so wow. different island, different language, different people, different culture. entirely. it’s even hard for me to understand them when they use indonesian. partly because they mix in lots of batak words and slang, but also because the accent is very different. i mean, i do the same with javanese. many people can tell i’m from java because of they way i speak. yeah, i have an accent. i kinda like that.
i have no doubt i’ll pick up on the language sooner or later. but the culture… the culture will take some getting used to. javanese are very reserved. they rarely raise their voice. they never yell. they keep their emotions hidden, and though they might not always make the most logical choice (in my western-thinking opinion), they are almost always fairly level headed and even keeled about things. and in all my attempts (conscious and otherwise) to not be the typical american in a foreign country, i have adopted the ways of the culture i live in.
but ohmygosh… the batak are opposite in almost every way. they are the people who flail their arms in the air and wail from the very depths of their soul for an entire funeral service. they are the people who, when they are excited about something, you actually wonder if they might have peed their pants a little bit. they have one volume - shouting. if they have a problem with someone, everyone and their cousin will know about it (partly because EVERYONE on the mountain could hear them talking about it to just one other person). and if they like you… well, i watched 2 people today get in a fight over whose family i was a part of. and i’ve only been here a day! they are quick to love and quicker to hate, they are passionate, they wear their hearts on their sleeves.
i met a lady yesterday, rosemary. she’s a worker on the farm. we talked for maybe 10 minutes at the most. in those ten minutes, she went from being so giddy to meet me that she was jumping up and down and grabbing me by the front of my pants (her hand was actually DOWN my pants) to drag me to introduce to more people to throwing her arms around me and sobbing on my shoulder, almost knocking me over backwards with her force. she laughed uproariously when she teased me. she threw her arm over her face and clenched her eyes shut when she talked about how much she hates living alone. she crossed her arms, wrinkled up her whole face, and stamped her foot when she talked about her wages and how she thinks she should get more. then she was back to jumping up and down and clapping her hands when we talked about how long i’m staying here. rosemary is nearly 50. and she calls me daughter.
in other news, i’ve quite settled into my room here. if you remember from last time i was here, the actual farm is on the very top of the mountain. but we were given some land to use about halfway up the side of said mountain. it has a church, a house, and a dorm. last time i stayed in the house with my newlywed friends, gt and wiwik. ron and kim are currently in the process of having a house built up at the farm, but there is no indication when it will be finished. contractors… anyways, on the church property, the dorm is not quite finished, but beneath the church, there is a hallway with 4 rooms off it that are sparsely furnished with bunkbeds and a desk. each room also has its own bathroom, complete with a squatty and a bucket of water. ron and kim have managed to fit most of their old life on java into one of these rooms, and so i’m staying in the room next to theirs.
we were watching a tv earlier tonight that ron rigged up in their room when i heard someone come in the door at the end of the hall. since it’s not technically our property, we can’t really do anything about this. i asked about who it could be, and ron kind of shrugged and said that the owner rents rooms out by the night. and by the hour. uuuuhhhhh… so… awesome. i’m living in a brothel. ok, not quite that drastic. but still, i’ve never before been so thankful for indonesian people’s obsession with leaving everything wrapped in its original plastic (namely, my mattress). and for kim being able to find clean sheets that fit among the many boxes of stuff stacked up in her room, in the hallway, and in the house.
one last bit – i would ask for prayer for me. i have had allergies since october. well, it’s either allergies or the cold that won’t die. it’s not really bad enough to take medicine typically, but on worse days, i pop a claritin (thanks, mom), and it usually clears me up in 30 minutes or so. this morning i was sneezing almost nonstop and my nose was running like mad, so i took one of 10 claritin i brought with me. since it was raining and going up to the farm would be pretty useless, i fell back asleep until 10. then, after the rain let up, gt and i went up to the farm and worked until about 4. (btw, i spent a large chunk of that time cutting grass to feed cows. with a SICKLE! filled up the entire back of a pickup truck. AND gt let me drive the truck. first time i’ve driven anything with more than 2 wheels for almost 2 years now! felt weird. probably because i was sitting on the right and shifting with my left.) anyways, my sneezing continued, every 15 minutes or so, and i was just generally miserable. but i was still thinking it was my allergies, made worse from all the plant life around me. after work, we went down into town to get some dinner, and it quickly became clear that it was more than that. my throat is pretty swollen and fiery feeling. i had chills for a bit earlier, and a low grade headache. right now i’m doped up on claritin, sudafed, chloraseptic, and black currant tea. and i still feel pretty miserable. so please pray that i’ll be back on my feet in no time. i’m only here a month, and i really want to make the most of that! even a day of being sick is a day too many…
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