As Tara has duly noted, my grammar has been a bit off lately. Don't worry, I am trying to rectify this situation. I think teaching English in a country where I hear horrible English every day has started to take a toll on my brain...I've even started thinking that things like "My name Tori" actually sound correct...
So because my grammar has been a bit off, I decided to go with the Indonesian technique of just repeating things when you want to make them plural. Take a look at the title of this blog. I wasn't sure if it should be "Fallings Out" or "Falling Outs," and I'm still not entirely sure, although I think it might be the former...
So this will just be a quick update, and I do apologize for not having written in a while. I just had to take some mid-term tests at uni, so it's been kind of crazy these past two weeks...
Robe and I are now fine, as far as our injuries are concerned. Everything except for my knee is all healed up. Robe's foot is even fine, and the burn has gone away (miraculously!).
Tara, what I was talking about with my student telling me his sister died was this. In Indonesia, people don't seem to take death too seriously. Literally, the day after his sister died, he was in my class smiling and having a good time. His sister died suddenly and unexpectedly, might I add, so it should have been even that more shocking and upsetting to him, but he was totally fine. And the other students in the class were joking about it like it was nothing. I was just shocked and rather appalled at this attitude about death, but I guess that's just the culture.
Okay, so about these "falling out, falling out" things. The other day, we had a big dinner with my former host family and some friends. All in all there were 13 of us. We all had a great time during dinner, laughing and enjoying ourselves. At the end of the dinner, my host family paid for the meal as usual. Well, after getting home and getting ready for bed about an hour and a half after dinner, I got a VERY angry text message from my host brother, Octa. He scolded me for not having paid for dinner, telling me that I was impolite and disrespectful. I really didn't understand what he was angry about, considering we had gone out to dinner a million times before that and the family had always paid. Then it turned out he expected me to pay not only for my meal, but for everyone else's meal...and I didn't even know half of those people were coming with us until we got to the restaurant! I tried to explain myself and justify my behavior to him, but it was to no avail. I also texted my host sister, Amellia, and two of my Indonesian friends who were at dinner with us. They all said that it was okay, but that then they said, "But don't do it again!"
Shocked and confused, I continued to sms Octa, but he was having none of my explanation. Then he let out that he and his family didn't really like Robe or Robe's family. I asked why, considering that they had never in their entire lives given a good reason to dislike them. Turns out, my host family doesn't like Robe's family because at one of my engagement parties there was a Muslim prayer for me and Robe. WHAT?! That's seriously the reason why they don't like Robe's family!! So I texted him back, letting him know what I thought of biggots and told him that I did not associate with people like him. He texted back that he was very disappointed in me as a Christian and that the biggest mistake he's ever made in his life is calling me his "sister." And that was the last of our correspondence.
Crazy, right?! I was completely blown away by the whole thing. I guess I now know the true character of my host family. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I didn't even bother explaining to him that at that engagement party the majority of people were Muslim (Robe's neighbors), and they asked us if it would be okay for them to pray for us. Of course it's okay! And of course the only way they know how to pray is the Muslim way. I couldn't have told them, "I'm sorry, could you please pray to Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior?" Ridiculous. Frankly ridiculous.
And weird, too. I'm not really sure where all of this came from. There is some underlying reason for his explosion that I'm obviously unaware of, but I guess the one good thing that has come of this is that I now know who my host family truly is.
Another falling out came about a week ago with an English teacher here, Bu Francien. She has been such a huge help to me ever since I came to Indonesia, but she blew up at me the other day and I haven't heard from her since. Here's what happened. I was helping her out, teaching a group of 12 adults who are getting ready to pursue their Ph.Ds abroad. Our class had to start very early in the morning, though, because I had to go to my own classes in the late morning. So we had class starting from 7:30 to 9:00am every day. One day she told me she would open the door to my classroom. Well, 7:30 came and went and she wasn't there, so I decided to find my own classroom. At 8:00, she called me yelling at me, asking why I left and why did I make her come down to campus for nothing. I politely reminded her that my class started at 7:30, which means that I start talking at 7:30, not 7:45 and not 7:50. She got totally pissed off and started yelling in Indonesian, so I just hung up the phone. I was in the middle of class, after all!
So anyway. Indonesians are weird people who get angry for weird things, like wanting to start class on time or like not paying for two big families' meals. Very, very strange. I'm kind of glad I'm coming home in a few weeks. I've pretty much had all I can take of this!
Okay here's some news - I will get in to Dayton, Ohio, on Wednesday May 28th at 5:50pm. I'm very excited about this and cannot wait to see all of you!!!!
Alrighty well that's about all. I'm hungry now, so I'm going to go get me some chicken satay...man, I'm going to miss that food!! :)
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Yes, I did actually throw a rock at a bus...
It's true - I really did that. But trust me, I was in rare form that day!
So it seems I have been on a roll recently. I go from seriously lucky to having the worst luck in the world, then back again to insanely lucky (in one day!). Here's what I mean: This morning, I got up late, which would have made me late to teach except that all of my students were late! Then, I was supposed to get paid before I started teaching, but the accountant lady was late, so she ended up giving me an extra Rp100,000 (only $10, but that's a lot in Indonesia!). So I was on cloud nine, until later that morning when Robe and I got into a motorcycle accident. That sucked and made us late to the Immigration office here, but when I was there I found out that I didn't have to buy an Exit Permit to leave the country. And this is how my past few days have been!
So more on that motorcycle accident. Robe and I were putting along on his motorbike as we had left a little bit early and were not in a hurry to get to Immigration. *Remember, they drive on the left-hand side here.* Suddenly, this big dump-truck-like thing (carrying huge logs I think) pulled out of a driveway from the right-hand side and started moving really quickly into our lane. Robe moved left to let the truck in, but we quickly ran out of space when we realized the truck driver wasn't paying attention and he totally just pushed us off the road. This would have been okay if there hadn't been a huge hole on the left side, and we drove into it. This also would have been okay if the hole hadn't been filled with tons of mud, which made it impossible for Robe's motorbike to drive through. So the bike just fell over, taking us down with it. Luckily we weren't actually on the road, so the motorbikes behind us didn't have any trouble dodging our bodies... Yea...
I did notice one thing, though. Whenever someone has an accident in the US, people always stop to make sure everyone is alright and doesn't need medical assistance. However, in Indonesia, people just drive around you like they don't even care (and they probably don't actually care...). I was a bit angry at this, actually. It just goes to show that Indonesians don't really care all that much about other people...
So anyway. We are both okay. I've got scrapes & bruises on my left & right arm and on my left leg. We were both obviously wearing helmets, so our heads are fine (just a little headache). Although once my head hit the ground, my helmet flew off. Robe is buying me a better helmet as we speak. Robe only has scrapes on his legs, but he burned the bottom of his foot on the exhaust pipe thing, so that sucks a lot because it hurts to walk. My left knee is pretty nasty, so it's a little sore to walk on, but nothing compared to Robe! Poor thing!
I know what you're all going to say - don't ever ride a motorbike again! Well, we went back to Robe's shop after stopping by Immigration and Robe's family just made fun of Robe. They didn't really seem all that concerned that we had been hurt, but I'm starting to realize that this is just the typical Indonesian attitude towards certain things. Actually just this morning in class, I asked if anyone had any news from the weekend, and one of them said that Mega (a man in my class - I'm teaching adults who are preparing to do a Ph.D program abroad) might have some news. She even laughed when she said it, so I thought it was funny news. I followed suit, asking in a joking manner what had happened. He responded, with a smile on his face, that his sister died suddenly on Friday evening at the age of 35! I was shocked and immediately offered my condolences, but the others in the class seemed rather insensitive. After Mega told his story, one of the other men replied enthusiastically, "Oh yea, I heard about that! What a story!"
So after the accident, I told Robe that I was hesitant to get back on the motorbike again. He understood (and btw he feels really bad about the whole thing, the poor thing is a wreck - pun intended), but after talking to his family to see if I could use the car to get home from school in the evenings, they seemed hesitant. They didn't understand why I was being such a baby about getting back on the motorbike, so I guess I'm stuck with it for the time being. I have 2 options at this point - take the motorbike home or go by taxi. Considering taking a taxi every night would defeat the purpose of me working, I guess I'll stick with the motorbike. Oh, well...
Alrighty. In other exciting news, yesterday (April 13th) was Robe's Dad's (Yohanes) 52nd birthday. We didn't do much the day of, considering Yohanes was sick all morning. People stopped by all afternoon, wishing him a Happy 52nd and all that jazz, and we ate the traditional nasty food they eat for birthdays around here. Too bad for me, I can't eat any of the things that Chinese-Indonesians usually prepare for birthdays - fried noodles (eww), duck eggs (it's like eating the entire salt shaker at once) and pork (I could eat the meat if it wasn't drenched in this awful sweet & salty, teriaki-wannabe sauce).
So that was all we did, but then today all of Yohanes's kids planned this awesome surprise. They all pretended to be running late, and then they didn't open the shop on time. Yohanes got so mad that he actually came down to the shop himself early (he usually doesn't go in until 10am) to see what was going on. When he got there, he found no one outside and the gate to the shop half-opened. He pushed the gate open, and suddenly everyone (his kids & employees) jumped out and yelled "Surprise!" It was hilarious - he apparently went instantly from fuming red to laughing hysterically. It was great because it's nearly impossible to surprise this man. The only thing that sucked was that I couldn't be there. I had to teach. Oh, well...
Okay I guess that's all that's going on around here. I love you all lots and lots and can't wait to see you in about 5 weeks or so!!! Muah!!
~ Tori =)
P.S. To answer your comments, Robe still doesn't have his Visa and at this point we're looking at August/September as the time for him to come to the US. This process typically takes about 3-8 months from the time you start everything to the time you set foot in the country, and it looks like we're going to be on the long end of that timeline because Robe comes from the largest Muslim country in the world (and plus this country might have the record for the worst record keeping in the world, which makes it more difficult to do background checks). We're both pretty upset about the whole thing, considering we started the process with such high hopes. It's just like every day is another reminder of our future separation as we move closer and closer to my departure date. But I'm not worried. I know we can get through it. The US Embassy in Jakarta expects me to be there with Robe when he has his interview (eventually - maybe in July or August), so it's looking like I'll be coming back to Indonesia for a while at least...
So it seems I have been on a roll recently. I go from seriously lucky to having the worst luck in the world, then back again to insanely lucky (in one day!). Here's what I mean: This morning, I got up late, which would have made me late to teach except that all of my students were late! Then, I was supposed to get paid before I started teaching, but the accountant lady was late, so she ended up giving me an extra Rp100,000 (only $10, but that's a lot in Indonesia!). So I was on cloud nine, until later that morning when Robe and I got into a motorcycle accident. That sucked and made us late to the Immigration office here, but when I was there I found out that I didn't have to buy an Exit Permit to leave the country. And this is how my past few days have been!
So more on that motorcycle accident. Robe and I were putting along on his motorbike as we had left a little bit early and were not in a hurry to get to Immigration. *Remember, they drive on the left-hand side here.* Suddenly, this big dump-truck-like thing (carrying huge logs I think) pulled out of a driveway from the right-hand side and started moving really quickly into our lane. Robe moved left to let the truck in, but we quickly ran out of space when we realized the truck driver wasn't paying attention and he totally just pushed us off the road. This would have been okay if there hadn't been a huge hole on the left side, and we drove into it. This also would have been okay if the hole hadn't been filled with tons of mud, which made it impossible for Robe's motorbike to drive through. So the bike just fell over, taking us down with it. Luckily we weren't actually on the road, so the motorbikes behind us didn't have any trouble dodging our bodies... Yea...
I did notice one thing, though. Whenever someone has an accident in the US, people always stop to make sure everyone is alright and doesn't need medical assistance. However, in Indonesia, people just drive around you like they don't even care (and they probably don't actually care...). I was a bit angry at this, actually. It just goes to show that Indonesians don't really care all that much about other people...
So anyway. We are both okay. I've got scrapes & bruises on my left & right arm and on my left leg. We were both obviously wearing helmets, so our heads are fine (just a little headache). Although once my head hit the ground, my helmet flew off. Robe is buying me a better helmet as we speak. Robe only has scrapes on his legs, but he burned the bottom of his foot on the exhaust pipe thing, so that sucks a lot because it hurts to walk. My left knee is pretty nasty, so it's a little sore to walk on, but nothing compared to Robe! Poor thing!
I know what you're all going to say - don't ever ride a motorbike again! Well, we went back to Robe's shop after stopping by Immigration and Robe's family just made fun of Robe. They didn't really seem all that concerned that we had been hurt, but I'm starting to realize that this is just the typical Indonesian attitude towards certain things. Actually just this morning in class, I asked if anyone had any news from the weekend, and one of them said that Mega (a man in my class - I'm teaching adults who are preparing to do a Ph.D program abroad) might have some news. She even laughed when she said it, so I thought it was funny news. I followed suit, asking in a joking manner what had happened. He responded, with a smile on his face, that his sister died suddenly on Friday evening at the age of 35! I was shocked and immediately offered my condolences, but the others in the class seemed rather insensitive. After Mega told his story, one of the other men replied enthusiastically, "Oh yea, I heard about that! What a story!"
So after the accident, I told Robe that I was hesitant to get back on the motorbike again. He understood (and btw he feels really bad about the whole thing, the poor thing is a wreck - pun intended), but after talking to his family to see if I could use the car to get home from school in the evenings, they seemed hesitant. They didn't understand why I was being such a baby about getting back on the motorbike, so I guess I'm stuck with it for the time being. I have 2 options at this point - take the motorbike home or go by taxi. Considering taking a taxi every night would defeat the purpose of me working, I guess I'll stick with the motorbike. Oh, well...
Alrighty. In other exciting news, yesterday (April 13th) was Robe's Dad's (Yohanes) 52nd birthday. We didn't do much the day of, considering Yohanes was sick all morning. People stopped by all afternoon, wishing him a Happy 52nd and all that jazz, and we ate the traditional nasty food they eat for birthdays around here. Too bad for me, I can't eat any of the things that Chinese-Indonesians usually prepare for birthdays - fried noodles (eww), duck eggs (it's like eating the entire salt shaker at once) and pork (I could eat the meat if it wasn't drenched in this awful sweet & salty, teriaki-wannabe sauce).
So that was all we did, but then today all of Yohanes's kids planned this awesome surprise. They all pretended to be running late, and then they didn't open the shop on time. Yohanes got so mad that he actually came down to the shop himself early (he usually doesn't go in until 10am) to see what was going on. When he got there, he found no one outside and the gate to the shop half-opened. He pushed the gate open, and suddenly everyone (his kids & employees) jumped out and yelled "Surprise!" It was hilarious - he apparently went instantly from fuming red to laughing hysterically. It was great because it's nearly impossible to surprise this man. The only thing that sucked was that I couldn't be there. I had to teach. Oh, well...
Okay I guess that's all that's going on around here. I love you all lots and lots and can't wait to see you in about 5 weeks or so!!! Muah!!
~ Tori =)
P.S. To answer your comments, Robe still doesn't have his Visa and at this point we're looking at August/September as the time for him to come to the US. This process typically takes about 3-8 months from the time you start everything to the time you set foot in the country, and it looks like we're going to be on the long end of that timeline because Robe comes from the largest Muslim country in the world (and plus this country might have the record for the worst record keeping in the world, which makes it more difficult to do background checks). We're both pretty upset about the whole thing, considering we started the process with such high hopes. It's just like every day is another reminder of our future separation as we move closer and closer to my departure date. But I'm not worried. I know we can get through it. The US Embassy in Jakarta expects me to be there with Robe when he has his interview (eventually - maybe in July or August), so it's looking like I'll be coming back to Indonesia for a while at least...
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Frustrating things about Indonesia...
Hola everyone! So the closer I get to my departure date, the more frustrating things seem to get here.
Actually, that's not entirely sure. I feel like these days I'm having so much more fun with my friends. We're doing so much more these days now that we are all used to our school schedules and work loads. But the second I'm by myself or with Indonesians (i.e. not with my friends - they're almost all foreign!), everything just frustrates me to no end!
Let's look at an example, shall we? So at MaChung (the new Chinese/International university that opened up in Malang this year) there are about 50 founders. Basically, these old, nasty, rich Chinese-Indonesian men got together and decided that they wanted to make a really modern, exclusive university for their own kind (i.e. Chinese Indonesians) to study. Great. So the main founder guy, Mr. Naga, is really nice. He's a bit intimidating, but he's a very nice gentleman once you get to know him. His wife, Mrs. Naga, is a different story altogether! She is one of the snobbiest, nastiest women I have met here. I guess it comes with the territory of being super wealthy. Anyway.
I first noticed her ridiculousness the first day I met her, which was back in October. She decided that she wanted to attend my English class at MaChung. So, after the MaChung driver picks me up, we swing by her house to pick her up. Now I say "swing by" but it usually turns into a 15-minute or so stop, because she's never ready on time and she demands that we wait for her, whether or not waiting will make me (the teacher) late to the class! She won't even walk out to the car. She demands that the car pull into her gate, which means that her poor housekeeper has to walk all the way out to the gate, open it up, close it up after the car pulls in, then repeat that stupid routine 15 minutes later. If it's raining, her housekeeper is not allowed to run out with an umbrella when she opens the gate. Instead, Mrs. Naga (which, coincidentally means "Dragon" in Indonesian. I like to call her the Dragon lady...) makes the car pull in as close as possible to the house. Then she makes her housekeeper hold the umbrella for her while she walks the 2 feet to the car door. Her housekeeper then opens the door for her and lets her in the car, then gives Mrs. Naga the umbrella (which she keeps with her, even though she refuses to hold it for herself), runs out to the gate, opens it, closes it up after the car leaves and bolts back into the house - no doubt by this time drenched from head to toe from these ridiculous shenanigans. Shenanigans, I tell you!
Then the other day she was in my class, which ends at 6:00 pm. She waited until 5:50pm, realized she needed to go home right away for some random reason and just left, completely forgetting about me. She had the MaChung driver drive her home immediately, so because she couldn't wait 10 minutes for me, I had to wait around after the campus was actually closed for the driver to return. Exhausted and cold, I finally arrived home at around 8:00pm. Ridiculous!
Oh this woman is terrible! She talks down to everyone and I dread the 20 minutes we have to spend in the car together six times a week (to-and-from campus twice a day, 3 days a week...).
So anyway. Many women here are like that, and it absolutely drives me crazy how they abuse people who work for them. Mrs. Naga's poor housekeeper is a 15-year-old girl who only graduated from elementary school and has been working/living at that house for several years now...oh my. Poor thing.
So what else has me frustrated? Oh, so many things to choose from. Adults in Indonesia often act like children. I swear. At MaChung, I teach teachers/staff members of the university and also the students in the English Department, and I have to say that the students are so much better behaved than the teachers! The other day, one of the teachers made a presentation in the class on Prostitution. As soon as he started talking & giving statistics, three male teachers in the back (ages 28-35) started GIGGLING and making horrible noises & jokes. I was so astounded, I actually stopped class and had to kick them out. How embarrassing is it for a 36-year-old to get kicked out of class for misbehaving?! Seriously, so many Indonesians are immature like that, it just drives me crazy.
Of course then there are always the middle-aged men yelling obscenities at young women (white, Chinese, Javanese) walking by. If I am walking along and I see a group of men sitting by the sidewalk, I will cross the street and avoid walking in front of them. Sometimes it's unavoidable, though, and then I just have to grit my teeth and bear it. Sometimes they call innocent things out at you, like "Hey misterrrr!" (they don't know the difference between mister and miss...), but then other times it's more serious things like "Hey, bule! F*** you!" I hate it so much...
Also, the public transportation drivers here make money based on how many passengers they can pick up, so it's a real race to grab the passengers. Because of this, they honk incessantly while calling out at anyone walking/standing on the sidewalk/street. I generally choose to ignore this, but when I'm standing waiting to be picked up or something, it gets really old to have these stupid mini-buses drive by you at a snail's pace, honking crazily as they pass, then once they reach you have the driver stick his stupid-looking head out the window and call out something. One time I didn't look up from my book at a particularly insistent driver, and I could hear him call me a "white monkey" and some other choice words. What did I do? I looked around quickly, and noticing that no one was around, I picked up a rock and chucked it at his bus. By the time the rock hit the window, I was already back to reading my book as if nothing had happened. It was really funny to watch how angry he got out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't help but feel a little satisfied.
Another time (and this was a while ago), while walking in front of some nasty, greasy men on the sidewalk, they let me know what they thought of me (and let's just say that it was quite clear they did not want me there). What did I do? I stopped dead, turned to them and walked a few steps towards them. As soon as I did that, I could see the expressions on their faces turn from laughing to terrified instantly. They had no idea what I was going to do. It was hilarious. Then, shocking them that I could understand their language, I told them politely that it was not polite to yell at people, especially foreigners. I proceeded to politely tell them that tourism was the reason they had clothes on their backs and they better just leave me alone. They seemed to agree with me, apologized, and then I continued walking. It was such a great feeling! I had finally defended myself, and I was very proud of myself...too bad I don't have that kind of courage every time I get yelled at. Oh, well...
So anyway. I guess I should get going now. Oh, before I do, I better answer your comments. Thank you all so much for them! I love reading from my loved ones :) The couple that was going to help us ended up being very little help. The Indonesian guy actually immigrated through a process that would be considered Visa Fraud these days, so I definitely won't be going that route. And that story about my Polish friend just kind of faded away after a few weeks, thank God! He moved back to Malang and he's still studying here. He decided to change his look, though, so he grew out a mustache & goatee and changed his hairstyle, just in case!
Love you all! Muah!!
Actually, that's not entirely sure. I feel like these days I'm having so much more fun with my friends. We're doing so much more these days now that we are all used to our school schedules and work loads. But the second I'm by myself or with Indonesians (i.e. not with my friends - they're almost all foreign!), everything just frustrates me to no end!
Let's look at an example, shall we? So at MaChung (the new Chinese/International university that opened up in Malang this year) there are about 50 founders. Basically, these old, nasty, rich Chinese-Indonesian men got together and decided that they wanted to make a really modern, exclusive university for their own kind (i.e. Chinese Indonesians) to study. Great. So the main founder guy, Mr. Naga, is really nice. He's a bit intimidating, but he's a very nice gentleman once you get to know him. His wife, Mrs. Naga, is a different story altogether! She is one of the snobbiest, nastiest women I have met here. I guess it comes with the territory of being super wealthy. Anyway.
I first noticed her ridiculousness the first day I met her, which was back in October. She decided that she wanted to attend my English class at MaChung. So, after the MaChung driver picks me up, we swing by her house to pick her up. Now I say "swing by" but it usually turns into a 15-minute or so stop, because she's never ready on time and she demands that we wait for her, whether or not waiting will make me (the teacher) late to the class! She won't even walk out to the car. She demands that the car pull into her gate, which means that her poor housekeeper has to walk all the way out to the gate, open it up, close it up after the car pulls in, then repeat that stupid routine 15 minutes later. If it's raining, her housekeeper is not allowed to run out with an umbrella when she opens the gate. Instead, Mrs. Naga (which, coincidentally means "Dragon" in Indonesian. I like to call her the Dragon lady...) makes the car pull in as close as possible to the house. Then she makes her housekeeper hold the umbrella for her while she walks the 2 feet to the car door. Her housekeeper then opens the door for her and lets her in the car, then gives Mrs. Naga the umbrella (which she keeps with her, even though she refuses to hold it for herself), runs out to the gate, opens it, closes it up after the car leaves and bolts back into the house - no doubt by this time drenched from head to toe from these ridiculous shenanigans. Shenanigans, I tell you!
Then the other day she was in my class, which ends at 6:00 pm. She waited until 5:50pm, realized she needed to go home right away for some random reason and just left, completely forgetting about me. She had the MaChung driver drive her home immediately, so because she couldn't wait 10 minutes for me, I had to wait around after the campus was actually closed for the driver to return. Exhausted and cold, I finally arrived home at around 8:00pm. Ridiculous!
Oh this woman is terrible! She talks down to everyone and I dread the 20 minutes we have to spend in the car together six times a week (to-and-from campus twice a day, 3 days a week...).
So anyway. Many women here are like that, and it absolutely drives me crazy how they abuse people who work for them. Mrs. Naga's poor housekeeper is a 15-year-old girl who only graduated from elementary school and has been working/living at that house for several years now...oh my. Poor thing.
So what else has me frustrated? Oh, so many things to choose from. Adults in Indonesia often act like children. I swear. At MaChung, I teach teachers/staff members of the university and also the students in the English Department, and I have to say that the students are so much better behaved than the teachers! The other day, one of the teachers made a presentation in the class on Prostitution. As soon as he started talking & giving statistics, three male teachers in the back (ages 28-35) started GIGGLING and making horrible noises & jokes. I was so astounded, I actually stopped class and had to kick them out. How embarrassing is it for a 36-year-old to get kicked out of class for misbehaving?! Seriously, so many Indonesians are immature like that, it just drives me crazy.
Of course then there are always the middle-aged men yelling obscenities at young women (white, Chinese, Javanese) walking by. If I am walking along and I see a group of men sitting by the sidewalk, I will cross the street and avoid walking in front of them. Sometimes it's unavoidable, though, and then I just have to grit my teeth and bear it. Sometimes they call innocent things out at you, like "Hey misterrrr!" (they don't know the difference between mister and miss...), but then other times it's more serious things like "Hey, bule! F*** you!" I hate it so much...
Also, the public transportation drivers here make money based on how many passengers they can pick up, so it's a real race to grab the passengers. Because of this, they honk incessantly while calling out at anyone walking/standing on the sidewalk/street. I generally choose to ignore this, but when I'm standing waiting to be picked up or something, it gets really old to have these stupid mini-buses drive by you at a snail's pace, honking crazily as they pass, then once they reach you have the driver stick his stupid-looking head out the window and call out something. One time I didn't look up from my book at a particularly insistent driver, and I could hear him call me a "white monkey" and some other choice words. What did I do? I looked around quickly, and noticing that no one was around, I picked up a rock and chucked it at his bus. By the time the rock hit the window, I was already back to reading my book as if nothing had happened. It was really funny to watch how angry he got out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't help but feel a little satisfied.
Another time (and this was a while ago), while walking in front of some nasty, greasy men on the sidewalk, they let me know what they thought of me (and let's just say that it was quite clear they did not want me there). What did I do? I stopped dead, turned to them and walked a few steps towards them. As soon as I did that, I could see the expressions on their faces turn from laughing to terrified instantly. They had no idea what I was going to do. It was hilarious. Then, shocking them that I could understand their language, I told them politely that it was not polite to yell at people, especially foreigners. I proceeded to politely tell them that tourism was the reason they had clothes on their backs and they better just leave me alone. They seemed to agree with me, apologized, and then I continued walking. It was such a great feeling! I had finally defended myself, and I was very proud of myself...too bad I don't have that kind of courage every time I get yelled at. Oh, well...
So anyway. I guess I should get going now. Oh, before I do, I better answer your comments. Thank you all so much for them! I love reading from my loved ones :) The couple that was going to help us ended up being very little help. The Indonesian guy actually immigrated through a process that would be considered Visa Fraud these days, so I definitely won't be going that route. And that story about my Polish friend just kind of faded away after a few weeks, thank God! He moved back to Malang and he's still studying here. He decided to change his look, though, so he grew out a mustache & goatee and changed his hairstyle, just in case!
Love you all! Muah!!
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