A Fragile Normal

I've had the opportunity to chat with a lot of people lately, which has been interesting.  My network is slowly expanding and my time is more open.  Annika and I have had playdates.  I've been to meetings at the school.

Someone asked me recently whether Indonesia was very different from Venezuela.  I immediately said yes, very different.  But when asked to quantify, I stopped short.  Simply, the things I find difficult in Indonesia, were simple in Caracas.  And the hard things in Caracas I find refreshingly simple here.  Which means that being in Venezuela has done very little to make me feel comfortable living in Indonesia. 

Living in China, however, has helped me recognize Asia.  I know some of the brands on the shelves, and some of the stores in the mall.  In another conversation, a friend expressed that every decision and action requires thought.  At this point, it is difficult to make any decision based on prior experience or gut.  I have no basis for the relative cost of certain foods, a good restaurant for lunch or the safest place to walk.  Every decision requires effort, making life exhausting.  Exhilarating sometimes, but also exhausting.  This is even harder for those who are new to Asia.

Today I felt the best I have in a long time.  Physically, I felt like myself.  I awoke a few minutes before the alarm, feeling as if I had a good night's sleep.  Indulge me here, and allow me to remind you that wake up is at 5:30 in the morning.  I woke up, readied the kids, and headed to the gym.  Earlier this week, I was a little overzealous with my leg workout and have been feeling my quads for the last few days.  And by feeling them, I mean I could hardly move my legs.  By the time I left the gym, I had stretched my muscles out well enough to feel normal and energetic again.  I ate breakfast with Annika, checked in with Lilly's teacher about muffins for her birthday, and felt generally in control of my life.

So in control that I was ready to expand my circles.  Rather than having our driver take me to the grocery store, today I would walk.  I dressed in my outside clothes.  The weather here is surprisingly pleasant, and indoors always have the air conditioning on high, so I frequently wear jeans or even light sweaters.  But for a walk, I wore my tank top and shorts.  I hitched on my backpack and set out, past the garbage-filled canal, passed the antique street, and across a road streaming with cars.  I was now walking further than I had before, on entirely new streets.  I was in explorer mode and enjoyed the walk. 

The local grocery store has good produce, but its dry goods shelves still feel very foreign to me.  I loaded up on fruit for the weekend, but became discouraged trying to navigate the spices and searching for beans.  I loaded up my bag with my purchase, zipped it up, took a deep breathe and put my explorer attitude back in place.

I took a new route home, following the raised train tracks.  The road was smaller, with less traffic, and so more comfortable for walking.  People smiled and waved.  They were running small food stands or cigarette stalls.  There were clusters of tables gathered near a kitchen, with lights strung around the perimeter giving off a festive and gritty ambiance.  People frequently talked to me, but usually with smiles and just a few words.  But then someone talked at me with a lot more words, and a much less friendly tone, which made me nervous.  And then I noticed how many children were under the train tracks, and it made me wonder - are they working there?  do they live there?  do they not go to school?

I passed an elementary school, just letting out before the Friday prayers.  Parents were picking their kids up on foot, or on their motorbikes.  They were speaking in the same tone I speak to my kids at pick-up.  Have you got everything?  Quick, lets go.  You can have a snack at home.  Did you have a good day?  And then I was walking past the mosque.  Groups were walking toward it along with me, and mats were laid out and neatly swept all over the sidewalk.  Men were beginning to gather, so the sidewalk surrounding the mats was crowded.  A man with one eye reached his hand toward me.  He wanted money.  He was very close to me, and he looked like my brother, and he had cotton in place of his eye and his hand followed me for quite a while, and it wasn't really a fun walk anymore.

And then I was at our gate, and walked past the guards and through the gardens and into the chill of the air conditioning and the quiet of the elevator and the marble floors of our apartment.

Sometimes I wanted to cry.  Sometimes I felt how beautiful this city is, if only it weren't so buried in garbage and crumbling walls.  When I walked inside our building, I felt wildly privileged.  And then the girls came home and we went out to the pool with a few friends, and I felt like myself again.  These fragile moments of normal are becoming more frequent, and provide a foundation beneath those crashing moments of unfamiliarity.

It was a good day.  I'm beginning to feel like myself again.

And Just Like That

School began last week.  And just like that, life became normal.

We live in a strict routine, remarkably similar to the strict routine we lived in Arlington and the strict routine we lived in Caracas.  Wake up, go to school, grab some groceries and get something done with Annika, pick up from the school bus, do homework, eat dinner, get ready for bed, start the whole thing over again.

And everyone is happy.  Dave feels confident in his role at work, and enjoys our proximity to the embassy in temporary housing.  Lilly and Sophia are making new friends nearly every day, and enjoying everything about school except the daily language component.  I'm still trying to figure out how to shop so that we can eat a healthy meal every evening, and the girls can bring a healthy (and not outrageously expensive) meal to lunch every day.  Dinner has been simple staples, like pasta and banana pancakes, because my kitchen is still temporary.  But lunch proves to be a challenge, because cheese, lunch meat and peanut butter are all surprisingly expensive.

Little Annika will begin preschool when we move into our new house, so I've begun my research.  And I hope to begin offering music classes soon after we move into our new house, so that is keeping me busy as well.  Hopefully, by the time Annika starts school, I will have become more firmly rooted in school and work.  If she were at school today, I would have been lonely and bored.  But by the end of September, I'll be keeping busy enough to feel comfortable.

It rather amazes me that we have already been here for a month, or close to it.  We stepped on our first airplane on July 28th - 4 weeks ago today.  This has been a fast August!

Amalgamation

The alarm went off at 5:30 this morning.  I pushed open the curtains for some light.  It was still dark outside.  But by 6:00, the windows were full of light and our house was full of action.  A short 45 minutes later, the school bus had come and gone and the day had fully begun.

With the girls settled into school, its time for me to focus on other projects.  This morning I packed up my computer and walked down the street to a little coffee shop.  It has a cozy vibe, and is providing lovely backdrop for focusing on work this morning.  Also, the coffee is delicious.

As I walked here, I thought about how I've become an amalgam of all of the places I have lived.  And further, how that amalgamation shows itself in so many things - especially in my life today.


I am a Midwesterner.  I'm a Kansas City girl who grew up spending weekends on the farm with my grandparents.  I have no fear of dirt, and I am most comfortable in a sot cotton t-shirt and cheap khaki shorts.  I am immediately attracted to people who are unpretentious.  I eat desert after every meal.  I am a Midwesterner.




But I'm also a little Shanghainese.  I'm not afraid of traffic, and it only took a day before I felt comfortable again stepping in front of moving cars with my kids.  The cars will stop if I tell them to, and I'm willing to slam my hand down on their hood if they don't.  I am unfluffed by mess.  I walked in the street and the traffic for most of the half mile here this morning, not because there is no sidewalk but because that sidewalk frequently tips entirely into the open gutter below.  And frequently when it doesn't, the tropics have overgrown it or a man lies sleeping on it. I am sharp and savvy; I can maneuver a new grocery store, find the best place for mosquito repellant and will not be taken advantage of by my household staff or the taxi driver.  Shanghai put the fight into me, and I've brought that along with me.


But I'm also a bit Caraqueño.  I'm not always in a hurry, and I am fine with arriving late.  In fact, maybe I was born a bit Caraqueño.  But more to the point, I am also very cautious.  Walking this morning, I held tight to my backpack and I watched my surroundings sharply.  I noticed the man walking too close to me, and shifted quickly away from him.  Caraqueños live with an ever present threat of danger, and I've carried that along to Indonesia.

I'm a bit Arlington, a suburb of DC where the rents are high, the stress levels are high and the expectations of everyone are high.  I was a Midwesterner in Arlington, preferring to see my kids play with their neighbors rather than enroll them in enrichment programs at school.  But I brought some Arlington away with me.  I picked up a new level of polish in Arlington, and an upper middle class appreciation for quality.  When we began replacing things in our kitchen, we bought fewer items at higher price tags than we ever had before.  We spent a lot of money on each item we replaced, but we did not replace everything.

And I am a trailing spouse, the wife of a diplomat.  Even though we saw larger price tags on each item, we still saw a surplus in our bank account at the end of our shopping.  Because each time we move, we simplify.  I carry what I need, and not much more.  Surprisingly, I saw us replacing many things from Venezuela with exactly the same item, because I had carried exactly what I needed and not much more.  I was happy to be rid of our surplus.  I've also picked up some diplomacy.  Our blonde little girls garnered a lot of unwanted attention in Shanghai, and I bristled against that.  I protected my children and their privacy.  Now, thankfully much more the diplomat, I smile and join the frame with my kids.  After our movie screening in @America earlier this week, a group of high school students wanted to chat with us and take our pictures.  A quick conversation with my crew of kids about being gracious, and we stood talking with them for fifteen minutes.  They left all smiles.

We leave a lot of things behind every time we move.  But this morning, I'm feeling happy about all of the things that we bring along with us as well, the amalgamation that each one of us has become.

The Last Crazy Day of Summer

School started today!  Our entire house was awake and moving by 6:00am, and I am fully able to report that Jakarta is entirely dark when my alarm goes off at 5:30.  Rough.

We celebrated the last day of summer yesterday by keeping busy and wearing everyone out.  Lilly and Sophia both went on playdates in the morning, where I spent 2 hours taking them in the morning and the driver picked them up in the afternoon.  Its a different life, my friends.  Then we spent the afternoon at the pool, being happy and social and generally getting tired.  Macaroni and cheese out of the box for supper, because that's what makes my kids happy.  And Sumi fixed broccoli on the side, which made my kids happy as well.  They're good kids.

Then the whole family sat on the floor for a truly wild game of Crazy 8s.  There were people standing on their heads, lots of jumping was involved.  It was a Crazy Game.  And it was a really fun way to end the summer, sitting around being silly as a family.

Over dinner, I asked everyone to say their favorite part of the summer.  Its been a full few months, and there have been loads of high points.  We got various answers - cousins, swimming pools, summer camps, monsters, hotels.  But Lilly's answer was Indonesia.  She said that making new friends and playing with them over the last few weeks has been her favorite part of the summer.

I drove with them to school this morning, both to give them peace and to ease my heart.  Both of them found a friend and said good-bye to me before the bell rang.  They are happy.  Its going to be a good year.

That Emotional Roller Coaster Stage

I don't really know what the true Stages of Culture Shock are, but I have come to recognize my own stages.  And sadly, this Emotional Roller Coaster Stage is one that can last a long time.  Today is a great example.  School was supposed to start today, but has been postponed by two days.  So we made some quick plans: because the supposed-to-be-the-first-day nee the-last-two-days-of-summer need some plans.  That is, the household is a bit nervous about the first day of school, and needs to be kept busy and made tired.  So we spent the morning at the pool - good start.  Meals and showers went smoothly afterward.

In the afternoon, the girls brought some friends to @america.  According to their website, @america "is a cutting-edge, 21st-century cultural center where you can explore and experience the United States, and express your thoughts and ideas about America."  They've been showing a Robin Williams tribute film festival for the last few days, and so I took a crew of five kids to watch Night at the Museum.  It was a fun spot, and I teared up a little when Robin Williams' character talked about how he was just a mannequin, and had never done any of the impressive things his character had done.

When the movie finished, the English language club from a local high school came over and asked to take our pictures.  For the most part, my kids were very gracious and these teens were very sweet.  After they left, we played a few rounds of Foosball, ran into the grocery for some chicken and milk, and met the driver just as he pulled up outside.  Little Annika was feeling sick, so I carried a 4 year old in my arms while maneuvering a gaggle of high schoolers wanting to practice their English, a strange mall and a new grocery store all while corraling 4 elementary schoolers.  I'll admit - I was feeling like a superstar.

Traffic was smooth and the kids were happy.  We breezed home.  Until poor Annika's stomach acted up about 5 minutes from home.  She started crying.  Adi began driving faster.  I prepped Lilly to handle closing up the car while I raced Annika up to the apartment before she made a mess of herself and her car seat, and really grossed out that same crew of elementary schoolers.

By the time I had all of my kids upstairs, I was feeling a bit less like a superstar.  That's when I noticed that water had not been delivered.  We can not drink the water here.  We can not wash our vegetables with it.  We can not cook with it.  We can not brush our teeth with it.  And also, we try to drink a lot of it.  So our family goes through a lot of water.  But our house has been void of water bottles since Thursday afternoon.  This is a problem.

I left at noon feeling confident that I would come home to 5 new bottles of water in front of my door.  Instead, I came home to 5 empty bottles of water waiting neatly outside my door, as they had been all afternoon.  So much for pasta for dinner.  And here that superstar feeling disappeared entirely.  The kitchen is still fairly empty, partly because we're new and partly because we're temporary.  Its not full of bits and pieces that I can throw together for a healthy meal.  We have street food within walking distance, but we have not ventured into many of the stalls because of the buckets of muddy water they use to wash their dishes.  With Annika having crawled sick into her bed, we needed something fast and the only restaurants within a few minutes walk are McDonalds and KFC.  I'm embarrassed to admit that we've eaten both within the last week, but pleased to share that the kids didn't feel like eating either one.  Dave arrived home, and announced that he would leave again within 30 minutes to play basketball, so delivery was not an option either.  This rockstar parent was now facing empty cabinets and solo parent bedtime and feeling sad and exhausted.

We pulled dinner together out of bits and pieces in the cabinets and were able to eat as a family before Dave had to leave.  Things have calmed down and become normal again (although I did just yell at my child for standing too close to me, so...).  Things are on the same forward trajectory they have been for the last few weeks, with a few steps backward every so often because a child becomes sick or another child is severely anxious and grumpy, or because I can not find bananas for the life of me.  And hence that emotional roller coaster.  School starts on Wednesday - so curious to see whether the routine calms our lives, or makes them more hectic and unmanageable.  School will be a positive presence, to be sure.  But exhausting, no doubt.

The School

Our school is in the midst of a lot of turmoil.  It would not be appropriate for me to comment on this turmoil in any way, because I have very little knowledge about the events leading up to the current turmoil.  But a quick Google search will show you loads of turmoil around our school.

This turmoil made me extremely nervous.  Moving your kids is nerve-wracking already.  I am not yet convinced that moving internationally every few years is the best way to raise kids (although I have come to terms with the fact that my kids will not be raised under the best possible conditions - no kids are).  Still, we immediately look to a new school to provide routine and a safe and positive learning environment.  What I saw in the news did not make me feel safe, and our school provided me precious few bits of comforting information.  By and large, they asked me to trust that things were under control.  With no other basis for that trust, I found it difficult.

Today, I attended a parent forum at the school.  I left the building feeling relieved.  I feel relieved that the administration have a plan to heal most of their ills.  I feel assured that my children will be safe at school.  And I feel quite confident that every teacher in that school wants to spend their time teaching and caring for the children in their class.

I am pretty intimidated by the prospect of joining such a tumultuous community.  I am especially nervous about enrolling my children in such a tumultuous community.  But I also saw a lot of dignity among the administrators, and I heard them voice an amazing silver lining - the opportunity they have to model dignity under pressure, to model fighting against injustice, and the chance to live out their mission under difficult circumstances, a mission to become the best people for our world.

I think our kids will learn and grow at this school, and I imagine that learning and growing will involve more than just the curriculum.

Whoa - This Traffic

We have met some of our future neighbors, and they are lovely.  Its a tight and cozy little community, with only a few families living behind a guarded gate.  That'll keep the cars to a minimum, and stop kids from running outside the gate.  Even little Annika will be allowed to run free under these conditions - so lovely.  Lilly has found two other girls her age, one of whom will go to school with her.  She has found her place, and feels so happy there.  Sophia has found one other girl her age, who will go to school with her as well.  We hear rumors of more little girls, but we are feeling confident just on these girls we know so far.  But maybe lets not think about the traffic.

Okay, just for you, dear reader.  Lets go ahead and think about the traffic for a moment.  Last week, it took about 30 minutes to get from our current front door to our new front door.  Today, it took 90 minutes.  Most of this was barely moving on one major street.

The ride home took 60 minutes.  This was good, actually.  At that time of day, the ride home from the embassy will easily take 2 hours.  That will be Dave's afternoon commute every day.  If he leaves work at exactly 4:00pm, he has fair odds of being home by 6:00 for dinner.  Driving the reverse worked in our favor.  Still, we spent 2.5 hours in the car for a 1 hour playdate.  Hard to justify.

In the car on the way home, we saw these goats on the road next to us.  So I quick pulled out my phone to share them with you.

Adi, our driver, says they are for sale.  If I understood him correctly, goats are frequently exchanged during a holiday in October.  I must say, I have never lived so near to an open pen of goats.

Since my phone was already out, I snapped a few more shots from the backseat of our car.  Apologies for the prevalence of the dashboard.  What I'm trying to capture here is just what type of neighborhood we will live in.  When I drive down these roads, I am reminded of larger villages in China.  But this is no China, where the government will plow down ramshackle homes for a brand new highway. 

So, take a look at the width of this road.  We've got the goats on the left, just an open sewer away from the road.  And on the right in this picture is a bit of a dump, I think.  It looked as if these carts are full of garbage, and carrying it into this empty lot where they sort through it and then pack it into a tight wall.

So, below we were first in line behind a road obstruction.  Often we will sit still for a very long time, with no clear idea why traffic isn't moving.  This time, we could see firsthand.  Get a load of this truck!  This is a simple flat-bed truck, with makeshift paneling creating high walls for carrying whatever-he-is-carrying.  Its genius, as long as it stays together.  So, he was standing on the side of the road.  That made this 2-lane road impassable for half of the traffic.  A man eventually entered the street to direct traffic, which happens frequently, especially in these smaller roads.  In fact, Google Maps often directs Dave and I down little alleys where we really ought not be driving.  And inevitably, some neighbor will come out and direct us around any obstacles.

Before coming here, we heard that traffic is the hardest thing to live with in Jakarta.  I could not even imagine what that meant.  After an afternoon in the car, I can begin to understand.  And with these photos, you can begin to understand as well.