chuckle a little to contemplate yet again, how different our perceptions of "normal" are. Woman with a machete? Nothing weird about that! Chickens hanging in bunches from the back of a motorcycle? No problem! Buses that keep moving as you get on and off? Of course! A white woman walking down the street? Ooooo, everyone stop and stare, because that is weird.
I got away with a pretty easy week this past week, what with the five day holiday, beginning last Thursday. I was at school from Monday through Wednesday, engaging in my typical weekly routine. Gloria Patri was canceled on Wednesday, but my host sister invited me to join her and her friends to see a movie and grab dinner, so I was glad to be able to do that.
Thursday morning was church, an Ascension Day service. For some reason, Ascension Day is a national holiday (here in a primarily Muslim country... I feel as though we're being gypped over there in Canada), and is also a cause for (another) church service. We headed there at the usual time of 7:30 AM, and were there until about 10:30. From church, my host family and I headed off to Kudus, stopping for some oleh-oleh (food-based souvenirs) for those we were going to visit. Oleh-oleh is a BIG DEAL here, something I learned the hard way upon my return from my week in Gili Trawangan. Rather than being asked how the trip was, many people asked me, "Di mana oleh-oleh?" (Where are the souvenirs?) I hadn't really brought anything back for people, aside from my host family, and that left a lot (a LOT) of people quite disappointed. I've been closely observing the oleh-oleh tradition over the past few weeks, and have noticed that every single time someone goes to another city, even just for an afternoon, they bring back oleh-oleh for others, even those they aren't necessarily closely connected with. I guess that was expected of me, and by many people (even those I don't know all that well), since I'm well-known by a lot of people here. Awkward as it was, it was certainly a very tangible learning experience in cultural differences and expectations! Anyways, from the oleh-oleh store, we headed to Kudus, where we spent time with both Pak Har's and Ibu Vonny's families. My host father, the master orchestrator of surprises and get-togethers, worked hard to make it possible for me to see Jason during our visit. While it didn't happen exactly as anticipated, Jason and I wound up seeing each other by fluke, as we both ended up at the same restaurant in the mountains outside the city of Kudus, for lunch. What the odds of that were, I'm not sure. Why it didn't surprise me in the slightest, is also a mystery to me.
On Friday, I was picked up by my principal at 8AM to do some "jalan-jalan"ing (sightseeing) around Semarang. She had heard that I had not yet been to Lawang Sewu, and since that is just about the only tourist site here in Semarang (unless you count the Paragon Mall, which really actually is quite something), she felt it necessary that I see it before I leave. For those of you interested in history (thinking of you, Grandpa, Uncle Vic, and Andrew), Lawang Sewu (Javanese for "Thousand Doors", named because the number of doors within the complex total more than one thousand) was built for use by the Dutch in the early 1900's, as part of their railway system. It was taken over by the Japanese in 1942, and the basement of one of the buildings was turned into a prison, where several people were executed. The Dutch took it back during the Battle of Semarang in 1945, and the Indonesian Army claimed it after the war, where it was later returned to the national railway company. (Thank you, Wikipedia!) It is only in the last few years that the place has become a tourist attraction, though many are too scared to visit it based upon rumours of it being haunted (such rumours being perpetuated by the top-quality Indo horror film entitled Lawang Sewu: Kuntilanak's Vengeance). Anyways, we toured this new-found tourist site, which is still undergoing massive restoration efforts, and then headed over to the oldest church in Semarang, conveniently located in the part of the city called "Old Semarang City." The church is another remnant of the days of the Dutch, and it features a beautiful old pipe organ, and original stained glass windows. Here, however, I found myself to be more of a tourist attraction than the church, as people stopped me several times for pictures, and for an interview (both common occurrences). From the church, we made our way to the nearby Pasar Johar, whose claim to fame is that it was once the biggest market in Southeast Asia. I believe it too- the place is HUGE! I've been there once before, but saw none of the same places this time that I saw last time. Pasar Johar is about as traditional as markets come, with narrow maze-like passageways, surprise staircases, and just about every item for sale that a person could possibly think of. The one thing it lacks- and this is key- is people. Pasar Johar has been declining in popularity, as the younger generation is favouring clean, air conditioned malls and supermarkets over the traditional market. It kind of makes me sad to think of all of these local vendors who must really struggle to make a living as their stalls receive less and less customers. They can offer lower prices, but they cannot offer the modern comforts, and it seems that people are willing to pay the extra cost to shop with ease. I can understand why the shift is taking place- in fact, I'm a part of the shift that's taking place- but it's too bad that so many people lack the business they once had. After the market (where my principal bought some ikan asin, or salty fish), we headed out for Gulai Kepala Ikan, essentially fish head soup. I admit that I was quite leery of this little delicacy, but remembering the promise I made myself to say yes to new opportunities, I selected one of the varieties, and sipped my iced tea whilst nervously anticipating the arrival of said soup. Within 10 minutes, I found myself staring at what was indeed the head of some sort of fish, floating in a red broth with chiles and leaves. I took my first tentative spoonful, my principal eying me from across the table. Thoughts on the fish head soup? Absolutely delicious. It may even make the Top 5 List of Favourite Indo Foods. It was just awesome! I've had quite a bit of experience with picking fish meat right from the bone, so this really wasn't all that different, except that this fish still had the scales on it (it took forever to eat, since half the experience is pulling scales out of your mouth), and rather than picking the meat off the body, I was picking it out of the skull. I figured I'd go all the way, and ate the lips and eye too, which I'm sorry to say was rather anticlimactic- just more small pieces of meat. It was a great suggestion on part of my principal, and I was glad to add that on to my list of new experiences here in the Indo.
Riki came over late on Friday afternoon, just as I was finishing a MUCH-needed room cleaning. She slept over on Friday night, and on Saturday morning, we headed to Salatiga. I had arranged to spend the weekend at Pak Lilik and Ibu Christin's place, and so, after eating lunch with those who were in Salatiga, I headed to my former host family's house for the night. We had rendang for dinner, another one of my favourite Indo foods, and then I played with the boys until bed time. I opted out of church on Sunday morning (a much needed break- church here is nothing like church at home, and I have to say, I'm getting a bit drained), and woke up late to Pak Lilik frying pancakes for breakfast. Talk about a pleasant Sunday morning!! After breakfast, I went over to Dan and Jeanne's, where I met Riki, Nicole, Nancy, and Laura- all the girls except for Lweendo were in Salatiga for the weekend! We had just the most relaxing day ever, hanging out together in the huge closed-in porch, and then beginning the endeavour that had brought us all together in the first place- roll kuchen! For my non-Mennonite friends, roll kuchen is a Russian Menno food. It's probably the most basic of all the Mennonite foods I know, as it is simply fried dough. Simple as it is, however, the debates in the kitchen over how to prepare, fry, and serve the roll kuchen, would have made anyone think that roll kuchen is a vastly complex dish. Some of us used baking powder in our recipes, some didn't. Some used cream, some used oil. Some grew up with the fancy, twisted roll kuchen. Others grew up with the simple slit in the middle. Some remember them being small, some remember them big. Some of us eat them with watermelon, others had never heard of this tradition (shame on you, Riki!!! ;) ). Some of us have grown up eating roll kuchen as a side dish/in addition to meat. Others thought that this was preposterous. Some of us have eaten them topped with jam, others with sugar, and others with syrup. When it came down to it, we made a recipe with oil and baking powder, prepared both shapes, and opted for a meatless meal, but included LOTS of watermelon, and toppings to satisfy everyone's traditions. We slightly overestimated the quantity we'd need, and quintupled the recipe, leaving us with three extra platters that required inviting back-up consumers to plow through them. They were nothing like my Grandma's roll kuchen (think more along the lines of a thin, fried biscuit), but the first-time consumers (such as Paul, who introduced them to his friends as "strauss-heiffen", remembering that they were called something German-sounding, but forgetting the real name) were none-the-wiser, and everyone really enjoyed them. Sushant and Priti even came from Solo to attend the gathering. It really felt like a Sunday evening at home, with good friends and good food, and a beautiful home to enjoy it in.
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| With Bu Yanti, my principal, at Lawang Sewu (House of One Thousand Doors) |
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| Surrounded by all kinds of "Ikan Asin" (Salty Fish) at Pasar Johar, the local traditional market |
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| And in keeping with the fish theme, here we have the Gulai Kepala Ikan- Fish Head Soup |
I headed back to Semarang, arriving just after 5PM, and am now back here in my room. Tonight consists of prep for classes, as tomorrow marks the beginning of one of the last "normal" weeks here in the Indo. The Gloria Patri Learning Centre ends on May 30th, and the TK school year comes to a close on June 15th. I watched all my TK-B kiddies get their "grad" photos taken (complete with little robes and graduation hats- I've never seen anything as cute as that!!), and a tear came to my eye as I thought of hugging them all good-bye on their last day. They're an awesome group of kiddies, and I'll really miss them when they graduate.
Anyways, I'll let you get back to enjoying this holiday Monday! Have a great day, everyone!!
Lots of love,
Ellery
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