Getting into It!

Every other Friday in my high school biology class, my teacher had “the airing of the grievances.” We would each get a note card to write a named or anonymous note that the teacher would read to the class. They could be good things, random thoughts on our mind, or, mainly, grievances. The airing of the grievances was a safe space to share that we felt tired all the time, didn’t like the readings in our English classes, or were nervous for our upcoming game or performance. It was incredibly cathartic.

But, that’s not what I want for this page. I don’t want to just rant, but rather, leave us all with things to consider and discuss. I want this to foster further connection while I’m so far away by having you ponder the same thoughts that I am. So this week, on the day after my one month anniversary with Malang (everyone say happy anniversary Dimitra and Malang!), I’m going to really Get Into It. Today’s post is all about the small details after actually not running away for some weekends.

That being said, I have a grievance to share! Getting sick is scary. I’ve been bed ridden for the last day and a half, and it’s scary. I thought getting sick at college without my mom there to make me soup was bad enough, but getting sick in a country with a medical system I don’t understand likely due to food that I ate despite being so careful about everything is so much worse. And I’m terrified. So, that is my grievance to share today. I’m thankful I get time to relax and recover and sit and write this post.

Life here has been getting easier everyday. My friend told me there is a guy that delivers 15L water jugs to your dorm, so I no longer have to go to the store everyday to buy 5L jugs and carry them home. I got a mosquito net that reminds me of the fairy princess net I used to have as a kid - and it keeps the mosquitos from buzzing in my ear and keeping me awake all night. I also found a laundromat nearby and no longer have to wash my laundry by hand in my dorm.

I’ve started to really appreciate that this cultural exchange is between more countries than just Indonesia and America. Living in the international dorm, I get to meet people from so many different places and talk about their different backgrounds, too. This past weekend, we had a dorm event called Synergy. Every fall, the dorm hosts Synergy to introduce everyone to each other. People wear their traditional clothing and perform songs and dances from their home countries. Naturally, I taught everyone the Cotton Eye Joe dance (I posted a video of it to my Notes section on my profile so you can see!). It’s funny how these innocent, summer camp-like activities would be considered lame or boring in America, but here, when you really give into it, having a dance party in the dorm is actually really fun. I’m guessing that’s mainly due to the fact that no one drinks here, but people are also so curious about other cultures.

When I was learning Greek in college, I was so anxious to go to class everyday. Almost all the students spoke Greek at home because of their Greek ancestors - these students are called heritage speakers. Technically, I’m a heritage speaker, but I barely knew any Greek, and my pronunciation was terrible. I felt like a poser and never wanted to speak in class. But here, it’s fun to just give it a try all the time. No one in the class is a heritage speaker, and we all bring such different accents to our Indonesian. One day at a cafe, the table next to me just started asking me about myself in Indonesian, and they laughed when I said “pelan-pelan,” or “slow down.” They spoke slowly with me, and my confidence was boosted seeing how just practicing speaking is the most important part of language learning. Shortly after that, an employee of the cafe asked me to be friends and got my phone number so we could practice language exchange. I’m grateful there’s no pressure here like there is with being a heritage speaker, just appreciation for trying.

Indonesia operates on a phenomena they call “rubber time.” Their time is so flexible here, it is like rubber. Things will get done, but in no particular rush. It is not considered rude to be late, and you just have to trust that people will get around to things eventually. My university had a welcome ceremony for all the international students. Naturally, it was three weeks after we got here. At the welcome ceremony, they played the national anthem at the start, and they told us they always play the national anthem at any gathering or meeting because they are a very patriotic country. They described their country as rich and diverse, but they always want more diversity, so they love to welcome international students. I definitely felt welcomed here when an Ibu (older woman) in the student kantin caressed me from my shoulder down to my butt and left her hand sitting there while she called me “cantik,” or “beautiful.”

I try hard not to directly compare America to Indonesia. That seems like the quickest way to unfairly decide that one aspect is better than another, rather than just saying this is how it is and this aspect makes sense in the context of this country. Diversity in America is different: so many different races, ethnicities, religious groups, gender identities, etc. all live in one place. In Indonesia, the diversity mainly comes from the regional differences between people. Their culture is so diverse, yet from my American perspective, I thought diversity came from having parents from different countries or skin color or sexual orientation. Using my American lens on everything can really take away from seeing things for how they are, like seeing how truly diverse a country with nearly only locals living in it still is. The Israel-Palestine conversation in Indonesia is also really interesting. Everyone is overwhelmingly on the side of Palestine, which somehow includes all the international students as well. It’s not considered a political topic here since everyone is of the same opinion. One friend from Uzbekistan told me in the Muslim Friday prayer at home, they pray for the people dying in war. On Friday here, they said in the prayer, “we pray for Palestine to win the war over Israel.” I appreciated getting to hear the perspectives on Indonesia from a foreign perspective as well, not just an American one. I would have never known this about the Friday prayer.

One night a couple of weeks ago my friends and I went to Batu, a mountain city a little north of Malang. The air gets really cold there at night, and I was so happy to get to wear my down jacket. My friends and I drank hot coffee and tea and looked out at the city lights from the towns all around it on the hillsides. It feels nice to have made real friends here, I could not get through this without them. Yet, it’s funny to think about tolerance. I tolerate a lot more differences with them when I think about their different upbringings than I likely would with any new friends I make in the US. One of my friends loves Trump and thinks all the wars in the world would end if he was elected and one of my friends that was a teacher in his home country says they would hit the kids as punishment for not learning well. To some extent, I know that I cannot change their opinions just because my perspectives give me a different moral compass. They’ve developed these opinions for their entire lives. It’s difficult pushing those things aside sometimes, but it is a good lesson in remembering to consider everyone’s own unique background. It also makes me so thankful that my people are my people and that I get to return home to them after this. The people that I get to tell they have terrible opinions when they have them and vice versa!!!

I’ve been getting more involved in the local environment. I visited the local pasar (market) for my groceries last week and even got a piece of free fruit called sawo from one of the stalls. I started volunteering somewhere to speak English with the locals. I learned about Boso Walik’an from them. This is “the backwards language.” Today, some of Boso Walik’an exists in Javanese language. It was created to confuse the Dutch when they were colonizing Indonesia. They just turned some of their words backwards, like “saya” - the word for I/me/my - became “ayas.” Some were even more discrete, like money. Money is green, or “hijau,” so they called money “uajih.” I also learned that there are more than 60 (!!) universities in Malang - my apologies for spreading misinformation previously saying there were only 20. But mainly, I spend my days going to the cafes and working on grad school applications after class. Sometimes I feel guilty, like I am burying myself in work that feels familiar in a setting that feels more familiar rather than just fully assimilating to the different world around me. But, most young students do spend time in the cafes (in the City of Cafes, as previously mentioned), so I like to tell myself that I am just acting as they would.

Funny things still happen everyday that make me giggle. People still ask to take pictures with me a lot, and it’s funny to watch them try to hide taking pictures of me. One man in a cafe saw me look up and pretended he was on a voice call, but I saw his phone on a video call pointed at me before he could. I just laughed and so did he and his table of friends. I tried to use a food ordering app one day to order bakso (or meatballs, a local food) to my dorm, and it arrived with only ONE meatball. Just one. In a huge plastic bag of broth. And that was my dinner. Everyone in the dorm that saw it laughed with me. I tried to go to a DJ set with a new friend that I made, I wanted to find my similar interests from home here. I got there only to realize it was essentially a group of friends all DJing for each other, and not the place for outsiders. There were only two people there when we walked in. It is also incredibly ironic to see girls in hijabs or boys that pray five times a day smoking or drinking in that environment. It felt nice to put on my usual pashmina and sunglasses and try to go to an event, but I think that’s something I’ll just have to look forward to once I’m home. My dear friend Talia (hi Talia I love you) FaceTimed me from a Stevie Nicks concert in Grand Rapids this week, so that gave me my little music fix.

Sometimes, I feel guilty that I am growing so much more thankful for my life at home, like I am constantly one foot out the door here because I know it isn’t my permanent life. I’m worried that this isn’t the takeaway I’m supposed to have. But just like being sick makes you appreciate all the times that you weren’t sick, being here makes me appreciate home even more. I’ll be dancing the Cotton Eye Joe all the way through these next nine months to keep the USA close to me!

Thank you for reading my words. As always, feel free to chat me in the Substack app, email me in response to this, or WhatsApp me as I won’t be getting iMessages here. Sending handshakes from Indonesia (they don’t hug here :/). Pictures below!