How would I know if . . .

I suck at life?  I can't be the only one who has wondered if I simply suck at life. Before you start wondering just how bipolar I am because yesterday's post was good news, this isn't out of the blue.  Shockingly, I do keep the vast majority of my life to myself.  I blog about selected topics but I don't tweet or instagram or vomit the details of my life on to multiple social media outlets.

It's been a rough stretch lately in every realm other than dating, which is quite the reversal. After moving back to the US, I got into the world of Electronic Medical Records as a trainer.  I enjoy the work, it's interesting and profitable.  The problem is that it's contract work and it is as fleeting as sunshine in Seattle in April. I worked about seven and a half months total in 2012 (granted I didn't move back until March. So far in 2013 I've worked about six weeks, which sounds great.  When you're working, the prospect of time off to travel or complete tasks around the house is like heaven. The problem is when you're not working, there's no money for travel, or groceries. What people really want is time off work with unlimited resources. I've got a couple leads, but that's been the case since early March. Still nothin'.

When I moved back, I had to get a car.  "Lucky" for me, my sister had a car that she used for about a whopping thousand miles a year.  Since it was mostly just taking up one of the precious parking spaces on Capitol Hill, she gave/lent/sold it to me. A 1995 Nissan Maxima. I just rolled the odometer over to 150,000 miles yesterday.  The engine was replaced at about 140,000 but the rest of the car wasn't.  Since I inherited it, I had to recharge the AC ($350), replace the started ($300), replace two taillights and a side mirror ($95), replace both bumper covers ($250), replace the tires ($400 plus the single replacement in Portland for another $50), get an alignment ($80) and switch from regular oil changes at $30 to high mileage oil changes at $45. This car is costing me more than a new car with payments would. Not to mention that it smells like burning oil and has started smoking if I drive is more than fifteen minutes. The catch about living on the West Coast is that it is exceedingly difficult to do so without a car unless you both live and work downtown (which I'd love but isn't likely).

Then there are the thousand little issues that make me think I might suck at life:
I was worried I'd drop my phone in the toilet if I kept it in my back pocket so I moved it to the pocket of my hoodie and only then dropped it in the toilet.
PMS and PostMS have hit like an avil on the coyote's head. I'm a roaring, irrational bitch who may have had an internal organ melt down for all I'm bleeding. Good luck to anyone who's trying to have a conversation with me, especially 25.
Either due to my "monthly friend" or other reasons, I've had either a stabbing stomachache or screaming headache pretty much every day for about the last three weeks.  I don't know the cause but it's getting old.
I've been very consistently hitting the gym for the last six weeks.  I've been a little better about what I'm eating but did have a wedding and two birthdays during that timespan. Yet I haven't dropped so much as a pound. I am, however, pounding my head against the wall.
A bottle of creme de cacao tipped over in the car and now it smells like tootsie rolls.
The dog chews up something on a weekly basis.
The cat has become a whiny bastard and doesn't seem to be happy with anything I do to appease him.  I realize that sounds typical of most cats, but he's never been that way before.
I think I'm just going to stop the list now.

On a lighter note:
I have managed to turn the Room of Doom (former bedroom/craft room.office that was overtaken by crap and became a storage room) into a less doomy, more usable room.
I've planted spinach, broccoli, tomatoes, garlic, two types of basil, four fuscia hanging baskets, and three sunny flower planters.
I am still going to the gym.
I'm figuring out how to use a food dehydrator, cook things I usually buy and stretch every dollar in the kitchen.
I haven't run 25 off.
I haven't started drinking at ten am . . . yet.

Maybe I only suck at certain swaths of life, not all of it.

How NOT to blog

Apparently, there are several things that are less than ideal for blogging.

The first, very obviously, is being on the road for work for six weeks working lots and not having a laptop.
I know this seems like a "well duh!" moment, but I thought I could work around it.  I bought a tablet because my laptop is old and slow and cripplingly heavy. I kept the tablet for a whopping three weeks.  It didn't support some of the programs I wanted, I didn't use it nearly as much as I thought I would (like for blogging!) so I got my $250 back. I thought I'd blog the first two weeks I was away when I did have my laptop with me.

I didn't.

I didn't blog when I was home on the weekends.  Granted, I'd fly to Seattle and arrive at home about 21:30 Friday night then leave again for the airport about 16:00 Sunday. That left roughly 43 hours at home. I spend those meager hours enjoying myself and to some small degree, feeling guilty about not doing chores even though that was the last thing I wanted to do.  I only got home three of the five weekends that I was working away so honestly, I don't feel that guilty about not doing chores.(promise and threat, expect at least one more blog about work).

The second thing that is less than ideal for blogging is happiness.  I know that some people do blog about all the sunshine/smiley/happy moments in life.  I've approached blogging much like a songwriter. Pain, frustration and suffering make for great songs! They are the nourishment needed for poets to create. Happiness, at least in my case, breeds blogging laziness. When I'm (mostly) happy, I don't have anything to rant about (except work of course). I have more patience.  The storm in my soul has weakened from a Nor'Easterner to a springtime Seattle drizzle.

I might be able to talk about my happiness . . . there are two reasons I probably won't.  One - It's hard to be witty and biting and sarcastic about happy things. Two - I understand that things on the internet exist forever.   I don't mind that when I'm snarky.  The happiness in my life I protect to the exclusion of blogs.  It's easy to jinx happiness in my experience. So to that end. . .

Expect a few blog coming up but still containing vitriol about common stupidity, inane life happenings and work, because that's a great thing to vent about.  Don't expect me to extol the details of my happy internal land of sunshine, kittens and ice cream.

Indonesians in the way

I used to complain about the way Madrileños walk down the street.  They always spread across the sidewalk to fill the void.  If there were two people they left a bit of a gap between to fill up at least 70% of the sidewalk.  If there were five people they would more or less string along arm in arm to fill the entire width of the sidewalk.  Walking like this is great for conversation.  It's less than great for the person stuck behind, frantically trying to pass and rush to the subway station to go to class.

Jakartans have topped the Madrileños and then some. Not only can they walk side beside wide enough to fill a mall walkway, but they've found other equally frustrating ways to be in the way.  Elevators are a great example. 98% of the foreigners I know in Jakarta complain about Indonesian elevator etiquette or lack there of. When you are waiting for an elevator and it arrives the Indonesians will immediately bum-rush the door. The problem is that there are usually people in the elevator trying to get out, especially in the malls. There are no alternate exits and I can't give you may space in the elevator until you let me get out. Simple physics. Now move back!!

A couple weeks ago I had a similar experience on an even more absurd level.  I was at a mall with some friends for dinner.  The closest bathroom has a strange layout,  there are three stalls side by side but the walkway to get to them is next to a wall and very narrow.  I have become accustomed to the Indonesian way of lining up outside each individual stall, not making one master line from which the next person proceeds forward. That took some getting used to too.  You have to make your bet on who's going to come out first, who has a child in with them, who's changing clothes, etc.  I queued and went into the stall.  I pride myself on being quick when others are waiting and within a minute or two I opened the door to emerge but couldn't. A teenage girl was barging her way in.  If you think carefully about bathroom stalls, there's not much spare space.  There was no way I was going to be able to go around.  So I laid into her with my arm and pushed out, leaving her to regain her balance.  I left shaking my head.

Another new situation had me astounded once again this morning.  I caught the elevator to the basement of my building where I walk out to meet my ojek.  Usually the elevators are empty but a woman was in it when I got on.  We rode down and she rushed to get out before me as I suspected she would so I hung a step back.  After leaving the elevator you must exit a security door to reach the garage.  She pushed the button to release the door, opened it and then stayed in the door way, bag on one side, arm holding the door on the other and me left with nowhere to go.  The security guard tried to shuffle her out of the way, at which point she turned around and looked at me. She seemed both startled to see me and to be glaring.  WE WERE IN THE ELEVATOR TOGETHER!! She knew I was there.  Where the hell else was I going to go? I gave her a dirty look, to which she was oblivious because she was Indonesian and exited.

I'm starting to think these are all a metaphor for my life in Jakarta.

AAAAARRRRGGGGGHH

I had a couple new blog posts in mind to write up this week.  I didn't get to one yesterday as the day rapidly filled up on me.  Today, those plans are being put aside because I'm so pissed off I have to vomit it out onto my blog or it will surely poison me from within.

WARNING: I usually refrain from using much profanity on this blog (has there been any?) as I don't know who my audience is and it's not ordinarily necessary.  Today it is.  I will be using a few words not appropriate for the tenderhearted.  It makes the point that I am as furious as I am. If you don't want to suffer through it, then wait for tomorrow's post.


Now back to my previously initiated RAGE.

My teaching "partner" is an absolute fuckwit. FUCKWIT!! I have had a bit of a whine about him before but I've been pushed the point of no return. A quick bio.  He's British, 40ish, looks like an evil rat when he smiles which is rarely, he eats like a starving street dog swallowing food nearly whole and dropping bits around, he's married to a limp, drab Indonesian woman.  He's is as fucking lazy as it humanly possible unless it's an activity of his choosing. Conversation with him is always work and he never knows when to stop talking if it's a topic he enjoys. I've wondered if he falls somewhere on the autism spectrum as he is socially inappropriate or oblivious, alternately. He loves looking up crime reports in online newsites, cackles at pictures of rapists and murderers but is generally devoid of an appropriate response for office chatter. To put it in his own language, he's a cunt.

He started working here about a year before I did, and he's several years my senior. This complicated by the fact that I do everything to prepare for grade four and regularly have to ask him to do something. Anything.  For example, last week I asked him to prepare three assessments; reading, speaking and listening. It's nearly year's end for us and we've got some time to get extra assessments in.  Last week he accomplished nothing towards their completion.  I also reminded him twice that he needs to put his scores in the computer so I can start to work on the overall reports. I did them entirely by myself last year after working here only five months. He's either useless on the computer or plays it that ways effectively enough that I know it would take twice as long to do it with his help. This week I asked him again on Monday to update his student scores and make up an assessment.  As of 2:15pm on Tuesday I've made an assessment, he's taken a nap.  My scores were entered after each test or two.  He's got five tests that are missing. It might be nice if I could get started on overall reports early but he's making that impossible.

I've done everything this year and last.  I was the one who put together the SOSE book.  We get to actually assemble our own science material.  It was more work than usual since last years was written by someone else who made the material boring, too difficult and uninteresting.  I went through and remade the entire book so now it's mostly activities.  Not only did it plan the whole year out in advance, it means we, I mean I, am not making copies every day. I have made or copied sixteen of the seventeen tests we've had so far this year. He made one, and only after I pestered him for a week to do it.

He's looked pretty good on the whole as he's ridden my coattails.  He doesn't belong as a primary teacher.  Today he was meant to start some water videos as intro to our new unit.  I've got a couple by Bill Nye the Science Guy.  I walked in to this video:

Watch two minutes and you'll be snoring at your desk. Jump to the 1:55 mark.  That's where I walked in. These kids are ten and elven years old.  They are also non-native English speakers to boot.  Do you think they're going to follow any of it?  They were all talking and not paying attention. In contrast this was my video:

I've used Bill Nye before in class.  I adore Bill and not just because the show was made in Seattle.  He's level correct, there are lots of short segments and pictures to help explain the concept.  The kids all sang along with the theme song. I followed it with a couple more clips and then a song by They Might Be Giants with even simpler language about states of matter (solid, liquid, gas).

To boot, he teaches one class less than I do.  He only has to deal with this attrocious grade 6 class twice a week for English while I've got them three times a week for science.  To give you a basis for how bad this class is, I said two weeks ago I'd rather sit and hit yself in the head with a hammer for 80 minutes than teach them.  That bad.

For some reason, he also hasn't been required to do a CA.  It's a form of extra-cirricular class for grades 5 and 6, usually athletic.  It runs Thursday 12:50-2:20, no little chunk of time there.  AND YET I'm doing all the real work.  I joked to a sympathetic coworker last week that he still manages to nap three days a week, which is true.  On the sofa in the teachers room.  This coworker told me he actually naps every day but the other two are when I'm in class and he's not.

He's going to continue to skate through since, being the nice person that I am who's more worried about the kids education than screwing him over in a fit of revenge, I left all the materials on the school database. There may be one little schadenfreude moment in all this at least.  It provides small, small comfort.  There is another teacher here that has generally been panned by the staff.  He's a know-it-all and a dick. He never shuts up and knows more about your own family than you do.  Well, he thinks he does.  He started here in January.  He wants to move up to grade four.  He and my current teaching "partner" will kill each other, both get fired or both. Maybe everyone will finally realize what a useless waste of space this asshole is.

Double-edged Sword

In some ways, deciding to go has made Jakarta more tolerable.  I know I won't have to put up with the traffic and pollution and BS much longer.  I'll go to a place with parks, driving laws that are followed and a societal structure that functions in general.  Another three months here is a small penance.  I'm trying to make the most of my time by seeing and doing all I can to check things off my Indonesia to do list.  Spending time with my friends is a big part of that.  Dinners, nights out, trips.  I'm burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.

On the other hand, I've come down with a bad case of 'short timers syndrome'.  It's just like when you've given your two week notice to quit your job.  Mentally you've already checked out.  You're ready for the new challenges and experiences that are sure to follow.  In the same breath that I say I can be more tolerant I know I'm not.  I'm ready to go.  I'm over the mosquitoes, the traffic jams, the torrential rain that mucks everything up, the mister-bombings.  I'm over twenty minute waits for taxis and having to wear heels to go out.

Going home is going to be a big hit to my social life.  I have very, VERY few friends in Seattle these days.  A byproduct of being away so long.  I'll be spending much needed time with my mom and waiting to get hired/get paychecks rolling again while trying to meet new people.  Life at home is full of uncertainty right now.

Jakarta is all uncertainty, but now its the kind I'm certain of.

I wouldn't expect it any other way

I've said before that my life may be a lot of things, but it's rarely boring.  Not boring can be a good thing, it can also be a stressful, chaotic thing.  Today it was the latter.

If you follow this blog you'll know I am on a big month long journey.  I left Jakarta on Monday. I jumped into a taxi about 17:20.  It took roughly an hour and a half to get to the airport but I was still there in enough time to have dinner of Nasi Gudeg Komplit before I checked in closed at 19:30.  I was there with lots of time, no rushing around, no problems.  I got out to the gate before it was open.  The flight was an hour late leaving (left at 21:30 instead of 20:30) but I wasn't bothered since I had a seven hour layover on the floor of the KL (Kuala Lumpur) airport to look forward to.

I got through customs and got my bag, then picked a nice spot on the hard floor for a snooze. ok, so far so good.  I woke up about 4:30 to check in for my 6:30 flight.  The check-in clerk asked for my Visa for Vietnam. I told her I was planning on doing Visa on arrival. Apparently that's not as clear as the name implies.  In Indonesia a visa on arrival means you show up, pay your $25 and they slap a page sized sticker in your passport. Done.  I had read about preprocessing of visa's for Vietnam but thought it was just an option.  It's not.

They couldn't let me on the plane without the visa.  I had to pay $8.78 for an hour of internet at the airport lounge, $40 for the visa with rush processing and then wait.  The turn around was supposed to be four hours, which is twas.  I then had to print out the letter to rebook my flight.  Of course by then the printer in the lounge was on the fritz.  I found this out after I paid for a ten-hour day pass. The front desk clerk was wonderful.  I politely stressed that I had to have this paperwork printed so I could leave KL.  She had someone bring another printer in and got me the print outs. I then went back to the AirAsia customer service woman who had helped me this morning.  I paid the 473 MYR (malaysian ringgits = $160) for flight change fee and the difference in fare. There were two women who, seperately, were having a go at the staff.  I couldn't figure out what the problem was but they were loud about being unhappy about it.  I admitted that it was my mistake than thanked her for her help.  She seems relieve and broke into a big smile.  A "have a good day" and I was back to the lounge with my confirmation.  It's the same flight number, time, everything as the one I was supposed to be on today, just tomorrow.

Hopefully the part in my passport will look like this when I get there and pay another $25, bringing the total for the visa to $65. Ouch!

The mistake has been an expensive one, about $270 for the ticket, the visa, the lounge and internet fees. I was able to move my hostel booking without issue but the lounge alone has been over $60 but I think I would have gone mad otherwise.  I'll be showering and having dinner in the next two hours as my time runs out. I arrived in KL at 00:30 and have been here twenty hours now.  It's another seven before check in opens and then three more until the flight at 06:30.  I hope I can sleep a bit on the floor to pass the time.  I have slept maybe six or seven hours today but never more than an hour and a half at a time. 

I swear this is Sea-Tac Airport.  I wish the chairs were like this.  The ones here have a fixed armrest between each chair!! Hence, I end up like the guy on the floor.

I am proud to be wearing my veteran traveler badge with pride today.  If this had happened a couple years ago I'd have burst into tears and called my mom in a panic.  Today I didn't cry, I didn't get upset, I just dealt with it. I've been through enough last minute traveling crisis now to know better. Do I wish I didn't have to spend the extra time and money? Yes, but it could have been worse and it's been sorted out now. Money is just money as long as you have enough to get by.  I will have another month of pay coming to me over the holidays but I'm not sure if I can access it from Vietnam in my Indonesian account.

* Update:  Hello from Hanoi! I've arrived in one pieces though exhausted.  I'm very happy to be out of the KL airport.  Just  heading out to check out the city now.

Patience is overrated

Patience is a virtue.  That's the old adage that we are told time and time again from when we are knee high to a grasshopper.  Ok, that may be a sentence a little too full of American phrases but I'm sure you get the picture.

We expect children to be impatient.  They have short attention spans, just ask any parent or teacher.  Teachers are told in training that the ideal activity for primary aged students lasts an absolute maximum of fifteen minutes, but ideally closer to ten.  After fifteen minutes the kids switch off and start using their eraser as a battering ram against their neighbor's pencil. We tell them, and work on teaching them, to be patient.  Wait just a minute.  It's almost time.  Soon.  When they can't wait, we lose our patience. I SAID soon!!!  We will go when I say we're ready. It won't be time until it's time.

sourtesy of sodahead.com

Most people get more patient as they grow up.  They learn that although time is a man made construction, we can't speed it along as much as we may want to. There are some of us, how many I have no idea as I seem to be uniquely afflicted with this in my social group, for who patience is a struggle.

My mother once told me she couldn't figure it out.  With children and the elderly I had the patience of a saint.  I could sit for hours with my Alzheimer afflicted grandmother, answering the same five questions again and again ad nauseum without flipping out. I can handle thirty kindergarteners asking the same two questions over and over all day without issue.  Give me a socially retarded (not pc, I know) adult and forget it. She said "It's just adults you have a problem with. Why is that?"  I've figured out its that the young and the old have excuses for their faux pas, their mistakes, their repetitions.  Adults who are stupid are just irritating and they should have learned better by now. Geographically inept taxi drivers, rude and lazy wait staff, confounding IT guys all bear the brunt of my impatience.

I can maintain my demeanor when waiting for mundane things or when being frustrated won't help.  A taxi stuck in the rain or the traffic here won't bear the burden of my hysterics, neither will a dentist/doctors front office.  Waiting for planes and trains aren't issues either, unless they are ridiculously late and aren't announcing anything. I'm a paradox.

That said, I am also a bit child like in the way I wait for things.  It's just over four weeks until the end of term and I'm dying for it to be over.  I probably think about it more than the kids do. I have holidays planned.  Not only am I crippled by the impatience for the first one, but the trip after that at the end of August too!! If someone says, "remind me later to tell you something" I'm immediately all a twitter and want to know now.  I revert to my six year old self and give a half beg/half whine plead to be told.   I order a great looking dessert and can't wait for it to be delivered.  I say I "can't wait" but of course I do.  My life is constantly jumping from one event to another.

All of this considered, I think I do enjoy the anticipation.  I like looking forward to something.  I like the butterflies in my stomach between the time I know we're going to kiss and when our lips actually meet.  I like crossing the days off on the calendar as we get closer to D-day, whatever that particular D-day might be.   Waiting and patience may be the most perfect combination of sweet agony I can imagine.

courtesy of everydaypeoplecartoons.com

This goes out to all of you waiting for things.  I'd love to know how you wait, if you are patient or impatient and how to make the waiting time pass. I'd send some patience along, if I had any to spare.

siiiiigh

I have a couple of, what I think are, good post ideas brewing.  I often write about the day to day stuff that makes up life.  Other times I find things that relate to daily life but have struck a different chord in some way; maybe a bigger theme or concept. Then there are days like today where I can't manage to get four brain cells lined up in a row to accomplish any of that.  I know that any real attempt at blogging, or accomplishing anything, would be nearing disastrous and would definitely involve far more energy and enthusiasm than I can muster.

I'm not sure a week with a holiday in it has any right to feel this long. Strangely I'm not the only one feeling this way.  I was talking to two other teachers at the end of the day who are in the same boat.  The kids were pushing today and we're exhausted.

It's days like this, when you're tired, and not thinking really clearly and not your usual patient, understanding self that there's not a problem; there are many.  I survived the school day only to have issues with someone else.  I am trying to chalk it up to the fact that A) we are both tired and busy, B) we were using blackberry messenger and anytime electronic communication is the means, the meaning can be easily lost and C) we're both a bit hyper sensitive right now after the last two weeks of. . . .controversy.

My solution for this today was two beers and now I'm headed for a nap.  At JIKS we also get one early leave day per month to use for trips to the bank, etc.  I haven't used mine in a couple months so I'm cashing it in as a 'mental health day' and going to see some fast pitch men's softball.  I went to the tourney last year and I'll eagerly take it as a semi-suitable replacement for the great American past time*.  I'm planning to post here in the morning but that is other work obligations pending.

All that being said, I'll wrap up with a Congratulations to Erin, a Good Luck to Manda and a Get Well to Asa.

Oh boy!

I had the best of intentions to blog yesterday. . . and then it was sunny.  Yesterday was a holiday, Waisak day.  It's a celebration of the birth of Buddha. It was also a school free day.  Some folks got Monday as well, but I won't complain since some didn't even get Tuesday off.  I could really whine about the fact that in Spain it would have turned into a puente with both Monday and Tuesday off for everyone, but I'll show some self restraint.

I spent part of the morning out in the sun being stared at by all the Indonesians.  Yes, I know it's a Muslim country but if you can wear micro mini skirts in public and at restaurants then I can wear a bikini at my apartments. A "quick run" to Ranch market resulted in a massive bill for a single bag of goodies.  I did, however, find cool ranch doritos, chorizo, salami, blue cheese and chevre.  The dinner of olive oil, pan fried eggplant, portobellos, asparagus with cheese bits and sea salt was divine.  After shopping but before dinner I managed a swim and had a great long chat with Carla.  Not a bad day!  Capped off with a dvd and then an unfortunately horrendous night sleep.  Ugh,  so much for being rested after a day off.

When a holiday day breaks up the week it always feels like there's an extra Monday.  Today felt like Monday.  I'm glad it wasn't. I'm really glad that in reality I only have to survive two more days (plus business class tonight) to get to a weekend.  If the week were any longer, there might be bloodshed.

One of my classes has decided to see if they can drive Ms. Melissa off the sanity cliff by semester break.  They are a difficult class for many reasons but namely that of fourteen kids, only four are girls. With ten boys in the class, I've run out of room to separate the naughty ones.  There are about five boys that talk, sing, yell, get out of their seats, throw things, you name it.  A couple of those boys can be neutralized when there is distance between him and his mates.  Short of installing seat belts on the chairs or moving some of the chairs to the ceiling, I'm outta space.

A second class is evenly split between girls and boys.  This is the highest functioning class. I don't know if its because of the class, if the homeroom teacher got them in line or if that class just randomly got the best kids.  Their scores are the highest, they are the least likely to turn in work late and they listen the best in class.

My third class is in the middle but usually leaning towards the better class.  This group is nine girls and six boys.  They can get rowdy but I can control them for the most part.  There are a couple of really smart kids and they work together pretty well.  Even the lower level kids work hard.

It's just that first class.  They are lazy, perpetually turning things in late, shouting, screaming and goofing off class. Siiiigh.

My two pronged approach of rewards (stickers that can be traded for rewards of game time, erasers, etc) and punishments (lines, homework) has worked as well as I'd hope, EXCEPT with this one stupid class!  Add that to the fact that my school computer is loused up once again, and it's been a long day.  You'd think that with the frequency of trips the computer guys make to our teachers room they'd learn to just fix it the first time.  But no, this is Indonesia.  I figure his incompetence is planned because it keeps him employed.  Unfortunately they won't get someone who actually knows what he's doing. Instead they keep these guys on and permit them to do a piss poor job.Of course I assume he could plan and plot to be incompetent when in actuality he's not and that's a big leap.

All that will make this weekend even better as there is dinner with D on Friday, softball tournament on Saturday and lounging on Sunday on the books!

When I fall apart

As I have vowed not to discuss my love life, or lack there of, as more than a fleeting shadow, this blog post is tricky. Its not the easiest vow to adhere to.  There are times when I'd like to gush about the wonderful, serendipitous, slightly maudlin (insert something fantastic or amazing here) that just happened. Other times I'd like a full on, internet rant to bitch about the awful, unfair, heart wrenching thing (again, insert one here) that happened.  Because I know there are actually a few folks out there reading this, and some of them may be people who I see or correspond with, I am not convinced allowing myself to do either gush or rant is a great idea.  Especially on the internet where nothing is ever really gone, ever. Just because I delete it and can't find any trace of it definitely doesn't mean that a more tech savvy twelve year old couldn't find it and exploit my one moment of stupidity in internet publishing.

Courtesy of debretts.co.uk.   You won't hear more from me than this.

That being said . . . I'm going to walk the line a bit today. There will be a slight (like ephemeral fog on a sunny morning) mention of some sort of infatuation element.  I won't go into detail, but for now, it's as close as I'll get to a mention of there being a man kinda in my life-ish.

My friends here in Indonesia know all about the drama from last weekend. It was a perfect storm of the way Jakarta can louse up plans, a lack of communication, an additional lack of phone with which to communicate and lots of drinking (not on my part).  He pulled a 180 on me and I was totally over-turned by the events and they're unexpected nature. Since it's all still new and (now less than) shiny, I had only a short history for comparison and was sure it was all intentionally inflicted agony.

I was one part crying, upset woman

It was three very long days for my friends, I'm certain. There was shouting, and pouting, crying and rationalizing.  There was definitely sulking and confusion.  That was all on my part.  My friends must have been tired and thoroughly irritated for having to put up with me.  Zoë especially.  I know she must have been because I would have been.  She was at my side both Friday and Saturday nights.  Yet, she never betrayed her calm, patient exterior.  That's what a friend is.  It's someone who will let you moan about the same guy for two straight days, over dinner, through drinks, and never cut you off.  She never said I wasn't justified, that I should just suck it up, give up. Or if she did, it was with the softest sell waiting to see if I jumped on that boat.  There were a few people that did. They found out rather quickly how poorly that would go over with me in the state I was in.

and one part Calvin angry tantrum.

Zoë put up with me longer than anyone else, but she wasn't cast in the role of sole supporter.  I found myself encircled by girls who held me up and held me together all weekend. Lest the girls get all the props, there were two sweet boys who did everything possible to make me smile, and both succeeded.  Who'd have thought an American guy and a Frenchman would be the ones helping me regain my sense of humor and smile?

They joined the small flock of lovely ladies that did everything they could to simultaneously support, vindicate my logic, trash the person in question, rub my back and just let me cry. They were there in person, on blackberry messenger, and in my thoughts.  To the family I now know I have in Indonesia, thanks.  Next one is on me.

Courtesy http://www.zocalosacramento.com/2011/04/21/tequila-festival-may-2nd-6pm/

Back amongst the living

I have survived the worst of it now I figure.  Of course, knowing me, now that I've said that I'll end up hospitalized with Dengue or The Plague. Here's a condensed rendition of the events of the past two-plus weeks of Melissa health news.

I'd been sick for about six or seven weeks with nondescript digestive issues. I eventually went to the doctor and was told I had a bacterial infection in my intestines.  Pills and patience was the prescription and I seems to be on the mend.

I went to Singapore (blog to follow about that) for 6 days.  I arrived Friday and really enjoyed myself until Monday afternoon.  Prior to Monday I did have a few little digestive "hiccups" which I attributed to too much curry or the change from Indonesian food.  By Monday afternoon I was in a fair amount of pain and I limped back to my hostel.  I didn't sleep more than an hour Monday night as I was in agony.  I believe that I have a high pain tolerance.  I may whine but I'll trek on through most things.  This pain absolutely felled me.  It felt like I was being stabbed on either side of my belly button.  It was sharp and radiated back to my spine. By the wee hours of Tuesday morning I'd set a deadline: If I didn't feel at least marginally better by 7 am I would go to the hospital. I gave in at 6:15 and caught a cab. 

When I got to Singapore General Hospital I was nearly in tears.  I couldn't breath deeply or stand up straight.  I was flashing back to my father's bouts with pancreatitis which were the only times in his life I'd seen him in tears.  I thought it must be that, or my appendix, or something else equally serious for me to be in that much pain.  I was sent to registration, then triage, and then to the waiting room.  I probably was there only twenty minutes or so before I was seen but if felt like two days.  Once I was called, a tiny nurse, no more than a third my size, insisted on taking my arm to assist me as I was hunching over and moving the speed of an injured snail.

The doctor was a tall, big boned Asian looking man who's face I never saw from behind his mask.  He asked a few perfunctory questions, listed to my heart, felt my abdomen and drew blood.  I'd submitted for a urinalysis upon entry. The put an IV in my hand and ran what would eventually be two liters. Then off to x-ray.  The tech there helped be undress, and by this I mean she physically man-handled me to undress me as I was more of less incapable. I took out my bellybutton ring and lost it at some point before I left.  The two x-rays were torture as it hurt to stretch out and lie flat.

Back to the observation room until the labs were back.  I did nod off there for a couple hours.  Id been there about three hours when the nurse woke me to say it was a bladder infection.  I was a bit dazed and not able to understand how that was but didn't ask many questions.  The IV was removed, and I was sent "home". All in all the trip was much more affordable than I feared.  The visit which in The States would have run into the hundreds easily, cost me 95.55 SGD ($78, or 52 Euros). That included all the diagnostics and prescriptions.

It was then Tuesday and I was determined not to miss out on the last of my holiday so out I went to meet Alysson for lunch.  I continued to feel really bad until I threw up in the restaurant toilet and it was about that time I started to seriously doubt it was a bladder infection. I took the medications for two days without much change or relief.

I arrived back to Jakarta Wednesday night and pledged to go to the doctor again on Thursday.  Returning to the doctor (Dr. Melissa) that I'd seen before, I still had some of the bacteria around from before but now also had a massive yeast infection in my intestines.  WHAT?  I thought that was a lady parts problem.  Apparently not, one can get a yeast infection in the kidneys, stomach, mouth and throat additionally. It's been a long, sloooooow road to feeling (mostly) well again.  That road contained four medications (one an anti-fungal which sounds revolting), two weeks without carbohydrates and sugars, and several backsliding moments of increased pain. Today is my last day in carb banishment but I've just found out it needs to be another three weeks sugar free. SIGH! I do feel much better aside from the nasty cough I picked up yesterday morning so I'll carry on sugar free.  My friend Julia swears I've lost some weight, if I haven't I'll be pissed.  At least I can answer the call of the Bintang beer that's been whispering my name for over a week.

Everyone seems surprised that Singapore totally muffed the diagnosis and Jakarta got it right.  I think the docs here are more accustomed to dealing with dodgy stomachs but who knows.  Until I really real 100% I'll be taking any good juju or positive thoughts you can send my way.

Do I generate my own magnetic field?

For this blog, I owe creative inspiration to my mom. It's become a long running joke between us that I ruin technology like no one else. There's been another bout of "Melissa as the technological Bermuda Triangle" over the last couple months.

couresty of superphysics.netfirms.com.  I imagine my magnetic field looks like this.

I roughly estimate that in the last six years I've gone through two laptops (I'm on the third), a hard drive (on the second), two i-pods, several cameras and more headphones than I can remember.   I believe most technology was built with planned obsolescent in mind.  Even if you buy the best digital camera available now, in two months it will quickly be on it's way to the rubbish bin.

My sister is usually quick to hop on to new technology.  She implores why I don't have a _______ yet, and ______ could be anything from a model cell phone to a computer program.  I always wait several versions, waiting for the manufacturers to realize what they screwed up and fix it in the successive models.  Great example was the i-phone that was released last year that couldn't make phone calls.  Seems like that might be a requisite for something called an i-PHONE!!!

As much as I love music,  it wasn't until generation 15 or so that I got an i-pod.  Last week I dropped my beloved 120gb classic i-pod off for a battery replacement.  In Indonesia that mean that you will actually be getting a new i-pod of the same model.  My old one went out after a power surge at the crap hole boarding house I was staying at before. That power surge also blew out my blackberry, of which all the innards have been replaced. My mother very kindly lent me her old i-pod, a skinny one that holds a whopping 125 songs.  I scoff but I would have gone crazy the last month on the back of the ojek without it.

courtesy of methodshop.com  The frown is how I felt. The battery went out on my so I didn't even get this icon.

Now my blackberry is going out again.  I'd been in Indonesia about three months when my first phone went missing.  I replaced it with another cheap brick phone and kept that one when I upgraded to a Blackberry last August.  The blackberry was stolen in October and I bought a used one from a friend.  This is my current phone.  It's at least three models old now,  has had the screen, battery and circuitry replaced once and spent three nights in rice drying out (dessicant is my current favorite word).  I had a leaky water bottle in my purse the first time, the second was a fall into a small amount of water that couldn't even be termed a puddle.  The third time in the rice was Sunday night.  I don't know what happened to my phone so I thought I'd stick it in rice over night anyway.  Monday I had to reinstall several programs and blackberry messenger still isn't working well.  The keys are also sticky.  I either get five i's or none.  Looks like I'll be phone shopping again shortly.

courtesy of bgr.com

When I went home for the Christmas holidays the internet went out.  Actually, within 48 hours of my arrival the router went out.  Not just the internet signal, my mom had to buy a new router.  She swears I caused it.  I think it should be remembered that I was the good luck charm when we went Christmas shopping and found stellar parking spots but I'm not sure if they cancel each other out.  Printing the final copy of the new science book after returning from holidays was nearly impossible, as are many technically related tasks at work. Printing, internet and access to the server are all out of service on an at least twice weekly basis.

courtesy of cabq.com.  Wave of the future?

I don't think, however that I generate my own gravitational pull.  On the day I do, someone must say something!

And now to return you to your regularly scheduled program

Apologies once more as I haven't managed to blog regularly.  There's enough that's happened in the last week that I'll break it into at least three blog, in no specific order.

Monday brought another trip to Singapore for a work visa.  I'm still unsure why we have to leave Indonesia to get the visa, though someone told me that it works that way in most countries.  Since this is the only country I've gotten a work visa in, I cannot attest to that.  Most people go to Singapore once a year at most.  In fourteen months I've made three trips now.  I'm not necessarily complaining.  It's nice to get out of smelly, chaotic Jakarta for clean, orderly Singapore.  The food in Little India alone is worth the trip.  The shopping is different too.  I made it to an Ikea there.  It's the only place I could find butter knifes. I am now the owner of three. Don't ask me why Jakarta doesn't have butter knives. When I had this discussion with a friend she pointed out that I should just use a spoon.  I said the spoon wouldn't fit in the jar.  That's what the handle is for she said.  Right, so the I can grab the handle five minutes later only to be cover in peanut butter.  I'm more and more convinced that this country was founded on the principle of deciding what is logical and then doing the opposite.

Singapore has not one but TWO Ikeas.  Jealous!

Going to Singapore again reminded me of the incident that provoked me to start this blog.  Again I was the only non-Korean in the group.  I followed not by understanding what was going on, but from a heightened understanding of body language.  The longer you live in places that you can't understand what is said, the better this ability gets. I had to explain three times that I didn't want to do the tour since it would be entirely in Korean, which I don't speak, and I'd been to Singapore twice previously. At that, I was told to get out quickly and meet at 5pm, Airport terminal 3, gate 1. Right 5, 3, 1.  Got it. I had Ms. Kim's (no fake name needed) mobile number.

I went to Little India for lunch and shopping.  The kidney beans and dhal (lentils) that I bought would be warmly received by co-workers who promised to bring me a share of the results. I also stocked up on dhall and curry sauces for myself.  At 2 SGD per 500gm, it was a steal and worth lugging around all day. Then an MRT subway ride with two transfers to IKEA.  Butter knives, a frying pan, two items for a friend and a stop at the food center there made me a happy camper.  Carrying all the crap after didn't.

I arrived back at the airport at 4.  I figured early was better than late.  Plus I'd get my passport, process my Tax rebate, go to Duty Free for the required liquor purchase, grab a snack and be on my way.  Best laid plans.  The woman was 45 minutes late.  I tried to call, no luck.  Though my phone worked when I arrived, both smsing and bbm, neither were working by the end.  Luckily (I suppose) my flight was delayed from 1830 to 1900 and eventually to 1930 for departure.  This meant rushing to get things done and then hurrying to the gate only to sit and wait 40 minutes.  Sigh.  Nothing here is ever easy.

Though the office personnel who handle visas assure me that there isn't a problem with the visa, I'm unconvinced.  My visa says 12 month visa.  Start February 28, 2011, expiry May 29, 2011.  I'm told that's the processing window.  If I'm deported in four months, we'll know why. I made my concerns know to the administrative staff and my departmental head who is Korean.  They brushed it off.  As they did with my monetary complains.  We are the only school I know of that doesn't provide either the school car or money for a taxi to go to and from the airport.  I had to argue to get them to pay the airport tax (150,000Rp) and lunch (100,000Rp).  The taxis alone cost me about 300,000Rp.  Plus getting photos taken, another 75,000Rp.  It all boils down to one more way the school is about nickel and dime-ing us to death while pushing programs that we don't want or endorse but they spend heaps of money on.

Highlights of the trip were shopping, being reminded that usable public transport exists and seeing Michael Jackson.  At least he looked like him.  Down to the slightly too short pants, and sparkly white socks under his loafers. Maybe he had the plastic surgery and whitening treatments reversed?

BS at JIKS

Working in a foreign country is difficult and can be frustrating. Working with Indonesians in Indonesia as an American is a practice in patience and adaptability. One must learn to mosey not speed walk, to expect that anything you need done post haste will take twice as long as if you don't care when it's accomplished, to know that traffic and/or weather are excuses for anything from late arrive to a task not being completed, and understand that anything worth having done will require multiple requests and follow up.

That all being taken into consideration, now add another layer of confusion.  I work at a Korean school.  The misconception, or at least my preconceived notion, was that Koreans are much like the Japanese. Organized to a fault, businesses that run like well oiled machines, on time and above all efficient. That may be the case IN KOREA but it couldn't be farther from the truth here.  As an example, when I tell people I work with Koreans they expect that the kids are quiet and orderly and attentive.  

courtesy of facebook.com

If only.  The kids mostly grew up here and are firmly entrenched in Indonesian nanny society.

But I stray, back to chaos and frustration at work. I started in August and never got a contract.  I asked, I inquired, I queried, I even investigated. Anyone is a position higher than mine was subject to questioning.  In the end I was told that Koreans don't really believe in contracts, but they are required by the Indonesian government.  Since I was showing up and getting paid, I really shouldn't worry about anything.  Other than getting 1/2 the medical reimbursement since I was only there half the year, I was a regular member of staff.

Uuunnnntttttiiiiiilllllllllll January. We'd all been notified before holidays that we would be getting a raise when our new contracts came out in February.  Great! Merry Christmas!  It wasn't enough to keep up with inflation but it was something. Of course, what you say or do at one point has little to no bearing on any point in the future.  Upon return to class (which was still the end of 2nd semester 2010, not 1st semester 2011 which would start in February) we were told contracts were still in negotiations.  The teachers were standing together and either we all signed or no one did.  Unionization in a bastardized way.  I'm still in support of it.

February, the new school year.  And now the story has changed.
The conversation between the "Head of International Teaching" who is Korean, and I went a little like this:
Korean HoD: When you sign your contract you'll only get half the raise everyone else gets because you've only been here one term.

Me:WHAT?!?  

You did pass your probation without incident but . .   

What probation? 

It's in your contract.

I've never seen or signed a contract.

You what?

I asked and asked for a contract and never got one.

Ohhhh, hmmmm.

I show up and get paid but I've never even seen a contract.

Well, when you get this one it will only be for half the raise.

I'll talk to the native teacher head of English.

At which point we broke off because it was pointless.  Needless to say, after a week of negotiating, "mafia thug tactics" (not my term), passive aggressive threatening of my work visa and hours of waiting, I ended up signing, at half the pay raise because I needed to get my visa renewed, had just confirmed my apartment for six months and mostly I needed to be able to plan my life.

Last week and this week the issue has been meetings.  We had a meeting last Friday that ran and hour and a half and should have been sorted in 30-40 minutes.  Today we had a meeting to go over what the meeting next week will cover and to advise of a meeting on March 14th. In addition to being mostly useless, now they are redundant.

Deep breath, just accept the things I can not change and don't let them drive me mad.

A potential reason, or cause of, dating frustration in Jakarta

I have resisted, and had to work hard to do so, writing much about dating, personally or generally, in Indonesia.  I think, after finding this article, I can no longer keep silent.
Please read this article from Java Javakini paper.  It is available in paper and e-copies.  I have added a link here: http://www.jakartajavakini.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=category&layout=blog&id=99&Itemid=63.

If you read this article and find that it is all logical and you will put them into use starting tomorrow, then stop reading now.  I have given you useful information and you can be on your way.

If you read that article and found yourself shaking your head, giggling or muttering "HUH?"  or "What the heck?", please read on.

Let me start with a quick explanation of my situation here.  I have many friends who are covered under the same umbrella.  Unfortunately, I have realized, only after moving here, that Asian men aren't my cup of tea.  I know ladies from many a Western land that have Indonesian or Asian boyfriends and are content.  I find that on many levels, I am not drawn to them.  Physical attraction to Asian men is rare for me, and even when it does occur I find we lack a common language.  Difficulties in communicating, differences in religion, upbringing and expectations provide more enough hurdles and I'm tired and skeptical before I've even started the race.  That leaves Western men.  Here's my break down.  Of the relatively few "white" guys who make it to Jakarta:
40% come with a wife/girlfriend/family as they were moved here by their company or
of the remaining 60%:
85% are into Asian women for a whole host of reasons that could be it's own blog entry.
5% are gay and 
10% are into Western women.
So if we use a sample of 1000 men, that's 400 are spoken for, 510 are not interested in me, 20 are headed to Thailand and 40 are into "my kind". That makes for slim pickins. Plus you have to weed out the jerks, liars, assholes and losers. When you get to the few that might be remaining, they have their pick of the litter, as there seem to be more bule (foreign) women that want bule guys than vice versa.

That being said, my girlfriends and I spend a inordinate amount (compared to what or who I do not know) of time talking about and looking for men.  I stumbled upon the above article this week, otherwise it would have provided for hilarious reading while sharing a drink with my girls on Valentine's Day.

Whether its PC or not, I believe much of my ridicule of this article stems from the fact that, based on the names, it was written by two Indonesians.  If you don't live here, you won't get why that's important but nonetheless my issues with this article are as follows: 
#1 - Make sure you smell good - this really deserves to be first?
#2 - Go on an alternative date -  Taman mini is about the only alternative date available.  It's an "amusement park" and I use that term loosely, that showcases all the parts of Indonesia on one grounds.  I'd love to go bowling (the alley in Senayan closed recently), play mini golf or twelve other things I could do in other places.  Give me more than two suggestions and I might make it work.
#4 - Stay in Shape -Basic enough that it doesn't really need a mention
#5 - wear shag shoes (for women) - why is this only for women?  And while not obligatory, 99% of Jakarta does anyway.

courtesy of amazingdata.com.  Do they count as shag?

#7 - Master the Kama Sutra - Is this really something one should attempt alone?
#8 - stock blue pills - Unless my date is 50 - 60+ (which he shouldn't be), hopefully this wouldn't be necessary and if it is, it's that a red flag?
#9 - go on a weekend away - this would work if you are in a relationship, not looking for one.
#10 - Learn from romantic films - THIS IS THE ONE I TAKE MOST ISSUE WITH!!!  No one, anywhere, ever, should watch a rom-com and "learn" something from it.  What is there to take away from Casablanca? Boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy regains girl, and loses her again? Or Love Actually which tracks about six different relationships with all kinds of issues.  Life does not end happily ever after or wrap up in 90 minutes.

courtesy of filmguide.wikia.com

#11 - get the latest gadgets - If someone hits on you because of the phone you have, it's probably not going to be a meaningful relationship.
#13 - learn a foreign language -  In a country where almost everyone speaks at least two if not three or more languages, I think this was more a reason to use "cunning linguist" in the article.
#14 - Pimp your ride - see #11

courtesy of fastcoolcars.com

#19 - Moustache Poeticque - This is misspelled as there shouldn't be a c in Poetique. There is no explanation and since the google lead me to photos like this one. I am still confused.

courtesy of bellespics.eu

#20 - Get Drunk - because this always improves your judgment and appeal. Notice it doesn't say "have a drink or two" but get DRUNK!

courtesy of pixiq.com.  SOOOO SEXYYYY!

 The next 3 aren't so much an issue as the order they are in that cracks me up:
#21 - Crash a high society gathering (WWJD?) then #22 - Go to Church (ahh, that's WWJD) and #23 Try speed dating.   These are all on the heels of #20 above (me shaking my head in disbelief).
#28 - Get a new job - Looking for love is a great reason to leave the stability of employment for the unknown.
#31 - Be an instant celebrity - If deciding to be one were all that was necessary, wouldn't we all be famous and getting laid?
#34 - Join a dating site - I have done this before, with moderate success.  I find it pointless here as all the men are white and all the women are Asian and they are all looking for the other and not me (white female). There are some Indonesian men looking for white women, but again - not what I'm looking for.

#35 - Collect great pickup lines - This may often work but what gets me is the example they give :Do you like pizza?" immediately after saying the pickup lines should be witty and subtle.  HAHA, doesn't get wittier than that!
#36 - Don't give mixed signals and #37 - Move on - are much easier said than done.
#39 - Avoid Malls - I rant on a regular basis that all there is to do in this bloody city is go to the mall, or go eat and drink.  If not the malls, then where?

courtesy of thesocietypages.com

#42 - Be a poet - The rest of the rationale is where I get lost. Its odd and ridiculous.
#44 - Be generous - Because people will only date you if you give them things and you should only date someone if they do.
#46 - Learn how to juggle - after the rest of this list I thought they meant literally.  No, instead you need to learn to have many lovers and consider polygamy.
#47 - Get inked  - The dumbest reason ever to get a tat.

courtesy of dailyhaha.com.  DOUBLE SUPER SEXY!

#49 - Nick someone else's lover - I can't wait until Karma comes back around.  If you are considering this, go back to #22.
And lastly #50 - Read this list.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry as this may be more indicative of the dating scene here than I want.

Back to the grind(ing) stone

After weeks of holidays that took me to new, fun, fantastic interesting places, I've had to settle back into life in Jakarta. I think my culture shock was almost greater coming back than when I first arrived.  During my first year here, I learned to put up with the flooding, the lack of dependability and reliability, the overpriced "american" foods and _________ (fill in the blank there's lots of options, horrendous traffic, torrential rains, etc, etc).  I went home and things worked as they were supposed to.  People drive between the lane markers and stop at red lights,  they don't push and shove, the lines at the market move quickly and orderly, and there's not a choking level of pollution in the air (For more information on pollution in Jakarta, see this detailed blog post) . Coming back and dealing with the city that can frustrate more often than it can soothe is a difficult transition.

The good news is that my new apartment makes life much more enjoyable.  I am paying slightly more than twice than I was before and it's worth every penny.  I am in a 33.5 sq. meter studio.  It's cute and well organized.  My apartment building has tennis and badminton courts, a huge pool, and a 24-hour grocery store. The best news is that it reduced my ojek time from 45 minutes each way to about 25.  It's also loads closer to Kemang, an area of the city which is great for going out.  AAANNNDDD Carla is my building mate.  We get to see each other everyday but still have our own apartments and our own spaces.

Coming back to Jakarta meant starting a new school year.  Most schools run their year September to June (or so).  JIKS starts in February and runs until December with a six week break in the summer.  It feels very different to have new kids at this time of the year, but the timing with the new calendar year, and coming off Christmas holidays seems to make sense. Last year I started mid year, after summer holidays at the beginning of the second semester.  It was a difficult start for many reasons and not the least of which was starting in the middle of the year.  With all new kids I have been able to set my rules and my classes the way I  want them. Now, just two weeks in to the year, they know the routine and the rules. I've set up a yellow card/ red card system like in football/futbol/soccer.  If they are breaking a rule they get a yellow card which is just a warning.  If they do it again they get a red card and that can mean lines or losing a sticker (which they can collect for privileges or prizes).  Don't write and tell me that footballers get TWO yellow cards, I know. For a 40 minute class they don't need two warnings. It's not perfect but it's much much much better than last year.

I also know better what to expect, how to handle the kids and also, retraining myself.  I have gotten accustomed to shouting to get their attention.  The combination of loud smokey bars, polluted air and going into both regularly has done a number on my voice.  My voice seems to fall between a husky phone-sex operator and a Phyllis Diller-style lifetime smoker. I drink tea, sometimes with lemon or honey, or Lo-Han-Kuo (a herbal Chinese concoction), I suck on vocalzone lozenges and drinks tons of water, yet I was still hoarse all day today.  Suggestions welcome as to the cause or the cure.  Part of my new school year plan has been to limit the amount of shouting I do.  Part of the problem is that I yell for fun and to get the kids hyped up, not just when they're too loud or in trouble.  I am getting better, but it's not a change that has been made automatic yet.

The stress of year end at school

As you may have noticed, I have been fairly absent from the blog in the last week to ten days.  I have also been slim on time for email, facebook and instant messenger.  It is one of two times a year that stretches teachers thin. It is end of term reports. This is my first round of reports here at JIKS which means the level of chaos is exponentially higher, though it tends to come thick and fast here anyway.


I started from a spreadsheet designed by an anal retentive, detail oriented guy with high technological capabilities.  He didn't pass on any explanation to my teaching partner, Ben, before he left.  Since I am a mite more saavy on the computer than Ben I've taken the reigns on the reports. The aforementioned spreadsheet is 24 columns by 37 row for four pages, each a different class, for SOSE (Study of Society and Environment) and 37 columns by  36 rows for four pages for English.

A screenshot of one part of the spreadsheet with names removed.  Color coded, and super complicated.  Lucky for me it's in English as many things here aren't. 

 After compiling the "final" scores on this sheet I then had to convert those totals into scores of 10-5 for speaking, writing, listening and participation or 5-1 for reading, social participation and subject knowledge. Those scores will then translate a score out of one hundred and that converts again to H(igh), M(edium) or L(ow) and A,B,C,D or E for overall grades. This all combined with a one sentence comment that was also put on a Word document and given to the homeroom teacher.  This spreadsheet below is only for the English department.

High, Medium or Low and A-E are the third and fourth conversion of the students grades. 

The comments were first sent in a word document to the Korean English teachers for review.  They usually give them back with questions or corrections.  For one class this year they gave the reports back signed but then came in two hours later with corrections.

After that, these are completed and have to be submitted to the department head who usually kicks them back with a few minor corrections, like missing a full stop (period for you in America, the thing at the end of a sentence).

The last stage is the individual report.

 

Each student takes home an individual report. The left side details are for English and the right side are for SOSE.

Now that you see what I've been wrangling with lately I hope you'll understand why I haven't had the additional energy to blog.  As my mother so poignantly asked "are you reviewing them to advance to grade 5 or to go into the space program?" I don't think even NASA is this complex.  I hope to have the reports done tomorrow but then they'll need to be printed, signed and stamped.  I depart for home (Seattle) on December 22nd, next Wednesday, so I have to be done before then and hope to have a crack at writing the SOSE book for next year as well.   I really don't want to schlep that on the plane.

Don't give up on me, and keep an eye out for at least one more this week.

Adventures in Transportation or 101 ways to get to work

Now that I've moved to a different part of the city I have to reassess and reconfigure my routes and modes of transportation.  If you are a regular reader you'll know that I have had many an issue with transport, particularly ojeks, here in Indonesia. The new 'Pejaten era' of my life here is no different.  The ride to and from work should be fairly straight forward; go down my street to the next major street, hang a left and go and go and go.  At the end of the trip there is a right and then two left turns to get into the school.  The key word in that last sentence is should.

I know Jakarta can feel like this.  I wonder what it actually looks like from above. Courtesy of marcofolio.net

The first day (Tuesday) I went from my new home to work by taxi.  7,000Rp for the toll and 40,000Rp for the ride.  Ouch! Remember I was paying 65,000Rp round trip for an ojek from my old place which was farther away. I'm a bit stumped about the toll system. I took a toll road on the way to a business class I teach on Wednesdays and that toll was only 2,000Rp.  Each toll has it's own amount but I am not privy to why each one is different. The two to the airport are 4,500Rp and 6,500Rp. I found out there's a free teachers bus (aka van) that makes two stops-Citos mall and Blok M. It only runs in the afternoons at 4pm.  Citos isn't too far from me so I took the bus there with the intention of getting a kopaja bus or angkot home; ojek was the backup plan.  The ojeks wanted 25,000Rp even after Carlas maid said it should be 5-10,000Rp tops. I waited 15 minutes for the appropriate bus or angkot with no luck.  Taxi again.

On Wednesday I went looking for an ojek.  I walked with Carla to her school, about 12 minutes down the road.  No ojeks were to be found.  Instead one of the very sweet security guards from her school gave me a ride.  I asked him how much twice and he just blushed so I insisted he take 20,000Rp for gas.  He said there's no bus or angkot that runs to my school from Carla's school.  Hmmmm. I finished work at 3:30pm but was waiting for the teachers bus. At 3:45pm the Korean coordinator in my department, the same one who got the teachers bus info for me the day before, came into the staff room and said "what are you doing here?" I informed her I was waiting for the bus. She said it left at 3:30pm.  at 3:30, only on Wednesdays.  A small detail she neglected to tell me before 3:30pm on a Wednesday. Taxi again.

Thursday I felt prepared and took a Transjakarta bus down the road to Ragunan.  The bus is 2,000Rp, runs constantly is nearly deserted in that direction at that hour and the stop is 2 minutes from my building.  My plan was to get an ojek from Ragunan thinking it would be cheaper from there. Of the five ojeks at the stand only one even vaguely knew where it was. He wanted 50,000Rp. I laughed and told him a taxi was cheaper than that. he waved me off so I got a taxi to work.  The meter was at 30,000Rp when he made a wrong turn.  He said "sorry, sorry, just 30,000Rp, ok?" 15 minutes later I made it to work,.  The meter was at 46,000Rp but I gave him 30. I hate it when you tell them where you want to go and they go "ya, ya, ya" and act like they know exactly where it is but they don't know where they're going.  I found an ojek here near my school to go home.  He wanted 50,000Rp as well.  I offered 20,000Rp, we agreed on 30,000Rp. The trip took about 25 minutes and was a straight shot.  I'll see how he feels about me today when I ask to go to the bus station.

Busway even has their own driving lane. Most stops are accessible by an overhead bridge. Courtesy of m.kompas.com

This morning I woke up at 05:30am.  At 05:45am the sky opened and it poured. My plan the night before was to try to catch an angkot, or transjakarta bus and then angkot. This method should cost between three and five thousand Rupiah in all. Opposite to what usually happens, the roads emptied and there were very few angkots or buses to be found.  Normally everyone jumps on transport since they don't want to be in the rain.  I waited with Carla for her taxi.  I still hadn't seen more than one agnkot when it arrived so I went with her.  We dropped her off and I carried on to school.  42,000Rp no toll which isn't bad considering the rain induced traffic on the school road.

Angkot! I need red #S15A. Courtesy of Lifeportraitsofme.blogspot.com

Taxis are a nice option because you have personal space and no pollution in your face (it rhymes, I could write commercials) but they get expensive and can be slow. Ojeks are quicker and sometimes cheaper but there is lots of gear required (helmet, rain clothes, anti-pollution mask).  Buses are usually packed and slow but cheap and out of the rain. I will be leaving school after I finish this.  The goal is to find out from the security staff if I can get an angkot to the KP bus station.  If I can I'll do that, if not I'll get an ojek there.  It should be about 7,000Rp there I'm told.  From there I can get an angkot that should take me to my street, a three or four minute walk from there and I'm home.  Keep your fingers crossed.  I'll let you know!