Lesson Plans, Leftovers, Laying on the Beach

It is has been too long since my last post and for good reason. Culture shock lasted a long, long time, but I am happy to report it is officially over. I actually have a full life here now, and that is why I am spending less and less time online and more and more time in school with my students and outside of class with friends that I have made around the city. Since life has become pleasantly boring, this blog might not be a bit dull, but continue on fearless readers!

School has been going really well. Today we watched Mad Hot Ballroom, a 2005 documentary about 5th grade public school kids in New York City competing in (obviously) ballroom dancing competitions. My kids loved it because a) they could watch a movie during a school day (shocker!) b) there are a lot of silly-looking ten-year old kids trying to learn how to dance in it and c) many of the kids in the movie aren't tall and white and blonde. They are Latino and Chinese and Indian and many other things, and I don't think my students always understand this racial diversity in America. Most of my lessons for the 10th graders are based on historical or cultural lessons about the world and America, and not just English grammar (particularly because I canNOT explain grammar to them. I do not understand English grammar rules and never want to). So far we have listened to "I Have a Dream," written and delivered speeches about poverty, education, global warming, and gender equality, and written our own poetry after reading a couple Robert Frost poems. If anyone has any inspiring lessons plan ideas for them, let me know. They're like sponges, and they love anything about America. I downloaded a bunch of Thanksgiving podcasts on iTunes for our lessons next week, but am looking for more ideas after that.

Outside of school, I have settled in much more to my house here, trying to expand as much of my two-suitcases worth of stuff into my 5 bedrooms, living room, sitting room, garage, dining room, kitchen, etc. I cooked my first real meal in my kitchen after seven weeks here. Carrie and I invited some Indonesian people over and made homemade spaghetti sauce and tried to get our hands on some wine (alas, to no avail) and even made garlic bread on a burner with sliced white bread from the convenience store down the street. Out of eight Indonesian people, only one person actually ate the pasta (Western food issues? Maybe we're just bad cooks) and so we piled up all the leftover pasta into a big pan and stuck it in my fridge and have been eating out of it ever since, and my Indonesian friends keep getting grossed out about it because they cook food fresh everyday, haha. Anyway, having leftovers in my fridge is kind of comforting.

Last weekend I went to this beach south of Malang called Balekambang with some of Indonesian friends which meant two hours there and two hours back on motorbikes. Besides the relief of getting there after that long on the back-half of a motorbike, we were also pretty amazed by the beach itself. Miles of coastline, sparkling blue water, a small footbridge leading to a small Hindu temple on a little island. We swam around for a bit, ate some Nasi Pecel (rice with vegetables, and peanut sauce) and ran into about six of my eleventh grade students who also came to the beach that day. East Java is too small, but it's really nice to run into people that you know around here. Plus, even though I had just seen my students the day before they freaked out and started running towards me shouting. Would that ever happen with 17-year-olds in America? I think not.

Anyway, I should run. It's the start of the rainy season and it's raining a lot outside and I know it's just going to get harder. Yeah!

Oh, and Kait - the 10th graders are JUST like the juniors. Sophomores are the new juniors....

Feeling at home (finally)

Things are getting better. This past weekend I had a great trip to visit another fellow in Yogyakarta and a lot of our friends came. There were eight of us hanging out in Yogya – basically the cultural hub of Java and a huge ex-pat spot. Even though I am still loving in Malang, it would definitely be cool to be in Yogya – there are bars, tourists, an awesome vegetarian restaurant, and a general hip feel going on in that city. However, it’s extremely hot. It’s one of those cities in which you need a 4 hour siesta everyday to survive. No walking outside unless the sun is down. We’re talking crazy, crazy hot. My friend in Yogya is placed in a vocational high school so she actually lives in the hotel the school owns so that its students can get hands on training. I took an overnight travel car over to Yogya and stayed in her hotel room for the first night. After my gi-normo house, the hotel room (and the maid/concierge service that goes with it) was looking pretty nice. The first day I was there we went to a huge Buddhist temple in Central Java called Borobudur. If you google search Indonesia, 2 out of 3 pictures you see will be of this temple. It is in the middle of a huge forest and is built up almost like a pyramid. As you ascend the temple the pictures and carvings turn from earthly pleasures to godly pursuits, an illustration of the stages of Buddhist enlightenment. Even though there were lots of Indo tourists there, you can walk around and the temple and not see a soul. It’s huge and it winds around like a maze. There are hundreds and maybe thousands of Buddhas, and hundreds of carved scenes on its walls. We stayed there for a few hours, each going our separate ways. I joined a French tour group, listening to broken French at a Buddhist temple in a predominantly Muslim country with other white foreigners. Surreal.

The second night we drove to a beach south of Yogya and spent the night in a lean-to built up about fifteen feet off of the beach. We woke up the next day to the sites of a deserted beach like nothing I’ve ever seen. When I originally signed up to come to Indonesia, this is actually how I pictured my life. Turqoise water, palm trees, coral, reefs, little Indonesian children running around, and not another foreigner in site (except for my friends). We spent the day frolicking in the water and ate at one of the houses in the village – fresh grilled fish, veggies in peanut sauce, rice, and coca-colas. Later that day, we came back to Yogya to shop for batik (traditional Indonesian clothing). I bought a long piece of blue-y purple-y silky soft batik that looks very Anthropologie-esque for about 6 bucks and I am going to get a dress made out of it at the tailor. I don’t think I’ll spend more than 5 dollars to get it made so it’ll hopefully be a less than 12 dollar dress that I will love. Cheap fabric, cheap fruit, cheap transportation…. so many reasons to live in Indo. I am thinking about getting a house cleaner to come once or twice a week and it should cost me $2.50 per visit. I will never have to clean my own floors again! Though, keeping my floors clean for more than a day will probably prove an impossible task seeing as volcanic dust blows in everyday from the slats in the windows. I can’t really keep anything out of the house. Flies, ants, mosquitoes, and the small lizards that eat them all come and go everyday in my house. I gladly welcome the lizards even though in the beginning I was freaked out by the way they leap from wall to wall. I’m also afraid I’m going to step on one at night when I go to the bathroom…. So many issues. Also, cockroaches occasionally come inside my house and there are tons of big ones in my kitchen. You can’t really kill them unless you spray them with a ton of this insect repellant and even then they don’t die for a long time. They just run around in circles until they fall on their backs, shake for a few seconds, and draw their last few breaths. Then I have to sweep them out, hope that some poor unsuspecting lizard won’t eat them and get poisoned, and then disinfect the whole area where they died. Tropical climates come with many, many issues. Gross issues.

Moving on to school. School this week has been pretty amazing. For the first time the workweek is actually passing really quickly. I taught most of my own lessons and I bonded a lot with the 10 graders. I don’t know if I have mentioned this, but the 10^th graders are actually scholarship students sent to SMA 10 to attend a program called the Sampoerna Academy. The Sampoerna family is actually an extremely wealthy Indonesian family who own cigarette factories. Apparently a lot of the big tobacco companies in Indonesia support education, so the Sampoerna Academy is an all-expense paid scholarship to come to SMA 10 to learn. Even though my school is a public school this program is privately funded and exists pretty autonomously in the school. The 10^th graders have completely different curriculum than the 11^th graders and 12^th graders, and most of their subjects are taught in English. Not to mention the fact that these kids are all geniuses. Their English is ten times better than their older peers and they want to learn more so badly. They all ask me how they can go to college in America, and I think a lot of them might be able to pull it off. They are so smart, so modest, and so nice. I feel bad for them all since they had to leave their families, live in dorms and have no free time, so I try to hang out with them during free time as much as possible. Yesterday I went with some of the Sampoerna academy consultants to visit their dorms. They live about 10 people per section, with two people per room and one common room. The girls keep their rooms much nicer than the boys but in general they are pretty legit dorms. Much better than I thought they were going to be. When we got there they were eating dinner, but they all freaked out and even though they had just seen us they came running up to shake our hands and talk to us, and take our pictures (I think they take my picture everyday. I keep trying to tell them that I’m not leaving and they don’t have to take a picture to remember me yet). I spent about 10 minutes in each common room talking to them, and I realized how much I already love these kids. One of the consultants pulled me aside after and told me how much I am going to miss them when I leave. I already feel sad just thinking about it and I’m only one month in! Anyway, after the dorm visits I went out to a traditional Indonesian restaurant with the consultants and as usual I was forced to sing in front of everyone at the restaurant. Fly Me to the Moon. Indos love their music and I’m actually getting more used to it. And I’m loving it.

Feeling at home (finally)

Things are getting better. This past weekend I had a great trip to visit another fellow in Yogyakarta and a lot of our friends came. There were eight of us hanging out in Yogya – basically the cultural hub of Java and a huge ex-pat spot. Even though I am still loving in Malang, it would definitely be cool to be in Yogya – there are bars, tourists, an awesome vegetarian restaurant, and a general hip feel going on in that city. However, it’s extremely hot. It’s one of those cities in which you need a 4 hour siesta everyday to survive. No walking outside unless the sun is down. We’re talking crazy, crazy hot. My friend in Yogya is placed in a vocational high school so she actually lives in the hotel the school owns so that its students can get hands on training. I took an overnight travel car over to Yogya and stayed in her hotel room for the first night. After my gi-normo house, the hotel room (and the maid/concierge service that goes with it) was looking pretty nice. The first day I was there we went to a huge Buddhist temple in Central Java called Borobudur. If you google search Indonesia, 2 out of 3 pictures you see will be of this temple. It is in the middle of a huge forest and is built up almost like a pyramid. As you ascend the temple the pictures and carvings turn from earthly pleasures to godly pursuits, an illustration of the stages of Buddhist enlightenment. Even though there were lots of Indo tourists there, you can walk around and the temple and not see a soul. It’s huge and it winds around like a maze. There are hundreds and maybe thousands of Buddhas, and hundreds of carved scenes on its walls. We stayed there for a few hours, each going our separate ways. I joined a French tour group, listening to broken French at a Buddhist temple in a predominantly Muslim country with other white foreigners. Surreal.

The second night we drove to a beach south of Yogya and spent the night in a lean-to built up about fifteen feet off of the beach. We woke up the next day to the sites of a deserted beach like nothing I’ve ever seen. When I originally signed up to come to Indonesia, this is actually how I pictured my life. Turqoise water, palm trees, coral, reefs, little Indonesian children running around, and not another foreigner in site (except for my friends). We spent the day frolicking in the water and ate at one of the houses in the village – fresh grilled fish, veggies in peanut sauce, rice, and coca-colas. Later that day, we came back to Yogya to shop for batik (traditional Indonesian clothing). I bought a long piece of blue-y purple-y silky soft batik that looks very Anthropologie-esque for about 6 bucks and I am going to get a dress made out of it at the tailor. I don’t think I’ll spend more than 5 dollars to get it made so it’ll hopefully be a less than 12 dollar dress that I will love. Cheap fabric, cheap fruit, cheap transportation…. so many reasons to live in Indo. I am thinking about getting a house cleaner to come once or twice a week and it should cost me $2.50 per visit. I will never have to clean my own floors again! Though, keeping my floors clean for more than a day will probably prove an impossible task seeing as volcanic dust blows in everyday from the slats in the windows. I can’t really keep anything out of the house. Flies, ants, mosquitoes, and the small lizards that eat them all come and go everyday in my house. I gladly welcome the lizards even though in the beginning I was freaked out by the way they leap from wall to wall. I’m also afraid I’m going to step on one at night when I go to the bathroom…. So many issues. Also, cockroaches occasionally come inside my house and there are tons of big ones in my kitchen. You can’t really kill them unless you spray them with a ton of this insect repellant and even then they don’t die for a long time. They just run around in circles until they fall on their backs, shake for a few seconds, and draw their last few breaths. Then I have to sweep them out, hope that some poor unsuspecting lizard won’t eat them and get poisoned, and then disinfect the whole area where they died. Tropical climates come with many, many issues. Gross issues.

Moving on to school. School this week has been pretty amazing. For the first time the workweek is actually passing really quickly. I taught most of my own lessons and I bonded a lot with the 10 graders. I don’t know if I have mentioned this, but the 10^th graders are actually scholarship students sent to SMA 10 to attend a program called the Sampoerna Academy. The Sampoerna family is actually an extremely wealthy Indonesian family who own cigarette factories. Apparently a lot of the big tobacco companies in Indonesia support education, so the Sampoerna Academy is an all-expense paid scholarship to come to SMA 10 to learn. Even though my school is a public school this program is privately funded and exists pretty autonomously in the school. The 10^th graders have completely different curriculum than the 11^th graders and 12^th graders, and most of their subjects are taught in English. Not to mention the fact that these kids are all geniuses. Their English is ten times better than their older peers and they want to learn more so badly. They all ask me how they can go to college in America, and I think a lot of them might be able to pull it off. They are so smart, so modest, and so nice. I feel bad for them all since they had to leave their families, live in dorms and have no free time, so I try to hang out with them during free time as much as possible. Yesterday I went with some of the Sampoerna academy consultants to visit their dorms. They live about 10 people per section, with two people per room and one common room. The girls keep their rooms much nicer than the boys but in general they are pretty legit dorms. Much better than I thought they were going to be. When we got there they were eating dinner, but they all freaked out and even though they had just seen us they came running up to shake our hands and talk to us, and take our pictures (I think they take my picture everyday. I keep trying to tell them that I’m not leaving and they don’t have to take a picture to remember me yet). I spent about 10 minutes in each common room talking to them, and I realized how much I already love these kids. One of the consultants pulled me aside after and told me how much I am going to miss them when I leave. I already feel sad just thinking about it and I’m only one month in! Anyway, after the dorm visits I went out to a traditional Indonesian restaurant with the consultants and as usual I was forced to sing in front of everyone at the restaurant. Fly Me to the Moon. Indos love their music and I’m actually getting more used to it. And I’m loving it.

The Good and the Bad (Written Oct. 15)

It’s Day 4 of my post-Bali week in Malang and I am still feeling the fallout/culture shock of returning from an amazing weekend. I had a mid-week high after a nice dinner out with some German girls I met at a café and after meeting some great and helpful Indos, but the rest of the week has been a bit of a mess. After seeing Westerners in Bali and eating at Western restaurants and dressing the way I wanted and going to the beach everyday, Malang is feeling a bit lonely and a tad boring. This feeling only grew worse yesterday when I signed up for an internet plan and spent a lot on a modem that doesn’t really work in my house. It was the last straw. I cried, called my mom, told her I wanted to come home for the millionth time, and then sucked it up and came to school. I taught an 11^th grade class that was a bit rowdy but then I had a nice lunch with the teachers and am looking forward to seeing one of the better 11^th grade classes this afternoon. The good news is also that I now have Fridays off which means more time to travel! I feel bad leaving every weekend (and I won’t leave every weekend) but I need some American company after 4 or 5 days of feeling a bit useless and living alone. Thank god for the other ETAs. I have a feeling that life will get better as soon as I really start teaching, and I do love most of the tenth graders. I am just waiting to feel like I really belong here and can actually spend 8 months here instead of yearning for America (and Bali) all the time.

Now, on to Bali. We decided to stay in Kuta for the three days and two nights we were there. Kuta is in the south of Bali and is basically like the Indonesian version of a Mexican spring break town. This is not to say that the beaches aren’t beautiful and that there aren’t a lot of cool back streets to explore, but most of the time you are surrounded by drunk Australians in Bintang Beer tank tops buying cheap sunglasses and straw hats. Oddly enough, we were all fine with this. The site of people like us to blend in with was truly therapeutic. The whole weekend I never got yelled at - “Hello, Mister” - and was never really stared at, considering I was much more conservatively dressed and a lot more sober than 90% of the people there. Altogether there were four ETAs there and we hung out with one Fulbright research fellow, a former ETA that lives in Bali, a friend of one of the ETAs from college, and Swedish and Australian friends of friends from Jakarta. Some of the people rented a huge villa for the weekend with a huge swimming pool, terrace, and gazebo that we chilled at at night, and the rest of the time we were at the beach. The REAL interest of Bali though is in Ubud, a town in central Bali, about a one and a half hour drive from Kuta. We met a couple of Balinese guys who drove us up there on Sunday and we spent a day in one of the most beautiful parts of the world I have ever seen. Rice paddies. Temples. Cafés. Galleries. It is a perfect East meets West hybrid. Everything smells so much better than in Malang. The smell of jasmine flowers and incense is everywhere. The temple we went to was having a celebration so everyone was dressed in sarungs and the women were carrying baskets of fruit – offerings to their gods – on their heads. People were bathing in a series of little fountains outside the temple, moving from one to the other. One of our friends told us people must do this after one of their family members dies. After the temple we went to a market ( a bit too chaotic, but good coconut juice) where we bought oleh-oleh, or small souvenirs, for our counterparts. I don’t really understand this practice, since the souvenirs we are supposed to buy (keychains, weird little wooden turtles, and other knick knacks) seem to be a waste of money. I did, however, buy some wooden bracelets for the English teachers at my school and they are all very happy with them. Even though they all love Bali they do not get to travel there very much since their salaries are so low (I found out how much they make the other day and it is scandalous. I hope they never find out how much Fulbright is paying us to be here.

Next week is school anniversary week and I have already been forced to promise that I will sing, ha! The teachers told me to let them know beforehand what I want to perform and they will make the school band practice the song. Anyway, signing off for now!

C

Courtney in Malang

I am sitting here at school – where I’ve been for the last six hours – and I haven’t actually done anything constructive. The students are all testing for the next two and a half weeks, so the teachers are all hanging out in this big multipurpose room/teachers’ lounge for the moment. They are all laughing and speaking Javanese (a language I have not yet even begun to grasp; very different than the Indonesian we were taught in orientation) and continuously feeding me.

Day 5 at SMA 10 Malang, the senior public high school where I will (eventually) be teaching.

The thing is, despite moments of frustration and depression, this whole hanging out at school thing has become a lot of fun. When people talk to me we often speak English and they teach me a little Javanese. Thus, I am actually accomplishing one of my goals. And if the teachers’ English improves, so will the students. Also, I am having serious bonding time with everyone at school even before I teach the students. Hopefully this means they’ll help a girl out when I inevitably have some issues in the classroom. As of now, I am not sure about any of the students’ language abilities and am afraid my fast-talking, slang-filled English might go right over their heads. I am practicing talking a lot slower with the teachers and using hand motions. They do the same back when they are explaining something in Indonesian. It’s a lot like Tarzan-speak back and forth.

In any case, since lunch is cooked at school and it’s FREE, I have tried lots of Indo food… curries with coconut milk, fruit salads with peanut sauce, lots of tofu/tempe, fried bananas, fried EVERYTHING. I bought frosted flakes at one of the more Western grocery stores and stopped eating them every morning when my fellow teachers started leaving plates of donuts on my desk and motioning that I eat them all. The eating never stops, so I started giving any extra food that I am given to the stray cats who hang out at the school. One actually just had kittens and they are living in a box filled with school papers in the administrative office. A lot of Indonesians are afraid of cats so when the mother first brought her kittens into the office one of the English teachers screamed and jumped up on a chair. I am trying to make her promise that she won’t shoo and kick the cats away anymore but it’s tough going. Animal cruelty is hard for me to handle over here, even if it is cultural. Stray cats are everywhere, and so many of them are maimed and hungry. Apparently cats with long tails are bad luck so Indonesians capture cats and cut their tails off. It’s sad just to think about and I’ve already cried to one of my neighbors about a cat on the street who couldn’t use his back legs after he got hit by a motorbike. No one really takes cats to the vet since many Indonesians can't themselves afford to go to the doctors, so I can't really lecture them about the animals. I don't know what to do except help some of the cats around my 'hood.

Anyway, besides school and those poor cats, I am exploring Malang as best as I can. So far I’ve been to a lot of the old colonial landmarks including Toko Oen, this Dutch-style café with wicker chairs and waiters that look like they’re circa 1930 who serve you European pastries and every kind of juice you can imagine in a big open room. Even though it’s a bit rundown, it has great views of the Dutch reform church across the street, and the McDonald’s right next door (haha). I have also been to the Tugu Hotel, a boutique hotel/old colonial residence/museum located right next to the city hall. Google it. It’s probably the nicest hotel I have ever seen. Everywhere you look there are amazing Indonesian and Dutch antiques. A fellow ETA, Carrie (my closest friend here, both literally and geographically) went to eat there and we sat in the courtyard right next to the pool in this enclosed garden area…. I can’t even explain it. If anyone comes to visit me we should spring for one night there and use the pool. They also have a spa and a big tea ceremony on one of the terraces from 4 until 6. Heaven is Tugu Hotel.

Anyway, time to run. I am going to visit Carrie in Pandaan to observe one of her classes since mine are not in session yet. I will definitely blog more soon. About my house, about where I’ve been so far outside Malang, etc... Bali this weekend, so that should be an interesting topic for discussion, right? Stay tuned.

C

Kicking Off

So, we are finally in our last week of orientation, which means on Saturday we are all going to be escorted to our houses by our teaching counterparts. Which means I am going to be living alone in a five-bedroom (yes, five) house in East Java this weekend. After over three weeks living with thirty other Americans in a Western-style hotel, this is going to be a shock. I am, however, ready to start traveling by myself, even though this will mean a lot more attention and a bit more courage on my part. This also means that this blog will (hopefully) start getting a lot more interesting.

Over the past week I have recovered from a pretty bad cold after driving three hours up and three hours back to visit hot springs and a white crater south of Bandung (and breathing in exhaust the whole time). I have eaten more plates of veggies covered in peanut sauce than I can name. I have ridden in dozens of angkots (Indo transportation; basically minibuses with two little bench seats inside. Very crowded and hot, but they leave the doors tied open so there's a good breeze). I've celebrated the end of Ramadhan laying on pillows with some friends while listening to imams calling from mosque to mosque, watching amateur fireworks, and trying to understand how we got here, how we were actually in Indonesia. In the beginning this feeling almost never left me, this feeling of awe, of being displaced but of experiencing something unlike anything I had ever seen or felt before. Now though, these moments of raw amazement are quite sparse. Yesterday we ventured north of Bandung to an Indonesian park to see waterfalls and to bathe in some sulphur hot springs, and it just seemed like a normal thing to do on a Sunday afternoon. Very little - the rickety wooden bridge with a handwritten sign limiting the number of 'orang' or people on the bridge; the monkeys soaring from branch to branch in the trees; the little old lady grilling corn for us right next to one of the most spectacular waterfalls I've ever seen - none of this brought these feelings of 'how did I get here?'. Instead seeing a group of 'bulehs' or Westerners in the park actually freaked us out. Yes, we are all Americans (though quite diverse looking; I definitely stand out the most) but seeing ourselves in another group of people was a bit shocking. Being a head taller than everyone around me, in elevators, at markets, has become day-to-day life.

Now I just need to get ready for being The American in Malang. The English Language Fellow in my city has told me people stare, follow her, and occasionally touch her. And she's about 4 inches shorter than me and a brunette. This means getting comfortable with never having privacy; it means getting your picture taken with whole families of Indonesians everyday; it means hearing the phrase "Hello, Mister" about nine or ten times a day (a lot of Indonesians know this, and only this phrase). But it also means I get the chance to experience real Indo life; it means I will be teaching full time; it means I will be speaking Indonesian instead of English outside of school everyday; it means I will be traveling on weekends (first up, Bali), and it means my fellowship is actually kicking off...

Selamat Idul Fitri!

C

Getting Out

After about 8 days in crowded, polluted cities with no sidewalks, it was time to get out. I have a couple friends from school in Indonesia, and one of them invited me to her parents' house about 40 minutes outside of Bandung in a town called Purwakarta. Since it's Ramadhan her family's drivers couldn't come pick us up, but two other ETAs and I decided to public transport ourselves out there, and I'm VERY glad we did.

After talking to my friend and the hotel stuff we had a rough idea of where we were going. After breakfast on the hotel terrace this morning, we ended up taking a taxi to the bus station, and were happily surprised when the buses were Greyhound look-alikes. However, when we found our bus it definitely had more of a 'I've been around,' bombed out appeal. We couldn't complain though because one tour of the city and a very fast trip up the mountains later, we were in Purwakarta. The town, although apparently pretty large, is much less developed than anything we had ever seen and we definitely stood out. We ended up hailing a mini-bus type shuttle with a bunch of Indonesians already in it and taking it to Indorama, the gated community where my friend lives. She told us to ask for Mr. Kapoor's house once we got into the taxi and somehow it worked and we made it. As I am writing this I realize I am making this seem a lot easier than it was. Our lack of Indonesian and the absence of English speakers definitely added some road blocks throughout our trip.

To condense the day a little bit, I will just say that we had an amazing Indian-style late breakfast in my friend's house - an absolutely beautiful villa. Her father runs the textile factory in the community so his house is provide for him and it overlooks a large man-made lake that actually provides most of Jakarta's electricity through a dam. Since my friend and her family had to leave in the late afternoon to go back to Jakarta she took us down to the lake where we rented a questionably seaworthy boat for a half hour. We rode all around the lake and saw this crazy fishing village built right into the lake with stilts and barrels supporting the houses. Our boat driver even stopped at one of the restaurants, though since it looked like it was about to sink AND no one was eating since it's Ramadhan we had to pass. After the boat ride we went back to the house, ate some fruit and veggies and decided to come back to the city. On the bus ride back we noticed that a bunch of Indonesians had drinks in their hands that they all opened right as the sun was setting. Not eating or drinking in this heat because of Ramadhan is pretty unimaginable for us; we drink about 10-12 bottles of water a day. I guess we'll have to get used to the heat...

Anyway, tomorrow is the start of language classes. I'll keep you posted!

A