New?

It's amazing how quickly an old life can shed away. I don't know how it goes, but it does. Sometimes it slams a door and sometimes it leaves quietly. This one's so quiet, I can't tell if it's actually shut.

This morning I woke up to the call to prayer. I took my mandi, ate my makan pagi, dressed, packed my bag and headed off to school. I greeted each neighbor with "Assalamualaikum" and gave a big cheese smile to my new friend Rio. He's 9. Did I ever not know this life. Were these faces not with me in my childhood? I'm sometimes frightened by how familiar it seems. 

The days are long. It feels already like I've been here for months. I've never realized how much you can soak up in a day. While eating makan malam with my host family, we laugh about how much I'm going to sweat once I leave the mountains. I told them I'd run back to the village if it got too hot. I gulped down my Ibu's sweet tea and felt at ease in her laughter. I could understand almost every word. Amazing. I must've dreamt this place before. 

Hot Heat

Hot is an understatement. Curtain? no wall, No! Fortress of heat hit me as soon as I left the airport. "WELCOME!" "SELAMAT DATANG!" they shouted. It was unreal. Indonesia was here. The angkots, the food shops, the people, the sun, the volunteers were all here. If ever there was a christmas present, this was it for me. 

I wanted to laugh hysterically for hours. Was this really happening? The 11 year old in me appeared. I was where she always thought I should be. As we rode to the hotel, rolling hills appeared in the foggy distance and never was there ever a more vibrant green. When I thought the rice paddy fields couldn't be more striking, a thin silhouette of a volcano appeared behind it. I stared open-mouthed. It was happening. I was here! Thanks be to God!

The Ride

Ever felt like you were dreaming for too long. Like you were supposed to wake up, but must've died in your sleep and now you're stuck in this unending haze. That's what an airplane ride from California to Japan feels like. Longest ride of my life. In all the hours of travel the sun didn't set once. I'd wake up drooling to various parts of the movie Alien with the sun blasting through my window. To be honest, I have no idea when we landed. Our layover was only for two hours. I do however, remember the Oxygen bar. A perfectly coifed Japanese man bowed over me and hooked me up to an oxygen tank with raspberry flavoring. Mmmmmm Soma I thought before dozing off again. 

Singapore. I do remember the Singapore airport. It was like a roller rink. As large as it was, I swear I passed the same people and vitamin shops every five minutes. They rented an executive lounge for us with complimentary showers and a buffet. So I guess I had died after all and apparently gone to heaven. This was the life. Five hours later of luxury cut short and I was back on a plane. The final ride was here. Indonesia was there waiting.   

Where To?

San Francisco, California. I arrived on the west side of things. This city has that NYC vibe with cultural pockets scattered around and well dressed passerbys. It's clear i'm not apart of it. I'm the tourist, the other. I'm those who fly in and fly out with a fierce intent on taking a picture next to the Golden Gate bridge. I'm those I used to turn my nose up at and push past. Perspective. It's all new and it's about to be newer. 

I'm finally standing in line at orientation. My journey's about to begin. I hold my breath  every time someone new enters the room. Are we going to be friends? Will you accept me? Am I cool enough? Are you smarter? In any case we're all here now, business casual and ready for the worst. It feels good though. I can feel independence pulsating back into me. It's a rush. I'm on my own. 

Ice breakers later and I'm toasting to peace on earth while sharing my last cheese dish with those I've only known for a few hours. It's time. This is it. We're doing it. I find an urge to sing America the beautiful and stand up and pledge. It's crazy really. A bunch of 20/30 somethings giving it all up. 

Last night in the US of A. I can't believe I'm writing this. Next stop Indonesia.