Tujuh belas

Yesterday was a celebration for 2 reasons.
1. Indonesian Independence Day is soon. (Tujuh belas)
2. Teacher meetings are OVER!

In honor of these two events, the school’s Indonesian staff (kitchen ladies, guards, groundskeepers, office workers, IT guys, etc...) decided to plan a special day for us westerners. And by “plan a special day for us” what I actually mean is “play ridiculous games to make everyone look silly so that we can laugh at them.” It was great! We split into ten mixed (native/foreign) teams and had lunch at our respective team tables. At first, I was the only westerner on my team and the only one currently at the table fluent in English (my teammate Yohanes is quite fluent, but he was a coordinator and was therefore busy giving people instructions). This was not conducive to team bonding. Eventually, Ashley (a fellow teacher), who was on a team with about 4 white people, saw my plight and joined my team.
Over lunch (which was sticky rice, spices, an egg, and vegetables to be eaten with the hands), we divided up the tasks – who would play which games. As soon as we finished eating, the fun began! We started with Makan Kerupuk. This game involved tying a kerupuk (a rice cake of sorts) from a long string, hanging it from a clothesline, then making people eat it without the use of their hands. For those of you who are familiar with rice cakes, you know that they are light and catch wind easily. This was a game that I had volunteered for..... It also did not help that Indonesians are really short and so my kerupuk was hung at about neck level. I got second place in my round (of five competitors). My Indonesian teammates cheered for me relentlessly. They also laughed a lot as I chased my kerupuk around through the air with my tongue out trying desperately to even get a lick. I’m just thankful that they used plain kerupuks (rather than shrimp flavored ones. I had already found a fish head in my lunch, and that was trauma enough for the day).
The second game was whole team tug-of-war. My team definitely lost in the first round. Interestingly enough, a team with mostly women and children can beat a team of mostly Indonesian men. This occured several times throughout the tournament. This was undoubtedly the most “normal” game of the day. The last round was incredibly intense and long with much bursting of blood vessels and screaming and cheering on the part of all involved.
Third, we played Mengambil Koin dalam Semangka. For this event, five watermelons had been slit all over their rinds and 100 rupiah coins had been shoved into each slit so about 1/3 – ½ of the coin was left sticking out. The watermelons were hanging on ropes from the kerupuk clothesline. Contestants had to use only their mouths to remove the coins from the watermelons and spit them into bags held by other team members. To make things especially difficult, 2 people from different teams were using the same watermelon, meaning that you had to fight with someone else pushing your watermelon around, and you also had to make sure that you spit your coins into the correct bag. And oh yeah, the watermelons were freshly painted with powdered charcoal mixed in cooking oil, which gave the watermelons a nice black fingerpaint-like surface. This was a particularly amusing game as contestants pushed and shoved each other around while trying desperately to chase a watermelon around with their mouths and getting their faces, necks, hair, shirts, backs, etc. coated in a nice layer of black oil.
The fourth event was also a fairly “normal” game. Each team designated 2 persons who stood on opposite ends of a roped off grassy area. Each contestant had a spoon in their mouth. One person from each team had a marble on their spoon. They had to carry the marble on the spoon in their mouths to the other end and transfer it to the spoon of their teammate who then had to walk back to the other end. If you dropped your marble at any time, your team was disqualified.
The last game seemed pretty easy..... It was soccer! However, in typical Indonesian fashion, there were a few twists. First, every player had to wear a sarong (an Asian wrap-around skirt type thing that is fairly restrictive and reaches to the floor). Also, any time hot guard (I don’t know this guy’s name, but he is easily the best looking guard we have here) decided to blast music through the sound system, everyone playing had to stop everything and dance. (Please see picture below) It was akin to musical soccer (if there is such a thing). This was my third event (after the kerupuk chase and tug-of-war), and it was wonderful. The greatest moment was when someone (not while I was playing) kicked toward the net and the ball went under the goalie’s sarong and got stuck. As the goalie stepped backwards to try and get the ball out from under their sarong, the ball popped out the back and right into the net. Also, I think I might have injured an Indonesian man. We tangled in a rush for the ball and he went down hard. I got the ball. Furthermore, I was complimented on my great dancing, thank you very much.
Overall, my team got second place. We were called to the lunch pavilion to receive our prize, which was a big box wrapped in brown paper. When we opened it up, we discovered more boxes filled with three packs of Oreos! We all walked away with our pockets shoved full of chocolatey/creamy goodness.

In other news, I think my lack of Indonesian language skills has proven troublesome with my pembantu (house helper). Tuesday, I left a note asking her to cook something for dinner with the chicken that I had left thawing in the fridge. When I got home that night, the chicken was back in the freezer and I had no dinner. Today, I again left a note, this time with the chicken thawing in the sink. When I got home, I again had no dinner, but (much to my consternation) this time, I also had no chicken either! I found a note on the table that read as follows:

Buat Nona:
Ibu minta maaf itu tulang ayam.
Saya bawa puling.
Terima kasih,
Ibu Santi.

(For Miss:
I’m sorry that there are bones in the chicken.
I will return it.
Thank you,
Ibu Santi)

That is called “motivation to learn the language”.