Edward Scissor-hands cuts my hair

As many of you have duly noted my hair has gone from red to boring brown and is now quite long. While the thought of coloring my hair does not interest me with my limited water supply I finally did get my hair cut this past week. Regina recommended a place that she and the children go to – Gee’s. Upon entering the second floor salon (through a bakery named Gins) the ammonia smell of yesteryear salons hits you full on. In the rather modern room sit three chairs to cut and three basins to have your hair washed. Regina came with me as both she and her son Jason wanted haircuts also. I was first up. The young girl behind the front desk washed my hair (cold water only) and then proceeded to massage my scalp and face. Finally she led me to the chair where “Edward scissor-hand” was strapping on a fanny pack filled with a variety of cutting tools. Regina told him I wanted it short and he understood the word “spikes”. With a flourish of hands he began by giving me a razor cut in the back and up the sides. Not exactly what I had in mind – but as Ihave always said – it grows back. Next came a flurry of activity with three different pairs of scissors and his movements were so quick that’s when I began to smile and think of Johnny Depp’s character clipping the bushes along the side of the house. My Edward scissor hand would stop, step back, see a misplaced hair and begin his flurry of activity again. This went on for a half hour. I don’t have that much hair! After he was sufficiently satisfied he nodded to the young girl who came and washed my hair again. (I guess after such a grueling workout my hair needed a cold wash). After placing me back in the chair, she sprayed some mist into my hair and again massaged my head. Afterwards, another young man came along and placed styling gel into my hair and began to arrange my hair, one follicle at a time. For this hour of pampering I was charged – 27,625.00 rupiahs. Unfortunately I don’t have a picture yet – my camera batteries died and I need to get new ones – then you will all get to see my $3.00 haircut.

office staff at school

These are the people who constantly clean and do all sorts of jobs - without them we would be in big trouble. Second from the left is Pak Toto - resident handy man and driver. He's the one who drives me to and from school each morning. The security guard stays in the little room behind the last gentleman - all night. However, he does not have a key to the building. The young girl, Iin, is 20 and she and I practice her English and my Bahasa each day (she is much better than I am!)

My Journey to Jakarta

Feeling well enough not to sit around the humble abode, Regina, Tasha (her daughter) and I decided to venture forth and explore the capital city of Jakarta. Regina is passionate about shopping, and those of you who know me that’s my idea of hell on earth. So we compromised, after we went book shopping we would visit a couple of museums in the old section of Jakarta. Our plan was set – we’d leave on the 5:45 am train and arrive in Jakarta at 9:00 am.

Watching the landscape from the train was breathtaking; the mountains being warmed by the morning sun in the background and the enormous rice paddies in the foreground. The train which was relatively modern had air conditioning with a stewardess and stewards who take your breakfast order and serve the food on china plates. Prior to breakfast you were given a bag that contained water, a sweet roll and crackers. I opted just for the bag of bread and a glass of hot coffee (which I keep forgetting is served very sweet). About three quarters of the way to Jakarta the train stopped for about 20 minutes. No one seemed concerned and continued to watch a pathetic American movie staring David Caruso.

After moving for about 10 minutes we stopped again, with the conductor coming on the PA system, informing us that there was a broken rail and it would be a while to fix it. People began to move about; talk, grumble and Regina came back and said she had heard we could be waiting for five hours! We decided to follow four other people and get off the train. We went through five cars, one having private compartments with couches and a music system. We passed the conductor smoking a cigarette, sitting and laughing with fellow workers. When we got to the front car there was no steps so we had to jump out of the train and land on the railroad tracks. We crossed two other tracks (and yes I did look both ways!) and finally got to the station. It was desolate- except for a few broken down, burned busses, and two becak drivers. The other passengers had already gotten into the remaining becak, someone called out to an old man from behind a building to take us. The three of use squeezed into his becak and the wizen old man began the long and bumpy ride to the bus station so we could continue our journey. We were too heavy a load for this poor man to keep up with the other drivers- but I did say my prayers as we were going the wrong way down a very busy one-way street. He hugged the side of the road, but that was broken and dilapidated and chunks of the road had fallen down into a ravine by the river. I didn’t look down, for fear of falling off the side of the road, and I didn’t look forward for fear of the on-coming traffic- so I just closed my eyes.

Pushing us the remaining 25 yards- we arrive across from the bus terminal. There are the other four train passengers in a taxi and telling us to get in. As we start to get in the taxi driver – pulls away – saying there are too many people. They wave good-bye as we are left standing by the side of the road. Up pulls another taxi. He and Regina begin to haggle about price as Tasha and I are trying to dodge the zooming traffic. Finally all fees have been negotiated and we set off for Jakarta.

Once in the taxi, I get my bearings and look at our transportation. Cracked windshield, no taxi license, and in order for him to get out of the car, the driver must roll down his window and open the door from outside. Nor can we open either of our doors from the inside. When Regina asked why he is not using the a/c he responded by saying he was low on gas and conserving! After more negotiations we have hired this gentleman (and I use the term very loosely), for the entire day. Regina felt sorry for him she would tell me later.
Finally we arrive in Jakarta – first stop - the largest English bookstore in the city. It had a number of books – mostly business and a great many textbooks, but it was fun to walk around.
Next we begin our trek through the congested streets of Jakarta to get to the museums. At a major intersection, our chariot stalled. The driver is cursing, and yelling, the traffic is piling up behind us, and horns are blaring. Our driver rolls down the window, opens his door and jumps out into this massive traffic jam. He attempts to push the car out of the intersection with the three of us sitting in the back seat. He calls to a young man on the side of the road to push the car as he hops back in and turns the ignition. the car begins to sputter and we are off!

For a taxi driver who claims to have lived in Jakarta he could not find his way to any museum. Regina called one museum 5 times and on the fifth call they asked – what kind of taxi driver do you have! As we are in front of one museum our trusty vehicle again dies. This time we are not in the middle of the busy intersection but still it is disconcerting. The driver hails an older vagabond to help who then refuses the lone cigarette the driver offers as payment. An argument ensues with the driver cursing out the man, and the man yelling about money. Regina gives money to the driver to pay the man; the driver tosses the money back to Regina refusing to pay the man that much money ($1.00). The driver gives the man two bills which correspond to approximately 2 cents. The museums were in close proximity of each other so we were able to rest the exhausted man and vehicle as we did our sightseeing. Now on to some of the sights.

Our fiesty driver

Our driver waiting for us at the Mosque - one of his calmer moments. That's him smiling - after Regina told him to!

Drum - for call to prayer

Inside the mosque which can accomodate 120,000 muslims (125 toilets) is this huge drum. The guard explained to us that many people don't even wear watches - they know the time by the beating of the drum. If you notice, I am wearing a gray robe (similar to our graduation gowns) my shirt sleeves were not long enough. Surprisingly, we did not have to wear head coverings.

Istiqlal Mosque

This the largest mosque in Southeast Asia,This national mosque of Indonesia was build to commemorate Indonesian independence, as nation's gratitude for God's blessings; the independence of Indonesia. Therefore the national mosque of Indonesia was named "Istiqlal", an arabic word for "Independence".

There was a competition for the building of the mosque and it was won by a Catholic architect.

staircase in the ceramic and fine arts museum

The building is an old Dutch building and the staircase was one of three in the building

Museum of Fine Arts and Ceramics

One of the many pieces of ceramics that was located in this old building. The lighting for the paintings was very poor so I didn't take any photos of them. The rooms were not air conditioned and I wonder how long the paintings will be able to handle the heat and humidity.

Jakarta Historical Museum

It houses collections of furnishings and portraits originating from the 18th century, many of which were owned by the former colonial governors in Jakarta.

The Wayang Museum

The finest displays of the exclusively Indonesian puppets known as wayang are shown in this museum. This museum also exhibits puppets from all parts of Indonesia and other parts of Southeast Asia as well. The wooden and leather puppets (known as wayang kulit) displayed here represent the finest craftsmanship in this particular form of traditional theater.

Sick in Indonesia

I am among the living. It’s been a couple of rough days starting with last Thursday .It started as a basic cold but then progressed to laryngitis, fever, the whole thing. I missed school on Friday, and also on Saturday (We had a parent/teacher conference that in Indonesia translates - attack the teacher- oh wait- that's the same as in US). Anyway, I couldn't get rid of the cough - so Regina brought me some cough syrup. Since they don't have health inspectors for restaurants or construction of buildings I can safely assume that they don't have food and drug laws. It could be just a coincidence but I've had the runs ever since I took the cough syrup (besides some heavy duty bizarre dreams). Without getting too graphic - you do not ever want to get the runs in a place that doesn't use tp on a regular basis and has a hole in the floor that you stand over I was so sick I could barely stand up - so it was not pretty picture for the past 36 hours. I thought for sure I would be having Regina take me to the Doctor’s or the hospital – but that quite frankly frightened me more. Regina has been wonderful, calling and coming over with food and anxiously asking if she could take me to the doctor’s office. Abdul and Yanti have also stopped by with food and seeing if I needed anything. This was one of the lowest points of this far-flung adventure, when I really wanted my own bed, and my own bathroom.
....and another thing - why do they make the anti-diarrhea tablet encased in a plastic covering that a) you don't need to be fighting with as your squeezing your cheeks tight so you can make it to the bathroom and b) you don't have the strength to open because you so weak from not having anything in your system? Well on that happy note-I'm going back to school.

Construction - Indonesian Style Part Two

Our new school building has been occupied for approximately two weeks. Well in that short time, it’s beginning to fall apart.
First, as I have already mentioned there are no building inspections, and no codes. Therefore, many things were not put together properly, or not constructed at all. For example, the roof, or lack there of. We have a three story building with no roof. (They ran out of money). For the first time in six weeks we had rain – steady through Saturday night into mid morning on Sunday. I actually enjoyed hearing the rain, and I could smell the wet dirt through the screens on the walls at my house.
Foolish me- when I arrived at 6:00 am on Monday (August 11th) my classroom had been rained upon. The walls were dripping wet, the computers had gotten water in them, papers, chairs, and desks were wet. It appears that the 3rd floor – which is not covered, has drains along the perimeter of the floor. However, the “slight” problem is that the floor is not flat and the water pooled in different locations and then dripped through the floor tiles.
The library took the brunt of the rain. We have very limited books for the students. They were drenched. The principal and her family put newspaper between the pages of the soggy books. Some books were able to be salvaged – although warped. Others had to be thrown out. It broke my heart. Monday was a very discouraging day for me. I’m not sure what made me sadder, the lack of forethought or the limited supplies damaged irretrievably.

I’m sleeping with a stranger – and it’s a woman!

Now that I’ve got your attention- let me explain.
Anna got married last Monday (August 4th) Her mother flew in from Charlottesville, VA to attend her daughter’s wedding. The wedding occurred near Eru’s mother’s house, about two hours from here. It was in the mountains at a resort. Here, you are only given two days off for your wedding, so Anna and her husband came back to Anna’s house to live. Her mother didn’t want to be the third wheel, so I said she could certainly stay with me. Anna brought her over Tuesday night and neglected to introduce us – other than saying this is my mom. Anna stayed long enough to show me pictures of her wedding and then she and her husband headed out. We had a nice chat, then we went to bed. Anna’s mother slept in my spacious bed- since it’s the only room with air conditioning and she would be eaten alive by mosquitoes otherwise. As I’m laying there it dawned on me that I had no idea what this woman’s name was! Finally the next morning I said to her- now that we’ve slept together I guess I should learn your name. For all those inquiring minds – it’s Cinda, short for Lucinda.
She’s here until the 18th of August and will be with me off and on until then.

Olympics at Sekolah Pelita Bangsa

As part of our social studies unit we focused on the upcoming summer Olympics. Many of the children had no idea what the Olympics are or what were the events, or even that it is relatively close to them. As a culminating activity I created some unique Olympic events. The children were great sports and appreciated the shiny stickers I gave out instead of medals.
Some of our events were "standing broad stretch", peanut relay race, javelin throw (two plastics straws stapled together and then thrown), discus throw (Styrofoam plates taped together and also thrown) as well as the shot put (aluminum foil bunched up and thrown).
I'm happy to report - no one got hurt and no one cried (unlike the real Olympics!)

Opening Ceremonies

Sorry it's so dark, but I thought you would enjoy this parade of "athletes" from around the globe. Each child had to pick a country, color the flag and then we paraded around as we began our own Olympics

Our version of the high jump

Here is Bryan - dropping a plastic chip into a container. Call me crazy but I didn't think the children should try high jumping on ceramic tile!

I am a winner!

Alvian, or Alfian, or Richard (his actual) name is one of my more lively second graders. He loves life and is so thrilled to be an "athlete" in our Olympics.

He is the winner that has his hands raised on our podium

Victorious

I know it's a little dark - but I wanted to show you our "winners podium". The gold medalist is standing on a chair. He was so thrilled to finally be there

Our version of kayaking

Alright, so at this time it was getting difficult to come up with comparable Olympic events. I told the children that this was like kayaking. They seemed to enjoy it! These were the finalists.

Myth about dragon fruit

In ancient eastern legends when dragons still roamed the earth, man and beast would do battle for territory. A soldier sent to kill a dragon for his emperor would be aiming to bring back one thing — the prized dragon fruit.
When he thrust his sword into the dragon’s heart, the dragon would breathe out his last fire and also the dragon fruit. This fruit would then be presented to the emperor and the soldier would be revered. The tastiest flesh of the dragon was said to come from his tail, as this is where they believed his fire and fruit was breathed from deep inside his body.
It is said that the emperor’s taste for this delectable flesh is what caused the extinction of the illustrious dragon.

fruit of the week

The Tropical Dragon Fruit is an exotic cactus fruit that is sweet, juicy, and crisp and has a taste reminiscent of pear, kiwi and watermelon. At least that is what is written. I just bought it today and haven't tried it yet. This cactus blooms only at night It has large white fragrant flowers of the typical cactusflower shape, that are often called Moonflower or Queen of the Night.

It's also been called a strawberry pear

Some of my favorite things

Now that my fingers are no longer inflamed from the hot chilies and I had plenty of time to think as I soaked the ten digits in the oil and water I thought I’d send out some of the things that I miss from the States. These are in no particular order.
Besides toilet paper, a flushing toilet, and a hot shower:
Top sheet to the bed. It appears that even in hotels, it’s only the bottom sheet and a quilt
Bath towels. The towels here are between the sizes of a hand towel and a very small bath towel.
Washing machine – with hot water. I don’t know how clean I’m really scrubbing these clothes. Plus it is so time consuming. I could use a laundry service – but they just wash the clothes like me – in a tub with cold water.
Locks on the door that turn counter-clock wise to release and clock-wise to lock. It is the complete opposite here, so I am constantly relocking the door as I attempt to get out!
Air mail postage that only costs about $1.00 for a letter. I’ve sent three letters recently one page each. They each cost approximately $4.00 a piece. But the people are worth it!
A good Caesar salad with a glass of wine. Lettuce, dressing (other than bottled Thousand Island, which is very popular) and wine are very hard to find. Being a predominately Muslim country, there is very little alcohol in Cirebon. In the capital of Jakarta I could find some. But that is a five hour car ride, or a three hour train ride.
Vacuum cleaner. It appears that everything is swept or mopped. The dirt and dust just get moved around.
Stapler the ones here are tiny, hand held ones with tiny staples. They easily jam and can’t handle a class of 22 students.
Half and half for my coffee. The instant coffee is always mixed with coffee mate and then they put in lots of sugar.
Rain it’s been over a month and just one little shower at night the first week I was here. It’s hot and sunny every day. I’m sure when the rainy season comes (November through March) I’ll be missing these sunny days.
Now some of my favorite things that I appreciate here:
Great food stalls virtually on every corner. Along with food vendors walking, riding becak’s or motorcycles through the neighborhood. You never really have to leave your home to eat! And you never really have to cook.
The beautiful colors. The tropical colors are soothing and rich.
The very reasonable prices of local items. For twelve dollars I bought my groceries for the week. Fruits, vegetables, rice, milk and yogurt along with my peanut butter.
The wonderful staff at school. All the teachers and administration have been so very kind to me and are more than happy to help me learn the language.
The exotic fruits and vegetables that I get to sample
The hot sun is actually very pleasant to me. I’ve dreamed about snow already – but I don’t think I will actually miss the winter weather.
The children in my class they are adorable, their smiles are amazing. And like children everywhere, they can be silly and not interested in what I’m trying to teach!
The beauty of the countryside. I’ve not travelled too far as of yet, but just to see the mountains, and the rice paddies is fascinating to me.
I’m sure I will add to both lists as the year progresses.

Martha Stewart of Cirebon

While all of you were sleeping soundly, I decided this Saturday morning to cook. I had all the ingredients I needed to make a rice dish with chilies. So after boiling the water for my laundry I decided to get down to serious cooking. I had a variety of chilies from the traditional market and I removed the seeds and chopped the chilies very finely. About twenty minutes later my finger tips were burning. Not just five mind you, but all ten! They were bright red and the pain was excruciating. I went into my medical supply bag, and low and behold – nothing for burns. I have plenty of mosquito repellent, antibacterial cream, anti-diarrhea, antacids, band aides, everything but burn cream. I was in tears as I tried to wash it off – no good. I ended up sitting in my tiny, smelly bathroom swishing my hands in the tub. This helped relieve some of the pain. But when it got too intense I ran to my tiny little refrigerator and placed my hands in the freezer section. The plastic wasn’t frozen, but at least it cooled by fingers down somewhat. This “medical” procedure of running to and fro from the freezer to the tub lasted about an hour and a half. I kept thinking – if I had to go to the hospital I would never live this down. But I was afraid that the pain would not subside. The fingers were red and burning. Finally I was able to stay out of the water and the freezer long enough to turn on the computer.
Thank goodness for the internet. I discovered that you can soak the affected areas in vegetable or olive oil. It also said that you must soak for at least one hour to guarantee relief. Having only corn oil – I gave it a shot. The oil caused the burning to become more intense, so I created a system of one hand in the ladle that I use for my bath, and one hand in a bowl of corn oil. I would alternate the hands when the pain was too much in the bowl of oil. It actually felt like the oil had heated up. After an hour and a half of being able to do nothing but alternate hands in the water and oil containers I finally could sense some relief. My fingers are now wrinkly and still burn somewhat, but this is quite manageable. However, I and the entire house smell like the boardwalk – with the vats of oil frying the French fries. The diced chilies are in the frig, I think I’ll just have plain rice tonight, and I’m thankful that there is no toilet paper here- for once!