Another Day in Paradise

January's gone by quickly. On most accounts that's a good thing. For most of you it means the end of snow and ice storms is getting closer. It also means that the Superbowl is just around the corner and, yes, the Indianapolis Colts will be there in full force!

On other accounts, after weekends like this, I would be happy to have time slow down just a bit. A friend of mine from the Consulate is leaving in March so she and I have talked quite a bit about what she will miss after living here for two years. At this point in time my list of things that I will miss is still short, mostly limited to a list of people and fruits that I've come to love. However this weekend has brought a mix of relaxation, randomness, and rainstorms that I know I will never have in the United States.

For example, take tonight's journey to this very computer. I left my house around 4pm after enjoying some delicious fried dough balls covered in powder sugar that Nelly, my general protector, made. It was a beautiful sunny day, but there was a breeze so I decided to substitute my usual taxi ride with a nice walk. As I walked I greeted each person staring at me with a sincere smile and a pleasant "Hello!" or "Selamat sore!" (good evening). However, approximately a third of the way to my destination some very dark clouds rolled in and I decided to cut my walk short and catch a bimo.

Now a bimo is the local public transport of choice. If I were to choose it in a game of 20 questions and you were to ask me if it was bigger than a breadbox I would answer "only slightly". They take short-bus to a new level. Anyways, I caught the bimo and surprisingly found it empty. I was thrilled because this meant there was a good chance that the driver would take me all the way to my destination rather than to the nearest stop which is not so near. I was friendly and put my bahasa Indonesia to good use. First the driver asked me where I was from. I was in a good mood so I was honest and I said America. We went through the normal questions about work, age, if I'm married yet, what's my religion, etc. Then came the next stage of questioning. "So you're American," he says, "What do you think of free sex." I laugh and say responsibly that it is dangerous. Then I quickly point out that there isn't free sex in America. Then I decided to turn the tables and I asked him what he thought about it. Unfortunately while I can make conversation, my listening skills are greatly limited by my meager vocabulary. He could have said an array of things, but I chose to believe he said that it was deplorable because of the way it promotes a social perception of women as sexual objects.

It is unlikely that that is what he said, however, because his questions began to follow a less thoughtful line. First he asked me about Islam and what I knew about it. Knowing not to bite, I listed random facts that I hope all people know and then I concluded by stating, "I know Islam means peace." He smiled and seemed satisfied.

After some silence he began again. "I have never touched an American boy or girl before!" he declared. I knew where this one was going. "Can I touch you?" he asked. After briefly considering my escape options in case of an emergence I hold out my arm and say ok. Innocently enough he reaches out and puts his hand on my arm. After a few seconds I say ok and take my arm back. Phew, that wasn't so bad! He is beaming. "That is my first time to touch an American!" he says. I insist that we're the same as Indonesians, but he immediately points out the abundance of hair, or fur as they call it in Indonesian, on my arm and the lack of such hair on his arm. I smile and say oh.

He was quiet again for a while and we were nearing the turn to my destination/the stop on his route. He starts again. "You know I've never kissed an American before either." Uh-huh, I think. "Can I kiss you?" No. "Can I kiss your cheek?" No. "Can I kiss your hand?" No. He laughs and then mumbles something about smart woman.

Finally I point out again that I am actually going just a little further hoping that he would just take me there as some of the drivers have done in the past. But no, we arrived at the stop and he proceeded to tell me the fare. Maybe I should have kissed him!

Just kidding, Dad!

Anyways, he said that it was just about 200 meters to the place where I was going. Being from America I don't have a good sense of how long 200 meters is, but it sounded manageable. So I started walking...and walking...and I kept walking. I don't know how many meters later, but I'm guessing it was more than 200, I arrived at my destination - the international school where I was picking something up from a friend - and I was soaking wet. Not long after the curious bimo driver dropped me off the dark clouds above finally burst and let out a serious downpour.

I decided to sit with the security guards at the school until the rain let up and I ventured out again. They didn't seem too interested in talking to me so I pulled out my current reading material, Barack Obama's "The Audacity of Hope" (fortunately my dad taught me the importance of always having a book on hand). After reading just a couple of pages one of the security guards randomly asks me how long I've been Indonesia, the typical conversation starter. I put down my book and we start talking. Then, when we hit a lull in the conversation, he looks at the book and just says "Obama." I ask him if he's heard of him and he says yes so emphatically that it's as if everyone has. I admit that I was surprised, not because I think Indonesians don't know anything about US politics, but I didn't really expect that people were following many Illinois senators.

It turned out that this guard knew a lot about Obama. He knew not only that Obama's step-dad was Indonesian and that Obama himself had at one point in his childhood lived in Indonesia, but this guard also knew that it was from 3rd grade through almost all of the 5th grade, but before finishing the 5th grade little Barack had to return to the US with his mom. The guard even knew what school Obama had gone to. I took the whole conversation as both an enjoyable moment in Surabaya and also as another sign among many that are suddenly pointing me towards US politics and the upcoming presidential campaign.

We'll see what happens in the Superbowl first!