Mister Creep

“Hey Mister!”
As five little voices from the group of punky youngsters get louder, giggling and yelling out any English words they know, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder.
Yup, they’re definitely talking to me. I am the mister here. You see, most school children learn some English in Indonesia and have been taught the polite form of saying hi is “Mister”, regardless of age or sex. Then they have so little chance to practice their English that what little they learn usually falls to the wayside. Until of course they see me, BULE. Then they get really excited. Everyday I walk past greeted by “Halo, how are you? Where you from” at least once, more recently there have been a lot of “Obamas**!” And then of course, my favorite, after I pass by: “something I can’t understand, more I can’t understand BULE, babble babble gibberish” and gaping faces or amazed and sniggering children.

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to looking up from a pair of shoes in the mall and see all eyes trained on me, salesgirls and other customers alike. Or being asked to take countless pictures with other peoples families and even their small children. But I have found being bule an advantage in certain areas as well. Like the time I was ‘camera creeping’ on this little girl in the Borbodur temple, Yogakarta. Everyone else was taking touristy photos of the temple, the temple and themselves, the temple, themselves and us Bules. But I just wanted this picture of the cutest asian girl pouting in her big sunhat. She was full of sass and knew it, and I wanted a picture. I was stealthy, but being bule is never being stealthy enough. As her family walked away I cut around a column to snap a picture of her, only to look up and see her parents staring at me. Oppsy, I was that creep with the camera taking a picture of a strange kid. I snuck around the other side and tried to disappear into the group I was with, therefore trying to appear less than creepy. Only I accidentally walked into pose with a bule fest, and after three pictures with random people squeezing me like we were BFF’s, I started recounting my mortification and creepiness to my friends, halfway through the incident I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the girl with the sunhat’s father!

Speechless, I gaped at him while he addressed in an incomprehensible slew of wild sounds(that Bahasa Indonesia is tricky!). I could only imagine what he was saying to me, I wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. M grabbed my camera, “they want a picture with you” and he pushed me next to the little girl who obviously did not want another picture, and was not the least bit impressed whether I was in it or not. Only in Indonesia would me being caught in the most creepy and awkward situation end with me being treated like a celebrity just for being white, and foreign and a rare, rare sight indeed.


**Side Note: The Obama comment is actually quite funny in and of itself, it seems Indonesia is crawling with “Obama’s children”, a joke that never seems to get old here, and refers to really dark skinned Indonesians who look ‘black’ in a country where white, white skin is considered a beauty ideal. It’s also a bit of Indonesian Obama fever, which interestingly enough is due to Obama’s previously close ties with the nation. The president himself went to elementary school in Jakarta from 1st through 4th when his mom married an Indonesian man. However now that Mr. Obama has postponed his arranged visit to Indonesia three times, I wonder how long Obama fever will be seen as a positive and prideful thing for Indonesia.

Waking Up on the Right Side of the Bed, Wrong Side of the World

Almost 3 whole days of planes and airports, naps in all the wrong time zones and countless breakfasts for dinner, lunches in the middle of the morning, and suddenly I’m standing in-line for immigration, officially in Indonesia. What am I doing here? That’s a question I’m still trying to get my head around. Especially when I find myself standing in the middle of the road with crazy traffic whizzing by in both directions. Which happens uncomfortably often, everyday, minimum 6x a day. In a country with no stoplights, stop signs, and although there is a double white line dividing the road, it’s more symbolic than mandatory. I find it more a suggestion really for where to stand when your trapped on both sides by bikes, cars, and open-sided vans that constitute the public transportation, jammed together. If it weren’t such a terrible idea I would need to close my eyes while crossing the road...

As it is, I really feel like I’m living on the edge, just like the inspirational posters make look so easy and fun. I don’t know about easy, but they may have something about marketing all that fun. Really what could be more fun than pairing up 10 American Students and 10 Indonesian students, currently studying in the US, transporting them to Indonesia, partnering them with different NGO’s based on their interests: economics, public health, education, art, and my personal favorite, the environment. Those 20 students are then dispersed between 3 cities in West Java: Jakarta the capital, Bandung the 3rd largest city in Indonesia, also know as Paris Van Java, and Yogyakarta, considered the spiritual, cultural capital of Indonesia.

I, along with my partner M, are working with Wahana Lingkungan Hidup Indonesia (WALHI) in Bandung, along with 4 others from the program in economic and public health NGOs. M is awesome, he has constantly saved me from myself and my terrible Bahasa Indonesian, getting lost, crossing the street on my own, incomprehensible menus, basically everything except putting my foot in my mouth, which happens at least once during every conversation. Like the time I accidentally asked the housekeeper how much his shirt was instead of where he got it, yeah, that was a big whoops. Possibly the Topping that is the time when I mispronounced a word I thought I knew and miraculously managed to inquire if our new friend was a virgin instead of what he did for a living, that was really awkward.

As for the other four students, they’re pretty awesome too. Who else would help cover you up and pretend you’re sleeping to avoid being charged the bule/tourist price, haggle on your behalf for market food, or alternately pretend you’re all famous to try and get into the club for free? And if I’m going to be stuck in traffic for hours at a time, hike up a huge hill every morning to be in class by 8:00, and try every bizarre and oddly good Indonesian snack, I’m glad it’s with them.

As for WALHI, each day is an adventure. Not just your bathroom variety either. Between the language barrier, treading all the cultural footpaths, and just working in an environmental NGO the works always different, seldom boring. So far I’ve sat in on some pretty cool environmental films, some from Indonesia and others from around the world. Unfortunately the discussions are always in Bahasa Indonesian, no subtitles. Translated a few films to be screened, viewed a peaceful demonstration from a very far, very safe difference, sat in an official/stockholder from several organization meeting for cleaning up the Citarum river (prepare yourself and then click on this link to see some of the issues we’re dealing with:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-460077/Is-worlds-polluted-river.html

).

Too be honest when I first applied to this program, I knew next to nothing about Indonesia. What I’m supposed to be doing is learning about working with NGO’s and West Java’s environmental issues, solutions, attitudes; while participating in and fostering a cultural awareness between Indonesia and the United States. An unbelievably cool program and fantastic summer Internship provided by the Freeman Indonesia Non-Profit Internship Program (FINIP).
So what am I actually doing here? I’m living in the moment (Indo time, or always late/stuck in traffic), learning to pay closer attention to all pronunciation in class, learning countless ways about the West Java Sudanese culture, about the environmental, political, social problems Indonesia faces environmentally, about how satisfying coconut, ginger and chili are in everything I eat. And I am most definitely completely falling madly and chaotically in love with this land of volcanoes and islands that I will be calling rumah saya—my home for 2 months.