Babies, Barack and Sepak Bola

Our last days in Jakarta were spent enjoying some global universals: soccer--or sepak bola--and Barack Obama. One of the ETAs, a perpetually energetic guy named Brian, found an indoor soccer arena near our hotel and organized a mini-soccer tournament for all 44 of us. The idea so thrilled AMINEF that they offered to pay for our one-hour session. We played six 10-minute games--and sweat more than I think anyone has since the Wicked Witch of the West melted into a puddle. It was a blast.

Sweaty victors after the games.

For your viewing pleasure: a 20-second clip from one of the soccer games in which I am--surprise!--smacked in the face with the ball.





Indonesia's most famous American expat, President Obama, lived in Jakarta from ages six to ten. On Friday, six of us set out--with an Obama-Biden yard sign from my collection of campaign gear in hand--to find the elementary school he attended. The taxi drivers weren't exactly sure where the school was, but when I pointed to it on a Lonely Planet map, they said, "Oh, Obama, Obama!" In front of the school, there's a bronze statue of 10 year-old Barry holding a butterfly that says "The future belongs to those who believe in the power of their dreams." (Kind of depressingly, the statue actually had to be moved to the school from a public park due to controversy.)

We left Jakarta on Friday afternoon, which I think most of us were happy about. The city was too chaotic and dirty to feel like home and our Fulbright sessions were mostly bureaucratic or logistical. Part two of our training--three weeks of training in how to speak Bahasa Indonesia and how to teach English--is taking place in Bandung, a Javanese city in the mountains that is much cooler than Jakarta, in both senses of the word. The ride to Bandung was breathtaking; congested city streets gave way to rice paddies and green hills.

We arrived at the Sheraton Hotel in Bandung to glasses of cold lemonade, moist towels for freshening up and what I have to assume was some kind of welcome dance performed by three Indonesian women. This hotel's luxuriousness is a little unsettling; along with balconies and king-size beds, we each get two free pieces of laundry done every day and our own personal French-press coffee makers. And of course there's a gym, an elaborate breakfast buffet, pools and a hot tub, and the Jakarta Post delivered to our rooms every morning.

The hotel courtyard.

Supposedly, all this pampering can be traced back to a State Department rule that forbids us from staying in cheap hotels. It wasn't what any of us were expecting and frankly, seems a little contrary to the entire Fulbright concept. But I just keep reminding myself that in a few weeks, I'll be alone in a one-bedroom apartment in a tiny rural town with only mice and mosquitoes for company, so I'll enjoy the luxury while I can.

And how did we cope with the excessive wealth on our first night in Bandung? About fifteen of us gathered in my room, in the gorgeous batik robes that the hotel provided, to indulge in the pure, unadorned awesomeness that is Babies.

Kelsey, Brandon and I jump for joy.

Coming soon: our weekend on a volcano and first lessons on Bahasa Indonesia and pedagogy.

Pollyphemus, Indo's Own Cyclops

Have you ever given yourself a paper cut in the eyeball? Have you ever given yourself a paper cut in the eyeball during a Fulbright administrative session led by a US Department of State official?

I have.

The official, who was sitting on a stage in front of all 44 ETAs, announced that one person hadn't turned in an important form yet and they needed it immediately. Everyone turned around in their seats, looking for the delinquent ETA, who I suddenly realized was me. Trying to play off my forgetfulness nonchalantly and with an elegant wit, I picked up my form and waved it above my head. Except I didn't raise my arm quite high enough. The next second, I was clutching my eye, laughing and crying, while the rest of the room stared at me in confusion.

Eight hours later, the eyesight in my right eye is still blurry. And I'm starting to wonder if my Fulbright health care covers corneal transplants.


My first two days as an ETA-in-training have been (impaired vision aside) fantastic--interesting, challenging and unexpectedly fun. The flights from the US had the energy and warmth of a family reunion; at each airport, a new group of 20-somethings carrying backpacks and Lonely Planet guides to Indonesia appeared, saying "Hey, I think we're with you!", until by our last flight, almost all 44 of us were together. Along with sharing our near complete ignorance about what we were getting ourselves into, we shared our back stories. For instance:


Nicole, who isn't fazed by non-Western toilets (i.e. holes in the ground) because she lived in Ecuador for a year...


Jack, who took a semester off from school to work for the Obama Campaign during                                                                       the primaries...       





Leif, whose parents named him
and his three siblings--Jason,
Noah and Ariel--after famous
sea-faring figures (can you identify
them?).



AMINEF (the American Indonesian Exchange Foundation) transported us from the Jakarta airport to our lovely 4-star hotel, where the first week of orientation is taking place. I have my own suite, with a bedroom, kitchen and balcony, and an overwhelming view of smog-smothered Jakarta.

The last two days have been filled with information sessions led by various officials in the American and Indonesian governments, as well as former ETAs and ELFs (English Language Fellows). Some of it is dull, some of it is morbidly funny (Paul from the American Consulate said, "Hopefully you won't require any of our mortuary services. But you should know that we do offer them."), most of it is fascinating. I learned how to protect my passport (Ziploc bag), how to deal with dengue fever (sweat it out), which Indonesian dictionary is best (John Echols'), who to report overnight visitors to (the neighborhood warden), when to expect four weeks of vacation from school (December), what "realia" in the classroom is (concrete everyday objects that help teach a lesson)...

And then there's been the more hands-on learning. Venturing into Jakarta to find a computer adapter or even just a cafe is an adventure. My mud-encrusted legs can attest to Jakarta's filthiness--as Lonely Planet says, it's a city that's difficult to like. I was expecting people on the streets to be pushy, but they're unaggressively friendly and seem to get a kick out of calling out "Selamat sore" (good afternoon) in response our hellos. The taxi driver with tiny soccer balls hanging from his rear-view mirror laughed when I started singing Wavin' Flag, and then taught me how to say "I like soccer" ("Saya suka sepakbola"). The people are not difficult to like.

Arriving at the train station on a bicycle-taxi in the rain.

Jakarta's historic district, which is pretty in a peeling, unaffected way.

ETAs Abbey and JT dash across a deathly busy Jakarta road.

More adventures to come soon...

To Boldly Go

Indonesia--an archipelago of 17,508 islands, 242 million people and 719 languages--will be my home for the next nine months. Thanks to an English Teaching Assistantship (ETA) through the Fulbright Program, I will be teaching at a public high school in a small town on the island of Sulawesi from September 2010 to May 2011. Here are two maps to give you a point of reference:

The CIA World Factbook helpfully notes that Indonesia is "slightly less than three times the size of Texas." This makes North Sulawesi, my province, slightly more than half the size of Hawaii.

I'll live and teach in Amurang, a coastal town only 60 km from both the provincial capital and an active (!) volcano.

On August 20, at 9:05 am, I take off from Boston. It will take 48 and a half hours for me to weave my way across the globe to Jakarta. There will be three layovers--Chicago, Tokyo and Singapore--and, I'll bet, not much sleep. The next time I write, I'll be a jet-lagged teacher-in-training, 11 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time.

I hope this blog will offer friends and family a peek into my Indonesian life. Getting internet access may be tricky sometimes, but I plan to post about twice a week. Please don't hesitate to comment on posts--and please, stay in touch.