Do You Know Obama?

Congratulations!

You will be deprived of my presence no more because I now, Insha'Allah, have Internet in my home. Let me just say that Indonesia in not a Mac friendly country. And while I have thoroughly enjoyed my recent conversion to the dark side, days like yesterday finding me desperately wishing I still had my Dell.  But after four hours, three malls and one minor tear-filled meltdown, I can now waste time on the Internet just like in the old days.

           

So I’ve been in Makassar for almost a week now, and I have to say that I definitely lucked out in the teaching counterpart/ school/ housing location department.  I arrived on a rain-filled Friday afternoon after a moderately terrifying flight on the non-U. S or EU approved Lion Air airline.  When we reached my new home, I was dubious of the fact that is still under some minor construction. But after a weekend of battling bugs and scrubbing all of my floors by hand, I have to say it’s the type of starter home a girl could love.  While I definitely deserve some credit for not spiraling down into a germaphobic coma, my home’s domestic aura is mostly due to two ladies… Ibu Kartini and Ibu Ifa.  I never imagined that shopping for furnishings for my first home would consist of me silently fondling things I liked and then two shrewd Indonesian ladies swooping into to bargain and purchase.  Indonesia is truly a hustler’s country, and the greatest lesson I’ve learned in the past few days is to always ask “ fixed price?”

          Another important lesson is the fact that giving away boxes of panty liners to your fellow female teachers as gifts, is a perfectly respectable and encouraged, post-vacation, teacher’s lounge activity. Also feel free to joke with all of the male teachers about the appearance of said large box of free feminine wares.  Another important lesson is that explaining the concept of African-American is an all but futile enterprise.  So if anyone happens to have a spare DVD set of “Roots” please feel free to send it my way.  Everyone is very confused by the fact that I am American and not white.  As a result a typical conversation usually goes something like…

a.)   Where are you from?

b.)  I’m from America.

c.)   Yes but where are your parents from?

d.)  They are from America.

e.)   No, but where are they from.

f.)    They are from America.

g.)   So why do you look Indian/ Papuan?

And so on.  Seeing as Obama and Opera are really my only two well-known examples, I have somehow perpetuated the lie that I am related to both and that I’m Indian.  I’ve decided to implement Black History month in February to try and rectify the situation.

* Insha’Allah is an Arabic phrase that means something like “God willing”. It’s pretty all-purpose here.