Sunday, May 30, 2010

Take me to your weirless rooter


Over this first full weekend back in Jak-town, honey pie and I have been searching for three things; a wireless router for un-tethered Internet access, an oven thermometer, and several clocks. This sounds like an odd coupling of things, but let me explain.

At the apartment, we have been using a Ethernet cable to plug in to a phone jack to access the Internet. This works well and isn't a problem unless both of us want to use the Internet at the same time and/or don't mind always having to be positioned close to a phone jack. Therefore, we decided to buy a wireless Internet router to fulfil the dream of freedom. So, asking Akil to drive us around from place to place on Saturday, we found "living the dream" wasn't as easy as we thought it would be. The first place we went, Glodock Electronics, seemed like the most likely place to start. Glodock is a bit like entering a three story cornucopia. It is crammed full of all kinds of things. Phones, cameras, bullhorns, tiny drink umbrellas, craft making items, transformers, cooking utensils, cooking appliances, refrigerators, air conditioning units, cables, plugs, adaptors, USB thumb drives, notepads, etc. All of this delight is packed in a store with aisles barely one bule wide and it is un-air conditioned. Well, that is not totally accurate. On the third floor, they sell AC units. They have one unit on display blasting out cold air. It is nice to go up there and stand in front of it until you get cooled off and then you come back down and continue your explorations.

Before we left the apartment Saturday morning, I went to Google Translator and found out how to ask for said wireless router in Bahasa Indonesia. The audio application told me it is pronounced "weirless rooter." I am spelling this phonetically so you can join in the fun. This wouldn't be nearly as amusing if it weren't for the fact that we had a dog who's nickname was Rooter. Sometimes Rooter Tooter on more fragrant occasions. With that correlation, it made it easy to remember the pronunciation.

Once in Glodock, we asked the young man at the front for weirless rooters. He looked at me as if I had just landed from another planet. Hmmmm. Guess I am kind of from another world so it wasn't too undeserved. I say it again, and he still looks at me. I then say wireless router. He says "Oh, wireless router!", and directs me to a stack of boxes containing wireless routers. So much for the translation preparations. They carried only one type of router and they were not the brand I wanted. Rats! Defeat number one for the day. With all the abundance of Glodock around us, we decided to look for an oven thermometer and the much needed clock.

The meager assortment of clocks available were an odd lot. Mostly analog varieties with surprisingly large price tags. These were Target or drugstore level clocks. No aspersions here, just not high end time pieces to warrant the 800,000.00 rupiah they wanted for them. To help you with the monetary conversion, that is a little less than $80.00 US. The cheapest thing we found was a very small clock for about 450,000 rupiah. We thought about it and decided to leave it and see if we could find one somewhere else. Rats again. Defeat number two.

We wander around the store still in search of an oven thermometer. We finally ask if they sold thermometers. Foreign planet looks again. We start saying things like temperature, oven, hot, cold, cooking. Anything to find a word to give the young woman a clue. I finally said therm-O-meter. She seemed to get it and lead us to a section with cooking utensils and sure enough there were meat thermometers, refrigerator thermometers, outdoor thermometers but no oven thermometers.

The reason we are looking for an oven thermometer is that the dial on the oven in the apartment and at the house, we are still trying to move in to, have little pictures but no numbers to indicate the temperature. Perhaps if I were a better cook, I could tell by sticking my hand in the oven if it is the correct temperature to roast, bake or braise whatever I want. I am not that good. I need numbers.

Defeated for the third time, we decided the three strike rule was in effect and we left Glodock for greener pastures. Once again in the car with Akil, we head for the big Ace Hardware located on the second floor of Pondok Indah Mall I (there is a Pondok Indah Mall II right across the street). The locals call it PIM 1 or PIM 2 since it is kind of a mouth full and it also helps you know which side of the street to park.

Once in the Ace Hardware, we asked a shy young woman about wireless routers. Not working. We tried weirless rooter. Not working. Here we go again throwing out clues. Internet, computer, blah, blah, blah. She confers with someone and leads us past a display of at least 50 ironing boards to an aisle where there are cables and jacks to plug in to the phone jack. This was not at all going to help with our Internet needs. Since ironing is an obsession here, along with plastic bags and zeros, we would have had a much easier time getting help with that kind of purchase than high tech Internet stuff. We left Ace and went to several other electronic oriented stores and totally struck out. At this point we decided to call it a day and try again on Sunday.

10AM Sunday morning.... Akil picks us up and we head for a different mall in search of the same three items that we looked for on Saturday. We go to the store from which I purchased my much beloved cell phones that I spoke of in one of my first posts. We find the computer area and ask a techno-savvy looking young man for wireless routers. Hmmmm. OK, weirless rooters. BINGO! He understands and repeats, "rooter." He leads us to a display and unfortunately, they are the same exact brand as the ones at Glodock. After much discussion with my honey pie, we decide to buy one and give it a go.

Feeling more confident, we decided to pursue a clock and an oven thermometer. We go to a high end kitchen store. No luck. I decided to go to a store called Debenham's. It is kind of like a British Macy's. We head for the cookware section, and happen to pass by a clock display. Holy Toledo. Still seeing really high prices on really cheap merchandise. I am now discovering why it is standard operating procedure for Indonesians to always be late by at least 30 minutes to an hour for any appointment you make with them. The bloody clocks are so expensive here no one will buy them or can afford them! Therefore, the majority of the population is using the call to prayer (which happens five times a day)to set their schedule it would seem.

Blast! No clock purchase again today. Will have to confer with other expats to see where to find something reasonably priced. I guess I haven't mentioned that there are no clocks in the apartment. No clock on the stove in the kitchen. No clock on the wall in the living or dining area. Therefore, unless you are wearing a watch, have your cell phone in your pocket, or go look at one of the two land line phones in the apartment you don't know what time it is.

Disappointed, we move on to the cooking section of Debenham's. We rummage around a bit and there, shining in the artificial light are three oven thermometers. S-U-C-C-E-S-S! I almost bought two of them because they were so difficult to find. Hubby convinced me one was enough and I happily slapped my 100,000 rupiah note, and some change, on the check-out counter and walked away a satisfied customer.

This whole episode is a reminder of how much more I have to learn about being an expat and adjust accordingly. How much I took for grated familiar things like a light on my oven to tell me it is hot enough to put a cake pan inside, or that cheap clocks are actually priced accordingly in most stores where I am from, and a rooter is a fond memory of a dog who enriched our lives many years ago.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Ibu's back in town


Over the past couple of weeks, we have been to the US and back again. In the four months that I have been here, this is the first time I have made it out of the city of Jakarta. It sounds odd, but life can get complicated with this kind of a move.

There are many routes that one can take to get between the US and Indonesia. As you may remember, the initial trip out was Houston to Moscow to Singapore and then Jakarta. This trip was Jakarta to Singapore, to Hong Kong, to San Francisco, to Houston and then a drive to Sherman, TX. Whew!

We saw Hong Kong only briefly out the window, but it looks like a city that could be interesting to visit. Since I was in the center seating area of the plane, I couldn't really get a good look. I did see mountains and boats in what I assume is Hong Kong harbor. I took snapshots of the airport and the various views of the planes and such. Also on this trip, we had more time to experience the fabulous airport in Singapore. The terminal we were in had orchids everywhere. There was also a sunflower garden up a couple of levels from where we were walking to catch our connecting flight.

There is major shopping to be had in all of the airports we passed through. Pretty unbelievable the high end stores there. I felt more like I was in a mall than an airport at times. In one of the other terminals in Singapore, they supposedly have an outstanding butterfly room. Not sure what the proper name for that is, but I have no doubt that is is beautiful as the Singaporians seem to do it up right.

Before leaving Jakarta, my brother, David, made a suggestion that I should collect coins from the various countries that I fly through or visit and make a charm bracelet out of them. I think that is a stunning idea. So, while in Hong Kong I exchanged $5.00US and got some very colorful paper money and some cool coins. Thanks for the great suggestion David.

I really wasn't sure how I was going to feel touching down on US soil after my four month long sleep-over in Indonesia. I have to say, it felt really great to land in a place where you know how the money works, what is on the menu, people drive on the right side of the road and folks say ya'll. With that said, we did experience a tiny little bit of reverse culture shock while we were in Texas.

Living in a land where 88% of the population practice Islam, most woman are pretty covered up. We were a bit taken aback by all the cleavage and leg we saw just walking through the US airports. Here, there are short skirts on some of the young Indonesian woman working hard to attract a bule husband. But, it is a decided minority. Heck, you hardly see sleeveless blouses here for that matter. I've never been overly prudish about these things. It just caught me by surprise that in such a brief time shorts and tank tops would look strange to me. After a few days of getting re-acclimated, it looked pretty USish and I didn't stare in disbelief.

Since we haven't driven in four months, my local honey was worried that he would feel uncomfortable once behind the wheel. Well, it was not a problem at all. Sweetie pie got behind the wheel of our truck and motored us to all of our destinations with no problem. I, on the other hand, never did drive while I was home. I am now being accused of being a diva that will require someone to chauffeur me everywhere once we return to our native land on a permanent basis. Not so sure of that, but I have found it is kind of nice to not have to think too much about what the traffic is doing and being able to check out the action around me, roll down the window and poke the camera out for a quick picture, text message or just zone out until it is time to get out of the car.

The reason for our trip to the US was to share in the celebration of college graduation with our son. After four years, lots of bucks, and lots of growing pains (for all of us) we are the proud parents of a college graduate. It was a great day and we are all shocked that it really did seem to happen so quickly. Four years really flew by. I am in the "Holy cow. My son is all grown up." phase. I know we have other milestones to cross with him, but this is a biggie.

Having to leave him and fly back to a distant land was as difficult as the last time we did it. Not sure that will ever go away. A sobbing mom in the car at 5:30AM is a gruesome sight. But after an hour or so, I regained my composure and the promise of breakfast at the Waffle House made me feel better.

The last paragraph reminded me of a couple of other things that we experienced on our return visit. Since the days are pretty close to being 12 hours long all the time(you remember that is why my blog is named It's always a 12 hour day), you kind of forget that it is almost summer in other parts of the world and the days are getting longer. On one of the first nights in the US, we had dinner with friends and I looked at my watch and couldn't believe it was almost 8pm and it was still light! Who would have thought this would be such a marvel? Coming back to a place that is familiar but getting to rediscover things that have been so common place but are now so novel is a wonderful experience. It is like you've never seen this before and it is so marvelous but somehow so familiar. Almost the feel of waking from a long sleep and seeing the world with rested eyes.

The other thing is I can't believe how much bacon we tried to consume. Normally, we eat bacon only occasionally at our house. But for some reason we had to have it while we were home on this visit. I am sure it is one of those psychological things about desperately wanting something that you can't have. Please, no psych analysis in the comments about this post.

I am not sure I have discussed the most prevalent kind of bacon that is served in Indonesia. It is made from beef. Beef bacon is very low on my list of products that I ever want to consume again. It is on the list with octopus balls that I see advertised on a restaurant banner hanging in the mall(no comments again please) and the chicken feet that I see wrapped up in the much beloved plastic at the grocery. It is like someone couldn't decide what they wanted this poor piece of beef to be. It is like beef jerky gone horribly wrong. Therefore, we did indulge in a lot of pork products while we were home. It was delicious. However, I hope it will not become a habit on each return visit as my cardiologist will have a cow, and that would just lead to more beef bacon.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Suka duka happens


Life continues to be full of surprises here in Jakarta. It seems at about four week intervals I am surprised at how far I have come, the new things I am accomplishing or trying to figure out how to deal with some new aspect of life that I have to navigate just by virtue being an expat.

First, I guess I should explain what suka duka means. Suka duka is basically good and bad. You know, ups and downs. I think suka duka is much more fun to say than ups and downs so I will be using that phrase whenever I can in a conversation. Maaf to those who live in Jakarta because I am sure I will wear it out. Another couple of new fun words are ibu and pak. I am called ibu (i sounds like an e so it is e-boo). Sometimes, they seem to shorten it a bit and it sounds like they are just saying boo. What makes this amusing is that we used to use the word boo with our son when he was just a little guy. So it makes me smile to be called this. Now, my honey lamb is called bapak or pak. That is basically sir. Pak carries a lot more weight than ibu in this culture. When he starts to act a little uppity, I tell him he is acting like a pak-head and to cut it out. So, there is your Bahasa Indonesia lesson for the day. Now, back to the story of happenings here.

This past Saturday, we were supposed to meet the realtor and the man who is going to make draperies for the house we will be moving in to at the end of May. However, that is not exactly how it played out. We arrived at the house and the realtor was waiting for us. So far, so good. As we waited for the drapery man, the realtor informed me that the landlord's wife would be coming by and along with her would be the landlord's mother. "Mom" is currently residing in Florida but is back in Jakarta for a visit. Hmmm. Me thinks this is a test.

The drapery guy arrives, and we discuss, through the help of the realtor, what things need to be made. In the middle of all of this, the landlord's wife arrives. She is alone. We talk of the things that they have done and discuss the things that still need to be addressed. So far, so good.

As we are finishing up with the drapery fellow, the landlord's mother arrives. With her is one of the landlord's brothers and the landlord's future sister-in-law. So at this point there are now 8 of us standing in the living area exchanging pleasantries, except for the drapery guru who didn't speak a lot of English and probably didn't care if we impressed "Mom" or not. As I had suspected, this was indeed the final approval needed for the completion of this rental agreement to go through. Everyone seemed to be watching to see what the Grand Ibu's reaction was going to be to the new bule tenants. Well, I guess we managed to pass with high marks. She was smiling as we chatted about Florida, our sons, the house, traveling, missing our sons when we are not near them, blah, blah, blah. My sweetie pie said I earned especially high marks when we compared notes about crying after leaving our sons to go to some distant land.

Finally, Mr. Drapery Man manages to extract himself from the scene and we are now down to 7. More chatting happens and the Top Ibu, shook hands with us and we proceeded to shake hands with everyone left in the room before the entire process was over. Also at this point the landlord's wife must have felt tremendous relief over passing her own little test as she got much more talkative and friendly too. In fact, she said she is looking forward to coming over for a nice long visit and maybe dinner. I have asked around and most folks don't even know who their landlords are. My friend Gail said her landlord is in some place other than Indonesia due to some kind of sticky financial situation with the Indonesian government that could put him in the slammer. Guess they won't be having dinner with him.

We also took on our permanent staff last week. We said a tearful goodbye to Nurdin, our temporary driver on Wednesday. This is the duka part of the post. I really didn't expect to get so attached to him. I bought him a very handsome long sleeved batik shirt, wrote out a card, included a cash bonus, gave him a letter of reference and presented the entire kit and kaboodle to him when he brought my hubby home from work. I could not believe how teary eyed I got. We all shook hands and we watched him drive away. God help me. I can only imagine what I am going to be like with folks I spend three years with when it is our time to return to home soil.

My cutie pie husband said that he thought we had imprinted on Nurdin like little ducklings do on the first thing that they see upon hatching from an egg. He was our first introduction to Indonesia. We had to struggle through the total disorientation one feels in a new city with him. We had to experience the terror of Jakarta traffic with him. We had to learn to let go and trust him to drive us around always realizing that our lives were very much in his hands.

He is very much the typical Indonesian. He laughs and smiles easily, he smokes clove cigarettes, he is just a slip of a fellow who is always eager to please and no matter what you asked him he always said yes. "Do you know where the immigration office is?" Yes. "Is there a grocery store near here?" Yes. "Should we go to this place first and then this other place next?" Yes. Even if the answer shouldn't have been yes, that is what you got. Bless his heart, he always tried to get it right and not disappoint you. He is certainly someone we will not forget.

May your days be filled with more suka than duka.