Mau Ke Mana?

Whenever an Indonesian sits down to eat, he will announce "makan" to everyone who is nearby ("eat") in a gesture of offering his own food for all. This is a bit confusing the first few times you hear it, as they really seem to be asking you to share their food. Of course they're not really. It's a custom. Nonetheless, should one accept the offer, the person eating would be constrained to actually share. In a like manner, whenever an Indonesia person is about to go somewhere, he will announce that he is about to do so, almost as if asking permission. An answer is also expected, for the sense is that he may not depart until given leave. "Pulang dulu," he will say (or something similar) -- I'm going home now. At that point you must say "See you later," or "be careful," or give some other form of acknowledgement. The person simply will not leave until he receives the acknowledgement. If you yourself are walking somewhere, or preparing to go somewhere on your bike or in your car, you will invariably be asked "Mau ke mana?" -- Where are you going? If you are coming back from somewhere, they will ask "Dari mana?" -- Where have you been? To a Westerner it seems almost nosy; but, again, it is a custom. And, again, you must answer, or appear quite rude.

Mister Richard

People here in Indonesia commonly misuse the word "mister." They want to use it in the sense that they themselves use the word "Bapak," which is a respectful way of addressing a male. So while it would be common for them to say "Bapak Richard," it is of course weird to say "Mister Richard." There is a politeness and respect in this culture that just doesn't really exist in America anymore. When I was young, for instance, we would pretty commonly use the term "Sir" if addressing someone older or someone in authority, but even this is uncommon these days. Nonetheless, Indonesian people are just very reticent to use first names unless they know someone intimately. In the case of women, it is either Ibu or Mbak (for a married or older woman, or a single or younger woman respectively). So I am either Bapak or Tuan (the latter being used only for a foreigner), but almost never Richard.

And The Beat Goes On

It seems at present quite certain that we will soon move to one or the other of two houses. Certainty, however, is most certainly a matter of general uncertainty on the island of Bali.

The first of these two abodes is one we had looked at from the outset of our search. Located in Biaung, 15 minutes north of Sanur, it is larger than our present home and also has a yard and patios. This goes for 2000 USD a year (as compared to the 4000 we would be paying otherwise). The catch on this one is that the landlord’s daughter may or may not decide to move to Bali from Java. This we will know (as is said anyway) by the end of this month.

The second house is also located in Biaung, actually on the same street, and it is smaller, with only one bathroom, but goes for 1500 a year. The catch here is that the man who is living in the house doesn’t want to move, nor does he want to pay rent. He has been told (as is said) that he must vacate by June 1st.

So there you have it.

The beat goes on.

A Happy Marriage

On the laptop this morning an ad popped up which read "Find a Muslim Husband," and pictured a happy, hopeful looking young woman in traditional garb. Hmm. I should have thought that finding a Muslim husband would be more a matter of ill fortune, to be avoided if at all possible.

Okay, so that's not very nice of me, but it is the impression we are left with after any kind of exposure to news of wife abuse and religious control freaks. So many rules, so few perks (or so it seems to the Westerner). Perhaps we are just not hearing the whole story. After all, why shouldn't a woman be compelled to walk behind her husband at all times? It simply shows due respect, right? Or why should a woman have the same rights as a man? Why shouldn't the man alone have the the right to divorce? He is the man, right? What does a woman's marriage have to do with the woman? It's all about the man. Right? Or why should the woman have any legal recourse if beaten or abused? She is just a woman, right?

Sheesh.

Just One Cup of Coffee, Please

The poorer a people are, the more greedy they become. A scarcity of money adds all the more to the value of the same. Greed is good, right? Well, greed is at least necessary in conditions of continual poverty. Every penny counts.

I had become accostumed for a time to visiting a particular restaurant on the beach, where I would order a cappuccino and take my laptop along to do some writing. Just as I had been accostumed to doing back in Portland, I would nurse down my cup of coffee while I worked on a story. It's a relaxing sort of situation for me and always seemed much preferable to an over-quiet room or my own desk at home. John Cheever once said that he would dress everyday as if for work, drive to an office he had rented, and then write there, as this gave the pursuit a greater sense of purpose, becoming something that was habitual, just like a job, and not open to the hundreds of altnernative options one might otherwise entertain.

So I would go down to the beach and sit at my table and order my coffee, and this seemed both familiar and also condusive to a good couple hours of work. However, I began to understand at some point that the management at this particular restaurant would much prefer me to order more than one cup of coffee. "Just coffee?" they would say. Nothing else? Maybe breakfast? How about a pastry?" I realized by and by that as far as they were concerned, I was not doing my part. They had much to offer, for a much greater price, and I ought to be ordering much more than a cup of coffee--especially considering the inexhaustible riches I possess as an American.

And so it became uncomfortable. Given that money was so much needed, I could not justify my presence for a single cup of coffee; and given that I have no money to speak of (despite nonnegotiable beliefs to the contrary), I could not justify spending funds I did not have just to try to make myself more comfortable.

Therefore, I no longer go to that restaurant.

In America we have Starbucks. People go to Starbucks every day for a single cup of coffee. They sit as long as they like with their single cup of coffee and are never begged nor badgered into ordering more. This, of course, is because Starbucks, in their great bounty, does not need to scrape and scrabble for nickels and dimes. For the restaurant or warung on the beach, however, the competition is stiff, for there is another next door, and next door to that, and so on all the way from Sindhu to Kuta. To order no more than a single cup of coffee seems to them unkind, even careless.

They need the money. It is a personal thing for each and every employee, from waitress to cook to cashier. They are not being paid by the regional office--no, their money is coming straight from the individual customer. If the customer is from America, or from Europe, or from Japan, he must surely have money, and the very reason he is here in Bali can only be in order to share his wealth. He is therefore a rude, incalcitrant, unfeeling man who will order but one cappuccino and believe he has done well.

Disewa 3

Well, as my grampa, whom I never met, used to say, "Never count your chickens before they're hatched." Or at least I suspect he used to say so. And this appears to be the byword as far as rentals in Bali are concerned. In other words, we may not have found a house afterall. First the owner said Yeah, it's for rent, and you can move in by the end of February. Then she called back the next day and said it was for rent but also for sale, and wouldn't we like to buy it? (Fat chance). At that time she said that we could tour the house on Saturday. However, the next day she called and said the house could not be toured until the 16th. Now WTF is going on? It's really so typical. Perhaps they found out somehow that I am a bule, and so decided the house was for sale. Who knows. But the long and short is that we are still up in the air and still looking. Damn!

Disewa 2

Good news, potentially ... we may have found a house. This is in Biaung, some 15 minutes away from where we are right now in Sanur. It is a larger house for half the price, and is in a much quieter area. So we're keeping our fingers crossed. Another plus is that it is right down the street from our friends, Victor and Iluh. In the meantime, anyone wanting to donate money to the poor, unemployed, and retired fund (PURF), may feel free to do so.