50th Post

Here's the problem with my blogging. I start doing interesting stuff and I stop blogging. Now I'm not sure what that says about my navel-gazing tendencies or lack thereof, but it seems like there's an inverse relationship between the fun I'm having and the number of times I've posted recently.

Which means that the long silence of the last three weeks has been a really good thing for me. Actually, you might have noticed that blogging dropped off significantly after Erica arrived as there was a huge spike in fun.

The best part about having Erica there was introducing her to all my favorite things and people. She met lots of teachers (and put up with lots of teacher talk), friends from church, and people like the man who sells me phone cards and the guy I buy bakso from at school (more on bakso in a minute). She went to Monas, the national monument, Taman Safari (where she got to hold a baby orangutan, fulfilling one of the desires of her heart), and Pasa Raya, a department store with so much cool Indonesian stuff that it can overwhelm the faint of heart.

I was especially proud of converting Erica into a lover of bakso and "Bondi Rescue." Now, there is no way for me to convince anyone in writing of the superior quality of these two experiences, so don't expect to be persuaded. In fact, you can probably just add this to your files titled "Strange habits and hobbies of Laura." I'm sure there are some big ones out there.

Bakso. I avoided trying bakso for more than eight months of living in Jakarta, a classic example of judging by appearance. But the appearance of bakso is not exactly appetizing. They are a pasty grey color, their texture is a little on the rubbery side, and no one has ever been able tell me confidently what kind of meat they're made of (beef? I hope?).

http://www.flickr.com/photos/hellochris/ / CC BY-SA 2.0

However, my misgivings disappeared quickly when I found, thanks to my hosts for spring break, that these savory meatball-y things, usually served in broth with noodles, are absolutely delicious. They've become my favorite food at the school cafeteria, where the bakso man knows my "usual" now (sprouts and greens--yes please, MSG--no thank you). Even my sister, the quasi-vegetarian admitted to bakso's yumminess.

"Bondi Rescue." When I admit that one of my favorite television programs is a reality show about the lifeguards at Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, I know that I'm fighting a losing battle against saving face (there's a reason that bakso gets a picture and "Bondi Rescue" doesn't). So it won't help when I say that it's not "Baywatch," and that I've learned about how to swim safely in ocean surf, and that there are some genuinely suspenseful moments like when a riptide is washing dozens of people out to sea, or there's a shark sighting, or an infestation of jellyfish, or thieves preying on tourists. Just to make myself feel better, I like to think of it as a series of modern day hero stories. And by the time Erica left, she knew exactly when "Bondi Rescue" was aired and didn't like to be interrupted when watching it. Me, I had seen all the episodes more than once, but I'm way too excited that there'll be new ones when I get back to Jakarta.

Having Erica in Jakarta was delightful. Even that time she gave me a heart attack when she wasn't answering the phone after being out in Jakarta by herself, which--of course--meant that she had been robbed, kidnapped, or killed, causing me to run frantically through a mental list of what I should do to find a lost girl who doesn't know her way around a city of 10 million people (do I call the American Embassy? the police? my parents?). When she finally got out of the shower and answered the phone, Erica was more than a little befuddled when I immediately burst into tears of relief and said "I thought you were dead!"

And it was heavenly to have her with me on the trip home. Twenty-four hours of travel feel a lot shorter when there's someone to share it.

Since we arrived I have:
Stopped in California to visit family.
Met a new baby cousin who won me over with her irresistible cuteness.
Enjoyed drinking tap water.
Unjetlagged with a little help from my faithful friend Mr. Benadryl.
Flown to Indianapolis.
Received clean bills of health from my ophthalmologist and dentist.
Eaten Chipotle.
Missed bakso.
Shivered. To my everlasting shame.
Worn layers. To avoid shivering.
Driven eight hours to northern Michigan. (I've missed driving.)
Spent a week at Cedar Campus, my personal happiest place on Earth.
"Counseled" 17-18 year olds at Cedar Campus.
Made friends with 17-18 year olds.
Learned to play Fluxx, which I recommend.
Heard the stories of my parents who just got back from a trip to Cote d'Ivoire.
Visited my grandparents.
Delighted in Grandma's homemade bread.
Missed friends in Jakarta.
NOT worried about traffic.
NOT worried about what time it is in Indiana.
Breathed clean air.
Been overwhelmed by the sheer selection at the grocery store.
Ooed and ahhed at fireworks.
Found that celebrating nationalism seemed less important this year.
Gotten caught up with some friends.
Not gotten caught up with enough friends. I'm so sorry.
Reflected on the last year.
Gotten excited to go back.
Packed a can of pumpkin for a Thanksgiving pumpkin pie.

That's the Cliffnotes version, which means my trip here has been mostly restful and filled with good people, good places, and good food. And in a nice way, I'm ready to go back. I leave tomorrow morning (Friday), and if all goes well, I'll be in Jakarta late Saturday night (EDT).