A year in the life of an expat

This weekend, honey lamb and I will celebrate one whole year of being expatriates. This feels almost shocking to us both. Thankfully, it isn't one of those situations where you say, "OMG. That felt like FOREVER." Instead, it is more of "I can't believe that a year has already gone by."

All of this brings about a feeling of great accomplishment but also some feelings of inadequacy. I think of all the things we have done and hurdles we have crawled, scaled, scrambled and dragged each other over in the past year and feel proud. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would find myself doing something like this or ever living in this kind of situation.

However, I feel sad too that I have yet to master some of the things I hoped that I would by this blip on the time scale. My language skills are progressing at a speed best measured by geologic time. This continues to distress and disappoint me. Yes, compared to a year ago, I am much better at communicating and my reading skills are greatly improved. But there is so much I don't understand when people speak to me. Colloquial terms, idiomatic expressions, the speed at which they speak (not to mention that my hearing isn't as great as it once was) still cause major problems. Just like in the US when someone from New Jersey talks to someone from Alabama there is going to be lots of stuff that just isn't understood. Slang, accents, speed of speech. Yeah buddy....problems galore.

I still don't know as much about Indonesia and its culture as I thought I would. Yes, I understand about certain things, but there is a lot I have yet to delve into. Granted, I haven't spent near the time reading about their history, and all the different cultures as I have with language lessons so I guess it is unreasonable to expect too much. You think that you will absorb stuff. But just like in school, sleeping with the book under your pillow just doesn't get the job done. So, I will need to study a bit.

Unfortunately, you want to get out there and see and do stuff, not just read it in a book. I could be sitting on the beach in Florida and study about Indonesian history and not have a single grain of Indian Ocean sand touch my feet. I haven't quite gotten the balance right yet. Sweetums and I thought we would have it all figured out by now.

When will we ever learn.............

This one year anniversary also brings us to the ever popular photo baru (new photo) for my kitas. As you most likely remember, last years trip to "imigrasi" was a pretty memorable thing. And the picture........well, you remember. Bloated toad was the phrase I believe I used. If not, it should have been.

Today, honey bun is bringing home my passport with the latest, and hopefully greatest, photo that I get to live with for the next year. According to him, he has gotten a preview, it is much better. Well, it wouldn't have had to go to far to be an improvement. So, we shall see what my glamor shot looks like this go round.

I have also learned to not let the prices of items in the grocery make my hair stand up. There is a balance and you just have to get the things you need and also learn to compromise sometimes on brands. I have also learned that many times the things that are imported are not handled very well and are usually not made the same as the item at home. Oreos do NOT taste like this in the US and Hagen Das ice cream that has been defrosted, refrozen no telling how many times is not worth spending almost $10 a pint for. My doctor will be happy to hear such news as I shouldn't be eating that stuff anyway.

I saw in the Jakarta Post last week that there are 8 million motor cycles in Jakarta and 3 million cars. I would agree with that figure. I have been sitting in the middle of all of them, I believe, on numerous occasions. But after being here a year, I manage to not notice it as often as I used to. There are still days where I am a major backseat driver and continue trying to stomp on the brake peddle that isn't there. I have learned the fine art of either being totally amazed by what is out the window of the car and not noticing that there are about 50 motorcycles coming at me from seemingly all directions, or texting while riding is a good way to take your mind off what sometimes looks like immiment death by being crushed under a big city bus that is trying to merge on top of us.

It is still a struggle to be so far away and overwhelming at times to think of how long it takes to get from here to there. I try not to think about it too much. It makes me feel too vulnerable. I would say claustrophobic is an accurate discription some days.

For the last year, actually I didn't begin my blog until February, I have written about all kinds of things. I am not really sure who is reading the stuff that I write. Many times I feel really silly even writing it as there are much bigger problems in the world than mine.

It is also very weird having such a one sided conversation. You never call. You never write. You never send flowers. I am not always sure anyone is really listening, interested or just wishes I would stop all of this blogging. I guess the beauty of that is that if you aren't interested you don't have to read my droning on and on about my adjustment process.

With that in mind. I will close this chapter. Let us all be blessed with all the riches that really matter in life. May our imagrasi photos be beautiful. And, may our ears and hearts be filled with the telling and being told how much those we care about, are cared about.

Hamming it up

Last night, we decided to make breakfast for dinner. It is one of those silly little delights that we enjoy on occasion. What started it was finding an American brand bag of self-rising flour in the grocery and the fact that I haven't made pancakes from scratch in almost a year.

We then decided we needed something else to go along with it. That something wound up being some country ham that I bought from a German deli not too far from our house. Now this deli has a lot of interesting things in it and you can call them up, order, and they will deliver to your door. Is that sweet or what?

I had visited their store and bought an assortment of things which have all been pretty yummy. Last night I uncovered a package of frozen country ham. We opened it and discovered it was very thinly sliced ham. A little odd, but we let it go. We slapped some of the pieces on the griddle and heated it up. It smelled pretty good and it made a welcome addition to our dinner menu.

The sweet smell of pancakes filled the kitchen along with the slightly salty smell of the ham. Hot diggity!

Sweetums and I sat down at the table, slathered some butter on the hot pancakes and drenched them in syrup. We divided up the slices of ham and the forks were flying. The pancakes were excellent and then we both tried the country ham. Well, it was a bit of a disappointment. It smelled good while cooking, but didn't really taste like much of anything. In my book, country ham has some very specific criteria to meet or it just isn't country ham. I guess it just depends on which country you are in.

If the producer of this ham wants to really get with the program, they need to talk to some of the fine people on the eastern side of the US about how to make REAL country ham. Otherwise they need to put a different label on there and call it salty smelling, bland tasting white meat made from pigs not to be confused with country ham.

This all reminds me of an incident way, way back in my life, that could not happen today due to current flying regulations.

One of my brothers had moved from North Carolina to Texas and was missing certain things that were not offered there. Things like Duke's mayonnaise, Squirt, and country ham from a place that makes some of the best country ham in the world.

Anyway, after I moved to Texas too and was on a visit back to the mother-land, I was commanded to return with packages of the "other white meat" that brother number two had purchased for the deprived brother number one. Seemed pretty straight forward as many things do on the surface.

How full of mischief could a dozen plus slick plastic packages of ham be?

To set the scene, just imagine that I had a wild strawberry colored Samsonite over-night shoulder bag. Yep, imagine that! It seemed like the perfect vehicle to transport the requested items. No laughing at the luggage. It was hot stuff back in the 70's. It was probably even considered "sassy."

I stuffed as many of the sealed packages in the side pockets but had to stuff a few packages inside the bag along with my own personal items. Once at the airport, I had to put the bag on a conveyor belt to go though the X-ray machine where it promptly fell on it's side and the ham packets began to slide, no, squirt is more accurate, out. My bag was oozing ham. I was trying to catch it and stick it back in my sassy wild strawberry colored bag as it made it's way along. It came out the other side with ham packets still scooting all over the place. The security people all found this amusing. I was saying bad words and trying to make the ham behave and stay put. I also did not say nice things about my brother while this was happening.

I guess this all links together in some convoluted way in my head. Country ham has to be the real deal to me or it just leaves you unsatisfied. Pigs may be very smart, but country ham has a mind of its own. People miss the common place things that they don't have even when they move within the confines of their own country (even if Texans consider Texas a whole other country). Comfort food comes in many forms or certain foods seem comforting when eaten in certain situations. And, I seem to have a long standing history of not getting along very well with plastic (please see previous posts).

Therefore, take comfort my friends in the little things; for you never know when they might be hard to come by.

Fish bombs and other food related topics

Bomb Explosion: Central Sulawesi
A fish bomb exploded at the house of forestry agency head in Tojo Una – Una
regency, Central Sulawei on Thursday 6 January. No injuries were reported
and police are investigating. (Source: Media Indonesia)

"So what is a fish bomb? Can only make you wonder. Probably did not smell
good anyway you approach it." (Quote and news flash from sweetie pie to me)

No, I am not making this up. Honey lamb gets all kinds of security updates at his job and some of the more choice ones he sends to me. Sometimes, here in our little stress-free world as some imagine we live in, their are unnerving warnings like those about protest areas to avoid, violence against certain groups, volcanic eruptions, or things that could severely alter your life. Thank goodness, some are simply amusing as they have no direct impact on me. Now, I imagine if I had been the recipient of a fish bomb I probably would be less amused.

Here is another news flash.
CIVIL & LABOR AFFAIRS
Official Run Amok Over Job Transfer
An inauguration ceremony for officials in Palopo, South Sulawesi, had to be
cancelled on Wednesday 5 January after an officer, upset about his new
posting,threatened to attack colleagues and guests with a bamboo pole. Andi Nur Pallulu, the former head of the Palopo administration’s national unity and public protection division, started overturning chairs and tables, screaming that anybody who dared move him to his new post “would have to deal with him personally.” He was recently named head of the city’s Women’s Empowerment and Family Planning Agency.
Participants and guests dispersed during Andi’s outburst and there were no
reports of injuries. (Source: The Jakarta Globe)

OK....

Enough of these news flashes and on to food related topics that are much more interesting anyway.

In the Monday edition of the Jakarta Post, there was an interesting article on sambal. A couple of things before we proceed. First there is a chili crisis here in Indonesia. With the abundant rains we have had both over the summer (sorry that would be the summer months as they relate to the other side of the world and areas that have seasonal changes other than it rains a fair amount or it rains so hard that you have class 3 rapids on the streets) and during the winter months (see previous notation)chili production is down. Chili prices are soring and this is a major problem for a country who LOVES sambal and chilies in every form.

Secondly, if you have been keeping up with things that I have posted, if you haven't, you know who you are, you will remember the sambal discussion.
Today we will explore the topic of sambal further.

According to this article, there are 19 kinds of sambal. Who knew? This is probably a little low as I am sure there are subtle variations for the people who tweak the recipe based on what they like. Let's explore some of these recipes.

In this article I don't know if they listed them by preference, amount consumed, oldest recipes to newest versions or what. But let's dive in. Oh! By the way, all of the following is paraphrased from the Jakarta Post and Wikipedia. This is my general interpretation and highlights of what was printed.

Sambal terasi. It apparently is a very common style of sambal made here. Terasi is fermented shrimp paste. It is mixed with red and green chilies, sugar, salt, either lime or lemon juice. The citrus juice can be omitted and pounded tomatoes used instead. It is not cooked.

Sambal mangga uses the above sambal recipe with shredded young mango added. There appear to be multiple recipes which use sambal terasi as the base and then they improvise.

As would make sense, different areas of the archipelago has their version of how they like their sambal.

Padang, which is on the west coast of Sumatra (the big island to the north and west of Java where we reside) produces many versions of sambal for which they are well known.

Sambal balado is Padang's famous sambal. To make it you can use either red or green chilies mixed with garlic, shallot, red or green tomatoes, salt and either lemon or lime juice. It is then sauteed with oil.

In Bali they like Sambal matah. It is made with raw shallot and lemongrass. The shallots are finely chopped along with bird's eye chili, terasi and a little dash of lemon.

In Manado they make sambal dabu-dabu. Coarsely chopped tomatoes, shallots birds's eye chili, basil, salt and vegetable oil.

Finally there is sambal petai. This sambal is a mix of red chili, garlic, shallot and petai, which is green stinky bean. No joke, that is what they are called in the English translation. So ends the paraphrasing.

You are now among the educated foodies and if asked, you can give a quick overview of sambal. If you get the opportunity, give it a try. I can guarantee it is much better than receiving a fish bomb.

Paintings at an art exhibition

In Jakarta, well it seems like all over Indonesia, the tables get turned on you when you visit a museum or some kind of tourist attraction. You suddenly become the exhibit. We went to Yogyakarta during the holidays and we were photographed almost as much as Borobudur temple. Every school group or family that came by either wanted a photo of us with them or they were snapping pictures with their cell phones as we walked by all sweaty from climbing the steep steps of the temple or being doused by a heavy rain storm. Man! Are we celebrities or what?

At the National Museum in Jakarta things got a little out of hand. We could not even walk around the museum and look at the exhibits. There were huge school groups touring the museum the day we went and they ALL had phones and or cameras that were strictly dedicated to photographing bules, not museum exhibits. Well almost. It was either photograph the bules or photograph themselves and their friends with the bules or them posing cutely in front of some antiquities that could possibly be considered as cool as bules.

We could not stop and read or really look at the displays. We had to keep moving while swarms of students followed us around just waiting for an opportunity to pose with us. Every room you went in there was a new group. We were accommodating at first. But then we realized that this would go on until closing time and we would not have moved more than about 20 feet. After about 30 solid minutes of this, we decided to use the tactic of moving quickly from one thing to the next and finding displays where there were as few people as possible.

I think it would not have been as bad if we had not just been through the same thing in Yogyajarta. For my son, who is 6'3" and a first time visitor, it was a little overwhelming. Now if those crowds of girls had maybe been over the age of 18, he might not have minded quite so much. But being surrounded by cute little Indonesian girls is still fun. They are very sweet and very cute and you can't help but get caught up in their enthusiasm about it all. To a point.

However, being a "rock star" gets old. I now have a better appreciation for celebrities who get mobbed and photographed when they are not necessarily at their best. The only difference is, my son is just a poor graduate school student and the pay differential is huge.

Christmas conundrums and surprises

What constitutes Christmas music is up for debate over here. I have never considered Amazing Grace nor The Battle Hymn of the Republic the kind of songs that spring from my lips at Christmas time. Yet as I wandered around Hypermart with sweetie one and sweetie two during the holidays, those were a couple of the songs on the Yule Time Top 40 Chart. It appeared that the criteria used for this compilation was if it had ANY kind of religious connotation, whether applicable or not, it was on the list.

The other holiday songs we heard, that are on my more typical play list, were rendered in a rather odd jazzy, show tune fashion. Instead of feeling all warm and fuzzy, I just felt warm and confused. I hope that Indonesians really don't think that is how the songs actually go. It could possibly be the case that this makes them more appealing to their ears. And bless their hearts they were trying to get in the spirit of things or at least go along with it all and make us feel "Christmasy."

As we walked around the store picking up supplies, songs were blaring out at a pretty fair volume. The up-side to this was it saved us from the perpetual jingle that they normally play while I shop there. For days that jingle will stay in my head. I am forced to sing the Gilligan's Island theme song to get rid of it. That is desperation for you.

There were Christmas decorations for sale and artificial trees. I scored a great Indonesian version of Monopoly for my son and for my friend Mary's son. It was mostly in Bahasa Indonesia and had Indonesian properties and cities. Instead of utilities it had the major airports around the country listed. The only place where they missed the mark was they didn't use rupiah for their money. It was just boring Monopoly money.

In the land where everyone is a millionaire, simply due to the fact that 100,000 rupiah is equivalent to about $10.00 US this could have been fun. You would have had to have stacks and stacks of money to buy properties or houses. Pass go. Collect 2,000,000.00 rupiah.

There was also the mental issue of just trying to get used to having a tropical Christmas. I know for at least half of the world this is normal operating procedure. Even after living on the Gulf Coast for so many years and having a warm weather holiday, this was even more mind boggling. Don't misunderstand, I am only voicing an observation about the differences. It would have been an even bigger blow to my system if I had been trying to get home to family in Europe or the Northeastern part of the US and gotten caught up in all of the travel issues they were having. My expat friend, who now lives in Canada, got trapped in all of that. She finally made it to her family in England, but not before getting stranded for a while in the South of France. Being the ever resourceful person that she is, she used it as a shopping opportunity to buy Christmas gifts for her family. Way to shop girl!

One very delightful surprise we had was that our staff got together and gave us Christmas gifts. Not only was I totally surprised, but very touched. These gifts are now proudly displayed in our home. We will always remember the thoughtfulness behind them and the loving people who gave them to us.

From the US, we also got some fun and thoughtful gifts from family. That was very appreciated. One of my brothers had spied some long, thin metal icicles at a craft fair last fall and bought some. When we were kids, my family had these dangling treasures on every Christmas tree we decorated. They were made of tin and were muted colors and would twirl around and catch the light with the slightest breeze or from the poking of inquisitive fingers of a child. Our housekeeper is going to love them when we hang them on our pohon natal (Christmas tree) next year. She loves sparkley things.

For our Christmas dinner we had roast chicken stuffed with herbs and surrounded by potatoes and carrots. We had Ocean Spray canned cranberry sauce, bok choy that was stir fried with red chillies and garlic and of course, a side dish of rice. Our dessert was pisang goreng - fried bananas coupled with vanilla ice cream. It was a blend of new and old, East and West. It was a very nice meal which we all ate while dressed in shorts and tee shirts.

While there were conundrums, there was a beautiful blending of things that made it a very joyous occasion. May we keep that spirit all year long.

Welcome home

On my recent trip to Amerika, as it is called and spelled here, and back again, I made a few interesting observations.

First and most importantly, despite the long line you have to stand in at airport immigration, I love chatting with the immigration officer when it is my turn. I love it when the conversation is concluded and they say "Welcome home." I am sure they don't think much of saying that to each returning US citizen. And I am also sure it doesn't always mean very much to many of the people who are tired and just want to get home. But I am just a sappy person I guess. And being an expat now, it just sounds so wonderful to me. I am sure they wonder about me because I get this big ol' goofy grin on my face and tell them "Thanks. It is good to be here."

Secondly, I shopped for myself and honey bun and I also had promised our staff that I would bring something back for each of them. My housekeeper wanted a pink hooded sweatshirt jacket. I have been here almost a year and a sweatshirt jacket is still not on my list of things to wear six degrees below the equator. This continues to confirm the fact that I am not a native, besides the obvious things which I have commented on in previous posts.

She loves pink. I shopped for a pink "hoodie" and had no trouble finding one. The irony came in when I was looking at the size label. I was buying an article of clothing on US soil for my Indonesian housekeeper and that article was made in Indonesia. Wasn't sure if I should cut the label out or take a Sharpie marker and blacken it. Just another one of those odd things that you never really think about until it is put in a totally different context.

I bought Houston sports teams hats for the jagas (guards in case you forgot). I couldn't decide what to get so I bought two Houston Texan hats and two Houston Rockets hats. The Texans hats were the hands down favorite. The Rockets hats have an awesome logo, but they don't say Houston or Texas anywhere. Not as popular as something that has a US city on it. Note to self, buy all the same thing because they are like kids and they compare and get stuff that has some well known US city on it. Maaf Pumpkin Center, N.C.

After almost a year in Indonesia, it is starting to feel like home. I know this sounds contradictory to my very first observation but not really. I will always love "home", but true to many writers declarations, home is where you make it. I looked forward to seeing my husband and returning to our "new home" with our son. Maybe that is what kind of sealed the deal. The three of us together. Sharing all the mundane things that we like to do. Together, under one roof.

Two dear expat friends pointed out a couple of things about this kind of life. Laura told me up front - "It will take you a year to really settle in." I thought this seemed like an excessively long time frame. But by golly, she was right. My friend Leena asked me when we returned from a trip to Australia back in November, "Did it feel like home when you came back?" That was November and I didn't quite feel like I was there yet.

But this time upon my return, it did feel like home. It was so nice to see my husband and our driver waiting for my son and I as we came around the corner from customs. To see the jaga's familiar face and smile as he stepped out to slide the gate open for our car to pull in the drive. Our housekeeper and gardener waving hello and being totally amazed at how tall our son is and shaking hands with him and welcoming him to Indonesia. It was all very special to me.

It was just like our family back "home" welcoming us when we pull in the driveway of their home or seeing that first glimpse of their smiling faces when they greet us at the airport.

Part of feeling home too is seeing friends. That is a challenge when you are jet lagged, short on time and long on list. But, I did feel the warm embrace of friends in Texas and also upon my return to Jakarta. It is a blessing to have many people think of you and care about your well being. It is not so nice a feeling when you know you can't see everyone of them and catch up on their news. I guess that also makes you feel like you are home because you are disappointed in not seeing all the people you care about and find out what is going on in their lives.

So, before this gets any more mushy. Let me tell you all how very lucky I feel to have you as friends and part of my family (family being either through guilt by association or being born in to the same family as me and therefore not having a choice). This past year has been a very big challenge for honey bun and I. If it hadn't been for loving hearts to help cheer us along, I probably would not be sitting here at my desk in Indonesia typing this. I would have packed what few belongings I had with me at the Shangri-oo-la-la and headed back to the good ol' US of A. But you helped see sweetums and I through so I now serve as your explorer.

So, if and when you come to our home on this tropical island, we hope we can make you feel welcome and return that warm embrace we have so especially appreciated for the last 12 months.

Enjoy being home, where ever that might be, and know we are thinking of you.

If the Kentucky Colonel only knew

While sweetie pie junior was visiting sweetie pie senior and I, he was fascinated by many things here. One of the things that really got away with him was the status that KFC holds in Indonesia.

Now when you think of fast food places, especially chicken places, you don't think of grandiose things do you? Well, you need to come for a visit so you can see how it is done on this side of the world.

The KFC that is in our little kampung is a huge affair. It has live music, it is twittered about, has a fan club and they deliver your order to your house on cute motorcycles with bright red boxes on the back with their logo plastered all over.

We decided to give the delivery service a whirl just so we could get a picture of the delivery guy on his motorcycle. Sweetums senior thought that it would be fun to order a Super Kombo Meal for us and for the housekeeper and jaga. That was a very wise move on his part. There was joyous squeeling and big smiles from the staff when we asked "Anda suka KFC?" (You like KFC?)

Since this was honey bun seniors idea, I opted to let him place the order. That didn't work too well. I could see his face going from confident to perplexed during the ordering process. You could see that as they were speaking to him, he was having trouble figuring out what they wanted. He handed the phone to me. Oh brother! I was suddenly in charge. Finally, I figured out what the guy was saying. He wanted my hand phone number right off the bat. This was not at all what hubby was expecting and it just totally threw him off his game.

Once we got over that hurdle, I tried to place the order. I needed five(lima) Super Kombo Meals, spicy. Seemed to have lots of struggles with that and then the nice, very soft spoken young man handed me over to a very nice, more mature sounding man. After a little repeating he got it. That is a good thing because up to this point I think I was going to get lima pieces of chicken of unknown distinction.

We got to the address phase and things were good. I was told "35 minit, Mrs." So all we had to do was wait for the delivery guy to show. They were in fact, early. This is highly irregular in the US. Guess those agile motorcycles give them a leg up on that function. I had given the money to the housekeeper and thought we would hear the guy arrive. This was not true so we missed our photo op. Rats!

Our housekeeper had set the table and was all prepared for the feast. Little did she know that usually if we want something like that, we go pick it up, return home and eat it out of the container. What heathens!

Honey pie junior had been a little disappointed when he asked if it came with fries and I told him no, it comes with nasi (cooked rice) wrapped up in a paper wrapper. At first he was not sold on the idea. However, once the wrapper came off the nasi he declared it a good thing because it gave him an additional opportunity to consume sambal on something else.

Sambal is kind of like thicker version of Texas Pete, if you are from the East Coast or Tabasco if you are from the Gulf Coast and I don't have a clue what it is like if you are from California or Ohio. It is tasty stuff and can be very, very hot or hot/sweet at the same time. Each maker has his or her own way of making it. It can be thick and chunkey at times. Sort of like Picante Sauce. However you make it, saya suka!

Since we missed the delivery guy on the first try, we ordered chicken again on New Year's Eve. Thought it would be fun. This time I held on to the money so I could pay and also request a photo. Since we don't use the phone in our house very often, KFC was on redial. Hip Hip Hurrah! This time we just gave our hand phone number to the person on the other end and wonderful things happened. In less than 30minutes, our delivery guy arrived.

I paid for the chicken and asked if he would mind if I took a photo. Indonesians love to have their pictures taken so he was most agreeable. All the men-folk gathered around the motorcycle with the happy little delivery box on the back and I snapped away. Of course I had to show the driver the photo. He smiled and gave a thumbs up. I imagine he was hoping to wind up on the KFC fan site under the category of "Our favorite KFC Delivery Guys." Unfortunately, that will not be but he will be forever immortalized on my blog and in our hearts.

Time travelers

Just two days in to 2011, I put sweetie pie senior and sweetie pie junior on a plane bound for the US. Had to be one of my more odd moments. Sending the two things I love most in life to the other side of the world all at once.

But, I enjoyed the thought of the two of them exploring the Singapore and Moscow airports together and doing some male bonding without "mom" butting in every five minutes and their being travel companions for the next 30 + hours.

Yes, there will be sleeping and movie watching during that time but it is the shared experience of making the journey together that will not be forgotten. I am sure they will compare notes on the action flicks they watch or the fun animated movies they view and who had what for dinner. But as with many men, it is just the closeness of proximity that makes them feel happy and secure. The need for deep, meaningful conversation is not massively necessary and in fact, many times, seems to impede the process of just being. Maybe their is a lesson here that could be useful for a "mom" like me.

Take off was at 8:40pm, Jakarta time on Sunday. They landed in Singapore about an hour and a half later. The longest layover of the trip was there and they didn't take off again until 2:20am. About 1:00pm, Jakarta time on Monday, I got a Skype call. It was my guys calling me from the Moscow airport. It was about 8am on Monday there. Stay with me now cause with this International Date Line thingy, it gets very confusing.

While I was sleeping, very early Tuesday morning here (3:00am if you are trying to keep up), they landed in Houston. For them it is 2:00pm in the afternoon on Monday. From take off to landing was about 30 and a half hours. This of course doesn't include the travel time to and from each airport. Ladies and gents. It is a long travel experience.

After I really thought about all of this, I am now in amazement that I can even make a sentence once I arrive. No wonder my body is so confused when I do this trip!

It is now almost 4:00pm here in Jakarta on Tuesday afternoon. They are all snuggled down in their respective beds snoring away I hope. My guess is that in about an hour, maybe two, they are going to be wide awake on Tuesday morning on US soil. The first few days your wake-sleep cycle is so messed up you are up at four or five in the morning and semi comatose by seven that night.

Even though it is tough on our bodies, it is a marvel that we have the ability to go all the way from one side of the planet to the other in a reasonably short time. It is also a marvel that you can use your computer to stay in touch with those left behind or waiting for you during this process.

Who knows, maybe real time travel will come to be and you will be able to teleport from one place to the next like in Star Trek. There will probably still be "teleport lag", but maybe you won't feel quite so beat up once you get there. In the mean time, bless you Orville and Wilbur. You really started something big. Oh, and St. Christopher, you've done a outstanding job so far. Keep it up.