So last year I got scared away from typing in a blog. This year I just never got around to starting it back up again. If you know me, you know that I can at times be kinda critical, and kinda negative. I don't want that vibe to be pervasive in my life, so I just stopped writing.
My new goal is to just be a more positive person. I hope to write about that here.
I will still try to be funny though.
So, as time progresses, I will go back and talk about some of the awesome things that have happened so far this year. Hopefully I'll post the first one later tonight. Otherwise, enjoy some of my old negativeness in the meantime.
-Megan
Another year away from home as an English Language Fellow, teaching in Indonesia. --------------------------------- "To while away the idle hours seated before the ink slab, by jotting down whatever trifling thoughts pass through my mind, truly this is a queer and crazy thing to do!" - Yoshida Kenko
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Eat Pray Love
This is a snippet I never finished of a post from last year, but I don't feel like deleting it, so I'll just leave it half done.... enjoy it (kinda).
************************************
So forgive me, this may be all over the place.
I like to go to movies here where I live. Since I moved to my awesome house, I have consistent access to both an internet cafe and a movie theatre. This theatre is $2.50 for a movie and another $3.50 if I want to add a coke and a large popcorn. And before you judge about my large popcorn, it's Indonesian large, which just like their clothing, is really American XS.
Anyway, whenever I come to the mall to use the internet, I usually just run upstairs to see what's playing if I don't have anything really really pressing to do. Low and behold, for some reason, today Eat, Pray, Love was listed. This in itself it a little strange since it's so old, and the movie here are usually relatively new. I still had not seen this movie. I had heard a lot about both the movie and the book. I have to say I was pre-biased against it for a couple of reasons. First, I respect my friend's opinions, and the vast majority of them hated it. Secondly, this movie has a lot to do with why I don't think Ubud in Bali is as cool as it used to be (everyone wants to find themselves/their own version of Mr. Penelope Cruz). Lastly, I'm just never sure if I really like Julia Roberts in anything.
So, I was all set to hate this movie. (This will tell you a little about my life here...that I'm perfectly willing to go watch a movie for 2 hours, that I fully expect to hate.) I pretty much did hate it. I felt a little weird afterwards though. Well, I have been feeling pretty weird a lot lately.
I'm 35. I tell people all the time that I don't really know what happened to the years 23 until now. It's not like the time flew by or anything, there just weren't any particular milestones that stand out as time passed.
************************************
So forgive me, this may be all over the place.
I like to go to movies here where I live. Since I moved to my awesome house, I have consistent access to both an internet cafe and a movie theatre. This theatre is $2.50 for a movie and another $3.50 if I want to add a coke and a large popcorn. And before you judge about my large popcorn, it's Indonesian large, which just like their clothing, is really American XS.
Anyway, whenever I come to the mall to use the internet, I usually just run upstairs to see what's playing if I don't have anything really really pressing to do. Low and behold, for some reason, today Eat, Pray, Love was listed. This in itself it a little strange since it's so old, and the movie here are usually relatively new. I still had not seen this movie. I had heard a lot about both the movie and the book. I have to say I was pre-biased against it for a couple of reasons. First, I respect my friend's opinions, and the vast majority of them hated it. Secondly, this movie has a lot to do with why I don't think Ubud in Bali is as cool as it used to be (everyone wants to find themselves/their own version of Mr. Penelope Cruz). Lastly, I'm just never sure if I really like Julia Roberts in anything.
So, I was all set to hate this movie. (This will tell you a little about my life here...that I'm perfectly willing to go watch a movie for 2 hours, that I fully expect to hate.) I pretty much did hate it. I felt a little weird afterwards though. Well, I have been feeling pretty weird a lot lately.
I'm 35. I tell people all the time that I don't really know what happened to the years 23 until now. It's not like the time flew by or anything, there just weren't any particular milestones that stand out as time passed.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Kids say the darndest things.
This is a post from last year ... around March specifically.
There is pretty much only one thing that really, and I mean REALLY bothers me while I've been living here.
Let's stop with that for a moment though, and go back to it later. Things have been pretty OK lately. I know it's more than half of the time that I'll be here gone, but in reality, it's really just over 60/40. Feels more like I only have 1 month left though. I'm pretty much loving my life. I have a sweet teaching schedule, and my kids worship the ground I walk on. I mean, come on, who doesn't like a little hero worship every once in a while to to feel good about themselves, especially when living on your own abroad?
I get to dive a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I really like it. It is a nice "world" to belong to. Besides the crappy vibe at the dive resort on Pulau Weh, every other place I've been, and person I've met has been pretty awesome. It's like an Ultimate Frisbee community, but in the water. Age, social status, don't really matter. Just a love of the same thing.
Getting back to loving my life. It's paradise here. I live near the coast on a tropical island. It's gorgeous. I have the absolute best house in the entire country (my humble opinion). I have a cool motorcycle. I have some cool new friends that are ALMOST my age. Or, they are the age I forget that I'm not anymore. It's sunny almost every day. It also rains almost every day. It's lush and beautiful. It's hilly, and the roads are curvy. I have the most beautiful commute in the world, I think. It's about an hour. But instead of sitting on the Kennedy in gridlock, I can just look out the window and smile. The taxi drivers think I'm strange, because I'm evidently the only foreigner that doesn't insist on having the windows closed and the AC on. If it isn't pouring on me, I'm happy with the breeze. Or, I can pop in my Learning Indonesian lessons on my iPod, and try and be studious. Usually it's just music though, to relax. You know, from my horribly stressful life.
So, it was on a day like this, during my gorgeous commute, when I was reminded yet again about the one thing I TRULY don't like here. Kids pointing at me and calling me "bule".
Well, first of all, kids aren't my favorite things in the whole world to begin with. Yeah, I think the fact that I reference them as "things" in the previous sentence is a telling sign. There is a very definite reason that the youngest people I have ever taught were 13. Don't get me wrong. I'm not a callous heartless witch of a person, and my cousins and friends who have kids have the sweetest babies in the world, and I love to hold them, and coo at them, and basically make myself into a completely different person while I am around them....but then they leave. Which is fine by me. Nor am I saying that I NEVER want kids. I mean, who would I be to argue with a gorgeous 6 foot something guy wanting to procreate with me and make an absolutely adorable baby? Um, yes please! We never know what the future brings, right?
Anyway, sorry, that was a tangent. Plus, the previous paragraph was more about babies than kids.
Specifically this post is more about Indonesian kids about 7-10 years. It happens all the time. I'll just be minding my own business, bothering no one, and I'll pass a group of the above mentioned kids. One will point towards me (isn't it supposed to be rude to point in this culture anyway?) and shout, "bule!" at me to their friends. This is roughly translated as "outsider" or "foreigner" and is not in itself a bad word or anything like that. This is not accompanied by a smile on their face, however. Usually it's with some sort of snarl, and then cruel laughter shared by the group. It's just so strange, because it's so out of character for every other part of this country. Everyone is SO NICE at like, all times. It's like a slap in the face when this happens to me. Now I have started saying back to them in my best Indonesian accent, that, "I'm not a bule, I'm an Indonesian person." This usually makes the kids stare (and become slightly ashamed, at least I hope they are slightly ashamed) and the the taxi driver roar with laughter. This then makes me feel infinitely better. I mean, at least when that happens, I am TRYING to be entertaining. :)
It also sometimes happens a little differently with younger kids who are with parents. They see me, and then turn to their adult, and say something that I'm assuming is, "Look mama, there's a bule!" This is usually also followed by laughter, but not meanly. I know it's a culture thing. In America, I think you'd be hard pressed to find 2 people that have exactly the same skin color, but you would here too. I just don't understand why a parent would think it's OK for their child to basically point at someone and say, "DIFFERENT!" Call me crazy.
This is my 4th trip to Asia. I am white. No matter how tan I get here, and the fact that my hair really is dark brown, my nose will still be different. I don't have a problem with that. I don't have a problem with people always stopping me and wanting to take a picture with me. I am still a novelty. It is sometimes fun to be a mini celebrity. This is all ok.
The rude little kids though, are not my cup of tea. So, that's my gripe for today, and what really grinds my gears. Am I being petty and oversensitive, probably. Most likely, actually. But, I think that in the grand scheme of things, after 6 months of living here, if this is the one thing I focus my dislike on, I think that's OK. If not, fine. I am a bad person, and all that. They are kids, they don't know any better, blah blah blah. Sue me. ;)
There is pretty much only one thing that really, and I mean REALLY bothers me while I've been living here.
Let's stop with that for a moment though, and go back to it later. Things have been pretty OK lately. I know it's more than half of the time that I'll be here gone, but in reality, it's really just over 60/40. Feels more like I only have 1 month left though. I'm pretty much loving my life. I have a sweet teaching schedule, and my kids worship the ground I walk on. I mean, come on, who doesn't like a little hero worship every once in a while to to feel good about themselves, especially when living on your own abroad?
I get to dive a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I really like it. It is a nice "world" to belong to. Besides the crappy vibe at the dive resort on Pulau Weh, every other place I've been, and person I've met has been pretty awesome. It's like an Ultimate Frisbee community, but in the water. Age, social status, don't really matter. Just a love of the same thing.
Getting back to loving my life. It's paradise here. I live near the coast on a tropical island. It's gorgeous. I have the absolute best house in the entire country (my humble opinion). I have a cool motorcycle. I have some cool new friends that are ALMOST my age. Or, they are the age I forget that I'm not anymore. It's sunny almost every day. It also rains almost every day. It's lush and beautiful. It's hilly, and the roads are curvy. I have the most beautiful commute in the world, I think. It's about an hour. But instead of sitting on the Kennedy in gridlock, I can just look out the window and smile. The taxi drivers think I'm strange, because I'm evidently the only foreigner that doesn't insist on having the windows closed and the AC on. If it isn't pouring on me, I'm happy with the breeze. Or, I can pop in my Learning Indonesian lessons on my iPod, and try and be studious. Usually it's just music though, to relax. You know, from my horribly stressful life.
So, it was on a day like this, during my gorgeous commute, when I was reminded yet again about the one thing I TRULY don't like here. Kids pointing at me and calling me "bule".
Well, first of all, kids aren't my favorite things in the whole world to begin with. Yeah, I think the fact that I reference them as "things" in the previous sentence is a telling sign. There is a very definite reason that the youngest people I have ever taught were 13. Don't get me wrong. I'm not a callous heartless witch of a person, and my cousins and friends who have kids have the sweetest babies in the world, and I love to hold them, and coo at them, and basically make myself into a completely different person while I am around them....but then they leave. Which is fine by me. Nor am I saying that I NEVER want kids. I mean, who would I be to argue with a gorgeous 6 foot something guy wanting to procreate with me and make an absolutely adorable baby? Um, yes please! We never know what the future brings, right?
Anyway, sorry, that was a tangent. Plus, the previous paragraph was more about babies than kids.
Specifically this post is more about Indonesian kids about 7-10 years. It happens all the time. I'll just be minding my own business, bothering no one, and I'll pass a group of the above mentioned kids. One will point towards me (isn't it supposed to be rude to point in this culture anyway?) and shout, "bule!" at me to their friends. This is roughly translated as "outsider" or "foreigner" and is not in itself a bad word or anything like that. This is not accompanied by a smile on their face, however. Usually it's with some sort of snarl, and then cruel laughter shared by the group. It's just so strange, because it's so out of character for every other part of this country. Everyone is SO NICE at like, all times. It's like a slap in the face when this happens to me. Now I have started saying back to them in my best Indonesian accent, that, "I'm not a bule, I'm an Indonesian person." This usually makes the kids stare (and become slightly ashamed, at least I hope they are slightly ashamed) and the the taxi driver roar with laughter. This then makes me feel infinitely better. I mean, at least when that happens, I am TRYING to be entertaining. :)
It also sometimes happens a little differently with younger kids who are with parents. They see me, and then turn to their adult, and say something that I'm assuming is, "Look mama, there's a bule!" This is usually also followed by laughter, but not meanly. I know it's a culture thing. In America, I think you'd be hard pressed to find 2 people that have exactly the same skin color, but you would here too. I just don't understand why a parent would think it's OK for their child to basically point at someone and say, "DIFFERENT!" Call me crazy.
This is my 4th trip to Asia. I am white. No matter how tan I get here, and the fact that my hair really is dark brown, my nose will still be different. I don't have a problem with that. I don't have a problem with people always stopping me and wanting to take a picture with me. I am still a novelty. It is sometimes fun to be a mini celebrity. This is all ok.
The rude little kids though, are not my cup of tea. So, that's my gripe for today, and what really grinds my gears. Am I being petty and oversensitive, probably. Most likely, actually. But, I think that in the grand scheme of things, after 6 months of living here, if this is the one thing I focus my dislike on, I think that's OK. If not, fine. I am a bad person, and all that. They are kids, they don't know any better, blah blah blah. Sue me. ;)
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