tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55735279172809024602024-03-21T22:22:27.909-07:00Indonesia 2012amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-64245566260064713892012-08-07T22:21:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:51:58.485-07:00A Final ReflectionI've been home for several days now. My kids are accustomed to my presence again. Cade has finally stopped following me in to the bathroom and hanging on to my leg as I walk through the house. Ethan has stopped asking questions (about Indonesia). My husband is back to work. Aside from my ailing stomach, life is back to normal... or is it?<br />
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I told my dear friend the other day that I find myself being more patient and understanding with people. I look at my home, my school, and my town differently. I always tell my students how lucky they are to live in the United States, but I feel like this is the first time I REALLY get it. I can breathe the air, I can drink the water, I can afford to buy whatever I need, even on a teacher's salary. I am not judged or limited because of my gender. I have health care, waste management, and no worries of regularly scheduled black-outs due to shortage of electricity. I have air-conditioning, toilets, and an actual shower. Money does not dictate whether or not my children can attend public school and university is not a dream for only a select few. Yes, there is MUCH to be grateful for.<br />
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I've been communicating with several of my Indonesian colleagues/friends. I remember their kindness and smiles. I appreciate their desire to continue to collaborate and learn. I think of the "girl in pink", the "chocolate milk boy", the junior high "groupies", the thumb game boy, the alumni, and the student council and I pray for them. I pray for all of the students we met. I hope they will continue to see the value of education. I hope they will make a difference in their country which so desperately needs young people to pave the way. <br />
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I've tried to accurately portray my experiences, but it's so difficult to capture the true beauty of Indonesian culture. I've concluded that the traditional dance, music, art, and even the religion which so often defines them, do not define Indonesian culture for me. It's the people - the warm, intelligent, beautiful people who welcomed me and treated me with kindness, affection, and love. And for that, I will forever be grateful for this remarkable experience.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-62323521468649914042012-08-05T08:14:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:50:57.804-07:00Are We There Yet?After squeezing in three hours of sleep (I was just too excited), we loaded our ten tons of luggage and left the Park Hotel by 4:30 a.m. Amazingly, and for the first time, we did not sit in any traffic in Jakarta. I guess the trick is to travel at unreasonable hours. At the airport, it was time to split. Laura was staying and traveling on to India. Heather, Nancy, Jeanne, Arlis, and Cora were headed to Bali. Some quick hugs and I, with my crew (Jen, David, Jodi, Daniel, and Susanna) headed in to the airport.<br />
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We did some last minute splurge shopping, got a delicious Starbucks, and made our way to our gate. I was able to FaceTime with my family and I nearly burst. I wanted to jump through the screen and hug them I was so excited. Only 22 hours on 3 planes, 8 hours of layover, and a 1 1/2 hour drive separated us. 31 1/2 hours... but who is counting?<br />
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The flights were as expected: full, cramped, exhausting. I had high hopes to get home a little earlier. There were two earlier flights from LAX to Sac, but it would be close. I prepared Jen and we committed to running if necessary. All hope quickly died when we sat on our plane in Hong Kong for over an hour as a passenger who had "medical problems" had to leave. I understood the medical issue, but I could not understand as we had to watch all of the cargo from the plane be removed to search for the passenger's piece of luggage. Bye bye early connection.<br />
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I had little to no sleep on any of the flights. Maybe it was because I was uncomfortable, excited, or overly-exhausted, but I was delirious by the time we reached LA. I just wanted to be home! It was sad to say goodbye to the crew. Jodi had to sprint for her connecting flight to Utah, Daniel was home, David left for Oklahoma and Susanna had a long day of travel back to DC. And then there were two. After three short (but frustrating) delays, Jen and I finally headed on our last leg to Sacramento. I probably slept more on that short flight than I had on any of the others.<br />
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I wanted to sprint off the airplane. As I walked through the airport in a blur, I could see my husband waiting and I could no longer hold back the tears. <br />
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Our drive was quick. I actually stayed awake and we chatted the entire way home. All I could think about was looking at my babies. I rushed in to the house, which felt strangely foreign, and went to their rooms. I stared at Ethan and kissed him. He woke, confused, and then an enormous smile overtook his face. I could have wept with happiness. I examined my baby Cade and he looked so long and lean now. I kissed him and he pushed me away (so appropriate for this child). <br />
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I don't think I have ever been this happy to be home in my life. Brushing my teeth with tap water for the first time in over three weeks was glorious. Climbing in to my own bed provided the most restful sleep I've had in nearly a month. It's good to be home.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-70567052423480399082012-08-05T07:32:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:50:01.702-07:00Final Meet and EatOur final full day in Indonesia... I could feel the excitement building. I surveyed all my bags and met Jen and some of the others for a late breakfast. (Last time to see fried fish, rice, and noodles in the breakfast spread.) I savored my last bites of fresh papaya and prepared for a long day of debrief meeting.<br />
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There was much to discuss: what we observed, what we learned, what we still questioned. I was surprised at the variety of our experiences and felt fortunate that Jen and I had advocated for ourselves to allow time for teaching and observation at five different schools, each offering something unique. It seems we had the most to compare, although I wish we had an opportunity to see a vocational school which sounded pretty amazing. <br />
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Another large component of our meeting was reviewing and preparing for the remaining pieces of our capstone project which is due in September. I found that I completely refocused my project after my experiences and observations. I'm excited about the potential but know I have quite a bit to complete before the due date. I came to the point that I could no longer work; my brain finally said, "Enough". We ended by writing letters to ourselves. I found myself getting emotional recounting my lessons and epiphanies. It was a powerful way to end a powerful journey.<br />
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Although drained, many of us wanted to do as much as possible before leaving. A group of us headed out to shop. After a disappointing adventure back to the mini-Indonesia store (because it was closed), we ventured to a mall (after nearly dying crossing streets). With purchases in hand, we returned to the hotel in search of a fun, unique, and nearby restaurant to celebrate our final Indonesian meal together.<br />
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We hit the jackpot finding Lara Djong Grang, a spectacular Indonesian restaurant. From the moment we arrived, we appreciated the decor. Gorgeous lanterns and Balinese statues welcomed us. The menu seemed to have endless choices and when our food arrived, it appeared none of us made a poor choice. Perfect food, drink, and company. Laughing and smiling... it was a perfect way to end our time.<br />
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Back in my hotel room, I hung my clothes for tomorrow. I repacked my bags for the last time and smiled. With excitement building, I knew sleeping would be difficult, but somehow I drifted away thinking of my husband and boys' faces.</div>
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amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-86720205447571102262012-08-04T09:46:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:47:21.562-07:00A Spicy TreatNot feeling completely recovered from yesterday, I finished up my packing. Thank goodness Jen had the foresight to bring a huge extra duffle bag that we shared for our dirty clothes. I never would have had enough room to get everything I purchased and was gifted home (even with the extra bag I bought!). We crammed in our last clothes and headed down for our last hotel breakfast in Tangerang. As we ate, we really appreciated how fortunate we were. We had amazing accommodations. Judging from our communication on Facebook, some of our colleagues had not been even a fraction as fortunate, so we savored our beautiful breakfast spread. With one last run to our Starbucks, we were ready. (I will miss the call for "Miss Amy" at coffee!)<br />
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The driver, Yuna, and her husband picked us up and we all noted how our luggage had almost doubled. Let's just say that we helped the Indonesian economy a bit. Jen and I had asked Yuna to take us to the Port of Jakarta, a significant place in history. The port served as the major trade center over the centuries. The Portuguese first arrived in 1513, followed by the British, and of the course, the Dutch; these were only some of the foreigners who traveled to the "Spice Islands" for their precious resources.<br />
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We began at the Spice Trade Museum. We climbed eight leaning floors of the ancient (and rather precarious) stairs. At the top, we had a wonderful view of some of the ships and the surrounding area, which now included lots of vendors and polluted water. I was even brave enough to take the stairs to the very top of the building (literally, on the roof). I was not brave enough to actually stand on the ancient tiny platform - my family would have scolded me for going up there to begin with!<br />
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We walked over to massive Dutch buildings which now house a maritime museum which tells the history of the Port of Jakarta and shows model boats and actual boats which once floated in these waters. The large stone buildings and enormous wooden doors were made in the late 1600's/early 1700's which were marked above doorways. It was incredibly interesting to learn about the endless visitors who selfishly came to rob this country of spices, slaves, and many goods. This felt like the most historically significant place we had been to during our time in Indonesia.<br />
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Although our bags were overflowing in the car, we could not resist stopping by a few of the nearby shops. Yuna and her husband explained many of the unusual cooking utensils being sold. Jen and I were both amazed by the musical instruments in some of the shops and couldn't resist purchasing a little something.<br />
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We then drove over to the actual Port of Jakarta. What seemed like thousands of boats crammed practically on top of each other lined the dock. It was incredible. The massive ships towered over us and could not hide their age. It seemed every ship had a story. The workers who rested on board wore the look of tired, ancient men. It was almost like stepping in to a piece of history. Some bugis pinisi boats throughout the port, which were used by the first Islamic traders, were essentially identical to the ones originally used. Even today, this port is Indonesia's largest and is used as it has been for centuries with an annual capacity for 45 million tons of cargo.<br />
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Fortunately, Yuna's husband made nice with the crew of a ship who allowed us to board, which is easier said than done. You must carefully cross a long wooden board across the water which is quite dangerous. I was the first to volunteer. (I don't know what I was thinking! I think I was caught up in the historical romanticism of the moment.) With the help of Yuna's husband and a crew member, who I am certain hadn't showered in a year, I made it across and aboard the incredible vessel. Jen followed and after some major coaxing, we were able to get Yuna to come too.<br />
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The boat was out of a time machine. Carefully crossing single boards, we could see the cargo down below. The filthy crew examined us as though we were aliens as we made our way up to the top of the ship. The captain looked like a giant Samoan and wore only a Batik sarong around his waist. He looked as though he could kill a man with a single squeeze. We decided to get out of his bubble very quickly. I'm sure the crew wondered what these silly foreigners were doing, but it was an absolutely amazing opportunity which I am certain we would not have been able to experience without Yuna's husband.<br />
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It was time to make the trip back to the Park Hotel in Jakarta. Our adventure with Yuna was time to come to a close. We unloaded all of our bags and said our thanks and goodbyes to Yuna, her husband, and our driver. While leaving that part of the journey was somewhat sad, I was happy to be back to our starting point and excited to be reunited with our colleagues.<br />
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After some miscommunication, which tends to be a common problem in Indonesia, Jen and I did not get to see the group until much later. So, we treated ourselves to a foot/leg massage (60 minutes for $10). It was a slice of heaven and just what we needed. Once done, the group arrived and it felt a little like seeing family. We happily greeted each other and shared our experiences.<br />
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We made a quick run to a bead mart where many bought stones, rings, and other jewelry. We came back to dinner and then had a long meeting to start our debrief process. It was clear that we all had unique experiences, so it was interesting to learn even more about the Indonesian education system and culture.<br />
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Some of us wanted to unwind and really share the good, the bad, and the ugly so we grabbed some cocktails and met in my room. Jen and I brought our beloved Cotton Buns for the group to enjoy, so we ate, drank, talked and laughed sharing our stories. It felt so good to be honest and find comfort with others. What a great group of people. One day left and we're on our way home so I can see my favorite group of people!<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-77823313230324571472012-08-03T08:00:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:38:26.663-07:00Unspeakable Yummy and Unspeakable DiscomfortThis morning started off lovely. We slept in for once (although I don't think neither Jen nor I actually sleep much on any given night). We had our ritual hotel breakfast and crossed the mall to our Starbucks where we could take our time and talk over coffee. It felt like a hanging out at home with a girlfriend. <br />
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We were picked up by our driver and rushed to school even though it was Saturday. (Cendekia conducts some classes, like drawing and music, on Saturdays.) We were to meet with a group of students who served on the equivalent to a student government. I was very excited to meet with them although I had no clue what the agenda was. At this point, I've learned to roll with the punches.<br />
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Jen and I were greeted at the school by about a dozen students, including Tsamara, Nurul, Arafah, Dini, Shabrina, Mohamad, Lathifah, Farris, Rizki, and Miszzuddin. We were pleased to see that the students were not in uniform today, which gave a relaxed air of ease and freedom. The student body president began by giving a brief powerpoint and presentation highlighting how difficult it is to get admitted to the school (4,000 apply, 120 acccepted). He also discussed their many accolades, course offerings (band, theater, marching, choir - many of which we never saw), dances, and activities. It was all very interesting information, but I wondered why we hadn't started our experience with this presentation rather than end with it.<br />
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I shared the video about my school made by the House of Blue. The students were very intrigued and had a lot of questions. Our question and answer session was the best we had - probably because this was the first time we were with a large group of students and NO faculty. I feel like the students spoke more freely and we both benefited from the conversation. I was surprised to learn that all of the students had parents who were college grads which means that this school serves a population where education is valued and expected. I questioned whether if it further divides the haves and have nots. I was impressed with the problems the students recognize in their country and their good intentions to create change.<br />
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After the meeting, we happened to run in to a small group of alumni students. They were just as giddy and excited to meet with us as the high school students. They were all at university and told us how much Cendekia had prepared them for college. The alumni also clearly wanted to come to the U.S. and showered us with questions. They even pulled us from our car to take pictures. Celeb status continues.<br />
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Back at our mall, we had a wonderful, huge lunch. We couldn't help but giggle at the "frogs" section in the menu. The captions were especially humorous. "Unspeakable yummy" will forever describe Kermit. Jen settled for her "pillows of yum" (AKA tofu) and we left very full, happy, and ready for an adventure to Giant to bargain for more goods.<br />
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Our driver picked us up earlier than normal to make the drive to Yuna's home for breakfast. We knew it would take quite some time, but we had no idea. We sat (in park) in solid traffic for at least 25 minutes before we could continue on. Over two hours later, we arrived at Yuna's. Yuna, her husband, and their darling nephew welcomed us. I think we were just thrilled to be out of the car.<br />
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We entered and sat on the floor as we had done at all the breakfasts. I could see that Yuna's husband had made the extra effort to get us a variety of their delicious mangos and even a durian, which I've been dying to try! After one bite of fruit, I could have been happy eating nothing but fruit. Unspeakable yummy! We quickly dined on a huge spread of food. Yet again, our host went way overboard; it was a very nice gesture.<br />
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Yuna was kind enough to give us a tour of her beautiful home. She was very proud of her stone walkway (which she made), bead room, floor to ceiling bookshelf, special recliner, and washing machine. It sounds strange, but I felt guilty looking at her prized possessions and home which I concluded could fit in a quarter of my house. I have more "stuff" in one room than she does in her entire home. Difficult to swallow.<br />
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It was time for us to go to the Golden Mosque. Yuna's nephew was to accompany us; he reminded me so much of my son - same age, same talkative nature. It made my heart ache. When we arrived at the Golden Mosque, we could not believe our eyes. It was an enormous structure with granite and literal gold! We walked through and even observed some Muslims praying. (Men and women pray separately.) We learned that the Golden Mosque, massive meeting building, and equally massive home took seven years to build and were funded by one woman who occasionally visits. Looking at the buildings and grounds, I can only imagine what the final bill was.<br />
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After the mosque, we dropped Yuna and her family back home and spent two and a half hours in the most insane traffic I could ever imagine. I will never be accustomed to watching four people on a motorbike with no helmets and attempting to weave through any hole in traffic they can or the babies who are held on the back of the bike or the waves of visible exhaust that fill the air all around. It's simply mind boggling. <br />
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It had been a long, exhausting day. Jen and I were eager to retire, but we had to start packing. We had an early morning of activities and then we were heading back to Jakarta to meet with our group. I'm filled with excitement to see the crew and swap stories. And then there's the fact that we only have a few more days and I get to go home to my beautiful family. Unspeakable yummy indeed.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-18905558945763178382012-08-01T10:16:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:32:27.601-07:00Chocolate Milk and Other GiftsAs usual, we were not sure of what today would hold. We arrived at the school expecting to meet with the staff who Yuna told us were particularly interested in hearing about Jen's "green school" and my IB program. Once there, she told us we would have to wait about half an hour. I tried not to be annoyed. Jen and I gulped looking at the room full of chairs wondering how large of a group we would be speaking to. Time passed and only a couple of teachers wandered in. We watched as Yuna tried to pull in a few more and the Assistant Principal joined us. Eight people. So much for a large audience. Yuna said, "Oh. Most are teaching a class right now." I couldn't figure out why a meeting like this would be scheduled during class time!<br />
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The meeting itself started very awkwardly. The teachers seem even more intimidated to use their English with us than the students! We shared about what it means to be a green school in the U.S. and the teachers seemed dumbfounded. It's clear the educators in Indonesia want their students to care about the earth, recycling, pollution, etc., but they do not have a clue how/where to start. We tried to provide them with simple steps and shared what our schools do, but you could sense their skepticism. Although I had prepared quite a bit of information on the IB program, no questions were asked, even when I prompted the discussion. The administrator was more interested in learning about the "Seattle sound" (the music scene); he spouted off American bands and expressed his interest to come to the U.S. for concerts. Obviously, it was not the discussion we hoped for.<br />
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Yuna's principal joined us at the end of the meeting and thanked us for all we had done. He presented us with a lovely bag filled with mementos for MAN Insan Cendekia. We especially love the "I love Cendekia" t-shirts. It was a thoughtful gesture. We, in turn, presented the principal and teachers who attended with gifts. It warmed my heart to make them honorary Vikings and to see the principal still wearing my school's lanyard later in the day.<br />
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We were really looking forward to our next adventure. We had met a young man, Charles Albert, in one of our early meetings in Jakarta. He was extraordinary - well spoken and progressive and the principal of an International school. We were thrilled to receive an invitation to visit, so Charles arranged for a driver to pick us up.<br />
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I felt giddy with anticipation as we arrived at Sekolah Tunas Indonesia. We were immediately met by Charles and Mr. Paul, a British man who was hired to help the students with their conversational English. We had not realized, but Charles' school was connected to a junior high and elementary school. All three levels were connected physically and clearly interconnected educationally. Charles brought us in to an office where we met his "boss", a woman who served as a director of the entire international program. It was impressive to see a female in charge of such an organization.<br />
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Mr. Paul then escorted us through the school, which was open and green. It looked like it belonged to the students with bright colors, plants, toys, etc. Charles wanted us to see all three schools so Mr. Paul took us to a first grade classroom. Upon entry, a little boy looked over and his mouth gaped open in utter amazement. Mr. Paul introduced us and the children smiled from ear to ear. We started to engage in discussion when a boy asked, "Do you like chocolate milk? Would you like one?" I could have died of the cute overload. The children asked questions and I marveled at how outstanding their English was in first grade. Some of them even sounded American! The milk boy was standing and asking a question when I took a picture and he said, "No, no! Do not take a picture of me. I am not special. I am just an ordinary boy." I think I could have lived in that classroom.<br />
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We were then taken to the high school section of campus where Charles eagerly awaited. He took us to a music class where students played the gamelan, traditional Indonesian music. It was beyond beautiful. Two teachers sat up front, one playing a drum and giving instruction and the other singing and giving cues. (This reminded me so much of the music class I observed at the school in Bali.) What a lovely treat!<br />
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Charles then brought us to a large area where students were gathering (both seated and standing). There were "hot seats" for the American visitors in the center. ("Hot seats" because we were going to be put on the spot with questions, but also because they were the only seats in the direct sunlight, a slight oversight on their part.) The school choir started by welcoming us with the most beautiful song. I was literally moved to tears. Then, a young man brought out a massive painting which he explained the senior class made together to represent them as a whole. Finally, a young man brought out an assignment which he explained (with the help of a translator). Ironically, I have given a similar assignment!<br />
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With the presentations over, it was time for a Q and A session. The students asked insightful questions, many of which we had already been asked at other schools. What are the effects of 9/11? What are your thoughts on the upcoming election? How can I get accepted to an American university? What do Americans think of Muslims? I am always amazed at their curiosity and knowledge of the U.S. and wonder how much my students would be able to share about Indonesia.<br />
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We were then greeted by half a dozen ninth grade students who would tour us to the junior high. The students were competent English speakers and absolutely darling. I could tell they were proud of their school. We were shown a music class and for the first time, it was not music theory or traditional Indonesian music. They were learning guitar! We also observed a modern and a traditional dance class. I couldn't stand it and HAD to participate! I think this thrilled the students and teacher.<br />
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We continued around learning about the school and marveling at the interconnectedness of the levels. Talk about K-12 sequencing! The students looked like American students. It was free-dress Friday and I felt like I was watching my own students. Jen even took a picture of a girl who was wearing the same shirt he daughter owned. The students seemed very motivated to learn and happy. I loved when Mr. Paul told us, "We try to offer classes that will keep the students engaged and want to come to school." I wanted to say, "Yep. I know the feeling."<br />
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Our time at Sekolah Tunas Indonesia was way too brief. I felt disappointed that we were being rushed through at the request of our host. Too many things scheduled. Charles and Mr. Paul were beyond gracious. I felt like I learned so much about and from the school. I plan to keep in contact with Charles and I pleaded with him to come for a visit in the U.S. His vision would be progressive for both of our countries.<br />
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Yuna helped us to the local train station which I knew would be a true glimpse in to local life. No tourists on this train. Everyone eyed us as we patiently waited for our train. We clutched our bags and stuck close to Yuna who said we would be going in the "females only" car. Apparently, some incidents occurred in the past so the government insisted on providing female only cars. Once on board, I was thrilled - it was air-conditioned and the seats were pink!<br />
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Somehow in our quick shuffle, I broke my camera (which I was holding). The lens wouldn't go back in and I cringed at the idea of not being able to take pictures whenever I pleased. Ugh.<br />
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Our stop arrived and we stuck close to Yuna through the crowds which she described as "not bad". We headed for "the mall", but we needed to get through the street vendors first. The streets were literally packed with only small aisles to walk through (enough room for barely one person to fit). The ground was covered in filthy water, poop, and trash. We carefully stepped where we could and at times held hands to ensure safety. The men were finishing their afternoon prayer so the main area was packed with hundreds of men kneeling on newspapers to pray. When they dispersed, we entered "the mall" where we were met by Ms. Eva, who we were told was the queen of shopping and bargaining. In all her shopping wisdom, Eva explained, " Not comfortable for the shopping, but comfortable for the wallet."<br />
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The mall, as Yuna described it was nothing like what we would call a mall. It was 13 stories of packed stores/vendors (and there are at least seven other buildings nearby that replicate what we saw). Everything was sold there - suitcases, jewelry, batik, knock-off purses, baby clothes, bras, etc. Floor to ceiling was covered in goods and everything was negotiable. We determined this was wholesale, where many Indonesians came to purchase and then sell for profit. For the first hour, Jen and I didn't speak or purchase. We were completely overwhelmed by the enormity of what we were seeing. Truth be told, we even felt a little sick. But after the initial shock wore off, and under the guidance of Eva, we shopped until we almost literally dropped.<br />
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At the end, we went to the top floor, which housed a mosque, where Yuna and Eva sat down our many bags (they wouldn't let us carry them) and briefly left us to pray. I do not know if I will ever be accustomed to the devout prayers given five times daily. It's beautiful, but mysterious and I question the male/female roles.<br />
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There was to be no train ride on the way home - too many bodies during rush hour so we had to settle for a VERY long taxi ride home, where most of the time was sitting in stand-still traffic. I felt exhausted and dirty and dreamed about a nice hot shower at the hotel. The exhaustion superseded the fact that we had not even had a lunch today. We had been so busy that we didn't even notice.<br />
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As we said our goodbyes, Eva presented Jen and I with lovely maps of Indonesia on scarves. It was a sweet gesture, especially since I'm sure she didn't have the money. After showering, Jen and I sluggishly left our rooms for dinner. We mindlessly ate and went back to our rooms to call it an early night. I'm feeling the drain, but I am also seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, a very welcomed gift.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-19551827150543457572012-08-01T09:11:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:22:43.726-07:00A SchoolingWe started today on a mission. We have been kept so busy teaching that we have had NO opportunity to observe Indonesian teachers in action. As our IREX liaison explained, we were going to need to use our words. We had planned on talking to Yuna about this at last night's dinner, but she did not show as planned. <br />
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When we arrived at the school, we were met by Ms. Eva who wanted us to teach again (although we had already taught two of her classes and she had filmed each time). We quickly explained that we were responsible for some assignments for IREX and needed to be able to observe in order to work on these. Eva was confused and politely excused herself. We were very afraid we had offended her, but Yuna reassured us and before long, Eva returned eager for us to watch her teach.<br />
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Observing Eva's class proved to be very important. Like Yuna, she was very warm and smiled constantly. She followed our lesson so it was interesting to see what she learned. The lesson started strong with discussion. The students were more comfortable sharing and participating with Eva than they were with us. As the lesson progressed, I felt like I started to watch a student teacher in action. Question strategies were very weak. Only knowledge level inquiry. Several students were disengaged. Two slept, some talked, and some were clearly reading the story on their own. Eva didn't seem to have eyes everywhere as a teacher must and I noticed she focused 90% of her questions and attention on the male students. It was hard to watch and I now have a much better understanding of why we are working with these educators.<br />
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For the next period we were able to observe Ms. Emeng. She too had a wonderful relationship with the students. She had them working on a report of information. The students had completed some information on animals. Several of them had chosen animals I had recently seen - monkeys, elephants, Komodo dragons, so I went around and showed them pictures on my iPad, which they thought was about the greatest thing ever. Ms. Emeng explained that they would be presenting their final information at the next class meeting which was met by moans. It is important that they practice as I've noticed a distinct difference in American students' confidence versus Indonesian students', particularly with public speaking (and not just in English). Ms. Emeng also discussed the difference between a report of information and a narrative. She talked about the importance of grammar, diction, content, and organization as this assignment would be good practice for formal writing on the national examination. This was the first time I heard a teacher talk about an assessment.<br />
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After our observations, we met our driver to travel to SMAN 2, a nearby public high school which was known to be one of the best in the area. We were welcomed by their Assistant Principal of Public Relations who was very excited to have us. SMAN 2 was physically very different from Cendekia. The campus was quite large. The government public school had grades 10-12 with 1100 students and 32 classes. Their school day normally runs from 7:00 am to 3:15 pm, but they end at 12:45 due to Ramadhan although not all students are Muslim (120 Christian/Hindu/Buddhist). Their 80 teachers focus on character building (which seems to be a national emphasis at all schools), and science and math. It was interesting to learn that they also have remedial and enrichment programs.<br />
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We were escorted around campus and observed a 10th grade English class. I immediately noticed that most of the students were not Muslim (so I question some of the statistics we were given). It was a very different atmosphere than Cendekia. Students wore uniforms, but they were short sleeve Hawaiian-type shirts and pants/skirts. The students were not separated by gender in the room and they seemed much more relaxed and social.<br />
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The English teacher was quite engaging utilizing a PowerPoint and video clip. She had the students working in small groups and sharing out. It was refreshing to see. Jen and I borrowed a student's English book (the first we had seen) and were impressed by the layout and focus on familiar standards based around reading, writing, speaking, and listening strategies. The students actively answered questions aloud and it did not feel forced.<br />
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We had an opportunity to talk with the students. They were full of questions. We are discovering that many of the Indonesian students have similar inquiries: What do Americans think of Muslims? What resulted from 9/11 in America? How can I get in to an American university? How can I get scholarships? What are American teens like? And there are usually a few questions about how America is portrayed in films.<br />
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After class, we toured the beautiful school. It, like all the other schools, was spotless. We were pleased to see a greenhouse, a garden, a computer lab, a library, and an amazing health center. The school seemed more like an American school as compared to the Indonesian schools we had visited up to this point.<br />
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The school visit was wonderful. It was nice to see a different, less structured Indonesian school with many religions and races represented. The teachers, administration, and students were incredibly welcoming. Jen and I (and even Yuna!) felt grateful for such an opportunity.<br />
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We traveled back to our hotel and decided to be adventurous. We wanted to go to a huge store, appropriately called "Giant". When we asked the front desk how to walk there, they laughed at us and told us to take a taxi. We did as instructed, but realized the foolishness once we arrived. It was so close! Perhaps they underestimated what we were capable of. Needless-to-say, we shopped at Giant and decided to take a break from Indonesian food and eat at Domino's, where we especially loved the hand washing station.<br />
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After our polluted walk home (perhaps that's why we needed to take a taxi), we rested up a bit and then were picked up by our driver to go to Ms. Emeng's house for breakfast with Yuna and one student. Emeng had a lovely home that was very small but much more modern than the one we went to last night. We were welcomed by Emeng, her husband, and her 11 month old baby boy who made me desperately miss my own boys.<br />
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Emeng's husband, who is also an English teacher, was very kind and seemed quite progressive and western. Emeng had a nanny who seemed to do most of the serving, which seemed a little strange. She had some family present, but just as the previous evening, did not formally introduce us and her relatives seemed to stay clear out of respect. We enjoyed a wonderful meal (minus the chicken feet - ugh). It was an amazing spread of food - enough to feed at least a dozen people. It's clear that they see it as an honor to have us over. We left the suburban development feeling as loved as ever... even if it was with the lingering images of chicken feet.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-75067861067951101562012-07-27T17:26:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:17:31.640-07:00The Surprises Just Keep Coming!We were able to sleep in a little bit today which was a nice treat. Our driver picked us up and dropped us at the corner of a traditional Indonesian market where we met Yuna. It was clear that this was nothing like a grocery store and that only locals frequented this area.<br />
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Yuna brought us in to the building which was about the size of a Costco. It was all open and there were hundreds of vendors selling fresh fruit, vegetables, fish, meat, Indonesian food, etc. Jennifer and I could not believe our eyes. There was SO much to see! The vendors, like so many others, tried to speak to me thinking I was Indonesian. I think they believe I am Jen's guide. It's quite humorous to watch.<br />
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The enormity of the building and the variety of foods was so beautiful and interesting. The vendors were very kind inviting us to take pictures (unlike the grocery store), especially in the meat section which left something to be desired. Yuna was patient with us answering our endless questions. She even purchased some traditional Indonesian snacks for us to have later in the day!<br />
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With groceries in hand, Yuna took us back to her school where we finally observed Yuna's class! We are usually teaching so it was a real treat to actually just watch and assess. Because the school year just began, Yuna is still getting to know her students, but it is obvious she is a very good teacher. She is warm and kind. She has a wonderful sense of humor, which I love. I think the students already feel connected to her. It was interesting to see some similar get-to-know you activities and expectations.<br />
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During Yuna's class, Jen checked her email and found that someone had sent her a message asking if she was okay. There was a 6.6 earthquake in Indonesia. We didn't feel a thing, but we immediately worried about our other colleagues who were spread across the country, some even on other islands. I texted with my husband who confirmed the quake and said there was no warning for a tsunami. Thank God. I suddenly felt a little more homesick.<br />
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After Yuna's class, she escorted us out to wait for the driver. We were to go to Insan Harapan, a local junior high school. We were asking Yuna a few questions about who or what we might see when she screamed, "Oh my God! I forgot to tell you! You are teaching ALL of them!" What? Come again? What did you say? Yuna explained that they were gathering all of the students for us to teach all at once. Jen and I, wide-eyed, gulped as our car pulled up. We had a five to ten minute drive to figure out what the heck we would be doing with hundreds of junior high students.<br />
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Principal Rita Fadilah warmly greeted us. I already felt unnerved knowing they were going to start to gather the students. Ms. Fadilah brought us to the office where we met Assistant Principal Fatnu Siam Soiwatik Rahayu and a student teacher, a former journalist who spoke impeccable English. After brief introductions and "signing in" (a detailed form we had to complete with everything but our social security number!), we were given a special gift. They handed us each a yama (batik pants that are generally used for martial arts or yoga-type activities). They were beautiful! Jen was wearing a dress that would be hard to sit in so we figure it was partially to solve this problem.<br />
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We were taken to a restroom (that wasn't all that sanitary). Jen and I tried to balance on our borrowed slippers - shoes were not allowed in the school - while we changed to a live audience (the assistant principal and two female students who seemed mesmerized). Although a tad bit awkward, Jen and I rocked our new looks. The yama is wonderfully comfortable and we were thrilled to be able to take them with us.<br />
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Back to the office while the staff filled a very crammed area with hundreds of students. At our request, they quickly set up a computer and LCD projector so we could use some of our prepared work. I scrambled to run through activities in my mind that could work with junior high kids who were still learning English. Then, it hit me. Link Crew activities. It was worth a shot.<br />
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The administration had quite the build up to our introduction. We were kept in a "holding area" while they shared all of the information we had filled out on the paperwork when we first arrived. Finally, we made our entrance to roaring applause. The boys sat on one side and the girls on the other. I will admit, I was nervous and sweating (but you always do that in Indonesia). Before long, I had the students yelling out parts of "Old McDonald" while I channeled my Activity Director's energy to mimic his leadership in such an activity. Jen and I continued by presenting on the U.S., California, and our schools. The students were high energy and we occasionally stopped to use the same discipline strategies we would with junior high kids at home. There is no doubt, kids are kids no matter where you are in the world. We finished with student involvement - lots of singing and dancing. Considering the fact that we were thrown to the wolves unexpectedly, we did beautifully.<br />
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The students, staff, and administration seemed thrilled with what we had done and we endured what seemed like a million photos. No joke. Group after group. The students eagerly waited to talk with us about everything from music to education to dance. Some just giggled and said, "Oh God! I can't believe this!" They treated us as though we were superstars. Some acted as though they would pass out from a mere hug or squeeze on the shoulder. They wanted our email, Facebook, twitter. It was tween insanity.<br />
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We were given a tour of their beautiful school. It was refreshing to see colorful, decorated rooms. This campus looked much more like it belonged to the students. When it was time to go, the administration presented us with lovely certificates of appreciation. Jen and I, drenched in sweat and wearing our yama and slippers, said goodbye to one of the kindest, most appreciative group of educators I have ever met. Our very own groupies (no joke) even followed us all the way out waving and giggling as we drove away.<br />
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Back in the hotel, we took our first breath. We cleaned up and had a wonderful lunch in our mall. (Yes, we consider it "our" mall now.) We even spent the extra dollar to order two desserts that had chocolate and cheese - strange, but incredibly popular here. It's not as bad as it sounds. We then headed back to our Starbucks. It's the only way we can stay awake for the afternoon activities. The coffee and work time is great and we love the Ramadan special!<br />
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With a little more rest, we were picked up by the school van (half an hour late - apparently the driver forgot to pick us up). The van also contained eight lucky female students who were invited to join our breakfast at their teacher's home. Jen and I were very curious to see an actual Indonesian home. It was a part of the culture we had not yet seen.<br />
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Ms. Eva eagerly welcomed us to her home. We immediately sat in her entrance area in a circle on a carpet. Jen and I spoke with the students while Eva busily prepared food and brought it out to a nearby table. She was very concerned that we might think some of the food was strange and we had to reassure her that we liked to try new things. Eating on the floor was a new experience. We talked and ate. It was interesting to watch them eat with their hands so expertly and excuse themselves quietly to another room so that they could pray. I love that I have never felt uncomfortable with their religious beliefs, that they have not forced uncomfortable situations. Everyone is respectful and lovely.<br />
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I didn't see much of Eva's home and I wasn't comfortable asking for a tour. I met her husband, daughter, son, and nephew who stayed in another room watching TV although we asked them to join us. I saw her kitchen which was bare, a little dirty, and contained a very small refrigerator. Before long, it was time for goodbyes. It was such a unique opportunity and it was clear that she had honored us with special food and drink. I'm sure she spent more on the meal than she could afford. Their hospitality knows no bounds.<br />
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Jen and I were exhausted. We went for our nightly bingtang to unwind and found ourselves retiring not long after. Our brains were fried after such a long day. I think we have learned we have to constantly prepare ourselves mentally for the unexpected. The show must go on...<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-38020206719449542012012-07-25T15:41:00.001-07:002012-09-15T19:05:25.608-07:00Are We Moviestars?Last night was one of the most restful sleeps I've had since arriving in Jakarta/Tangerang. Even the calls to mosque didn't completely wake me this morning. I think exhaustion finally won.<br />
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Jen and I again met for breakfast at 6:00 am. Breakfast was far more enjoyable this morning as compared to yesterday since my stomach seems to be settled for the time being. Thanks heavens. Well rested and with full stomachs, we were ready to tackle a day of teaching.<br />
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As instructed, we waited in the lobby for our driver who we were told yesterday would be on time today. Almost thirty minutes later, we started to worry. After all, we were supposed to be teaching a class promptly at 7:00! I had the hotel call Yuna on her cell phone. Yuna apologized profusely on the phone explaining that the driver had overslept and someone was coming to get us immediately. Minutes later, a new driver arrived to take us through the polluted air and crowded streets to our school. The air was so thick with pollution today that I coughed and gasped for air. Jen and I covered our mouths and noses to help our breathing and eagerly anticipated our escape from the outside.<br />
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Yuna was waiting in front of the school for us and rushed us to our first English class (12th graders). Class was well in to session so Jen and I assumed we may not be teaching. Out of breath and out of sorts, we entered the room and the teacher immediately handed the class to us. So much for a breather.<br />
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Without missing a beat, Jen and I started our lesson on "The Gift of the Magi", which was being carefully filmed... several times. The students did beautifully keeping up with us. They were interested and engaged during our activities, although I had to pry some of them to participate. True to my teaching at home, I just started calling on students - there are no free passes in my room. Jen and I were a flawless team. Again, we had little to no practice, but we appeared to have worked together for a very long time. (Several of the Indonesian teachers commented on this.) We have similar teaching styles and can naturally communicate with even a look. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful teaching partner!<br />
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After teaching two periods of Ms. Eva's 12th grade English, she repeatedly thanked us and told us how much she learned. We immediately had two periods of 11th grade students to teach. Ms. Emeng introduced us and the students, as always, were fabulous. They were full of interesting comments and questions like the groups yesterday. They wanted to know how American teens live, what boy/girl relationships are like, what "Sin City" was about, what the "American Dream" was, the definition of "American culture", and what the CIA, FBI, and Pentagon entail.<br />
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Jennifer and I did our best to keep up. I think the students think we are quite entertaining as we are pretty outgoing compared to their own teachers. We make jokes, laugh (a lot), and have taken to simultaneously breaking in to a funny dance every time their bell, which isn't a bell at all but funny music, starts to play. It's difficult to tell how intimidated they are. It's obvious they want to talk to us, ask many questions, and take pictures, but they seem to restrain themselves most of the time. The teachers were thrilled with our teaching and took endless pictures and video. We are definitely the stars of this Islamic show.<br />
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During a short break Jennifer opted to go to the restroom. I made a pledge to hold it unless absolutely necessary. I temporarily had the classroom all to myself so I was able to sneak a drink of water and snack. I still haven't figured out how they are able to work all day without food or water. When Jennifer returned, she explained she had to use a standing toilet. Ugh. Glad I held it.<br />
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Although we teach more classes each day at home, we both felt completely exhausted. Perhaps this is because we are sleep-deprived or because we are constantly "on" in the classroom or because it's so hot. Who knows? It's probably a mixture. We were so happy to be on our way back to the hotel where we quickly dropped off our things and then found a fabulous lunch spot where I dined on tempura Ramon. Yum!<br />
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We then made our way to Starbucks and worked on our blogs for several hours. The coffee tasted heavenly. We giggled as we sat and reflected on our strange, but thrilling experiences. It felt like a Starbucks grading day that I often have with friends at home.<br />
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Home. I'm starting to really feel the pangs of missing everything - my children, my husband, my family, my friends, my bed, familiar food, brushing my teeth with tap water. A lot of people have contacted me the last two days and it was a reminder that my other world is waiting for my return. It suddenly made me long for the familiar.<br />
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We decided to go back to the hotel to rest a bit before our pickup. Another change of plans (we are getting used to a lot of these too). We were going to head back to the school to observe a student activity and have break-fast (a break from the fast) with some staff members. <br />
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Upon arrival, we noticed that the students were no longer in uniform. It didn't dawn on me that we would get to observe them in a more comfortable state. The male students were participating in a group cooking contest. They purchased their own ingredients and made a dish (most included chocolate or some type of sugar). The girls watched and cheered them on, occasionally telling them all of the things they were doing incorrectly. We were interviewed on camera by a student on our thoughts of the contest. Who knows where it will end up! It was SO much fun to see them smiling and laughing in a more relaxed setting.<br />
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Yuna gave us a more thorough tour of the campus showing us the various housing, the student work area, the medical center, the cafeteria, and the mosque. They certainly seem to have their own little world within the gates of this beautiful campus. <br />
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We learned quite a bit more information as well. While the school only has 355 students, 3,000 students applied last year and only 120 students were selected to attend. This school, as well as one other, is intended for poor students who show tremendous academic potential. The government provides scholarships to attend. These students are essentially the best of the best from the underprivileged. They must be quite dedicated - school begins with prayer at 4:00 am and continues until 3:00 pm. They also go to school most of the year with very few breaks. (Our students have NOTHING to complain about!) The male and female students are usually pretty segregated, except in class, during extracurricular activities, and at "Devil's Corner," the one corner where the male and female streets/walkways briefly intersect. It would be unimaginable to American students.<br />
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Jen and I were then escorted in to a dorm office where we met several teachers who also served as residents in a way. They lived on campus and were responsible for approximately 60 students. I couldn't believe their commitment - wake at 3:00 am and either work or chaperone until almost 11:00 pm. I can't figure out the motivation as they do not receive any extra pay! Perhaps the housing is the draw? We met children of teachers who were just beautiful.<br />
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We were invited to sit on the floor as students and teachers brought in endless food for break-fast. Jen and I knew this was a very special honor. The teachers had prepared a very special feast and invited us to join them. There was a call from outside which indicated that it was officially sunset and that we could eat. We drank our coconut milk and ate rice, chicken, dates, steamed buns with bean paste inside, etc. It was quite delicious. I observed as the teachers skillfully ate with their hands using the rice as a scoop to sop up other food. I expected all of them to gorge after waiting to eat all day, but they politely ate a healthy helping and then many of them excused themselves so as to go pray.<br />
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Yuna and another teacher then took us to the dorms to show us how the students lived. I must admit, it was hard for me to see. I know this is probably an honor and special living for some, but I couldn't imagine my own children living here. The rooms were similar to a college dorm - four to a room with bunk beds, desks, dressers, and a shared bathroom. However, they were hot, stuffy, seemingly dirty, and it was against the rules to hang anything on the walls, so the rooms appear very bare and lonely. I kept thinking of the young lady I saw on a phone (it was her allotted time to call home) who was crying. It seems this school, while an amazing opportunity, is also an island.<br />
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It had been a long day so we made our way back to the hotel. We braved the grocery store again to pick up some spices and treats and then stopped by a restaurant for bingtang to go. It was back to our rooms where we decompressed and laughed until our bellies ached and we cried. It would be impossible to survive this adventure without these moments. Jen and I constantly marvel that we are in the middle of Indonesia on our own. We really must be stars.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-25918196387473000692012-07-24T07:55:00.001-07:002012-09-15T18:28:59.563-07:00Amy in Surreal-landToday started with a very, very early morning. Somewhere between 3:30 and 4:00 in the morning, I head what sounded like fireworks, bells, and yelling. We later learned that it was the calling to mosque. (At least I didn't have someone pounding on the bed like Jennifer's neighbor.) Needless-to-say, there was no going back to bed. In addition, my stomach was not feeling right. Uh oh. Wouldn't it be ironic if it was the Wendy's from lunch yesterday?<br />
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Jen and I were ready to go at 6:00 and left for our free hotel breakfast. It was an amazing spread of Indonesian food, some American food, pastries, breads, fruit, porridge, juices, coffee, tea. We continue to be amazed that we are paying a mere $50.00 a night for our room and we receive free breakfast and eight free movie tickets. <br />
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We were told we would be picked up in our lobby at 6:30 am to be taken to our school, MAN Insan Cendekia. Our driver arrived twenty minutes late. (We are getting accustomed to "Indonesian time".) It was probably for the best because I was still having stomach issues. Nothing a little Tums and Pepto Bismal couldn't take care of!<br />
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Once our driver arrived, we were on the road to school. We noted the polluted air and observed people wearing surgeon's masks. It's difficult to understand how people can breathe this air all the time. Before long, we arrived at our school and were greeted by a very enthusiastic Yuna who eagerly introduced us to anyone within a mile radius.<br />
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MAN Insan Cendekia is a boarding school and students apply from all over the country. I've determined that because of its competitive nature, it obtains some of the best and brightest. The campus is quite large, especially considering there are only 355 students. It appeared to be much nicer physically than the other schools I've visited.<br />
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We were introduced to Yuna's principal, whom she explained was nervous to speak English to us so he opted to have Yuna translate. He was clearly excited we were there and asked our permission to videotape us teaching, which we welcomed. After pictures and thanks, we headed to the teacher work room which was fascinating. Every teacher in the school had his/her own cubicle area in which to plan, grade, and relax. It was a fun concept that I think I would enjoy. Easy collaboration and family-oriented. (It might be hard to do with all 100 staff members at my school!)<br />
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Next, we headed to Yuna's first class, 10th grade English. Yuna explained at the entrance of the building that we needed to remove our shoes. (We never fully understood why, but we think some people may live in the building and they are trying to avoid dirty hallways?) Laughing, Jen and I (in our long skirts that now dragged on the ground) removed our shoes and pondered what it will be like to teach without shoes on. We would know very shortly.<br />
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We waited outside Yuna's classroom door as she prepared her students. The room seemed to buzz with anticipation. We entered to many, many smiling faces. Jen and I hadn't "practiced" anything so it was going to be interesting to see how we would suddenly team teach.<br />
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The students were polite and enthusiastic as Jen and I introduced ourselves and ran through several activities with them while teaching them about the United States and California. Participation took prompting, but it didn't take much. We encouraged them to ask questions and were surprised by the complexity of some of their questions, such as: What are the differences between democrats and republicans? What is the difference between British English and American English? Is there really a mafia in the U.S.? How do students from Indonesia get scholarships to American universities? How have things changed in the U.S. since 9/11? What do Americans think of Muslims?<br />
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After 60 minutes, we gave the students American flag pencils and it was like we had handed them pieces of gold. Every student grinned from ear to ear while saying, "Thank you, ma'm." We took pictures and they were beside themselves. Some asked to take more photos.<br />
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Yuna quickly escorted us out - we had to get to our next class. (Teachers move, not the students in 10th grade.) We got to put our shoes back on and travel to another classroom. On our way there, another teacher stared and commented that I looked "like a colleague's dead wife." I wasn't sure how to respond, but it gave us a good laugh later on. Yuna's students were so happy as we entered. We had more time this period (90 minutes) which was good because we ran out of time during the first class.<br />
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This group of students was similar to the first: enthusiastic, cute, smart, and lots of fun. Jen and I noted how much they were like our own students. It felt good to get back in to the saddle of teaching. We even had time to teach some songs, including "This Land is Your Land", "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes", and the "Chicken Dance" (which many of them knew!). Again, we finished by giving the students gifts - candy wrapped in American flag packaging, which they would have to save until later due to Ramadan. Many of the students whispered about keeping the packaging once they ate the candy. Too cute for words. During our pictures, I put my arm around a young lady. She screamed, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" She leaned in to me; she was that excited about being near me. They all were. Most of the students came up and took my hand to place to their cheeks as a sign of respect and thanks.<br />
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After class we headed back to the teacher work room. The teachers were as eager to meet us as the students and it seemed they all wanted a piece of us. Many asked that we come and teach in their classes. One teacher in particular was trying to corner the market and begged that we teach four of her classes. We bargained to two. To our surprise, she asked us to teach a piece of literature, "The Chapel". We agreed thinking there would be plenty we could teach with a short story, although neither of us were familiar with the piece.<br />
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Jen and I took our copies over to our work area and started reading. Jen was on the computer when I looked up with horror in my eyes and grabbed her leg. "Oh my God," I said breathlessly. The teacher had asked us to teach a story which included two rapes, a teen pregnancy, a death, all with a touch of racism. This was to be our first lesson with Muslim students we had never met. Jen and I stared at each other with mouths gaping. What do we do??? We explored our options: Go ahead. Talk to Yuna. Find another story. Run. <br />
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Cultural differences. Cultural differences. Cultural differences. I had to keep telling myself this and reminded Jen as she started to panic. About that time we were approached by the teacher. I politely told her that we did not feel comfortable with this particular story but we would be happy to teach something like figurative language, grammar, or another story. Confused, she asked why we were not comfortable. Awkwardly, we explained. She was very kind and felt bad as though she had offended us. We quickly made several suggestions and opted to print off "The Gift of the Magi". So, we had transitioned from teaching rape, death, and racism to teaching Christianity... to Muslims. <br />
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At this point, we wanted to go, but not before being stopped by two other teachers. One asked that we prepare to teach about the American education system. Another asked that we prepare to teach a report of information on an animal. Flabbergasted, we went to find our car. Reality hit. No more air-conditioned car. A junky 10 person van was our carriage home. All we could do was laugh.<br />
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Relieved to be in our hotel, we rested and then went to find a late lunch. As I swallowed my chicken in peanut sauce (one of my favorites), I started to feel human again. We treated ourselves to Chewy Juniors (strange eclairs). Back in the room, I quickly faded and took a life-saving nap. When I woke, Jen and I had to get started on our homework. After all, we had a number of lessons to prepare! <br />
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After a couple of hours worth of work, we decided it was time to enjoy ourselves. We took our complimentary movie passes and made our way to the theater to see Batman, a traditional Indonesian film. (ha ha) We opted not to eat dinner and ordered popcorn and fries (with hot sauce) at the theater (although the fish balls were tempting). When we made it to our assigned seats (yes, assigned seating!), we marveled at the fancy chairs and mile of legroom. It was when we watched popcorn and drinks personally delivered on a tray to movie-goers that we confirmed Indonesian film watching was far superior to our own.<br />
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The film was fantastic and I temporarily felt like we were in the U.S., but we were exhausted. It was time to walk the ten feet to our hotel (after passing the Indonesian teens breakdancing) and climb in to bed. Tomorrow was to be filled with more unknown adventures and surprises. Who knows? I could be chasing a white rabbit.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-47114773013151436792012-07-24T07:46:00.001-07:002012-09-15T18:21:12.738-07:00A Change... and not just in locationAfter speaking with Yuna, our host teacher in Tangerang, we were under the impression that we would have quite a relaxing morning as she wouldn't be here to pick us up until almost noon. Surprisingly, as Jennifer and I sat at breakfast, we discovered that all of the host teachers had arrived significantly early. (Yuna was three hours early!) It was exciting to finally meet Yuna and she was very polite about waiting while we went upstairs to pack.<br />
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Once back down, we were able to meet Yuna's husband who accompanied her and our driver for the day. They agreed to take us to Barack Obama's elementary school, which was particularly special as today is his birthday! After a quick drive to another part of Jakarta, we were able to stroll through his school, which is unchanged since his attendance and see a very special statue of President Obama as a child. We really enjoyed this opportunity.<br />
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It was finally time to make our way to Tangerang. It was a lengthy drive, but the air-conditioned car ensured a pleasant trip. There was no traffic which was unheard of and could only be attributed to the start of Ramadan. I was grateful.<br />
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Yuna and her husband escorted us in to our hotel, Hotel Santika. It was lovely. Yuna also pointed out our close proximity to a hospital and then walked us out the back of our hotel to show us we were literally feet away from a beautiful mall, which had a full grocery store, a massive book store, countless restaurants (including a few American chains), a huge gym, a multiplex theater, and many shops. It seems we have everything at our fingertips!<br />
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Our hosts left us to explore and get acclimated to our new home. Jennifer and I jumped (literally) with glee over our luck knowing that many of our colleagues would have much more difficult accommodations. We decided to explore the book store as we wanted to get some school supplies for our lessons. The book store was too overwhelming. It was packed with every imaginable supply. We browsed the books purchasing some to help us communicate and found some other great buys.<br />
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Sadly, looking around at familiar food establishments made me crave a taste of home all the more. Jennifer was kind enough to humor me and we dined at Wendy's! I had a "burger", french fries, and a frosty. The burger was mediocre at best, but the fries and frosty were more than I could have ever dreamed!<br />
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Both of us wanted desperately to browse the grocery store. We were in awe of the fruit, fresh fish (literally swimming in tanks), endless spices, and bizarre foods packaged in every aisle. We were clicking away taking pictures when we were approached by a security guard who told us we were not allowed to take photos. We apologized profusely not knowing if we were in danger of being arrested. I blame Jennifer for drawing attention when she screamed at the top of her lungs when she passed an open bin that was filled with live eels! Fortunately, we escaped the grocery store unscathed.<br />
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We made our way back to our hotel to check in. Our rooms are very nice - clean and well air-conditioned. It is always a relief. I even have a view of the local water park. I saw advertising for a two hour massage for $33 so Jennifer and I quickly made a reservation. Within half an hour, the ladies were at our doors. The massages were done in room, which made us a little nervous, but the petite Indonesian ladies seemed anything but intimidating. The massage, which included a foot and body scrub and facial, was one of the strangest massages I have ever had, but it didn't stop me from falling asleep during the first half!<br />
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Jennifer and I cleaned up and went back to our mall to find a place to eat. After my American meal at lunch, I was ready to jump back in to the Indonesian food pool. We ate and laughed at our ridiculous fortune. I am so grateful to be traveling with someone like Jennifer. I'm not sure I would survive otherwise. <br />
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After dinner we purchased "cotton buns" (very, very soft bread with sugar and/or chocolate - to die for!!!) and then stopped by a restaurant to purchase some bingtang to go. We ate and drank in our room enjoying each other's company. We needed to get some rest as we had a very early morning ahead of us. I can't wait to see the surprises tomorrow brings!<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-33067878148519858692012-07-24T07:32:00.001-07:002012-09-15T18:11:42.163-07:00A Whole Lot of Little IndonesiaToday was to be a busy day beginning with the Indonesian Miniature Park. I envisioned something along the lines of Legoland where I would feel like Godzilla towering over tiny replicas of Indonesian islands and landmarks. To my surprise, the Miniature Park was anything but miniature. It was quite reminiscent of Disneyland. Each area represented a part of Indonesia. Life size homes and statues showed the style of living and culture of the areas. <br />
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After a quick drive around, we took a sky cab (like the old Disneyland buckets) to get an aerial view. It was overwhelming and I determined you could spend a week there and never get through everything. Lilia, our guide, said that Miniature Park is usually packed, but it was essentially empty due to Ramadan. <br />
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We walked from area to area in very hot, humid weather looking at the buildings and even ran in to a D version of Tigger and Pooh which were more scary than entertaining. I watched as Lilia's six year old daughter looked as though she was fading and realized that she was exhausted from fasting (She was in "training"). Some of us decided to duck out for a bit and sneak an ice cream so she didn't have to watch. Although I felt guilty, that ice cream tasted like a slice of heaven.<br />
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After seeing countless areas, we opted to stop at the Komodo dragon exhibit. We paid the dollar entrance fee, which ended up being the best dollar spent EVER. We entered to see interesting turtles and lizards and then slowly made our way to the back where there was a massive Komodo dragon. The trainer/feeder(?) said we could come down and touch it. I screamed and ran (yes, literally ran) down to the habitat. Before long, I found myself petting "Annie's" tail, putting my head on her skin, and taking pictures that were far too dangerous. Perhaps he thought Americans could be expendable. I don't know how we were allowed to do what we did, but it was an opportunity of a lifetime. Plus, I look REALLY cool to my kids!<br />
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On our way out, we stopped at a mosque. We carefully removed our shoes and entered a completely foreign world to me. Men were to the right on the floor praying, some aloud. There was a separate section for women to pray. I felt as though we were intruding a very private affair, but Lilia reassured me that as long as we follow the rules, we are more than welcome. Even the head of the mosque wanted a picture with all of us, so I think she is probably correct.<br />
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We needed to get back to the hotel quickly to eat, change, and prepare for a workshop on the Indonesian Education system. Once again, Lilia did a beautiful job condensing decades of information in to little time. After a short break, we had a panel discussion with a local professor, the head of the Ministry of Education and Culture, a local teacher and principal. The discussion proved to be very interesting. Indonesia is clearly looking to improve its education system, but they still have a long way to go. At the same time, I find it fascinating that both Indonesia and the U.S. face many of the same difficulties. There is no doubt that the conversation benefited all parties present.<br />
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The local principal at the panel discussion, Charles Albert, was extremely well spoken and seemed to be quite forth-thinking. As soon as my colleague Jennifer and I heard that he was from Tangerang (where we are headed tomorrow for our teaching assignment), we knew we needed to speak with him. He was very gracious and invited us to visit his school. He would arrange transportation. He even joked that he may never take us home!<br />
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During our break many of us decided we needed to blow off some steam. After an "interesting" journey to find refreshments (where I was even mistaken as a local!), we adjourned to a room to talk and laugh. It was clear we all needed it. We quickly bonded.<br />
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I was very excited about our Cultural Dinner. Many educators from the area as well as groups of students would be attending. Many of the students from SMPN 49 (Lilia's school) were present and immediately recognized me as the crazy lady who challenged a student to his thumb game. We had a rematch and I continued to lose.<br />
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After dinner, we watch as the students performed Angklung, a VERY fast, synchronized dance performed by young ladies to drums. There was also a a traditional Balinese dance by a beautiful young lady from a local school. The night concluded with music played on bamboo instruments from a large group of students. We could not leave until we joined the Indonesian teachers and students in dance. What a fun evening!<br />
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Once the performances were complete, we had some time to give gifts of thanks to the students and educators. They were all so incredibly grateful. The students giggled in delight. My favorite image was seeing the principal and English teacher walking around and dancing with their Pleasant Valley High School lanyards around their necks. Fantastic.<br />
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We had some final business to take care of at the end of the night since we were to depart in the morning for our various schools. It's strange, but I felt some sadness to leave the group. We wouldn't be together again for a week and most of us had no clue what we were walking in to. I had a brief telephone discussion with Yuna, our host teacher about tomorrow's pickup and then it was time for hugs and goodbyes to the group. Hopefully we will have internet access to communicate. Time will tell.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-28641443891132870582012-07-20T17:39:00.001-07:002012-09-15T17:56:36.685-07:00A Monkey with a Doll Face? And more education...We started today all together with a nice breakfast in our hotel. While the food was good, I'm starting to feel the need for "home" food. I may have to cave and dine at McDonald's, KFC, A & W, or Burger King, all popular food stops here in Indonesia. (These places even deliver!)<br />
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I was so relieved to be able to log on to the WiFi this morning and even got to FaceTime with my kids! I'm missing them terribly and I really needed to see their faces and talk to them. They seemed so happy, which warmed my heart. I also knew my husband would be with them in a matter of hours and they were very excited about seeing their Daddy. I'm still crazy for any Indonesian baby I see and I completely blame it on the fact that I miss my own children so badly.<br />
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As I finished my goodbyes, it was time to load on to our bus and make our way to SMPN 49, Lilia's school. School 49 has approximately 700 students, 50 teachers, and 22 administrators! It has grades 7-9 and it is a public school, but students must complete a rigorous application process and interview in hopes to be selected. The school day begins at 6:30 am and ends at 4:00 pm. Students take 10 classes and have an average of two hours of homework each night.<br />
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We were greeted by all smiles and handshakes. We were then escorted in to a room with many Indonesian teachers where we listened to our IREX representative and the school's principal welcome us. It was a lovely welcoming and it was clear that our presence was exciting to their staff.<br />
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We broke in to subject area groups and were escorted to classrooms full of students. The Indonesian children sat with anticipation in their uniforms and smiled politely at us. It wasn't long before we were put on the spot to introduce ourselves and teach for an hour. I (with my two English colleagues) taught the children about the United States, our home towns, and schools. <br />
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As we (and the children) became more comfortable, it became increasingly more fun. We shared games (the thumb game and rock, paper, scissors) and under our request, the children sang and performed for us. The children were eager with questions and we marveled at how well they spoke and how much prior knowledge they had about the U.S. They were normal kids, VERY similar to our own students. They have the same hobbies, complaints, interests. Talking to them became familiar territory. I was sad to leave the classroom. I loved interacting with the students, but we had a quick workshop on global education. During our workshop, both the Indonesian and American teachers identified similar goals. Just like the students, we shared many similarities.<br />
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We then broke out in to large groups to discuss the role of global education in our classroom. Our group was made up of teachers of English and Indonesian. Lilia served as our translator as some teachers did not have fluent English, which unfortunately, slowed our discussion down a bit. We started (at the Indonesian teachers' request) by teaching each other a song. We taught "This Land is My Land". Our exchanges were SO much fun! I can't wait to teach my students their song.<br />
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I was pleasantly surprised during our introductions that the Indonesian teachers got in to the teaching profession for all of the same reasons Americans do - a great teacher, family had teachers, love for the subject, love for interacting with students, etc. Because we were such a large group and translating was lengthy, we did not get to complete our entire discussion on global education but we did discuss was similar conclusions about what global ed looks like and its importance.<br />
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It was time to reconvene as a large group and say our goodbyes. It was an enlightening and lovely visit. I was surprised at their outpour of kindness, their openness and curiosity (even asking us questions like, "How old are you?"), and their diversity. There are Muslim, Hindu, Catholic, and Christian students and teachers. Although religion is studied and practiced, there is choice, which I wasn't expecting. The staff walked us out to the bus (after many, many pictures) and waved as we exited, but not before sending us with water and snacks. True hospitality.<br />
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Next we needed lunch and some down time. Lilia took us to a small shopping area to a restaurant called bumbu desa, where we dined on a variety of amazing food and drink. Lilia proudly told us she had ordered everything on the menu, so there was no shortage of food! The fish was especially excellent.<br />
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We braved the Jakarta traffic and slowly made our way to the AMINEF/Fulbright office where we were treated with gifts and information about the Indonesian education system and opportunities for both Indonesian and American teachers. It was all very interesting, especially to look around RELO (regional English Language Office) which provides services to Indonesians seeking education in the U.S.<br />
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Back in the bus, we noted the thousands of motorbikes, but the highlight of our transfer was a freaky sight - a monkey who was wearing the face of a baby doll on a leash. We screamed in horror (and morbid curiosity) trying to capture the bizarre moment as we drove by. Strange doesn't begin to describe it.<br />
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The group decided we wanted to shop during our break so the bus dropped us at an enormous Jakarta mall. I couldn't believe the number of shops and levels of the mall. Lilia whisked us to stores to find traditional Batik clothing. It was quickly clear that I am dangerous shopping in any country! I loved the colorful, sparkly tunics and tried on a dozen before settling on my choices. Lilia is a terrible influence encouraging me to continue to buy more!<br />
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With our purchases in tow (and a VERY special treat - a Starbucks! Yum!), we went back to the hotel for dinner (and live country music - too funny) and then a special session on Indonesian history and culture. Lilia was very thorough teaching us about ALL of Indonesia's history, both pre and post colonization. I was particularly interested in hearing her perspective on the 1965-66 massacre and transfer of power which I have studied. Lilia confirmed everything I had researched and answered several of my questions.<br />
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It was getting late and people were starting to fade at the end of our session, so we called it a night. Our day was extremely busy, but one filled with many enlightening moments.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-71602097580368446262012-07-20T17:37:00.001-07:002012-07-20T17:37:25.759-07:00Bye Bye BaliIt was hard to wake up this morning. I knew it was time to say goodbye to my beloved Bali, but I also knew it was time to say goodbye to my best friend and husband for the next two weeks. In addition, the many fears of the unknown in Jakarta unnerved me. We quickly shifted clothing between our suitcases and gathered our mementos. By the time we had packed and showered there was no time for breakfast. With one last look around our royal villa, we said goodbye to Ubud.<br /><br />We hired Ade (our previous driver) for half the day to take me to the airport and then to help my husband explore as much as he could until his plane left six hours later. Ade, as always, was delightful and friendly. Our drive to the airport was quite lengthy due to traffic and I could feel my nerves increase as we grew closer. Ade dropped us off and my husband walked me in as far as he could. With a very tearful goodbye, it was my turn to continue the Indonesian adventure on my own.<br /><br />I went through two security scans, paid my departure fee, and made my way to the gate. The Denpasar airport was hot and stuffy, but I found a seat and reflected a bit on my travels thus far...<br /><br />Highlights of Bali:<br />* Petting and riding the elephants<br />* Uluwatu and the sunset dance<br />* Talking with Ketut Liyer<br />* Biking through the rice fields<br />* Relaxing on the beach<br />* Lunch at Nyoman's home<br />* The visit to SD Saraswati 5 Denpasar school<br />* Exploring the Indian Ocean at low tide<br />* Roaming the streets of Sanur, Kuta, and Ubud<br />* The food (ALL of it)<br />* The people, the people, the people<br /><br />Funny observations:<br />* Watching my husband be offered Viagra on the street<br />* A monkey stealing a woman's shoe<br />* Throwing bananas AT the monkeys<br />* Spotting 4-5 people on ONE scooter<br />* Rice farmers texting while working in the rice fields<br />* Endless statues with enormous male genitalia <br />* Balinese people singing American songs<br />* Australians (in general - see picture)<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/20/3259.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/20/s_3259.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Bali is truly a magical place. I have no doubt we will return. There is still so much more to do and see. Who knows, maybe we will retire there.<br /><br />As I boarded my plane to Jakarta, I wondered how in the world I would ever find my TGC (Teachers for Global Classrooms) group. I knew Jakarta had a massive airport so this would be interesting. To my utter surprise, as I was walking down the aisle to my seat, I spotted a tall Caucasian man (there were very few on this flight); it was Daniel, one of my TGC colleagues and another native Californian! I felt immediate relief that we would at least have each other.<br /><br />Once seated I was soon joined by two other young women, Han (a woman from Vietnam) and Elina (a woman from Holland). I don't know who struck up the conversation first, but the three of us gabbed consistently for the duration of the hour and forty-five minute flight. So what could a Vietnamese woman, a Dutch woman, and an American woman have in common? Han had traveled to Bali and Jakarta alone to explore and visit a friend for a week. Elina was just finishing an Asian tour ON HER OWN for four and a half months. The three of us shared our stories and decided that fate had brought us together - three brave, independent women. I've never had a more interesting flight and while Han and Elina did not know, they gave me the confidence and strength I needed upon entering my teaching experience in Jakarta. I will NEVER forget these ladies.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/20/3260.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/20/s_3260.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Daniel and I collected our bags and began our search for the international arrivals terminal. After a bus ride and about an hour and a half, Daniel and I had already become quite comfortable with each other. Daniel had spent quite a bit of time in Indonesia as well, so we were not fighting fatigue. As the remainder of the group (9 teachers and our IREX leader Susanna) arrived, it all began to feel real. They were completely exhausted and I felt guilty for my perky smile. We were loaded on to a wonderful air-conditioned bus and endured a long drive in bumper-to-bumper traffic to our hotel.<br /><br />The Park Hotel is lovely. We all have our own rooms which is nice. It's clean and well air-conditioned and best of all, has the "shower of power" as I like to call it. There's a pool, a spa, a bar, and a restaurant. My only complaint is that it is not in the best location. There isn't much to do within walking distance, but it seems we will be pretty busy anyway. Even the view (despite the air pollution) isn't too bad. So, we got settled in and rested.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/20/3261.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/20/s_3261.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />At dinner we became reacquainted and talked with Lilia, our wonderful Indonesian host. I LOVE Lilia; she is so cute and kind and helpful. Her English is excellent and I feel as though I could go to her for anything. The nine newly arrived teachers were losing a fighting battle to stay awake so they called it an early evening. I tried in vain to connect to the WiFi with no luck, which is why my postings may be delayed. Tomorrow is a very busy day, but I'm looking forward to getting in to the schools and doing what I love, teach.<br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-80066346214332301572012-07-19T17:35:00.001-07:002012-09-15T17:38:48.712-07:00A Whirlwind DayIt was another early morning for us, but a day we've been waiting for all vacation. We planned very little before coming to Bali, but this was one treat that was on the books. The rainy weather was not going to dampen a good time!<br />
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We were greeted by Nyoman, the owner of the Jegeg Bali Cycling Tour. Nyoman received raving reviews online for providing a truly unique Bali experience. He was a small man with a happy face and respectable English (probably because he lived in the U.S. for three years). We climbed in to his van, which surprisingly held half of the Australian continent (okay, maybe eight Aussies). They were all lovely and greeted us warmly.<br />
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The driver headed over some bumpy terrane as Nyoman started our Balinese education. We learned about everything from the Hindu religion to the caste system to how children are named. My head started to expand under the pressure of so much information.<br />
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We were first driven to the Kopi luwak coffee plantation where we looked at plant life, learned about the coffee making process, and tried 10 coffees/teas, including the infamous "poop" coffee. The luwak poop coffee is known around the world because the civet eats the coffee beans, digests, and poops out the beans. They are then harvested, opened, cleaned, and processed. It is tedious work (hence, the skyrocket price). So, we settled for sharing one small cup. Yes, we drank poop coffee. And yes, it was good!<br />
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Next, we headed to breakfast. We drove all the way up a mountain to see Batur, a volcano. Batur last erupted in 1973 and the evidence is still visible. Scorched black land falls down the volcano missing one remote area which remains green like an island within an island. The fog burned off enough for us to appreciate the mystic beauty while enjoying a delicious breakfast.</div>
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It was time to work off our meal. We drove to a drop-off spot, saddled up on our bikes, and began an adventure! We rode through gorgeous rice fields and small villages. The rain pelted down on us for the first half of our ride, but it didn't faze us. We weren't cold and found the fun in splashing childishly about. Before long, the sun came out and dried our clothes. We waved and said hello to small children and even stopped to learn about the Hindu cremation ceremony.<br />
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As our ride came to a close, we were muddy and happy and deserved a hard-earned lunch. With that, we were off to Nyoman's home. Upon entry, we were greeted by Nyoman's entire family and they had prepared a remarkable spread of food. It was heaven! Nyoman had a three month old baby which I fell in love with and held for most of our visit. What a delightful day with a lovely family.<br />
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Although dirty, we knew we wanted to do a little more shopping so we headed for Ubud to shop (and have a drink). There were amazing finds; too many in fact. We were going to need to find another bag to pack our treasures.<br />
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After a loooong journey back to our hotel (our taxi driver got lost), we took a quick swim in our infinity pool and had a wonderful dinner. The dessert stole the show - black rice pudding, a warm slice of heaven! It was a perfect way to end our time in Ubud and Bali. Tomorrow it is time to pack up and prepare for the next part of my journey!<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadamyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-41651034905541734122012-07-18T16:15:00.001-07:002012-07-18T16:15:43.259-07:00A True EducationIt was an odd feeling waking this morning knowing that it was time to leave Sanur. It was comfortable and we loved our hotel, but at the same time, we got a taste of Ubud yesterday and were excited about our more extravagant accommodations. So, we decided to enjoy the Mie Gorang, banana pancakes, and fruit down the beach one last time before packing up to go.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3218.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3218.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Our driver from the hotel was told to take us to Ubud and stop anywhere we wanted along the way. We were excited at the prospect, but our driver did not speak English very well so we had a few communication problems. He did, however, provide us with one of the best surprises. <br /><br />I've been thinking for several days that it would be wonderful to see a Balinese school which I could compare to the Muslim schools I will be attending in Jakarta and Tangerang. I knew yesterday was the Balinese students' first day of school so it was taking a big risk. I asked our driver if he could take us to a school to observe. He drove us to a school just outside Sanur and spoke briefly to a man at the gate who gave us a nod. I expected the driver to escort us in to the school and help translate for us, but he waved us on.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3219.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3219.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3221.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3221.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />It was clearly a break as children were everywhere eating and playing. They stared, smiled, and waved from all four floors of the school. We looked around nervously for any adult. One woman saw us, but continued on her way. We obviously couldn't read the signs and it became quickly evident that most of the children could not communicate more than, "Hello!" <br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3223.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3223.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Eventually we found a man (who we later discovered was a drawing teacher), but he knew little to no English. Fortunately, he passed us on to Dr. Pujana, a 6th grade teacher. Mr. Pujana was rather confused at our presence at first, but kindly brought us in to the office to have us sign in. The office was filled (really filled!) with trophies. A few office staff barely acknowledged us before Mr. Pujana took us back outside.<br /><br />We watched as the children flocked to him taking his hand and placing it to their foreheads. Clearly, it was a sign of respect. All the children smiled and giggled at us. Mr. Pujana explained that this was an elementary school. There was a morning and afternoon session and that 1100 students attended the school. There were approximately 700 present during our visit.<br />The students were very eager to approach us and smile and say hello, but when Mr. Pujana encouraged them to try to speak in English, they got very shy. He took us in to at least eight different classrooms and explained more information along the way. Each class had at least forty students. Students take 12 classes, such as religion, art, music, math, English (although they only study English for 40 minutes three days a week). <br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3224.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3224.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />All of the children were beautiful. The youngest students fought just to shake our hands. The older students mostly giggled. Mr. Pujana had us speak to a few classes. We put our names on the board and then wrote, "California, USA". The students' eyes widened when they saw "California" and they all broke out in to applause.<br /><br />It was hilarious to see that kids are kids no matter where you are in the world. We could establish the class clown, the know-it-all, the leader in several of the classes we went in to. We especially enjoyed going to an English class. I think the English teacher was a little unnerved having us listen to her, but she did beautifully. Students got up one at a time and said their address, phone number, and a hobby. They also sang to us under Mr. Pujana's direction. He was hilarious. I didn't need to speak the language to tell he is an animated, fantastic teacher.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3226.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3226.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Near the end of our tour, Mr. Pujana took us past the clinic (nurse's station), student store, cafeteria (several areas to buy food), and the music class. We were in awe watching a room full of young boys playing the classic Balinese instruments as their teacher acted out traditional dance. They were very focused and extraordinarily good. We thanked Mr. Pujana profusely knowing we had caused quite a commotion within the school. Everyone was welcoming and kind and waved and yelled goodbye as we left. What a remarkable and unexpected experience!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3229.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3229.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3230.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3230.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Next, our driver headed to Ubud. My husband saw a travel show which insisted the best pork in the world is at a restaurant called Ibu Oka. We headed there for the pork special, which included pork that is chopped from the pig with a massive knife, its crisp skin, veggies, and rice. <br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3231.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3231.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3232.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3232.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Upon entering, you remove your shoes and sit on the floor around a table. It wasn't long before we had our specials, which you are to eat only with your hands. My husband had found his moment of zen. As he polished off his plate, he asked, "Would you be embarrassed if I ordered another?" I think there was a pig joke, but I conceded to allow him to stuff himself further.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3233.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3233.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3234.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3234.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We decided it was time to head to our hotel, Alam Ubud Culture Villas. Our driver was lost and had to ask for help a couple of times, but our arrival was worth waiting for. We entered a dream world. We were warmly greeted and asked to sit. They then gave us the most wonderful foot wash in flowered water. We were also given aromatic washcloths for our hands and face and a fabulous drink made of ginger, lemon grass, and sprite. We already felt in heaven!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3235.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3235.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3236.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3236.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3237.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3237.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3238.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3238.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br />When we looked over the edge, we couldn't believe our eyes - an infinity pool surrounded by nothing but forest. Breathtaking. We were then whisked to a golf cart and driven to our villa. We entered our first gate, then a second, and then our gorgeous villa. As he showed us our canopy bed, flower-filled bath, balcony, etc. I wanted to ask, "Are you sure this is for us?" Surely educators don't deserve all this... then again, maybe they do.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3239.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3239.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3240.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3240.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3241.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3241.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3242.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3242.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3243.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3243.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3244.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3244.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br />We opened our balcony doors and laid on our bed listening to the sounds of the jungle and we were both soon sound asleep. Blissful rest.<br /><br />It was time to get up and explore. We soon met Ade, our new driver and our favorite thus far. He was genuinely cheerful and young and eager to help us with whatever we wanted. I felt the world was trying to tell me something with the name Ketut the last few days, so I asked Ade if he happened to know Ketut Liyer, the medicine man (from Eat, Pray, Love). Ade said, "Yes! Would you like to go see him?" What?! Seriously?! I childishly screamed, "Yes, please!"<br /><br />Ade drove us through back streets to a remote area. Unbelievably, we were at Ketut's home. We went in and sat on a mat admiring all of his bird and plant life while waiting to meet him. Before I knew it, I was sitting in front of the 96 year old medicine man.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3245.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3245.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Ketut smiled revealing only two rotted teeth and asked where I came from. I told him the United States and he said, "Oooohhhh. Very good." Ketut asked me a series of questions and examined my hand telling me about my life line and fortune. He also examined my legs and back further explaining information about my present and future. I tried to remain calm as Ketut revealed many truths about my life, most of which will remain between me and this sweet man. <br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3246.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3246.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3247.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3247.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br />For all his years, Ketut moves well, speaks well, and is remarkably funny. When leaving Ketut's home, Ade explained that you can take what you will from his messages. It would be easy to walk away and say it was just fun, but I choose to believe in Ketut and this place. My heart just says so.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3248.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3248.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Ade then dropped us at Ubud Square. We reviewed the menu of a restaurant (Pindu Pindu - the name is important) Ade recommended and decided we would come back. We started to wander through the streets shopping/haggling. There were endless shops.<br /><br />After some convincing to my husband, we journeyed to Monkey Forest. (He claimed it "freaked him out".) I bought some bananas from a woman and she instructed to take one off at a time. As we entered the forest, it was dusk and suddenly dozens and dozens of monkeys appeared. I'll be honest, I panicked as they approached. I threw one banana, but they were still coming at me so I frantically threw another and another and another. Within 90 seconds, I had screamed and sacrificed all of my bananas.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3249.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3249.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3250.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3250.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3251.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3251.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />During my retreat I managed to step in to a hole and scape the back of my heal. I instantly had visions of "monkey fever". Bleeding and sufficiently freaked out, I decided it was time to make our exit which my husband happily welcomed.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/18/3252.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/18/s_3252.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Our night did not get better as we found ourselves completely lost and could not remember the name of the restaurant Ade had given us. We plotted on for what seemed like hours and eventually took a taxi to Ubud Temple (our pick-up spot) where we opted to eat at a nearby restaurant. Then the rain began. Not a sprinkle, but a downpour.<br /><br />Ade was right on time and we were thrilled to get home, but the many flights of stairs in sandals during the downpour was treacherous. We were so relieved to climb in to bed until two a.m. I heard my husband and saw his phone go on. Water had dripped on his head! He thought he was dreaming, but the downpour had caused a small leak just over him. Fortunately, the bed is big and we could shift to find comfort, but not before discovering the power was out. Hopefully rest would bring better fortune tomorrow. <br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-61704942521766563212012-07-16T17:55:00.001-07:002012-07-16T17:55:38.728-07:00Elephantine Fun!Today started with an early morning; no time for breakfast! We met our driver Ketut (which I thought was ironic because our guide yesterday resembled Ketut from Eat, Pray, Love). Perhaps Ketut is like "John" in the United States.<br /><br />Ketut gathered four other guests, a lovely South African-British family (they recently moved to England from South Africa) and we all set off for a long drive to Taro to the Elephant Safari Park.<br /><br />Fortunately, I asked to sit in front in case of winding roads. It was a good call; I would have been very ill otherwise. We all marveled at the endless carved wood and stone statues along the way. It's difficult to understand how so many products could ever be purchased. (I don't think they are.) Ketut said many are bought for temples and homes.<br /><br />As we became closer to Ubud and Taro, the rice terraces appeared. We've seen pictures, but were still awe-struck at the beauty of the fields, which were so different and far more picturesque than how we grow rice at home.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4012.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4012.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4013.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4013.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Once at the Elephant Safari Park, I wasn't sure what to expect. We were immediately welcomed and walked in to a dream world. Elephants roamed around a green haven. I've never seen anything like it before and I suddenly felt very bad for any other elephant I have ever seen in captivity. With our Brits in tow, we walked through the botanical gardens admiring the plant life and very, very large fish, giant arapaima gigas. Looking at the five foot long beast, I am willing to admit I was scared of a fish.<br /><br />When we emerged from the gardens, we were able to walk directly over to a group of elephants. I momentarily waited to be told what to do (Ah, we Americans are so trained). But to my surprise, there were no directions, no limitations, no boundaries. We basically had three elephants all to ourselves. There was coconut palm set out for us to feed the elephants. We fed them, pet them, hugged them. They nuzzled against us and gingerly took the food, allowing me to touch their ears, trunk, tusks. It was surreal and amazing. I don't even know how long we spent befriending these giants - as long as we wanted.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4014.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4014.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4015.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4015.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4016.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4016.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We were then called for our elephant ride. I think I may have ridden an elephant once in my life at Marine World back in the day when they actually had animals, but all I remember is a very brief, well monitored "ride" that was more for a photo opp than it was for a true experience. Our elephant driver helped us on Petri, the oldest elephant in the park at 49 years old. Indonesian elephants are the smallest of all elephants in the world, but she still seemed awfully big to me!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4021.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4021.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />I think I had a permanent grin on my face as Petri lumbered with her friends in to the jungle. We shifted from side to side as her enormous strides moved our seat and bodies. As we made our way through the jungle listening to our driver, we observed amazing trees, plant life, lots of bananas, jack fruit, cocoa pods, chickens, the Indonesian kangaroo (AKA cows) - we still don't know why they call cows kangaroos! <br /><br />Petri was kind enough to occasionally stop and allow us to take pictures and we allowed her to stop occasionally for a snack. Petri even treated us to hear her trumpet a few times. I examined Petri very carefully and noted how beautiful she was. Her ears, skin, and eyes all looked healthier than any other elephant I have seen. The walk through the jungle felt like we were on a magical ride and I couldn't believe how long we were gone! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4022.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4022.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />As we emerged out of the jungle, Petri and other elephants enjoyed a trunk full of water and then headed for a watering hole (with us still on top!). She slowly stepped down until she was half-way immersed and we stopped for some photos. Finally, the adventure came to a close. I said heart-felt goodbyes to Petri petting her head.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4023.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4023.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We finished just in time to watch a short elephant show featuring some of the younger elephants. They showed their tricks - painting, soccer, basketball, balancing, etc - all to the Baby Elephant Walk. The younger elephants were too cute for words. We observed as one had a bath. He literally looked like he was in heaven as they scrubbed his skin and tusks.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4024.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4024.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4025.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4025.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4026.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4026.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4027.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4027.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />It was time for a quick glance in the gift shop and some lunch. The lunch was buffet-style in an open air building which still gave us an amazing view of the elephants. It was heartwarming to see the owner and his wife riding, eating, and then interacting with customers.<br /><br />When it was time to go, all I could do was smile like a child. My husband and I agreed that this is the first time during our trip that we felt terribly guilty for not having our children with us. They would have LOVED the experience. We've promised to bring them here in the future and even stay in the Safari Park where you are picked up in the morning by an elephant, get to wash an elephant, and take a bath with an elephant!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4028.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4028.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4029.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4029.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Once back to the resort, we quickly changed for some pool time. My husband made a quick trip down the street to purchase what we call "a happy little fat guy". More on him later. We soon discovered the tide was out and when I say out, I mean OUT. (We approximated 600 feet.) We decided to explore. So, we walked through a "path" in the water about shin deep most of the way as far out as we could. There were a lot of sea urchins and big warnings so we stopped when it started to get dangerous. It was amazing being that far from shore in essentially bath water looking at fish, crab, and other sea creatures. Very fun!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4030.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4030.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4031.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4031.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4032.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4032.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4033.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4033.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4034.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4034.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/4035.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_4035.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Before long, the sun was down, we were tanned and satiated with drink. It was time to explore Sanur for a place to eat dinner.<br /><br />Choosing a restaurant is an art. You don't want to go somewhere empty. You don't want to cave to the first of hundreds of pleas to come and eat. The trick - look for locals and a packed house. The winner - Warang Coconut Tree. Everything looked and smelled great and the prices were so cheap that my husband insisted we try three dishes: a Balinese favorite chicken dish, sweet and sour shrimp, and Mie Gorang. It was all delicious (as you can tell from our clean plates). We watched as people eyed us in envy out front. It was a small shack and not a table was open. A lucky find.<br /><br />We ended the evening with a little shopping and home to bed. Tomorrow is a big day - we leave for Ubud where we have many adventures planned!<br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-6467070691713179542012-07-16T02:05:00.001-07:002012-07-16T02:05:52.999-07:00A Spiritual MomentI was disappointed to wake at 4:30 am again this morning. Apparently my body does not want to completely adjust to Bali time yet. I anxiously awaited for my husband to wake (three hours later). We started our day by eating at a small restaurant on the beach. It sounds strange, but we took turns taking bites of noodle and banana pancake. They were both so delicious! If anyone is keeping track, we are yet to have a bad meal.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/242.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_242.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/243.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_243.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We spent most of the morning/early afternoon on the beach. Absolutely perfect weather today. The cool breeze made the heat bearable and I found myself taking a quick nap.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/244.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_244.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Once again we were able to FaceTime with our children. It's funny to see them in pajamas ready for bed when we are getting ready to go to lunch. They are excited to see us, but also to make faces and fight over screen time. Nana seems to be surviving (thankfully). We are blessed to have such a fortunate situation.<br /><br />We ventured in to the streets of Sanur for lunch and decided on a restaurant (probably because they had pictures of food). We had nasi campur, garlic prawns, and bintang. Absolutely delicious. To top it off, my husband treated me to some beautiful earrings at the shop next door that I've had my eyes on for a few days! <br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/245.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_245.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/246.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_246.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/247.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_247.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />With full bellies, it was time to relax poolside. We continue to marvel at the foreigners all around us. No Americans. Australians, Japanese, Chinese, English, French, Germans, but no other Americans! We didn't have much time as we had to get cleaned up and ready to go on our big adventure.<br /><br />A driver and our guide (Kerta) met us in the lobby to take us to the infamous temple Uluwatu. Our driver never said more than two words, but Kerta cracked me up. He was full of LOTS of words. Kerta looked somewhat like Ketut, the medicine man from the film Eat, Pray, Love. He told us about everything - from the history of Bali to the traffic to the tourist attractions and much, much more.<br /><br />On our lengthy drive, I again marveled at the contrast of worlds. There would be a devastated building with people cooking in it and next door a Cartier. A pile of endless trash and next door a massive Rip Curl outlet. My eyes darted in confusion at these disparities and I just can't make sense of it.<br /><br />Once we finally arrived at Uluwatu, I was immediately pleased we hired a guide. There were hundreds and hundreds of people there. Kerta escorted us to the entrance and immediately gave us the appropriate attire (see pictures) and also warned us about the monkeys. "Don't touch them and if one comes near you, keep walking. Okay?" <br /><br />From the moment we entered the sacred grounds, we understood what Kerta was talking about. Monkeys everywhere and they were not shy. We watched as one monkey stole a woman's shoe... when she was standing. The baby monkeys were darling, but the aggressive nature of the smart little buggers made us walk quickly (but not before my husband captured them in even the most compromising position).<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/248.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_248.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/249.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_249.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />At the top of the temple, Kerta explained some of what we were seeing and then brought us to the edge. Now, I consider myself well traveled and I know the term "breathtaking", but today I actually EXPERIENCED the word. When we looked out from the temple wall, I literally gasped at the vast beauty before me. My eyes welled with tears. I was so moved by the beauty of the sea, the massive cliffs, the silhouette of the temple. It was a glorious feast for the eyes and soul.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/250.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_250.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/252.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_252.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/253.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_253.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We walked all around the temple stopping to hear explanations from Kerta and to take pictures. Kerta said Uluwatu is a special place because people release their bad thoughts and become better people which will then affect others positively. Soaking it all in, I definitely believed him. How could you not?<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/254.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_254.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/255.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_255.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Kerta then escorted us to an outdoor arena. He made certain we had the best seats in the house. Waves of people entered and we wondered where everyone would go. We were packed in like sardines. We estimated there were around 800 people; American standards (and laws) only would have allowed 400 people.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/256.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_256.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We were treated to a truly unique experience, a Hindu story in dance during sunset, which included music performed by approximately 60 men using their voices and bodies as well as a fire dance. The story was that of a princess who was captured, but thanks to the help of the white monkey Hanoman, she was saved in the end from the evil king. Near the end, the power went out (although I don't think many of us realized it at first). When the show was over, I wondered how 800 people would safely exit down the mountain. I did not see one person fall and we found our guide with little difficulty. Uluwatu was a cultural experience we will never forget. It changes you in profound ways.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/257.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_257.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/259.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_259.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/260.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_260.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/261.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_261.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Driving down the mountain, our guide wanted to take us to a special beach restaurant. Reluctantly, we agreed. Honestly, I wondered if we were being driven to our deaths, but Kerta was kind so we trusted him. Sure enough, he took us to a beautiful restaurant right on the beach with music and entertainment. We went to a window and pointed at the fresh fish/shell fish we wanted and they picked it up and cook it for us. We opted for the special rock crab and giant prawns. We watched the waves crash on to the beach and the traditional Balinese dancing while we awaited our food. We weren't sure where Kerta disappeared to, but it was nice to enjoy the moment with just the two of us.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/262.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_262.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/263.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_263.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/264.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_264.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/265.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_265.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />As we polished off our plates of food, a small band of four (two on the guitar, one on the bass, and one playing "drums" on a wooden box) came to our table and serenaded us. To our surprise and delight, they sang songs like Take It Easy and Stand by Me. Watching Balinese men sing American tunes (and quite well) - what a sweet way to end the day.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/16/266.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/16/s_266.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-19039425295143040802012-07-14T17:47:00.001-07:002012-07-14T17:47:30.582-07:00A feast for the senses!Today was a much later wake-up than yesterday (4:30 a.m. versus 1:30!) but we made ourselves stay in bed until 7:30. We ventured to a small restaurant down the beach and ate a wonderful breakfast - fruit, eggs, nasi goreng, "bacon", juice. <br /><br />Our hotel provides us with the "Jakarta Post" so we read and discussed the local news. We stumbled upon an article of particular interest: "Improving teacher learning culture". To summarize, the article suggested that many Indonesian teachers get "certified" to teach and then do not continue their learning which often leads to falling in to stale teaching. I smirked as I realized the similarities our nations face - teachers who get "comfortable" with their pedagogy and find no need to change/adapt throughout their career. <br /><br />One of my favorite quotes of the article, which is so relevant to the TGC program, could easily apply to the education system in the U.S.: "If teachers do not upgrade their skills and knowledge, then Indonesian education does not get an upgrade either. Our students have no chance in the global scrap for opportunities." <br /><br />The article also explained that the Indonesian government will now be reevaluating teachers in hopes to improve teaching/learning. It ends on a poignant statement: "By reevaluating certified teachers, by providing opportunities for inservice training, and by obliging them to share their new-found knowledge with other teachers, teachers' learning culture will increase and spirit of self development grow." How appropriate that my upcoming adventure in Jakarta and Tangerang are all about the collaboration and growth of two nations.<br /><br />Next, we decided to venture to the busy streets of Kuta. On our drive to Kuta, the scenery was a reminder that we are indeed in a third world country. It is easy to forget this when on our beautiful resort, but the devastated buildings, endless garbage, polluted water, and stray animals made me swallow hard. The image of the woman rummaging on the massive steaming garbage heap will stay with me forever. <br /><br />In Kuta, we explored what seems like hundreds of shops. I felt quite proud that I have learned the art of haggling! We also had our first bit of Indonesian rain, which wasn't even bothersome, but we used it as an excuse to sit in a restaurant and have drinks and observe. As always, the locals treated us warmly.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3405.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3405.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We made our way to Made's Warung (a restaurant recommended by my husband's brother and by our driver). We allowed the waiter to choose our order and boy, we were not disappointed. We moaned with pleasure after every bite. The spices were extraordinary. We cleaned both massive plates of food. An absolute must if in Kuta!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3406.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3406.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3407.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3407.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Throughout the day, we also explored a number of beautiful temples. I was surprised at how open the locals were at allowing us to go wherever we wanted. We observed them giving offerings and prayers. It was quite spiritual and beautiful.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3408.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3408.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3409.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3409.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3410.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3410.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3411.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3411.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We were fortunate enough to meet Munir, our driver back to Kuta. Munir is one of my favorite people we have met thus far. His English was quite good, despite the fact that he has never attended a day of school in his 36 years. He has learned from his interactions with tourists (He especially loves Americans and Canadians who help him most). Munir shared his life story with us - his mother died when he was six, he lived in poverty, had three jobs at a very young age, adopted his niece when he was a teen so she would not become a beggar, married and had three children of his own. Despite his hardships, Munir said, "But it could be much worse. I am lucky. I could be missing an arm. I am very lucky." And he genuinely meant it. Munir told us the important role of karma in his life and spoke in beautiful proverbs which reminded me of Chinua Achebe's writing. I feel blessed for our all-too-brief interaction with Munir and I will think of his positive wonderful spirit often.<br /><br />Once back from Kuta, we decided to enjoy the beach and ocean (with drinks). We also tried Beng Beng, an Indonesian candy which I discovered is made in Tangerang, one of my destinations!<br /><br />Our evening finished with a special Balinese evening. We attended an event, which I would describe as similar to a Hawaiian luau. There was endless Balinese food, drink, vendors, and traditional dancing. It was all set under gorgeous lights and decorations. We were excited to try new foods, such as the suckling pig, skewered chicken and beef, seafood soup (with crunchy fish topping), passion fruit, banana fritter, and cassava. The Balinese music and dancing was enchanting and it seems that the petite female dancers took a liking to my husband! Overall, another extraordinary day!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3412.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3412.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3413.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3413.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/14/3414.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/14/s_3414.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-35450531671757128312012-07-13T18:27:00.001-07:002012-07-13T18:27:27.850-07:00An "exhausting" dayAs hard as we tried, we were asleep quite early last night, which resulted in a one a.m. wake-up. After forcing myself back to sleep, I had a blissful rest. <br /><br />Today was full of amazing moments. We started with a delicious breakfast - buffet style. This allowed us to get adventurous with our food choices. I was ecstatic to try nasi goreng (a famous Indonesian staple) along with salak (a "snake" fruit shaped like a pointed pair - tastes like a sweet apple), banana bread, chicken sausage, fresh bread, mango yogurt, and much more. The breakfast was quite fantastic and I felt my food concerns slowly melt away.<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3544.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3544.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3545.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3545.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Thanks to the miracle of technology, we were able to FaceTime with our children on the ipad at poolside. It seems surreal to be on the opposite side of the world and look and talk to your children as if they are in the next room. Our boys weren't too interested in what we were doing. They were far more concerned with sharing what they saw at the Monterey Bay Aquarium and what new goodies Nana and Papa had spoiled them with.<br /><br />We decided it was time to be adventurous so we left our resort and strolled through the streets of Sanur admiring the handcrafted art and beautiful fabrics and textiles. We expected the vendors to be somewhat aggressive, so there were no surprises. Shopping was very similar to what you would see in Mexico. Lots of haggling and pleading, but everyone was very kind and helpful. We bought one piece of unique art (for $11.00) which the artist blessed with good luck.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3546.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3546.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />It was fascinating to watch the locals lay out their offerings (which they do three times a day!). Our taxi driver from the airport informed us that at least 80% of those living in Bali are Hindu. Their offerings are gorgeous small hand-made baskets containing flowers, leaves, food, candy (and occasionally cigarettes!). We watched offerings laid out on statues, the street, and outside of businesses. We also learned from some research that they spend close to 50% of their income on various offerings.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3547.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3547.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We decided it was time to head back to the resort. The humidity was getting the better of us and our clothes were clinging to our bodies like vines to a wall. It was pool time!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3548.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3548.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />After lounging around and in the pool for hours and enjoying the Indonesian food and drinks (minus the "nachos" - they haven't figured out how to master those yet!), I opted to be pampered at the spa. The two and a half hour spa treatment sent me to a whole new level of Utopia. The head, neck, shoulder, back, and feet massages could not be topped by the milk bath, fresh fruit, and jamu (a traditional Javanese drink). It was all exquisite. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3549.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3549.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />When I emerged from my euphoric state, we decided to again explore along the shore of Sanur. We walked along the beach eyeing vendors and their goods, restaurants, other tourists, and many locals. Everyone was so friendly. I have officially fallen in love with Balinese babies. One family let me take a picture of their beautiful daughter and insisted that I kiss her!<br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3550.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3550.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3551.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3551.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3552.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3552.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />After returning home and a well-needed shower, we decided to leave the resort and find a "local" restaurant. We had lumpia, nasi goreng, and some sort of chicken dish, all washed down with Bintang. We dined right on the beach and enjoyed listening to all the other diners (We are yet to find other Americans!).<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/13/3553.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/13/s_3553.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />We are currently fighting to stay awake and it's a losing battle. I guess it's hard work laying by the pool and being massaged. Looking forward to another fun-filled day tomorrow!<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-28666281344368151992012-07-12T03:37:00.001-07:002012-07-12T03:37:02.177-07:00We've landed in paradise!Three flights, long layovers, and little sleep and we made it safely to Bali! The flights were actually much better than I anticipated. The airlines were accommodating in every way possible and it seemed like we got here rather quickly.<br /><br />From the moment we landed, I felt like there was too much to digest. The airport at Denpasar was small and ridiculously busy. It didn't help that there was construction everywhere. Portions of the airport looked like amazing temples which stopped me in my tracks. Definitely not LAX.<br /><br />My husband was able to acquire his travel Visa in a matter of seconds. The luck kept rolling as our luggage arrived safely, we exchanged some money, and immediately found a taxi. Nyoman Suparta, a native to Bali, drove us through the insane traffic skillfully avoiding buses and thousands of mopeds while sharing any information he could about the landscapes, people, tourism, etc. I immediately liked Nyoman.<br /><br />Our arrival at our hotel was truly a Zen-like moment. We were greeted with leis, a gong sounded, and we were escorted in to the beautiful open-air lobby where we were given cool washcloths and some glorious concoction to drink as we waited for the service to tend to us.<br /><br />The hotel is magnificent We walked the grounds and put our feet in the Bali Sea. We are currently sitting between pools sipping our drinks and taking in the beauty around us. We plan to eat (to keep ourselves awake just a little longer - we are soooo exhausted). <br /><br />We can't wait to explore and relax tomorrow. I've already picked out my first spa treatment. Bali truly is a paradise!<br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/12/485.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/12/s_485.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/12/487.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/12/s_487.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/12/489.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/12/s_489.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/12/490.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/12/s_490.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/12/491.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/12/s_491.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/12/492.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/12/s_492.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Bali,%20Indonesia&z=10'>Bali, Indonesia</a></p>amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-10329113623553625852012-07-10T19:19:00.001-07:002012-07-10T19:19:42.440-07:00And the adventure begins!After a tearful goodbye with the kids, the adventure begins! We are patiently waiting at the airport for the first of our three flights. It's going to be a long journey (almost 24 hours). Good thing we are prepared with reading! Here's to the start of an amazing experience!<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/10/3717.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/10/s_3717.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad<br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-50205320389598814742012-07-09T22:17:00.001-07:002012-07-09T22:18:59.046-07:00Enjoying our last day togetherThe good news is that the nerves are in check. The bad news is that I've reached the next stage of pre-travel - sadness. My three year old hugged me today and said, "Mommy, I'm going to miss you when you are in In-do-neee-sia. I will be sad." Talk about breaking a mother's heart.<br />So, I spent the day spoiling my boys and distracting myself from the impending trip. Miniature golf, arcade, slurpees, water balloon fight. What a fun-filled day!<br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/09/4907.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/09/s_4907.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/09/4908.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/09/s_4908.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/09/4909.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/09/s_4909.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/09/4910.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/09/s_4910.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-20502205376245212612012-07-08T00:49:00.002-07:002012-07-08T09:41:14.576-07:00My bags are packed and I'm ready to go!After days of contemplating clothing choices, I have finally packed the bag. My cultural presentation is done, copies of important documents have been made, and my suitcase is officially ready to go. It's amazing how much relief I feel at this point. My hope is to enjoy the next day and a half with my family spending every moment soaking in my children. They still don't completely comprehend that Mommy will be gone for three full weeks as they are still star-struck by the promised adventures with their grandparents. I hope to take a few deep breaths and focus on the excitement of my adventure rather than all the unknowns. But for now, I'm just going to revel in the fact that my suitcase is packed.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/08/1665.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/08/s_1665.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5573527917280902460.post-2693815595430043782012-07-05T08:52:00.001-07:002012-07-05T08:52:11.580-07:00Planning, Anxiety, and Excitement... and some more anxiety.There are only 5 days left before I travel to the other side of the world and the nerves have kicked in! I am leaving before the rest of my colleagues to travel to Bali with my husband. I'm finding it difficult to be completely excited at this point because I still have so much to do - a run to Target for more essentials, pack, finish a cultural presentation, prepare gifts, etc. I'm also stressing (probably way more than I need to) about my attire during my teaching experience, accommodations, Ramadan, and the weather. In my nervous state, <em>everything</em> seems like a big deal right now.<br />
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I am grateful that I get to travel the 20+ hours to Indonesia with my husband (flights make me nervous) and that we get to look forward to a relaxing time in Bali. We have some amazing plans, including a unique bike tour through the rice paddies, ending with a meal at the guide's home. Every person we have talked to who has traveled to Bali can't speak highly enough. We're thrilled to spend some time in what seems to be a magical place!<br />
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On July 19, my husband will travel home and I will fly to Jakarta to meet up with my American colleagues from all over the nation. I have to admit, I am extremely grateful that I will not be fighting jet-lag by that point as they will. We received our agendas the other day and it certainly appears that we will be quite busy. <br />
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Our initial days in Jakarta will be filled with presentations, meetings, visitations, cultural events, etc. It's a bit overwhelming to look at on paper but also completely thrilling. I know this is an opportunity of a lifetime and I'm looking forward to the unique experiences. <br />
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After several days in Jakarta, I will be leaving for Tangerang (a suburb of Jakarta) where I will work in MAN Insan Cendekia school. I've communicated a few times with my partner teacher (Yuna Kadarisman) who has been extremely kind. In addition, I am fortunate enough to be have one travel partner to Tangerang. My colleague (Jennifer) happens to come from Davis, CA and we get along beautifully!!! We swear that our meeting and partnership was designed by the gods. We talk/stress often and have even visited once. Our teaming certainly eases my nerves.<br />
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After a little less than a week, we will return to Jakarta and reunite with our other colleagues. There will be more meetings, visitations, sharing, etc. I can only imagine how overloaded with information I will be. <br />
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Three weeks. It's a long time to be away from home. More importantly, it's a long time to be away from my family. I'm most nervous about missing my children. They are fine (for now) anticipating trips to the Exploritorium, Monterey Bay Aquarium, and the Santa Cruz Beach and Boardwalk with their Nana and Papa and Disneyland/Carsland and the beach with their Grandma and Grandpa. Needless-to-say, I wonder if they will even notice that I'm gone. My three year old makes me smile when he says, "I can't wait for Mommy to go to In-do-neee-sia so I can go to Carsland!" <br />
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So, it's back to the to-do lists. Wish me luck!amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17837381293886885694noreply@blogger.com2