Impressions

My first week is over and I can’t believe it’s only been that long. I’ve settled in pretty easily and, since culture shock doesn’t really start to kick in until weeks six or seven, I’m still starry eyed. My housemates are great so far. In addition to being patiently willing to answer my questions about everything from where to get soap to where to vacation, they are also all bright, engaging, and fun. My bosses are also great so far. There is a system at my school that has been in place for years. It makes teaching, or at least planning, very easy. The pacing is set out for me. The goals of each lesson—in terms of vocabulary, grammar, speaking, listening, and writing—are set out for me. There is loads of supplementary information available that is designed to go with each course. And, I am welcome to use my own supplementary material whenever I would like. My students are adorable. I have, so far, one group of mostly 9 year olds and one group of 10 to 12 year olds.

There are definitely a few things that have stood out for me this week.

Indonesians like to be helpful: From the security guards concerned that I was caught in the rain to the twelve saleswomen who try to help me every time I enter a store at the mall, they want to know what I need and they want to help me get it. I can see it getting old or feeling overbearing, but it is definitely a cultural trait, so I’m going to try to keep smiling and roll with it. Besides, when I actually do need help, it’s fantastic. For example, in an angkot when I thought I’d missed my stop, I said the name of my neighborhood like a question and all three of the women I was riding with jumped into action. One talked to the driver and told him to pull over and the other two used hand motions to show me how to walk back to my neighborhood.

There is very little that I am used to that I won’t be able to find a little piece of in Jakarta: There might be a specific item that I start to miss or crave but for the most part, when I feel homesick, I’ll be able to find some comfort. There are American brands of food and chains of restaurants. There is bread and there is cheese (yay!). There is liquor and there is wine, although both are quite expensive and I’ll have to get used to beer again if I plan to drink regularly. There are even more personal hygiene items than I would find in a Walgreens. There are air-conditioned taxis with comfortable seats—for when I am too hot or tired or laden down with shopping bags to ride in an angkot. Kelapa Gading is hot and sticky on the outside, but cool and lush on the inside.

Mosquitoes are not my friends: They are stealth little bastards that bite me all day and all night long. Mostly they attack my feet because I wear long pants and, at night, long sleeves. Yes, I know it’s hot, but staying covered is a defense against the buggers. I saw my first cockroach yesterday. It was in our utility room, which is the only thing I can think of to call what I think would be the maid’s room if our maid lived in (She comes twice a week to do laundry). We have giant black ants that scurry here there occasionally and various other bugs that apparently come up through the drains in the bathroom. I haven’t yet had the pleasure. We also have a gecko that roams around, hopefully eating all of the above. I saw him once and he’s very cute. I have a surprisingly laissez-faire attitude toward the crawly inhabitants of the house. Except for the mosquitoes. I wish the mosquitoes horrible, torturous deaths.

Traffic is insane: Added to the confusion of driving on the left side of the road is the sheer volume of traffic. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, and bicycles (with seriously risk-taking riders) all drive alarmingly close to one another, creating five lanes out of three and weaving back and forth constantly. I honestly don’t know how it works out, but somehow it does. I can say with absolute certainty that I will never drive in Jakarta. Crossing the street is more than enough danger for me.

Things move slowly: With the exception of traffic, which seems to be in a hurry no matter in what country I find myself, things move at a leisurely pace here. Even when I think I’m strolling, I’m still passing by other pedestrians and I have yet to be passed. Probably it’s the heat. The slower you can move here, the less sweaty you will be. When I’m on my way somewhere, I can’t really help but be deliberate. It’s ingrained. But when I have nowhere in particular to be, I am trying my best to learn to meander.

By Indonesian standards, I am making a ridiculous amount of money: By American standards, my monthly salary is a pittance. By Indonesian standards, however, many of the people around me are making the equivalent of a dollar or two a day while I’m making almost 25 times that. It’s shameful. It’s very strange for me to have a maid. I haven’t decided whether I’ll have her wash my clothes yet. But it’s nice that she’ll take them off the drying line, iron them, and fold them neatly into a basket. We also have a rotation of sort-of housekeepers who work for the school. They come by the house Monday through Thursday to take out the trash, do the dishes, and clean the floors. It feels a little uncomfortable to me at the moment, but they are all paid by the school. It’s probably not a great wage, but maybe it’s more than they could make doing something else.

It rains a lot: October through April is the rainy season in Indonesia and so far it has rained every day. But it doesn’t rain all day. It seems to rain more in the morning or evening, leaving the middle part of the day available for moving about. This is convenient for me since I go to work in the middle part of the day. I’d much rather get to school relatively dry (except for the sweat) and then come home in the rain.

Last night, starting at about five, we had the heaviest rainstorm I’ve seen. By seven the streets were flooded and it rained all night. Unfortunately, this flood has coincided with my running out of groceries. So, this morning, I’ll have to pull on my Wellies and go wading to the store. Wish me luck!