Pass, Toss, Smash

Over the last two weeks I have joined my school's volleyball practices in the afternoons. They meet twice a week to practice and scrimmage. Before arriving the first day I thought that I was heading to an adult pick up game. This was the second time that I was told that there would be volleyball at the school and although no one showed up the first time, I had been told that it was for the teachers. I therefore jumped onto my bike wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt. I didn't want to be uncomfortable and play in pants, but I also wanted to remain relatively modest.

When I arrived at the school I was surprised to have 60 young faces turn to watch me ride into our courtyard. I was pleased to see that it was about a 60/40 boys to girls, but I was suddenly very aware of my choice in clothing. All of the girls were wearing their olahraga uniforms (gym clothes) which are comprised of a long sleeve shirt and pants. In addition to this they were all wearing jilbabs (head scarves), which is to be expected because I teach at an Islamic school. Needless to say I felt a bit more exposed than I wanted to be in front of my students. Although I often actively choose to wear clothing that is slightly less conservative than what my co-teachers and students wear in public (3/4 length sleeves on my work shirts, but always with pants or a long skirt and t-shirts and capris when going for a bike ride) I do, however, still prefer to make sure that I am not pushing the boundaries too much. On that particular day I did feel that shorts were more than I was comfortable with. Fortunately no one said a word.

I was invited over by the gym teacher and asked to introduce myself to the girls after they had warmed up. As the boys put up the nets the remaining students started doing some passing. The 20-some girls broke up into three passing lines and got moving. I made some observations first before trying to communicate with the girls.

I first did a general assessment of equipment and facilities. For 60 youngsters there are only 5 balls. I had been told that there were 8 on another day, but clearly some were out of commission. At that particular moment the girls were allowed three of these balls and the boys had two. All the balls are severely beaten up because they are indoor balls, but are played with outside on a cement surface. My eyes shifted over to the courts. The nets aren't too bad, but the poles don't have cranks and instead each has a few eye-loops to stick the net strings through. I could see that this was going to make it difficult to get the net to the right height and sure enough it was very low when I walked over. The surface of the boys court isn't too bad. It is fairly smooth, but it is also very dirty which makes it easy to slip and the cement ends only a foot beyond the end line. On the other hand the girl's court is riddled with potholes, rocks, and dirt. Because of the dirty courts the balls get covered in dust, which can be dangerous when setting.

Seeing all the students with only five balls made me laugh. I couldn't help remembering that when I coached club laughed at myself because only 2 months before I would get upset when my JV team would only have 18 balls for 14 girls. As a club coach we had 11 balls, one for each girl. It didn't seem too bad, but I would have preferred more. Now the situation was ludicrice; here the students outnumber the balls 12-1.

I then turned my attention to the girls and in an instant my coach mode kicked in. Although I wanted to correct many of them immediately I made myself observe first. Not wanting to overstep my position, I then talked to the gym teacher about their technique (well tried to anyway, my language skills weren't quite good enough). He stopped them and explained what I couldn't and then they continued. Here and there I tried to demonstrate better ways to do things individually, but overall the communication wasn't great.

After only a few minutes of passing half of the girls got on the court and scrimmaged each other. The skill level wasn't too bad, but it was on par with a high school JV team. Just like most JV teams there were a few girls that knew what they were doing and there were a lot who had some basic levels but no control whatsoever. Even those with natural talent still lacked training that you get from rigorous drills and daily practice. It is clear that these girls learn by playing. Between the lack of balls and number of students attending the practices there isn't much room to do more than just play.

As soon as I made all my observations my mind started racing with solutions. Call up people in the US and get them to donate balls. They are renovating the building right now, any chance that they will resurface the courts after the construction is done? Maybe we can split the girls up and have them come on two separate days for drill practices and technique work and then on a third day they can all come to scrimmage. Even with only five balls it my be doable.

Since this initially stream of ideas I have calmed down a bit. I had to remind myself that this isn't the US and these kids are just playing for fun. Well I do hope that all kids, whether Indonesian or American, play for fun (and also to get better), but there is no need to turn it into an American volleyball program. Although they do play teams from other schools it still not the same. The fact that these girls show up and enjoy the time that they are here is good. If I can help them even further then I will be more than happy to.

Eventually I was asked to join in and so I did.

Although the initial emotions of being back in a coaching setting was comforting, it didn't stick around long. The funny thing about an inability to communicate is that it can make even the activities that you enjoy most incredibly difficult. This is especially true when those activities involve a team where communication is critical. The funny thing about doing activities that you enjoy a lot in another country for the first time is that it shows you where your language is week. Between both experiences I realized that I need to study up on volleyball terminology so that I can simply play with them and hopefully in the long run coach them.

My games with the girls were more than a bit confusing. I know that when playing level is lower coaches tend to simplify the rotation and sometimes break the rules. It would not have been difficult to make the adjustments if I could just have figured out how they were doing it. It was obvious that they had modified their play, but I couldn't figure out how to ask them where I was in the rotation or where they are used to having their setter move from. Maybe they wouldn't have know, but it still would have been nice to ask.

At the end of my first afternoon I got to play with the big boys, literally. It was teachers (plus three students) verses boys. I enjoyed it. Because of communication I screwed up a few times, but I also managed a few good plays here and their.

All in all it has been good to be back around volleyball despite the frustrations. It was only sebentaran (for a moment) though. Tomorrow marks the start of Ramadhan which means that all extracurricular activates will stop. That topic, however, is for another day.

"KIRI (2 - 3 - 4), KIRI (2 - 3 - 4)" (written Sat. 7/23)

"KIRI (2 - 3 - 4), KIRI (2 - 3 - 4)"
is what will hear from the hours of 7-10am in the streets of East Java (and honestly probably the greater part of Indonesia) for the next few weeks. The students are preparing for "Freedom Day" on August 17, which is their equivalent of the 4th of July. This call is accompanied by the very structured military walking (almost marching) of groups of students. Each class is broken into two groups, girls and boys, and they form three straight lines, with a caller/ leader on the left.

At least two times this week the students have taken to the streets to practice their military marching. On both occasions my classes were canceled. This wasn't made known to me until an hour before my class on the first day (after I had stayed up an extra hour the night before to finish my lesson plans). I was forewarned of today's marching practice yesterday, so although I my plans have already been made, I knew that I wouldn't need to mentally prepare myself for the classroom today. I was also told today that the students will be walking Mon.-Thurs. next week as well.

Although they are currently practicing them for Freedom Day, schools also use military type organization and marching at all age levels for schools ceremonies. These are not as uncommon as the rare school assembly in the US. At most Indonesian schools there is a weekly flag ceremony on Monday mornings. I am fortunate to go to a school that does not uphold this practice, but I did experience them in my practicum school. To get organized there is usually a lot of yelling into the microphone military style "HU" type stuff. During these ceremonies students stand in the same formation they take for their current marching practices and there is a whole litany of check ins with students and administrators of various rankings. After some speeches and a recitation of 5 expectations of Indonesian students, the flag is brought to the pole (with military marching again) and then raised while the national anthem plays. These ceremonies usually last 1 jam (period), which is about 45 min.

There are a few things that I can never help thinking about when it comes to these military marching and ceremony practices. The schools spend so much time getting this right. They have started preparing for Aug. 17 a month in advance. When the students accidentally started to raise the flag upside-down at my practicum school the teachers got fidgety and upset as the students worked to correct it. These reactions contradict the reactions to student's behavior in class and these preparations for one day contradict the minimal preparations that went into the start of a new school year. With this in mind I have come to the conclusion that executing these practices is a source of pride for Indonesians.

I often wonder if this is how they choose to instill structure and discipline in their students. If this is the case I don't see it carry over into the classrooms. Often times students are quite rowdy in the class, but this is a topic for another day. Lets just say that the structure you see in these drills does not match the structure found in the classrooms or even the attitudes of the administration, faculty and students of the schools. Obviously there is simply a different values system here.

Although I have yet to experienced my first Freedom Day in Indonesia I can already tell that it will be more than a little different than from our 4th of July. It looks as if students will spend the day marching around our little city with their schools. This is therefore not a holiday for picnicking and watching fireworks at night. Oh yeah . . . and its during Ramadan, so there really won't be picnicking unless it is before 4am or after 6pm. It will definitely be an interesting experience to say the least.

Food Culture

I have almost become a vegetarian here in Indonesia. Well ok not really, but a good portion of my meals are vegetarian. I still eat meat about once every two days or so, but that is in contrast to eating meat for at least two meals a day back in the US. Not to mention every meal here is like dinner in the US, so if the situation were the same in the US then I would be eating meat for every meal.

The culture of food here is quite a bit different. Almost everyone in the house wakes up around 4:30 to pray, but if you do happen to live in a house that doesn't wake up to pray, then the women still wake up just as early to cook. A majority of the food is cooked in the morning and then left on the table so that you can come in to get food whenever you feel hungry later in the day. Indonesians stick to three meals a day just as we do, but the food is almost always the same for the entire day.

Here at permanent site my meals are almost the same everyday. There is, of course, an abundance of . . . Rice! I am in Asia and a 3rd world country after all. Every morning (and afternoon and evening as well) I can also find a pot of boiled vegetables with its stock, a plate of fried tempe (a compact block of soy beans) and tofu, and a plate of fried fish. Sometimes there is also a plate of chicken, but its not a staple. Depending on how fast all this food is eaten side dishes also become supplemented throughout the day with other food that has been purchased or cooked later. Sometimes at night my bapak goes out and buys sate (a grilled chicken skewer covered with a peanut sauce).

An interesting question that comes up when Indonesians ask about food in the US is "what is your base food?" They assume that it is bread, but we all of course know that it is not. We don't eat bread three times a day. I have told them that you may find it as toast for breakfast (but not always) and you will usually find in in a sandwich for lunch, but you don't normally see it on your dinner plate. During the first week of both of my homestays my family has bought me bread with the assumption that it would make me feel more at home. To their surprise I told them that I would rather eat rice for breakfast. I told them that I usually do not eat bread for a meal on its own. In some ways they were relieved by this because they don't see how you can be full off of bread (I have explained that I usually eat it with meat), but in other ways this confused them just as much. If bread is not our "base food" then what is?

We all know that we don't eat the same thing everyday, let alone for every meal. This is clearly a cultural difference. Maybe it is simply because we can afford variety or maybe it is because here food is what you simply need to stay alive. Either way it is different. I don't dislike the way I eat here. I think it actually makes it easier to control my intake of food (something that I have been struggling with for my entire life). It is kind of like wearing a uniform. If all the options are taken away then you don't have to worry about what you are going to wear and getting ready for work is a bit easier. I no longer think about what food would please me most at this particular moment and go searching for it. It also makes the days when I can choose food more fun. Its like dressing up a bit and allowing your desire to get a choice every now and then. All in all I think that this way of eating is working for me because there is balance.

Another difference is that meals are usually not a communal affair here. I eat most meals alone or at most with one other person. I don't know for sure why this is the case though. Some possible reasons may be that there usually isn't enough room around the table of everyone or because food may be seen as more of a necessity rather than a daily pleasure. (They certainly do find food to be a source of pleasure, but that doesn't mean that you indulge your cravings at every meal.) Overall though, I feel that Indonesians do not need family time over meals. Unlike suburban Americans, Indonesian villagers get plenty of family time throughout the day because the school and work day usually ends around 2pm. Their schedules revolve much more around the home. It is therefore not a necessity for them to take something practical like eating and turn it into family time.

Food here (and its culture) is good. I both equally enjoy it and get what I need. Balance has never come easily to me in regards to food. Hopefully I will be able to stick with the habits I have developed in the last few weeks as my time here progresses and even once I return to America.

Baby Steps- written 6/23

Almost everyday since I have arrived I have left the house at least once a day in the company of a family member or community member. This is to keep us from being "bosen" (bored) since "libur" (holidays) started on Monday. The current vacation block is their equivalent of a summer break, but since it Indonesia's school system is year around it only lasts for 3 weeks. Usually when I accompany these various people I simply walk beside them waiting for them to ask questions or explain things. I tend to still be a silent observer and I let them go about their business. When the time presents itself I join in on conversations or partake in a meal with them, but usually I am not too involved.

This morning's trip is to the local "pasar" (traditional market) where my family shops for supplies for the upcoming wedding of my host brother which will take place next week. Before we leave I am entrusted with the coin purse that contains the money for what they will buy because I have my purse with me. I don't think anything of it as we get into the family "mobil" (I think you can figure that one out) and set off for the pasar (remember?).

Pasar-pesar (pretty much all nouns in the Indonesian language are made plural by repeating it a second time) are usually very dirty places with fresh produce and meat sitting out on bamboo tables or simply splayed out upon mats on the ground. They are a bit of a contradiction because usually the food that is being sold is all local and very fresh, but place of business itself seems rather unsanitary. To complete the picture of un-cleanliness there is also usually a stench in the air. My local pasar is no exception to these expectations. As we walk through the market to a destination that my family clearly has in mind, even they are very mindful of where they put their feet.

We end up at a household supply toko (a small store owned by a local). The place is very crowded with both people and product. This store looks like a room that you would see in "Hoarders Buried Alive,"* however there is organization to it because the shopkeepers know where to find what we are looking for even if wecan't. Many of the products their do not appear new, but when the dust is wiped off of the box and the cup, bowl, or whatever it may be is taken out of the box, it is clear that it has never been used before. Never judge a product by its box.

I try to stay out of the way as my family is handed the bags, plastic spoons, and plastic baggies they are looking for. Before agreeing to the transaction they examine each thing to make sure that it is what they are looking for. A lot of conversation takes place between the shopkeepers and my host sister and Bapak. I don't understand most of it for two reasons. One: my Indonesian isn't bad, but the in last week I have realized how much I really don't know. Two: they were probably speaking a mix of bahasa** Indonesia, bahasa Madura, and bahasa Jawa (Java). I assume that most of the conversation is about price and I can tell that they aren't sure if the plastic bags that they are buying are big enough. In the end though they decide to get everything.

During all of this I simply observe like I have been doing so much in the last week. There isn't a whole lot for me to do during these outings otherwise. I try to listen and learn new words, but I can only do that for so long before my concentration breaks and it becomes pointless. At this point I usually give myself a break and just observe or let my thoughts wonder. I am therefore a little caught off guard when my sister turns to me and gestures for me to participate in what was going on. It then occurs to me that I am in position of the money they need to pay the guy. I pull out the little coin purse from my bag and hand it to her with my right hand (it is very impolite to hand something to someone with your left hand because it is considered unclean). She pays the man and then hands it back to me.

This was the first time that I have had a sort of responsibility with the family. It is a very small one, but I am still being useful in some way. As we proceed to other toko-toko I continued to play my part as the keeper of the money. Once they pick out what they want I hand over the coin purse and each time I feel a little bit more useful.

The adjustment process is still only starting here, I recognize that. I have yet to make any real contribution to the family and most of the time I feel like I am just burdening them with my need to be fed and the fact that my clothes need to be washed (I tried to let them wash my clothes but they wouldn't hear of it). PC always stresses that you should notice and celebrate your small successes. Although it seems strange to have to be successful in being able to contribute to a household, I feel that at least some baby steps are being made.

*Related to "Hoarders Buried Alive"- During PST one of my fellow PCTs and I were waiting for an angkot (public trans of sorts) across the street from a crazy old woman's house. She liked to yell out to people from her porch and her house had an eerie feel to it. It was dark even in the bright sunlight and old blackened pieces of fabric and cardboard hung all around the exterior. I asked if he had seen the show "Hoarders Buried Alive." He confirmed that he had. "Could you imagine what an Indonesian hoarder's house would look like?" I asked. He replied that he had been thinking the same thing as he stared at the same house and we both just kind of shuddered at the thought.

**As a side note bahasa simply means language and they just stick a country or region to the end of it. Java and Madura are both Indonesian islands. I live in East Java and Madura is an island to the east of Java that is considered part of East Java. I do not live on Madura, but many of the people in my city are from their. Possibly the only exceptions to the physical location rule of "bahasa" are English and Spanish because so many countries speak both and they are not physically connected to one place. Oh and Mandarin is also an exception. I suppose this is because of the many dialects in China.

The Only Roller Coaster I Don't Enjoy - written 6/22

I have lived at permanent site now for full week and within this short time I have come to understand so much more about the blog entries that I read for six months prior to actually stepping foot on Indonesian soil. I wish I could say that leaving my training village and arriving at my permanent site has been a seamless transition, but alas it has not. It has actually been a million times harder than I anticipated.

I am not sure that I had ever thought too far past PST. Sure there were times during PST where I was excited about what I would do with my students and the ways in which I would approach things differently with my new host family, but as the days towards Swearing In approached I clung to my life in Malang as hard as I could. I made sure that I didn't leave until the last possible moment and I lapped up as much time as I could with other PCTs (now PCVs!!!!) and my host family as possible. In many ways it resembled the days before my departure for PC itself. In both situations I found that although I had been excited about my new home for quite some time, I was very reluctant to leave my old one when the time came.

As I hugged my Malang Ibu goodbye we both started sobbing. I told myself that I would control it once I got into the car with my principle and one of my counterparts. For the most part I was successful with this except when my thoughts drifted back to Giripurno and my Ibu. I had become so comfortable there and we knew what to expect from each other. I really didn't want to leave.

Throughout the day I rode the rollercoaster of emotions (probably the only rollercoaster that I don't enjoy). At some moments I had total control and could even see myself start to like the people I was around and at others there was absolutely nothing I could do to control the tears.

The lowest point was when my principal and his wife were about to leave me with my host family. At that moment all I wanted to do was go into my room and cry. Unfortunately for me, however, they couldn't leave fast enough. Within seconds of this thought popping into my head the tears start pouring. The principal's wife pulled me into my room and immediately started to mop up my tears, literally. She pushed away the tears with the palms of her hands, the way she would do with a 3 year old. I tried to tell them that I was happy to be hear and that I simply missed my Malang family. Although she understood this, I had exposed myself. I know that this sometimes has its values (as one of our staff likes to put it "it shows them you are human"), but this really wasn't the time for it. I needed to be showing that I am a capable adult and loosing control of my emotions within the first hour of being in my new home was not proving this point.

In the days following my first real emotional breakdown in Indonesia, I found myself crying every day. The smallest thoughts would trigger the emotional release. Within a day I was no longer only homesick for Malang, but I was completely questioning my reasons for being her. Everyday I walk out of my bedroom and into a family room filled with four adult siblings, two spouses, two young children and of course the parents that had fostered this close and loving family. Although I didn't admit it to myself right off the bat (or maybe I just couldn't recognize it initially) I was jealous of their proximity to family. They see one another everyday and the sudden realization that I would be missing out on two years of life with my parents, family and friends consumed me.

In this particular situation I was fortunate for two things: 1) that I have battled with my mind on enough occasions to recognize when I need to talk myself down; 2) that I am a bit too prideful. Usually my pride is troublesome and ironically its not something I am proud of. It was proven useful, however, when my instinct was to bolt. It made me think about what others will think about my decision (again not the most mature thought process) and then eventually it led me to wonder what I would eventually think of myself later in life (a tad bit more mature I think). When I realized that I would probably not forgive myself for skipping out on PC without a good reason my ability to talk myself down kicked in.

As much as I would love to be surrounded by family and friends for the next two years, the reality is that my best friends are spread out along the east coast and some are even on the other side of the country.

As much as I miss spending the evenings and weekends with my parents, the reality is that if I had not chosen to go into the PC I would now be living on my own and not in a household similar to the traditional, multigenerational Indo household that I am currently living in. And finally if I were back in the US I would not be missing my family or friends nearly as much (or even at all; sorry I really do love you all) as I do here in Indo. I would probably be continuing my tornado of a lifestyle and wouldn't even have time to think about the fact that I wasn't with the people I loved most in the world everyday. None of these thoughts would have even occurred to me in the US.

So every time I get upset (I just tried to spell that as "ubset" : this is a sign that I am becoming Indonesian because here Bs and Ps are almost indistinguishable) about missing home, I now I have a way of talking myself down. This is good. This whole emotional coaster did lead me to the conclusion, however, that I refuse miss out on my family and friends in a different way than I would have in the US (sorry I know that sentence doesn't make much sense but I couldn't figure out how to word it properly).

I have therefore decided that I will absolutely pay for a decent internet connection. This is something that I was hoping to avoid because it doesn't seem PC. I have been advised by people on staff not to think of purchasing things that would make life a bit easier as "non-PC." They give us this advice when we talk about the fact that we aren't living in mud huts or with limited electricity the way other volunteers around the world are and also when we talk about our reservations about the internet. Well I am choosing to take their advice. PC is not a single experience shared by all volunteers world wide. Everyone has similarities, but even within a single country or city, volunteers have completely different experiences. I am choosing to build new relationships with the people I meet here, but I want to make sure that I have a way to strengthen the relationships I have at home. You know "make new friends, but keep the old."

A Test, A Trip, and A Future Home

This past week has been filled with a few milestones that are not exclusive to PC Indonesia, but instead markers in your time as a PC trainee despite your country. The first was our language test which happened last Saturday, the second was our first solo (but still guided and heavily monitored) trip to see current PCVs and their villages (this milestone is a little less global, but it isn't uncommon for PCTs), and the last was the big announcement of where we will be living for the next two years. If you have already checked out my Facebook, then you may have already seen it, but in this entry I will save that for later.

So first: A Test

The language final was all spoken and some listening. I personally didn't find it that nerve-racking although there were certainly people who did. It was a 20 minute test where we described our lives in our PST villages, compared a couple of pictures (usually of something native to Indonesia and what its counterpart would be in the US), and finally had a conversation with our test partner.

As a side note: My test partner was El. She was my roommate during our two night stay in CA and our overnight in HK. We bonded over our lack of appetites in San Fran, but also the mutual thought that we should have something to eat in case we got hungry. We live in different villages, but it seems that PC likes to pair us so we had the pleasure of sharing our final language test.

The test was fairly natural. I am by no means fluent, but what I was familiar with came out smoothly enough. There were certainly areas where I was less practiced and those weren't as easy, but overall I wasn't horrified by any part of my performance. I faced a few areas where I wished I had been able to recall vocabulary better than I had, but like I said before, your brain can only handle so many words a day. As El and I walked back to where all the other trainees were waiting, we joked about how our tester was on his Blackberry the entire time booking our flights back to VA.

We did get test results back yesterday and it seems like everyone is staying haha. But seriously, PC does try to work with people if their language skills aren't quite where they should be. They set up a language plan on how they can continue self study or find tutors once they end up at site. Even if you are not behind at this point, self study is still essential. Although we have learned enough to communicate our needs and have the ability to navigate transportation and markets, the best of us are still far from understanding everything that is talked about. PC provides us with funds to get tutoring during our first year at site. I will probably initially use this for bahasa Indonesian, but depending on how my Indo goes, I may also seek out tutoring for bahasa Java in a few months as well.

Although Indonesian is the official language of the country, it is fairly new and was developed as a way of unifying the islands. Each island has at least one local language, and many have multiple. These local languages tend to be even more complex than Indonesian because they have been around for so much longer. For example bahasa Java has 4 levels and almost every word in every level is different (including numbers). Almost all of the current volunteers have said that most of their colleagues and the students speak bahasa Java so it would be good to know enough to understand what they are talking about.

Well now I have gone off on a language tangent.

So back to the title: A TRIP

On Monday we went to visit current volunteers in their villages to get a feel of what village life would be like. Although every site is very different (and they really are) it gave us the ability to see what it will be like when we are on our own and a year out from where we are now. I went to visit Sa in Magetan, which is close to Central Java. Her village is a lot quieter than where we are now. This was a bit of a relief to see because our villages here are a little more urban and are always noisy.

Most of Monday was spent traveling. Because my site visit was one of the farthest I had to leave my village at 5am. Our group then drove to Surabaya where we hopped on a bus to Magetan. The trip was hot, long, and at times a little confusing. We certainly paid more than PC had allotted us for that first trip because we were put on a direct route bus. We thought we were paying more for AC, but as it turns out the cheap, bus had better AC than the expensive bus The trip on the way back was significantly more comfortable and cheaper, but there were many more stops and more sellers/ musicians on the bus trying to make money off of you.

On Tuesday I accompanied Sa to school and helped out with her three classes. It was the last week of class so they mostly did activities. I found it pretty easy to jump in and help out, though I will admit that when given the option to come up with a lesson plan and try out my ideas, I did recoil. I couldn't think of anything that I have been itching to try out and even in my practicum school I didn't feel comfortable coming up with lesson plans without first observing the class. I know that I won't have this option when the school year starts, but at least they will be my own class and I will be starting from scratch.

I also helped out with Sa's after school "Less" groups. I don't know if that is an acronym for anything, but they are essentially groups where students get an extra hour of enrichment in different subjects afterschool. The kids go to different ones everyday and it seems like Sa has a few different groups of kids who all come to her for English. The two I worked with on Tuesday were a 5th grade group and a 4th grade and under group (the under went all the way to pre-K). The kids are really cute and anxious to learn, which is very impressive. I could see this as a great way to work with different age groups.

During both my nights with Sa we talked a lot and she shared her first year experiences. It was just nice to be able to spend time with a PCV and be able to ask questions. I am sure I came off as super idealistic to her, but I suppose that is the way it goes. As I learned during my second summer at Camp Fraser, you can tell people all you want about what will come, but you can never fully prepare someone for a cross-cultural experience; it simply must be lived. I'm glad I understand that, but having that knowledge doesn't change the unknown.

Nonetheless, some time spent away from Malang and our hectic PST schedules and some time with the experienced ones was much appreciated.

On Wednesday it was back to site, and I spent the remainder of the day trying not to let the excitement of Thursday let time go by slower.

And now for the big news: A Future Home

Yesterday was the big day. After seven weeks (but really 6 months) of waiting we were told where our permanent sites are located. This process started long before we arrived in Indonesia. First they looked for good schools and then they looked for good housing situations in those school's villages. PC Indo had a huge list of them and during our second week we were interviewed for placement. Since then, we have just been waiting (and learning a lot in the mean time of course).

At this point I could explain more about the interview process and keep you hanging in the same way PC kept us hanging for the last two months. I mean I know you are all at the edge of your seats and waiting to put your extensive knowledge of Indonesian geography and cultural differences of East Java into use the second you read where I am going. Actually that tidbit of sarcasm doesn't just apply to you, but it applies to us as PSTs as well. Even with our placements in hand we still know nothing about our new homes aside from the few facts that two pieces of paper have told us. But look at me rambling, I have now postponed the announcement even further. Let me tell you that is how the PC works sometimes; you just have to role with it.

Drum roll please : drdrdrdrrdrrrddrdrrdrdrdrrdrrdrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr (is that how you type a drum roll?) and my new home is :

Situbondo . . . well kind of. It actually isn't located in the city at all it is a town west of Situbondo. I was going to write the name of it (because it is pretty amusing) but we aren't supposed to give our exact whereabouts on the internet and I am afraid that giving you the name of it might be a little too revealing. If you are interested let me know.

I will tell you what I know: This town is located almost halfway between Propolinggo and Situbondo. These cities are in east East Java on the northern coast. Although I would probably be only about an hour from the port to Bali if Indonesia had US highways, I am probably about 3 hrs away by Indonesian busses. Judging from Google earth I am about 3km away from the ocean. This hopefully means beautiful sunrises, but it also means "watch out for tsunamis." (I don't know if this area has ever had a tsunami, but after Japan I feel like anyone living close to a coast should be wary.) Now my friends, I have provided you with a map so when you hear something on the news about Indonesia, please look at the map that the news provides you and don't be concerned unless it is in a similar location with the map I have provided you.

Map of Indonesia

Map of East Java:

I don't know a whole lot about anything.

I know that I will be teaching at a MAN school. This is a madrasah, which means it is a Muslim school. From what I have been told that means that all women teachers and female students are required to cover their hair, although most schools are understanding of non-Indonesian/ non- Muslim teachers. Although I do not yet know for sure, I do not think that I will have to wear a scarf and if I am given the option I will opt to not wear it. My school is supposedly very much into volleyball/ sports in general and music.

I don't know much about my host family. It looks as if I will be living with an older (but not old) couple who have children that are in their late 20s. My sheet didn't tell me who was in the household, but one worker showed me a sheet with about 6 names. Another PC staff who went to visit the family believes that they currently have 1 daughter still living with them. It sounds like all of their children are teachers, so that should be interesting.

I don't know a whole lot else. As I said before, this really didn't tell us much. I ask if would have a church close by and it has been confirmed that I do. It also looks like I will have internet access at work, although I think I will pay for it at home too. Other than that I know how close I will be to other volunteers. It doesn't look like I will be able to reach anyone's site within an hour, but there are a few with whom I could meet half way and have it only be about 45min. This is comforting because site visits did show me (and I believe many others had the same experience) that despite attempts to integrate well, PCVs are really your support system. Although I don't know much I am content and certainly happy for the time being.