This was my first venture out into the kampong (neighborhood) on what I thought was a picture taking expedition, but turned into language practice. I live in the same area as the language school I am attending. Evidently, the folks around here are used to the white people coming around between 4 – 6 p.m., because I was greeted by everyone with eager faces waiting the days round of questions. In fact, most of them already know what the day’s questions will be. At this point, though, all I have been taught is basically how to greet your neighbors, how to greet good friends you haven’t seen in a long time and how to greet strangers. Not a whole lot of conversation going on at this point. But I was greeted by total strangers with the informal greetings for neighbors that you see on a daily basis. It does boost one’s confidence though to find everyone so eager to talk to you, instead of running into their homes.
So after my first encounter and running out of things to say, I was stopped by two ladies playing ping pong. A little ping pong never hurt, and where my verbal skills lacked hopefully my pitiful playing skills would fill in for some entertainment. Now remember I thought I was going on a photo expedition, so I have a friend’s digital camera with me. I couldn’t decide if I needed the regular lenses or the wide angel, so I decided to bring my purse, fully-loaded, along as a camera bag. As I pick up the ping pong paddle, I set my purse down on the ground, which evidently was a no-no. My new friend, Ibu Linda, shook her head, picked up my purse and handed it to her neighbor, who was standing there. “She hold for you,” she said. I agreed with a pleasant smile on my face at their thoughtfulness as a knot forms in stomach and my Dad’s voice rings in my ear about how this is probably not a safe situation. I tried with all my might to play ping pong, practice language, keep a watchful eye on my bag, pray and pretend like all this was normal all at the same time. In between serves, Ibu Linda and I discussed her children and where I was from. But, I have to admit that the panic and worry got to me and I quickly came up with the word for tomorrow. So with a promise for a rematch tomorrow I reclaimed my purse, and carefully determined that it at least still weighed the same. I also made a pact with myself to leave the purse at home tomorrow. Lessons learned. . . .
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All opinions, perspectives, and beliefs on this blog are solely my own, unless otherwise stated, and do not necessarily reflect the opinions, perspectives, or beliefs of any past or present employer, denomination, church, association, friend, or family member associated with the author.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Language Study – Day 1
Language classes don’t begin until 14 Aug, but the adventure has already begun. Today, I met Sissy, who showed me around the city a bit. Nothing outrageous like falling off a motorbike happened during the morning. But everything unraveled when it came time for me to prepare dinner.
First, came the revelation that I should wash things before use. I discovered that when I poured a precious pouch of Kool-Aid into a pitcher only to discover a neat, now purple, spider web inside. There just was no salvaging that galloon of Kool-Aid.
Then came the making of Mac n Cheese. OK, I cheated a little. I brought this from Singapore. But I actually got some good advice once to bring some food items with you, so you will have something to eat until you find the grocery store and figure out what is and is not available. I was pretty certain that butter and milk were a safe bet. Finding a proper pot on the other hand proved to be a challenge. After determining that rust was not on the list of recommended daily vitamins and minerals, I put the first pot back in the cabinet. My second attempt proved less hazardous to my health, but not exactly a pot you serve guests out of. I did also find in my search a strainer and some Tupperware containers for the leftovers – miracles in my book. Mind you this cabinet is all the size of a small suitcase.
After washing all these dishes it came time to light the stove. I don’t like fire. It makes me really nervous. So, I light my match. Holding the match in my right hand, I turn on the burner with my left hand and cautiously move the match towards the gas. It ignites and suddenly shuts off again. So I repeat. And it happens again. That’s when I realize that after turning on the burner with my left hand, I need to let go of the knob. Right hand lights the fire, brain screams, left hand turns off the fire. I think I got everything working together on the fourth try, and dinner was a success. Except for one last thing . . . are bananas supposed to have crunchy things in them?
First, came the revelation that I should wash things before use. I discovered that when I poured a precious pouch of Kool-Aid into a pitcher only to discover a neat, now purple, spider web inside. There just was no salvaging that galloon of Kool-Aid.
Then came the making of Mac n Cheese. OK, I cheated a little. I brought this from Singapore. But I actually got some good advice once to bring some food items with you, so you will have something to eat until you find the grocery store and figure out what is and is not available. I was pretty certain that butter and milk were a safe bet. Finding a proper pot on the other hand proved to be a challenge. After determining that rust was not on the list of recommended daily vitamins and minerals, I put the first pot back in the cabinet. My second attempt proved less hazardous to my health, but not exactly a pot you serve guests out of. I did also find in my search a strainer and some Tupperware containers for the leftovers – miracles in my book. Mind you this cabinet is all the size of a small suitcase.
After washing all these dishes it came time to light the stove. I don’t like fire. It makes me really nervous. So, I light my match. Holding the match in my right hand, I turn on the burner with my left hand and cautiously move the match towards the gas. It ignites and suddenly shuts off again. So I repeat. And it happens again. That’s when I realize that after turning on the burner with my left hand, I need to let go of the knob. Right hand lights the fire, brain screams, left hand turns off the fire. I think I got everything working together on the fourth try, and dinner was a success. Except for one last thing . . . are bananas supposed to have crunchy things in them?
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