She is so generous that it almost kills me. But don't be mistaken, she's a little firecracker. Dressed in traditional Arab attire, she's 100 lbs soaking wet and rides her motorbike like a Harley Davidson Queen on fire. I've seen so much of this city from the back of motorbikes these last few days. And I have to say, I LOVE traveling with the wind whipping my hair and the locals starring at the white lady dwarfing her drivers. Everyone here is tiny. But strong. Iis is a smart, capable, truly lovely person. I feel very lucky to be in her care (until I'm on my own two feet).
So, observations. Let's start with food: if you order "American" you get the simplest version possible. The other night I went to a restaurant and asked for a cheeseburger (I was not feeling adventurous at the time as my stomach was still suffering from what I call the "small knives"--cramps that feel like little amoebas are eating at your insides) and that's what I got. On the square plate they brought out sat a cheeseburger. Alone. Lonely, crying for a side dish. No french fries, salads, or cole slaw here. Just the burger.
Yesterday I was in my office, sitting at my desk, starving (people are fasting all around me, so the fact that the American needs to be fed can sometimes be overlooked), and my wonderful Hindu co-worker offered me crackers to snack on. Wonderful! I pictured round, supple Ritz crackers dancing in my head, loaded with peanut butter. Silly me. She was proud to present me banana/cheese crackers instead. The "cheese" was in the middle, the wafer was banana flavored. I declined and had an apple instead.
Last night I went out for "real" Indonesian food and was pleasantly surprised at what was probably the most delicious thing I have had here yet. Don't have any clue how to spell it, but it was essentially noodles with lightly shredded chicken, scallions, and onions, sitting on a bed of greens. Then a separate, smaller bowl was brought to me containing the broth and two dumplings. I poured that into my noodle concoction and heaven arrived in my mouth. Not too spicy, hardy, and chock full of flavor. To drink was coconut/orange juice with chunks of "young" coconut swimming in the glass. They give you a spoon to scoop that into your mouth. The best part, I left with nothing chewing at the inside of my stomach. And I was brought home on the back of a bike. So. Much. Fun.
So, they have McDonald's here. D-n-D is here. KFC is here. The catch: "McDs" delivers. 24 hours a day. For only $1 you can have them bring a big mac to your house. The novelty.
Although I'm on the island of Java, no one drinks regular coffee (kopi) here. They all drink instant. I finally asked Wayan (my Hindu/Balinese friend) why this was the case last night. She said that regular coffee keeps you awake (really?? no one told me!) and it's hard on people's hearts here. So they prefer the weaker instant brands. Ah ha! Finally cracking the culture codes. Sandra: remember how you said you'd send me Metropolis coffee? I'd give you my first born child for some real java....mailing address arriving soon in your inbox!
Eggs are served with hot sauce here. My breakfast at the guest house usually consists of a tiny omelet (two eggs max), some toast with butter (only white here...ick), and a little saucer with one half ketsup, and one half hot sauce. Not bad. My palette is getting used to strange fair...
In addition to the fast food chains listed above, Pizza Hut also exists on the other side of the world...but the Indo version. Which is kind of like the British, Australian version. I had to try it, so I ordered a stuffed crust personal pizza (the size of a regular American omelet) with tuna and sweet corn on top. It was delicious. To drink, an avocado smoothie. Michal, I finally understand the obsession. It was amazing!
No one tips here. Waiters, that is. You DO, however, tip the man sitting in all the parking lots for the honor of stowing your bike. Not to worry, the "tip" is the equivalent to 10 cents.
There is a "monkey park" in Malang. The word for monkey is "monyet", or "kera". They are the smallish kind, and I cannot wait to see them. We passed this monkey park on the way into town coming from the airport on Wednesday. I squealed and jumped up and down in the back seat when I realized what it was, and my counterpart smiled at me, which happens a lot. She must think I'm a trip. My big barrel laugh that you all know (and love) is culturally quite shocking. Women cover their mouths when they laugh over here, or close them altogether. I think it's a shame. But it's the norm.
Another cultural thing I'm noticing that would simply not fly in good old America is the covering up of men who make "mistakes". I'm around quite a few strong women here, and there is one man in particular (who shall remain nameless) who is a coworker of mine, that seems to have issues with the competence and adaptability of his female counterparts. The reason I'm staying in guest housing and not in a real house is his fault. He didn't do his job before I arrived, thus, my counterpart, the amazing Iis, found me something else within a day. And because he then looked stupid in front of her hard work and quick thinking, he retaliated with lies and purposeful miscommunication that sent her to the Dean's office and brought tears to her eyes. During Ramadan, one not only fasts. One cannot cry. One must obstain from quite a lot, apparently. And this...man...made her cry. Needless to say I hope karma kicks him where it counts. I'm not a fan of watching men mistreat women, no matter what form that takes, but here, instead of telling him off, Iis had to apologize to him, and stick up for him, make excuses for his behavior, etc. It was terrible to watch.
And finally, there are roosters in cages here, waking us all up in the morning (with the prayers and motorbikes of course). They are apparently quite rare and endangered, so the University has various places all around campus where roosters pace, back and forth, crowing and strutting, on display. The Recktor's "favorite" rooster is right outside my guest house. I have not introduced myself, as it's hard for me to observe any creature in a cage. It kills me. There is a Tennessee Williams quote about the wild left in cages (it's an Angelina Jolie tattoo...you can look it up) that comes to mind whenever I see anything behind bars. I asked Iis what would happen if they let him go free. She said someone would sell him, as he's worth quite a lot of money. Sigh.
That's it for today. Except for the purple elephant stirrer. I just got a coffee, which is really instant coffee mixed with milk and frankly tastes disgusting, delivered to my table. No lie, there is a purple plastic elephant head sticking out of it, used to stir up the milk with the instant. I think I'll keep the elephant and leave the drink. Bye for now.
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