The Quest For Solitude

Where do you go when you want to find some solitude time on an island that is the second most populated area in the world?  It can be a challenge.  In Jason's case, he usually just tries to close the bedroom door for his solitude while Laura watches the baby but lately he's been heading off to local malls to find a spot in Starbucks or one of the other coffee shops as soon as they open up during the week, when they aren't full of people.  That is because he really has been needing to concentrate in order to work on essay questions for some applications for graduate course work that he would like to take and when he’s at home and hears the baby fussing, he feels like he should turn off the computer and go rescue Laura.

Laura has been so gracious about giving him some hours in the day to do that even when she isn't feeling totally up to par herself because of morning sickness and I've been trying to take up the slack, helping with the baby as I can.  Sometimes I DO sneak off with Jason myself to enjoy some internet connection time and modern conveniences but I generally try to stay around closer to home when she needs me.

Today Jason headed off to a mall which I hadn't visited before.  It is quite upscale and Jason wanted me to assure you all that he doesn't frequent this mall on a regular basis.  He only went there to try to squeeze in some work time on those applications.  Laura and I stayed home in the morning and then took an angkut to the vicinity of the mall to meet up with him for lunch.

Jason had told Laura about a shortcut he had found from the point where the angkut drops you off to where the mall is located so Laura and I set off through a kampung's winding passageways.  Oh, my!

I have to tell you that I am from the Great Plains area in the Midwest. On my grandparents' farm, where I spent every summer, you could step out on the front porch and look out over a wide rolling prairie as far as the eye can see.  The vista was dotted with groves here and there which surrounded farm houses and outbuildings and tall grain elevators marked the town of Lismore, two miles away.  Nothing else marred my solitude.  I could sit under the old pine trees by the side of the road and watch the wind ruffle the grain in the fields.  The mooing of cows would occasionally carry on the breeze and the whistle of the freight train cutting through pastures might greet me but other than that, it was the perfect environment for someone who enjoys quiet.

A kampung is just not the kind of place where a prairie gal is going to feel comfortable.  Today we twisted and turned so much that I had no idea which direction we were going.  Sometimes we came to dead ends and had to ask people standing nearby which way we should go.  They were quite happy to give us directions even though they all seemed quite surprised to see two foreign women walking in their area.  I was really starting to feel claustrophobic in some spots where the buildings were so close together that it was as dark as night.  Jason's shortcuts have a way of really challenging my sense of security.  However, we finally made it up a set of stone steps carved between two walls and found ourselves on a main road looking across at the mall entrance.

This mall had quite the selection of stores.  There was a Marks and Spencer, which I hadn't been to since I was in London some years ago.  There were upscale fashion stores, lots of different restaurants, including an Australian Pancake House where we had lunch (and I had maple syrup which I haven't had for ages, it seems), and there was even a Cold Stone Creamery. 

We popped into one store which is similar to our K-Marts in the States and as we came out, Laura pointed out a shop across the way where you could go to have fish nibble the dry skin off your feet.  No thanks!

As we were heading out, we stopped at one small food area so Jason and Laura could pick up some food to go.  To our delight, there were a bunch of big "snowmen" set up in the concourse with some type of fake snow pellets sprinkled around them.  Children were running around and through the display, laughing delightedly.  One small child plopped down and was enthusiastically making a "snow angel."  We let Mika play in the "snow" for a few minutes and then she tired of that and decided that she would rather head over to the escalator.  She kept her momma hopping as she pointed again and again to "walk" that direction.  I think she would have crawled onto the thing and ridden it up to the next floor if we had let her.

When we finally made it out of the mall, we could not find a taxi no matter what we tried.  Jason suggested that we head back through the kampung shortcut and try to find a taxi on the other side of the area.  That's just what we did.  Surely I should have earned my honorary "mountain goat" status today because I really did my fair share of scrambling over loose rocks, up and down steep stairways, over curbs, and across potholes and small ditches.  Again we had no luck finding a taxi so we ended up flagging another angkut and riding it back to our neighborhood where we hoofed it the rest of the way. 

As we walked in the door, I told Jason, "If you don't mind, I'm going to go take off my shoes, grab a diet coke, put my feet up and read and that's about all I'm going to be able to manage for awhile."  That's exactly what I did.  I even shut my bedroom door.  It was a blissful forty-five minutes of solitude.

The Inertia of the Tropics

When I was a teenager, I was captivated by the TV show "Adventures in Paradise."   The  episodes were was set in Tahiti and it seemed to me that this was certainly the place to go once I was free from the confines of my parents' supervision.  Of course, the fact that the star of the show was Gardiner McKay and that he was VERY easy on the eyes could have played a big part in my opinion.  Nevertheless, I turned my Midwestern bedroom into my idea of a South Seas bungalow and I listened to Hawaiian ukele music a LOT.  It's a wonder that our neighbors survived my "Red Sails Over the Sunset" phase with their sanity intact.   My mother thanked her lucky stars when I discovered Rudolph Nureyev and switched into my Russian phase.  My dad just spent a lot of time in his recliner downstairs with the TV volume turned up. 

Since I grew up in Michigan and Minnesota, I certainly had no first-hand experience with life in the tropics.  In fact, it wasn't until I was the mother of two small children and living in Charleston, South Carolina that I first came face-to-face with oppressive heat and humidity.  I remember the first  summer that we lived there.  I would get up in the morning, shower, dress, and then walk outside to the curb to get the morning paper.  The curb was maybe three car-lengths from our front door.  By the time I would get back inside our air-conditioned house, I would be hot, sticky, sweaty and ready to shower again.  Ugh!  How did anyone get anything done in that state in the summer?  I guess I gradually got acclimated to the climate because by the second summer there, it didn't feel quite as oppressive.

Fast forward to my time here in Indonesia.  Mentally I know that it is January and it is cold back home.  I also know that I HATE winter.  However, sitting in a non-airconditioned house here in Bandung has me yearning for some cold air.  Mind you, this is one of the cooler areas of Java.  At least we had air-conditioning in Jakarta.  But once you stepped outside, Jakarta was stifling unless there was a nice breeze.  I can definitely understand why you see so many people sitting in the shade during the heat of the day here.  Who has the energy to do anything else?  The heat is just draining. 

Here in the kampung, you'll see people sitting on their porches or on benches along the alleys in the heat of the day just resting or visiting with neighbors.  In Jakarta, I noticed lots of little stands/benches with thatched roofs over them along the roads and people sitting cross-legged on them just resting.  Of course there are the modern office buildings with air-conditioning and work goes on in these just like it does in New York or Philadelphia.  But for those who don't have the benefit of air-conditioning, there is a definite rhythm to work in the tropics.

Honestly, I go to bed here at night and the sweat is just trickling down my torso.  Gosh, I know that's not a very genteel thing to admit but it's the truth.  I wake up with a dull headache and I'm sure it's from the heat and the fact that I've slept poorly.  That headache is usually lurking just below the surface most of the day as I try to find a spot where there is a bit of a breeze.  I have to make a conscious effort to drink, drink, drink fluids throughout the day to avoid dehydration but since ice cubes are a luxury at the house, I find it hard to find lukewarm water very refreshing.  I also don't enjoy fishing the occasional ant out of my glass so I know I don't drink as much as I should and that also contributes to the headaches.

I can see where it would be easy to come away from a  trip to the tropics with a stereotype of people who are somewhat lazy.  Believe me, once you've spent a decent amount of time living in a climate like this without air conditioning, you have a much better understanding of the lifestyle.  I am realizing more and more that 1.  The tropics....Tahiti or otherwise....are not for me.  2.  People who live in the tropics are not lazy.  They have just learned to adjust their pace of life to what is sustainable within the constraints of the climate.  3.  Those living in poverty in a hot climate have an even greater challenge since they must cope without the conveniences that we take for granted such as air conditioning, washing machines and dryers, microwaves, even modern showers.  4.  Last, but not least, I am ready for a good snowstorm but NOT before I am safely back home in the States.

Wildlife in the Kampung

The other day I asked my son why there didn't seem to be many dogs running around the kampung.  He told me that Muslims believed that dogs were unclean animals and so you wouldn't tend to see many dogs around a Muslim community.  Ah, that explained it.  Although our Fresca, being a pure white powder puff type of a dog might defy the "unclean" definition of a dog.  However, that got me to thinking that you might enjoy hearing about the type of animals that I've seen in the kampung here and in Jakarta.

Can you see the animal that is on this rooftop?  It's a pesky rooster.  Those roosters are the bane of my existence here.  They start crowing around 3:45 a.m.  No kidding!

 This morning I looked out on our front stoop and here was this big brute parading back and forth in front of our door.  This has got to be one of the biggest roosters I've seen in a long time.  He even had the nerve to poo on our front doormat.  Where's a hatchet when I need one?

I grabbed my camera and ran out the door to get his picture.  Jason remarked as I was running past him, "I can't believe the things you are afraid of and the things you aren't afraid of.  I'm terrified of chickens."

"Oh, heck, Jason," I replied.  "I grew up around chickens.  They don't bother me.  Don't forget.  I took a poultry science class in college and had to manhandle over 60 hens, pulling them out of cages, flipping them upside down and handling them to judge whether or not they'd be good layers.  Chickens don't bother me."

This guy obviously likes our front stoop because it sits up high overlooking the rest of the kampung and he can survey his harem from up here.  We passed one of his hens the other day when we were returning from Jakarta.  She had several little chicks clustered around her.  Funny thing....the hens are all pretty scrawny things here but the roosters are fairly plump.  Guess we know who does the hard work.

Neighbor's laundry drying on the fence rail.

In addition to chickens, I've seen a fair amount of cats in the kampung but most are missing parts of their tails and/or bits of their ears.  It's not an easy life for a cat here.  I hear lots of cat fights in the night.  I wouldn't even be surprised if cats and rats don't go at it at night and the cats don't occasionally come out on the losing end.  Those rats are pretty big.  The other day, Jason grabbed my arm as we were walking through a kampung to keep me from stepping on a big dead rat on the side of the road.  Ugh!

View of laundry from my bedroom window

 That's about all I've noticed for animals.  Oh wait, I have seen bird cages hanging up by some homes and by the entrances to some shops.  I'm not entirely sure if the ones by the shops are pets or are waiting for someone to buy them for food.  I don't think I want to know.

Hooray for Care Packages

There was great rejoicing today in Bandung!  When Jason went over to the language school to renew their visas for the next term of study, he called to tell Laura that the care package from her parents had arrived at the school.  Oh, boy!  Laura has been eagerly awaiting that package.  For one thing, she knew it was going to have Valentina, her favorite Mexican hot sauce.  It was also going to have a box of Cheerios which she was hoping that Mika would like, since it has been hard to find things that the baby enjoys eating.

When Jason walked in the door with the box, we all let out a cheer...well, everyone except the baby who was busy flinging raisins on the floor and knocking over blocks.  Before you could say "Hallelujah", Laura had the package open and was going through the contents.  She was delighted with everything.

Mika had been half-heartedly eating some popcorn and raisins so Laura opened up the box of Cheerios and set a few out on the coffee table for her to sample.  It was the moment of truth.  Would she like them or would they be one more thing to add to her list of "dislikes"?

By golly, she picked up one and ate it.  Then another one went into her mouth.  Before long, she was pointing at her mother and indicating that she wanted some more.  Hooray!

While Mika was busy eating Cheerios, Laura fixed herself a bowl of chips doused in Valentina.  She looked so happy as she sat there eating them while reading a book on her iTouch.  Valentina does nothing for me although the smell of it DOES clear my sinuses so while I was breathing freely, I took the opportunity to take pictures of Mika eating.  I have an idea for my next little children's book and I'll be using Mika in the illustrations.

If you have any kids living far from home, whether full-grown, in college, missionaries, or otherwise, you might want to consider going out today to do a little shopping for some small treats to put into a package for them.  I have seen firsthand what joy a package from home can bring.

Back to Bandung

We took the train today from Jakarta back to Bandung.  It was raining pretty steadily as we headed off and for most of our journey so my pictures show the rainy window and gray sky but you'll still get a sense of my view from the opposite side of the train from my original trip by train from Jakarta. 

This time I sat on the side that doesn't have the most picturesque view but it still gives you some glimpses of rice fields and small towns as you go through the countryside.

There was even a chance to glimpse the small village version of rush-hour traffic motorcycle style.

When we started out, we had four seats in two rows, one behind the other.   Jason was able to swing one row of seats around so that we sat face-to-face.

That worked out well.  I was also delighted to discover that the Australian TV show that's a version of our old "Candid Camera" show was playing on the trip.

Jason and I love that show and we laughed and laughed at the antics on the screen.  Laura and our friend, Anna said that just watching our faces and reactions was better than watching the show.

When we finally arrived at the Bandung train station, Jason manhandled all the luggage out of the overhead rack and we all grabbed the bags that we were responsible for and headed down to the exit.  Surprise, surprise.  It was a big drop with NO steps to the platform.  I tried several times to make the big step down but finally had to settle for sitting on my bottom and siding off to the platform.  Then I turned around to give Laura, our expectant mother, a hand.  She had the baby and several bags as well.  As I was helping her down, the train started moving.  Oh my, she hustled and made it to the platform.   However, by then the train had picked up speed and was going out of the station with Jason and two of our big suitcases still on board.  What to do?

I'll tell you, that was a helpless feeling.  I don't know how he got off but apparently he must have thrown the bags off and leaped off as well because the next thing I knew, he was coming back our way.  Then we stood on this narrow strip of cement between two moving trains until they finally cleared out and we were able to make our way across track after track before me got to the station.  I was NOT amused.  But we made it back to the house in the kampung ok.  I had forgotten how noisy it is here.  How COULD I forget? 
Bless Ibu Uiz's heart!  She had baked banana bread and a carrot cake for us, plus roasted peanuts for us and popped some popcorn as well.  She had also put a plate of cut-up fruit in the fridge and another container of fried noodles for our dinner.  I'll tell you, she is a gem! 

Training a Shopper

Jason was kind enough to take me over to one of the big Jakarta department stores that has a floor of just batik clothes so that I could do a little shopping.  We took Mika along with us to give Laura a litle break. 
Mika is always a crowd-pleaser wherever we go and this time around was no exception.  As soon as I started browsing, the clerks descended on Jason and whisked the baby out of his arms.  We'd hear cries of "Mika, Mika" and then lots of spoken Indonesian as the clerks would all vie for her attention.  It was like having free babysitting.  We'd look up and see her popping up in different parts of the women's wear section being held by whomever was the lucky one who was able to wrest her away from the previous clerk.
Jason found a cute little outfit in batik for Mika (well, he had LOTS of help from the enthusiastic clerks) and we couldn't resist adding it to the pile.  I also found two shirts for the Commander.

Finding batik shirts for myself was harder.  Large sizes is apparently a foreign concept in Indonesia.  Even their XL sizes looked like about a size 12 in our Western sizing.  Finally after much pantomiming, they took me over to a section where there were some larger sizes and I was able to find several shirts that should work for me.  In fact, I was just getting into my shopping stride when the baby started to get fussy and Jason announced that we really should start heading back.  Oh, pooh!

We got back and Jason whisked the baby into the back bedroom to change her into the little batik outfit to surprise Laura.  When he brought her out, we all "oohed and ahhed" and laughed delightedly upon which she burst into tears.  We've discovered that when we all laugh at once at something she does, she apparently gets her feelings hurt even if it was something cute.  So we all had to reassure her that we weren't laughing AT her.
I decided that it might be wise to start her training as a shopper now to help build up her endurance in stores.

There happened to be a pile of small denomination currency sitting in the apartment and little Mika just naturally gravitated to it.  The girl's a natural, I tell you!

She loved to put the whole pile in her hands and if one would drop out then she'd have to crouch down and try to stuff it back in with the rest of the bunch.

Even when she was crawling down the hallway after her momma, she'd have one or two bills clutched in one hand.  You never know when a bargain might appear, right?

Yes, I think this little one is going to be a natural-born shopper.  She was probably just cranky at the department store because noone would put her down and let her look at the merchandise.  I mean, there were LOTS of sales posted on that floor.

I was cranky, too, that I couldn't look at them all.  However, when I went to pay the bill, my dear son took it from me and said, "Merry Christmas."  And that, my friends, is the absolute BEST way to shop......find what you want and then have someone else pay for it.  Have I told you that I have the best son in the whole world? 

Attending Church in Indonesia

Jason and I headed over to the local church today.  It's an Indonesian Baptist church and I'd say there were about 80 - 100 people there today.  When we walked in, the first folks we saw were friends of Jason and Laura.  Jason introduced me and I shook hands and then one of Jason's friends asked where Laura was.  She had stayed home because she was feeling sick with morning sickness but Jason wasn't sure if she knew that Laura is expecting so he told her the news.

"By who?" she asked in astonishment.

We both looked at her and then looked at each other.  I started to laugh and clapped Jason on the back as I said, "Well, I'm pretty sure it's Jason."

She got all flustered and realized her English error immediately.  "No, by WHAT, I meant.  How did you announce the news?" she asked.

"It was on Facebook," Jason said.

"Ah, that explains it.  I haven't opened Facebook in awhile," she replied.

It turned out that one of the friends was going to be preaching this morning so he said to Jason, "You be sure to translate for your mother."

The service started with choruses, quite a few of which were familiar to me (the tunes, not the words obviously because those were in Indonesian).  I enjoyed singing them.  I think it must be easier to pronounce Bahasa Indonesia when you are singing the words than when you are speaking it in conversation....maybe because you are drawing out each word longer and there is the rhythm of the music involved, too.

There were various prayers before the sermon but I was never quite sure when they started except suddenly I'd notice that people had their heads bowed so then I'd listen intently and the end would usually involve the words "hallelujah" and "amen."

The offering was taken but then, after the offering was brought back up to the front suddenly quite a few people got up out of their seats and started up to the front.

"What are they doing now?" I asked Jason.

"I think this must be a special offering," he answered.  "Maybe it's for the guest pastor."

The sermon was about how man makes lots of plans throughout the course of the year but really, if God isn't put first when those plans are made, then it is all foolishness and the height of arrogance.  At least, that's what I think it was about.  I also think I heard the pastor referring to Morocco, Bali, the concept of "enshallah" AND Bon Jovi at points within the sermon so I am not entirely sure that I  REALLY knew what he was talking about.  Jason interpreted as best he could but the pastor was talking really quickly.  I'll tell you one thing, I really hope that our church, which currently is without a pastor, can find a pastor like the pastor that spoke today.  He spoke with such passion for the Word.  I told him that, too, when I left and I meant it.

After the service, Jason's friend who had misspoke about the pregnancy, came over and we were chatting.  "You know, your son said that you were, well, I can't say the word because it is impolite so I'm putting it in quotes, (at which point she made quote motions in the air) but I don't think you are at all," she said.

I didn't have a clue what she was talking about.  Jason looked at her and said, "What?"

"You know," she said.  "I'm not going to mention the word because it is impolite but you put it on Facebook.
  See, I'm just putting it in quotes.  You know....the 'c' word."

Jason and I looked at each other.  I wondered what in the world he had said about me
Jason said to her, "Why don't you say it in Indonesian.  Are you talking about 'gila'?"

"Yes," she said.  "That's what your son said that you were but I don't think you are like that at all."

Jason turned to me and said, "Oh, I said up on Facebook that sometimes my mom can be kind of crazy."

"Oh," I said brightly, "it's true. I am."

She looked at me horrified and Jason quickly jumped into the conversation.

"Well, I think 'crazy' means something a little different in English than it does in Indonesian," he assured her.  "It can mean 'funny' or a little 'nutty' in English."

"Maybe a better word to describe me would be 'eccentric'", I suggested.

She looked at me with a look that told me she wasn't entirely convinced that this was a big improvement.  Ah, the joys of intercultural communication!

They're invited over for lunch and I'm hoping that the thought of having lunch with a "crazy" woman won't keep them away.  I have promised to be on my best behavior.  No swinging on the chandeliers when they arrive.  (Just kidding ----but you knew that, right? )    I may be eccentric but I'm not nuts.

We Visit a Jakarta Kampung

Today was the day that we headed off to visit the kampung that Jason and Laura lived in before they moved to Bandung to attend the language school there.  Our friend, Lina,who went to Lombok with us, was having us over for lunch.  She lives in this kampung as well as friends from the Netherlands, Hans and Rietje.  They were back in Europe visiting family so I wasn't able to meet them but did get to see the home that they live in.   Laura and Jason also wanted to spend some time visiting their former neighbors, whom they hadn't seen in  a couple months.

We took a taxi to the general area and walked into the kampung.  We hadn't gotten very far when we began to hear cries of "Mika, Mika."  Little Mika is quite the celebrity in the kampung.  She was a real favorite when the kids lived there and she is still one popular baby.  The neighborhood children spotted her first and came running.  They remembered their manners though.  They all came up to me first and clasped my hand and then brought it to their foreheads, a gesture of respect.  Then they clustered around Mika, touching her little face, which is like our equivalent of pinching a child's cheek to say they are so cute.

Hans and Rietje's neighbor came out of her house and greeted us all warmly and invited us into her home.  She graciously brought us cold drinks and set out a tin of biscuits (cookies) as well as snack crackers.  We sat on the floor (having shed our shoes at the door) and the little children were all clustered in the doorway.  Periodically this lovely lady would shoo the children outside but soon they would be coming in once more.  They were just enchanted by Mika and watching us all.

Lina arrived to gently extract us and bring us along to her home so we said our good-byes and continued through the kampung.  Oh, my......I would be SO lost if I had to try to find my way to Lina's house.  There were so many twists and turns.  Jason wanted to know if I wanted to go by the Dengue House, as they call the first house they had rented (where Laura caught Dengue Fever) but I told him "no" because really, I had to watch where I was walking so carefully to avoid twisting an ankle or falling in a sewage channel that I wouldn't have been able to really look up and see much unless we were just standing still.

We met one more group of neighbors before arriving at Lina's home.  This was a mother of about my age and her two daughters and their young children.  Yuni, the one daughter, spoke some English and was just delightful.  The children (really, all the children I met) are beautiful children.....so lovely, or in the case of the boys, very handsome young fellows.  The adults remarked how Mika had lost weight since they had last seen her.  Mika is definitely more wiry than the other babies near her age.  One person remarked as we passed, "Such blue eyes."

Lina's house has a living room, a kitchen area with a squatty potty area off the kitchen and steps going upstairs where there are two bedrooms.  The living room actually had a little sofa which was heaven since I didn't have to sit on the floor.  Lina had a gentleman in the neighborhood make a special screen door and a screen to go over her window for her to help keep the mosquitoes out.  What a smart idea. 

The whole time we were visiting, neighborhood children clustered outside the door, calling to Mika.  She had her own little fan club.  They were all trying to entice her to come over to the door.  Their faces would be pressed to the screen as they waited to catch a glimpse of Mika.

We had a nice meal of a chicken pasta salad with vegetables prepared by Lina and even had ice cream for dessert.  What a great treat!

After dinner, Lina started washing the dishes and then Jason took over.  Apparently you do them in the squatty potty area.  I told Lina that I'd help with the dishes as long as I didn't have to set foot in the squatty potty room.  In fact, I stopped drinking my juice early on in my meal once I realized that if I had to go to the bathroom, the squatty potty was going to be it.  No thanks!  I'd hold out until I got back to the apartment. 
So I became the designated dish dryer.

Jason put the clean dishes in a tub and set them on the potty room stoop.  I took the tub and brought it over to the work table where I dried the dishes.  It was a workable system.

I peeked upstairs so that I could see where Lina sleeps.  I told her that it wasn't that different from climbing up into the haymow of our old barn on the farm.  The big difference was that there was no hay up there and I didn't have to worry about falling through the floor.  There were also no chickens up there although Lina said that this could probably be arranged, if I really wanted to feel at home.

We headed home in the early afternoon.  Jason and Laura (and probably Mika) will be heading back there early this coming week to spend more time visiting with their neighbors before we head back to Bandung. 
I'm glad that I had the chance to see where they had been living and to meet some of the people they've been blogging about.  Their neighbors were very gracious and welcoming.  Hopefully this little tour of the kampung has given you a better idea of the area the kids have been living in while in Jakarta as well.

So THIS is How it Feels

Today Jason decided that he and I would head off to the local Immigration office for our district to apply for my visa extension.  Normally a tourist can enter Indonesia on a 30 day tourist visa.  That's what I have.  However, my flight back puts me in this country for about 36 days.  It WOULD have worked out correctly if our original plans to meet up in Bangkok had worked out but when Jason and Laura changed their travel plans and flew to Bangkok earlier, that made me have to cancel the Thailand portion of my travel which put me in Indonesia for longer than the 30 days on a normal visa.  However, Jason assured me that I should have no problem asking for an extension.

We left bright and early, catching a taxi to the main road where we then walked up and down a series of metal walkways and overpasses to catch a bus.  What luck!  No sooner had we paid for our tickets and entered the waiting area then the bus we needed pulled up AND there were plenty of seats on it.  Jason assured me that this was highly unusual because usually you had to stand up, crammed closely together and gripping one of the handholds.  Yay, us!

Jason had never traveled to this part of Jakarta before so we both were looking at the surroundings with interest until finally we saw a sign that said "Immigration" and we told the bus attendant that this was the stop we wanted.  Off we hopped.

We looked around for an official-looking building.  Nothing seemed to fit the bill.  Jason stopped a passerby and asked him if he could tell us where to find the immigration office.  He pointed to a vacant lot with dirt-moving equipment parked in it.  Oh, oh!  This didn't look good. 

"So what's the scoop," I asked Jason.

"Well, see that empty lot there," he replied.  "That's where the Immigration Office used to be but apparently it was moved and the old office building was torn down."

"Do you have any idea where the new office is?" I asked. 

"No, but if we catch a taxi, the driver should know," he answered.

Off we set, walking along the road until I quickly spotted a group of taxis.  Hooray, we just might make it to Immigration after all.

We got in the taxi and Jason conversed with the driver in Bahasa Indonesian.  When he was finished, I said, "Well, what did he say?"

Jason looked at me.  "Um, he either said 'beautiful' or he was saying the name of a street.  I'm not entirely sure," he said.

I stared back at him.  "We are in BIG trouble," I thought.

We pulled off into the traffic.  Our driver drove and drove and I had no idea nor did Jason where in the world we were except for the fact that we were still in Jakarta.   At one point, while sitting at a red light and next to another taxi from the same company, our driver rolled his window down and motioned to the other cab's driver to do the same.  They had a quick conversation until the light turned green and other cars and motorcycles started honking and off we set again. 

"He doesn't know where it is, does he?" I said to Jason.  "I think he was asking the other guy for directions."

We drove further and I could feel a stress headache coming on.  I knew that the offices were going to close early today since it was a Friday and New Year's Eve and I really didn't want to finally get there only to be turned away.  After another 10 to 15 minutes of driving, our driver pulled over to the curb.  Jason piped up, "Immigration Office?"

"Uh, no," I said to Jason.  "I think he's going to ask those other taxi drivers for directions again." 

Sure enough, that's just what he did and when he came back to the cab, I, who do NOT speak Indonesian, can almost tell you with certainty that he said "We're in luck.  It's just down the street."

Off we went again and after about five more minutes of driving, we FINALLY pulled over in front of a building with walls around it and some guards.  This looked like the place plus there was a sign that had words that looked like "immigration" and "visa."

We paid for the taxi and walked into the compound.  Oh, my....my heart leaped into my throat as I stared in astonishment at the throng of people clustered around the entrance.   People were everywhere, sitting on the ground, on the steps into the building, and on the railing beside the steps....all clutching official-looking papers.  We walked past these folks, into the building and into a room that was even more crowded than the entrance.  Again, people were everywhere.  There wasn't a free seat in the place.  All I could think of was, "I'm never going to be seen today."

Jason went over to a side window and asked a gentleman if there was a separate section for "visas on arrival."  Sure enough, he was given some paperwork and directed to the third floor.  We headed up the stairs, which was no mean feat in itself because people were sitting on both sides of the steps as we went up.  However, by the time we reached the third floor, the crowds had thinned and there were actually some free seats in this section.   Hallelujah!

We put our heads together and filled out the form.  There were a few words that Jason was unsure of so he called Laura and she helped us interpret them.  As he explained it, they weren't words that you would use in everyday conversation.  Jason had already had the presence of mind to come prepared with photocopies of my plane ticket and my passport, which was good because we needed those when we went up to the counter and presented our paperwork to the lady behind the glass. 

We explained the situation and she seemed quite agreeable to us getting an extension.  She gave us one more form to fill out, stressing that I was to put down my departure date as January 12 and that the extension would only be until January 12.  Sounded good to me.  I have every intention of making that flight, Lord willing. 
I filled out the final form and gave it back to the clerk.   She asked for my passport, took the forms, and gave us a receipt. 

"Come back on Tuesday morning around 8 am. and you will pay the fee and be given your visa extension.  Then you will wait about an hour and be given back your passport," she told us.

Alrighty then.  So it's one more trip to the Immigration Office this coming week.  I have to admit that I'm a little nervous about my passport being in someone else's hands while I'm in a foreign country but Jason assures me that this is commonplace and I should not worry.  I certainly can empathize with the many people who line up hoping to get work visas to immigrate to our country.  I used to see long lines waiting outside the American Embassy in Morocco and I'd feel sorry for all those people, knowing that there were just a small number of quotas to be filled.

Back to my extension, Jason also tells me that if it had been him, he would have just skipped applying for the extension, shown up at the airport on the day of departure and paid whatever fine they assessed and it would very likely have been much less than I'll end up paying doing it the official way. 

What can I say?  I'm just not wired that way.  If I was on a deserted island and came to an intersection with a stop sign, I would stop and look both ways before crossing it.  It's the way I am.  I'm from good German stock.  We obey rules.  Besides, I would be worried sick the whole rest of my visit if I didn't apply for (and hopefully get) this extension. 

Since I really couldn't take pictures of the throngs at the Immigration Office without risk of offending someone, I thought I'd post pictures of what I ate for lunch today.  It's called Soto Ayam which translates roughly to mean "Chicken Soup." 

It came with half of a hard-boiled egg floating in it, bits of chicken, some diced tomato, cabbage, seasonings, and thin, clear noodles.

Then they brought me a plate with a mound of rice on it, some shrimp chips, and a bit of hot seasoning.  You add the rice to the soup and the seasoning (if you want it hot) and then you can dip the chips in the broth and eat them before they become soggy.

It was pretty good.  I would have added salt and left out the egg.  I found the egg a little off-putting as it bobbed around in the broth. 
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Water Aerobics

Well, we're back in Jakarta.  We flew out of the airport in Lombok yesterday and arrived back in Jakarta without incident.  I didn't even have any children kicking the back of my seat for the flight. 

Once we got back to the team apartment, we were pleasantly surprised to see not one, not two, but three packages had finally been delivered.  It was Christmas all over again.  I had sent one of the boxes back in early November.  I remember laughing when my post office clerk had assured me that it would arrive in 5-10 days.  Sure!  Maybe it would arrive in country in 5-10 days but then it would probably sit in Customs for another 4-5 weeks and then take another 2-3 weeks after that before the kids could pick it up.  Luckily they seem to have finally stumbled on the correct way to request the postman to leave the package with the doorman, instead of taking it back to the post office.  Hooray!

Back to a modern apartment, it seemed that the next logical thing to do would be to start a load of wash in the washing machine.  Right?  But, of course!  That's just what Lina did as I headed off to the bedroom to unpack.  I was partly unpacked when I decided to go to the kitchen for a glass of water.   As I headed out the bedroom door, I stepped into a puddle of water.  Huh?

"Hey, is there supposed to be a bunch of water on the floor here?" I called.

Everyone came running and skidded to a halt.  Then the herd reversed course and thundered over to the laundry room, flung open the door, and someone gasped.

"The drainage hose has been knocked loose and is just laying on the floor," someone called out.  "The water is all draining out right onto the floor."

The kids quickly put the hose back where it was supposed to be - draining into a small squatty potty floor with a drain hole next to the washer.  Lina grabbed the one and only mop and started mopping.  Of course, it wasn't a mop like I'm used to in the States that has a squeezing mechanism built into it.  No, you had to wring it out by hand.  Jason went looking for towels.  Apparently there were only two in the whole apartment.  He started putting those down on the floors and then wringing them out. 

By this time, the water had spread from the laundry room, through the kitchen, into the living room, and down the hallway towards the bedrooms.  I suggested taking a broom and sweeping water into the dust pan.  It had always worked for me back in my childhood home when our basement would regularly flood during the Spring thaws.  Of course, back then we'd use a snow shovel and a broom but the concept was similar.  Jason looked a little skeptical but gave it a try and indeed, it worked swell.

We swept, wrung, and flung water for a good half hour and we certainly all got our aerobic exercise for the day.  Finally I thought we might be able to launch a dove and be reasonably assured that it would continue on its way and not return to us to perch on the refrigerator.  I could see dry land, er, floor.

We didn't get any irate calls from the tenants downstairs so I believe we stemmed the flow in time to avoid any damage  Thank goodness that the floors were tiled and that I had felt that need for a cup of water when I did.

As the kids sank exhaustedly into chairs, I danced around the room.  "Hey, this is great!" I crowed.  "I won't have to spend any time trying to figure out what to blog about tomorrow.  I'll write about the flood.  Anyone want to pose with the mop for me?"

I ducked just in time to avoid the wet towel.