Clare vs Mosquito Round 1

28 September 2014

Clare vs. Mosquitos
Round 1


A teacher at my school loves to tell me that there is only one mosquito living in my house, he just simply has a lot of friends.

Dear mosquito (and friends), today we go to war.

I've got my game face ready.

Arena 1: My Bedroom.


My Tactics:

First, I hang my mosquito net from the wall. Walls here are made of cement, so I use duct tape to complete this project.

Second, I spray 100% DEET on my legs and feet before bed. I am not yet ready to spray my face/neck, even though these areas are attacked regularly.

Third, I buy a general mosquito plug-in.

Here are my supplies:

Effectiveness:

The mosquito net falls every night when I tangle myself in it.
Clare: 0   Mosquito: 1

The bug spray involves a lot of harsh chemicals, but my feet and legs survive the night without receiving new bites. I might end up with cancer, but for now, I'm itch-free.
Clare: .5   Mosquito: .5

I have no idea how this plug-in works. Also, I tried to buy replacement inserts, and instead of inserts, they were just sheets of paper that I *think* I am supposed to light on fire. Again, I have no idea. Finally, I have only one outlet in my bedroom, so using this every night for mosquitos when I have other devices to charge is not practical.
Clare: 0    Mosquito: 1


Total Score:
Clare: .5      Mosquito: 2.5


Such is life.

Here is a photo of where I tried to tape the net to my wall:

I am committed to continuing and doubling my efforts in the future. Please stay tuned for round two. From what I hear, I can buy a tennis racket with an electrical current designed to allow me to chase mosquitos, and I can think of no better pastime.

Have You Seen My Bule?

Have You Seen My Bule?

"Bule," is a mildly derogatory term for, "foreigner."

Throughout my time here, I have heard many people openly refer to us as foreigners, but they often do not to expect that we know the meaning.

Sometimes, while out and about, I lose track of Eliza. This is one of the few times that being the two most ostentatious looking people in the room is helpful.

I now have a new method of finding her.

I approach almost anyone within a 50 foot radius of me and ask, "Have you seen my bule?"

*Blink*
Their eyes show their brains screaming, "Bule say waaaaat?"

I ask again, "Have you seen my bule?"

Then I receive a response. "Yes." They point. I find Eliza. My bule.

Here is a photo of my bule:

The Starving Games

The Starving Games

At the beginning of my grant, I made a pact with my roommate Eliza that we would try living, at least initially, without internet in our home. Our thinking was that we would have plenty of time for activities that we otherwise would not have time for were we at home browsing the internet.

Left alone with our thoughts, we must discover who we are without wifi and smartphones.

While waiting for a taxi one evening, I saw a small outdoor stand selling DVDs for a dollar. Intrigued, I flipped through an array of ridiculous titles. I indulged.

For the total price of $1.10, "The Starving Games," came home with me.

As someone who enjoys, "The Hunger Games," I decided that I would expand my horizons.

I watch as President Snowball, decorated with animated devil horns, introduces the games. Kantmiss cheers as her sister is chosen, and severed limbs fight to the death as Kantmiss, who has finally volunteered as tribute, uses a fire extinguisher to dominate fireballs flying from the sky.

Here is a picture of some tributes collecting tasty spoils from a piñata:

I wait for the movie to improve, but it never does.

Who am I without internet? I am someone who watches, "The Starving Games," straight through, despite the fact that it might be one of the worst movies I have ever seen.

Eye Transformation

13 September 2014
(with some updates from later)

Orientation nears its end, and our Bahasa Indonesia language class includes us giving a final presentation. I choose to talk about my family.

I give a stellar presentation. If you ignore the slight stammer, time spent double-checking words mid-sentence, and entirely forgetting half of what I wanted to say, I probably should have been given an award for public speaking.

I mean, I was prepared. I knew some of the basic grammar rules and some general vocabulary. I leave the room at the end of class with full confidence.

Later that day, we return to class to go over our presentations.

Moko, our teacher, kindly lies and tells us that we each made only one mistake. He fixes small grammatical errors in classmate after classmate before turning to me. "Oh Clare," he chuckles, "Today, you make me laugh."

There is a pause so that the class can laugh hysterically while I assure him of the perfection of my ridiculous attempt at a presentation.

Here is what happened:

In Bahasa Indonesian, to make a word plural, you often double it. For example, "ibu," means "mom." "Ibu-ibu," means, "moms." What I did not know, was that this is not a universal rule.

"Mata," means, "eye." Ergo, I assumed, "mata-mata," means, "eyes."

Not so. It means, "spy."

In conclusion, I quite literally told the class,  "My mom has a brown spy. My dad has a blue spy."

Here is Moko explaining the fact that I am ridiculous:

I wish I could tell you that my language mistakes are minimal, but languages are difficult and I have a talent for uncomfortable mistakes. Recently, I have taken to confusing the words for, "head," and' "coconut." In my defense, they are remarkably similar. Still, when I tell coworkers that I want to try young heads, they make no effort to maintain a straight face. As of late, the first thing said to me at school is, "let's eat young heads. Hahaha."

Squat Nation

10 September 2014

Before coming to Indonesia, I received a significant amount of information from past ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) on what to expect for the year. Because I likely would need to be home by dark each night, they suggested I find some hobbies that I might not have had time for were I not confined to a house each evening.

I was not sure that I had any hobbies. In fact, it was likely that I did not.

So, like any sane person, I searched the term, "hobbies," on the internet in the hopes of developing some ideas.

I printed out the Wikipedia page on hobbies, as it has a fairly large list of possibilities. I went through the list, one by one, imagining myself as a pursuer of each hobby. Not much time passed before I realized that I had rejected everything on the list. How was I to go to Indonesia without any hobbies when past participants in the program clearly suggested that I bring my hobbies?

Alas, I had no choice, and I did just that.

Soon, I discover a hobby that Wikipedia did not include in their list at all, though it is frequently done in Indonesia: squatting.

Here is a picture of a student squatting:

Here is a picture of members of my cohort doing it:

Finally, here is a picture of me, happily pursuing my new hobby, and content in knowing that I am no longer a hobby-less individual:

As a side note, I am not very good at squatting. It is a very difficult skill that will take some practice, but in time I will improve.

To Market We Go

6 September 2014

Today I go to the market with my cohort. I have been studying Bahasa Indonesian for 3.5 hours per day all week in addition to the training I received at Ohio University. The market is an official field trip to allow us to begin trying our new language skills. I'm pumped.

We ride in a van taxi to get to the site.

Here is a terrible angkok (van taxi) selfie:

Then we shop. The markets have all sorts of apparel. Head dresses, shirts, pants, dresses, skirts, jewelry. You name it.

Suddenly, the only phrase in Indonesian I can think of is, "Kapan Anda mandi?" This translates into English as, "When do you shower?"

On the bright side, I have clearly learned a phrase in another language. The downside is that asking people when they shower goes beyond not very useful and into the realm of awkward. To give some specifics, I might want to try on a shirt. I would need to ask for my size and the colors I want. Instead of expressing this, I am thinking, "Kapan Anda mandi?"

I did manage to buy two matching broaches, one for me and one for my site-mate Eliza. It was a slow purchase, but I managed without once actually verbalizing the expression, "Kapan Anda mandi." That, I am certain, is an accomplishment.

Here is me wearing the broach. It actually turns out to be Eliza's favorite color!