Sama-sama!

The grocery store that I go to across the street from my dorm is under renovation right now. Everything there is in a different spot than it usually is. It can be a little annoying walking around completely clueless trying to figure out why the crackers are in what I believe to be the paper towel’s rightful spot. But walking around clueless this week made me realize that there was a point in between being clueless when I first arrived here and being clueless now that I actually knew what was going on. For a little while, I had successfully become familiar with this place. I didn’t fully realize it until it changed, but I have actually, in some ways, found a routine and a new normal here.

There is beauty in that routine, but as it sets in, paired with the isolation of my city, I wonder if it will eventually lead to my downfall of feeling a bit bored here. Like I could go out and experience so much more elsewhere instead, especially with the base language skills I’ve developed.

When we had our Darmasiswa orientation, the organizers (very annoyingly over the top) kept saying that we would “fall in love with Indonesia.” I was thinking about that in my moments at the grocery store. Have I fallen in love with Indonesia? Do I love Indonesia, but am not in love with it? Does being comfortable equate love, or does being constantly excited equate love? Do I want the kind of love with Indonesia that is like a hug coming home everyday, or the kind of love that feels like butterflies at the beginning of a relationship?

I do love Indonesia. Of course I’ve known this whole time that I am thankful for it, and I have a lot to learn from it, but I would now also say that I love it. The people here are nicer than anywhere else I’ve ever been in my life. The language is easier to speak than most other places, and I get to connect with locals more - like the old woman that works in the cantin. She gave me two mangoes from her house this week that she cut up and put in a bowl for me, for free. I love the weather here, especially in Malang. I will get to see the sun everyday for 10 months, even if it rains everyday through rainy season, as there are usually some hours of sunshine before or after the rain. Everything is green, and there are so many beautiful landscapes to enjoy. The country is not known for the food, but I’ve found plenty of dishes worth the hype even if the whole cuisine is not.

Then what feels so off here, if I can sift through the qualities of the country and say that I love it? I think the answer lies somewhere around the middle ground of being here for long enough to be immersed, but not long enough to detach from life at home. Things and relationships here are so transient, yet they’re transient for 10 whole months. I feel equally jealous of the backpackers that are passing through and the local Indonesians that “just LOVE Indonesia!” so simply. I think their common denominator might just be avoiding the stomachache that I have had every other day here for four months. Or the pruned hands. As long as we’re just airing everything out.

I decided this routine that I have has to be entirely different than mine in America. My life here was worse when I tried to replicate the one at home rather than just surrender to a new one here. I was just being constantly let down through comparison. This past weekend, I spent my Friday night playing pool (or billiards, if I want to be pretentious and say that that’s what they call it here) and my Saturday night singing karaoke. My friends also went to the club, but I ultimately knew I would feel like it was a let down compared to the going out I like to do at home (sick DJ shows, if I’m being pretentious again) and stayed in my dorm. I thoroughly enjoyed these other activities. I really let something out while singing with my friends, and it’s fun to exist in a culture that embraces activities I think are normally considered a bit more embarrassing at home. Giving some things up leaves room for new things to surprise me.

For the obligatory language/class update, I am actually feeling quite proud of where I am at. This week our final paper and presentation is due, and next week we have our final exam, presentation, and post-test. My final project is on the difference in the drug laws in Indonesia and America and the relationship between drug laws and culture. I had a hard time getting my prescription medication into the country and learned that Indonesia is one of the countries with some of the strictest drug laws. I essentially wrote a policy memo - remember how some things never change? - and I just think it’s so cool I can now do that in another language. Yeah! I’m bragging!

The more interesting part of this final project is the sensitivity in these topics. My teachers warned me I was picking a difficult and heavy topic, and I should choose something easier to discuss, like talking about tourist destinations in America and Indonesia. When I asked if my topic was appropriate for the class, they said “yes, someone even presented on LGBT rights last year.” I was taken aback for a second remembering that a topic for entire classes at my university has become an “even” topic here: people have “even” talked about LGBT rights. When my teacher was correcting my presentation with me today, he said I had to censor a lot of what I said. I can say whatever I want about America, but said I should not talk about the criticisms for the president or government in Indonesia. It’s important these were not just my criticisms, but the criticisms I found online from Indonesian scholars on the topic. It is so funny to me being in a university setting and being told that assessing these policies based on inequalities for different racial groups and socioeconomic statues is “sensitive.” He asked me if it was appropriate for me to mention the statistic I had about disproportionate arrests for people of color possessing drugs than white people in American classrooms, and he was shocked when I said that in American university classrooms, it’s inappropriate to ignore the racial or socioeconomic implications of policies. I of course knew that I am just in criticizing whatever I want about my own culture and have to be careful when discussing other cultures, but I did not expect, in a project about cultural exchange and comparison, to not be able to fully analyze policies or governments.

With more time here, I’ve also started to appreciate the nuances of the language that really make it beautiful and unique. I love that instead of saying “no” when someone asks if you have done something, tried something, eaten something, etc. you say “belum” or “not yet.” There is a possibility you will do that thing, and you aren’t shutting that person down by just saying “no.” When you ask someone how they are, you usually ask “sehat?” which means “healthy?” And the response to “thank you” is not something like “you’re welcome” or “no problem,” but “sama-sama,” or “same.” You just automatically say “thank you” in return.

I love that the language itself feels so positive, they are so polite in everything. Even though it is slightly frustrating when it comes to someone from America - used to complete freedoms - not being able to criticize whatever they want about the government. I’m tired of feeling like everything is negative because I’m a foreigner. Indonesians seem so happy and positive. It feels just tiring at this point that everything about being a foreigner (including sharing experiences with the other international students around me, not just my personal experience) usually centers around culture shock, homesickness, being physically sick from just about everything here, and struggling to communicate our exact thoughts. As mentioned before, this is not a 10 month long “airing of the grievances.” Sometimes communicating in Indonesian automatically censors me to be positive. And it rocks.

Amongst all my frustrations about my program, the language school did at least organize two excursions last month. One trip took us to the beach. It was beautiful and the water was so warm and I was so happy to swim, even in my tshirt and shorts I had to wear over my one-piece swimsuit. We drank coconuts on the beach and splashed around in the water and went kayaking. The water was filled with genuinely so much plastic waste, but it at least enforced our previous unit about the environment! Our other excursion took us to Mount Kawi, a mountain famous for its philosophical and spiritual culture. There is a large population of Chinese immigrants and now Chinese-Indonesian families in this area. The local religion of the indigenous people at Mount Kawi resembles some Chinese religions, so it has become a hub for Chinese/Chinese-Indonesian people to practice their religion. The mountain is believed to be some kind of spiritual portal, so there is a mix of different religions in one area that have made it into more of a philosophical/spiritual place than religious one. Some of the people on our trip are very strict in their own religion, so they did not like the excursion. There were also parts of the tour that were clearly hoaxes, like the fortune telling. After shaking a cup full of sticks and seeing which one falls on the ground first out of the cup, they give you a slip of paper that says your fortunate (let’s ignore the fact that the papers are already printed and therefore the fortunates are already decided). I was just starting to believe in the whole thing, watching my stick hit the floor and feeling an eagerness to get my fortune, when our tour guide looked at the paper originally selected for me and said “no, not this one,” and chose a different one. So either the whole thing is a tourist trap or he is God.

I did feel some higher sense of purpose when I had my dance performance for my dance class last week. I was so nervous for the performance until they put us in the traditional outfits, and I knew everyone would be distracted by the shiny, beautiful fabrics enough to not entirely analyze my dance moves. Understanding the dance and the music and the outfit all together made me really get it, like I had some deeper cultural exchange if I worked on something for seven weeks and had something to show for it. I wasn’t just sitting in my language class, but practicing a skill here to the point of showing it to locals and them feeling respected by my time put into it. It was so fun. I posted some videos to my profile if you would like to see! The performance was for the American program’s closing ceremony. I’m quite sad that a lot of the friends that I’ve made there will be leaving since they were my adventure buddies, but I am curious to see how my imposter syndrome may change now after they are gone, and I am not constantly jealous that they are in some fancy American government-funded program that gives them excursions every week.

But I’ve crated my own immersion and activities. I gave my presentation at the Islamic Boarding School yesterday. It’s gunning for my top favorite activity besides the dance performance. The girls were so energizing, they were screaming when I came in and high-fiving me before I left, acting like I was a celebrity. I’m so thankful that they’re so open to outsiders here. With the premise of the project being that they don’t talk openly about puberty or menstruation, I was excited about their openness to discussing it with me. After my presentation, during the Q&A session, they asked me to describe the difference between different pads and tampons. I had brought some with me just incase they wanted to see, I told them shyly, and they SCREAMED when they said “YAAAA” to show them. I gave a full demonstration on how to use a pad and a tampon. None of them had ever seen a tampon before. There were 250 students. They quite literally OOHed and AAHed and WOWWWWed when they saw the cotton come through the applicator. I really resent the idea that I am here to do anything but take the role of the observer and learn from my experiences, but it was a really special situation to stand there and have 250 people thank me for teaching them something that they didn’t know, that their own parents didn’t teach them. Something that I was taught in a 5th grade class, from my sisters and mom and stepmom, in commercials, and on the instructions sheet inside of the tampon box itself.

My roommate also shared a fun fact this week: one of the reasons that there is so much sugar in the food here is because sugar used to be associated with wealth. Sugar was so expensive that back in olden times, if someone puts a lot of sugar in their tea to sweeten it, they don’t have to consider the extra cost and are therefore wealthy. Wanting to keep this symbol of social status has created an upward trend that has now, unfortunately, led to an alarming climbing rate of diabetes in the country. Somewhere in here there’s a metaphor about needing to learn how to change our ways and adapt to the current norms around us for a healthier, better life. Otherwise, we are stuck in the past, making ourselves unhappier and unhealthier, unable to take criticism for the sake of a better future, etc. Maybe you find the metaphor somewhere here.

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!

There is a belief that if a leaf from this tree at Mount Kawi falls on you, you will become very wealthy. People sit and wait under the tree for the leaves to fall on them and bring them good fortune.

My class <3

Big snail…