Experiencing True Indonesian Culture

Dear Friend,

What a great week I have had. As you might know, I just had a 12 day break and school started up this past Tuesday. I didn't do much over vacation, just relaxed. My holiday project was sewing a purse with traditional Indonesian material (Batik). This project would be fairly easy if I had a sewing machine and a nearby fabric store. Unfortunately I had neither of those. I needed an inside lining for my purse and decided to be innovative. I found a yellow button down shirt that I never wore, and decided to use that. I spent almost a whole day taking it apart with a seam ripper, trying to save every inch of material I could. Sewing by hand takes a LONG time! I felt so old-school though, thinking back to Jane Austen and their sewing projects.

Ironically, my first day back to school felt like my one day of vacation. After school I had basketball practice. After basketball practice one of the PE teachers was giving me a ride home. After commenting that he and Ms. Cynthia, the other PE teacher, were going to check out some fitness centers, he wondered if I wanted to go too. I figured it would be a 30 minute outing and since I just spent 12 days alone on vacation, I thought it would be good to hang out with people... so I said yes.

Well, the first fitness center was about 30 minutes away!!! It was really fun though. Here I am sitting on the back of a motorcycle, riding through the streets (some were dirt roads), with the hustle and bustle of everyone else leaving work and going home. It was so fun. I was able to see the side stores closer than when I am in a bus driving by. I always feel so separate from the street and culture when I drive by in a big bus looking out of a window. On the motorcycle, with the air blowing in my face, I felt closer to the every day life of that area.

The area I live in is very green and clean; paved roads, nice sidewalks, big houses etc. The area we drove through was more poor, dirt roads, cheap stores, trash thrown on the sides and even goats eating on the side of the street. I was happy to see the "real Indonesia."

After checking out two fitness centers it was around 6 pm and my stomach was making some noises. Ms. Cynthia asked if I was hungry. "I can always eat," I replied. They decided to take me to a traditional Javanese place. "You have to sit on the ground though," they said apprehensively. "Cool!" I enthusiastically replied.

The 'restaurant' was a little outdoor place you walk up to. First you get your plate of rice and toppings, then you choose the different skewered chicken parts you would like to eat. Yes, PARTS of chicken. They were on little wooden skewers and all had this same sweet sort of flavor to them. Looking at the assortment of food I could choose a skewer with two chicken feet, another skewer with a chicken head, one came with four livers, another with three little eggs, there was even one with chicken intestines. Instead of tables, we sat on little mats in a parking lot like area. I ate a chicken foot for the first time, it was crunchy, had a little layer of meat and a thinker layer of skin. I also ate a liver, a little egg, and a few intestines (very chewy). I didn't eat the chicken head though, I told them, "Maybe next time." I was offered the chicken brain after my friend ate the head though, I figured I might as well try it, so I ate a little white chicken brain. It was a little pasty feeling. Our beverage for the evening was warm milk with a chunk of ginger root placed inside. It was surprisingly yummy. Indonesian food is spicy so my lips were burning after eating.

When I was little I used to always eat with my hands. My parents would continually comment that I was going to grow up and live in Sri Lanka where it is okay to eat with your hands. Well, I'm not in Sri Lanka, but here in Indonesia we sometimes eat with our hands too. During dinner after taking a few bites of rice with a spoon the PE teachers look at me and mention, "You know, traditionally we eat with our hands." To their surprise, I gladly ate the rest of my dinner with my hands. The  Indonesians watching from the background were amazed that I was eating everything. They would ask my friends in Bahsa Indonesian, "Does she like the food?" My friends were amazed too, a "bule" (technical translation is albino, but causally just means foreigner) eating their food, with her hands, on the ground and enjoying it. I like trying to blend into the culture... even though I will always stand out being a white skinned tall girl with light brown hair.

The store owner joined us on the mat for a friendly conversation. He kept asking if I liked the food. I eventually told him that I really did, and I would even bring my parents to eat there when they come to Indonesia. My friend had to translate for us the whole time. It was all very amusing. This dinner had such a relaxed feeling to it, I kept thinking to myself, "This is what I didn't do over vacation, but what you are supposed to do."

All in all a fun spontaneous evening.

Hope life on your side of the world is going splendiferously!

Your friend,
Rebekah