Please forgive me for not keeping in touch better, I went to Indonesia. There is no more internet in my life. It has been replaced with squatting toilets, bucket sinks(literally a large bucket with a ladle for scooping water, which coincidentally somehow replaces the need for toilet paper, still not too sure about that one..) and a constant fear of crossing the road. I didn't know what to expect when I left for Indonesia, but I'm not really sure how one prepares themselves for an experience so different than anything they've ever dealt with before. Before leaving from the US I compiled a wardrobe of modest office/large Muslim country conservative and appropriate clothing. I was horrified to learn wearing sandals to class/work are considered a sign of laziness and utmost disrespect.
So when Monday rolls around I’m outfitted in my best nice clothes and then my obnoxiously ugly grey and red running shoes and in fact the only close toed shoes I brought. I feel uncomfortably dressy, but worse with the combination business clothes and hiking gear including backpack, I look stupidly ridiculous. Turns out it doesn’t matter, because in WALHI, the environmental NGO that I am working with here in Indonesia, as with most houses in Indonesia one takes their shoes off before stepping inside.
And as I sit here on the floor sweating through my office blouse and swatting at the mosquitoes I try to pretend air conditioning, modern toilets, stoplights, or fans were never invented. Conditions are rough, I don’t know how to use the toilet here, I am the only girl, understand less Bahasa Indonesian than a 2 yr. old, and icing the cake: I have entered a pseudo work environment that more resembles a basic jungle civilization.. I feel sort-of like an urban guerilla, fighting against the injustices of a non-responsive government, rampant capitalism, and environmental pollution/overall degradation, not to mention the compost bin that’s currently being kept in the kitchen.
Needless to say, there is only so long you can pretend you don’t need to use the bathroom. At first, convinced that if I drank no water I might be able to wait until we got home, however lucky I was not—first day on the job 8 am to 9 pm. So I borrowed some house slippers, reminded myself that I come from a family of strong women, and resolved myself to enter the battleground...(keep in mind, this is no regular bathroom belonging to four guys, then factor in developing country plumbing).
Being in Indonesia is a lot about taking the plunge, sometimes you just got to do it, hope to survive, and enjoy the heck out of whatever comes next (this part in no way refers to the bathroom, nothing holds true in that case, but I am a survivor). Because camping in the office can be ridiculously fun, and beats slaving away in a cubicle air-conditioned controlled environment any day, five days a week. Plus squatting’s good for your legs. Perhaps one more reason why Asians are so much more fit than us, because it certainly is not all the rice, trust your source...
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