Bazaar No.1 done

Bugs in blogspot, can't organise the pics. Sorry. Top: Me behind my stall. Couldn't stand up straight, so figured peering from around the rack looked better than hunched over the table. All other photos: pics of my haul. Excepting the bear. The bear is kiddo's. She just felt it looked better with he new tutu on...

Today was the first bazaar of the Christmas season for me. Organised by the BWA (British Womens' association). It was held in the Grand Kemang Hotel. Lest anyone think I'm an insatiable bazaar hopper, I actually go to flog stuff for charity. This time it's the Panti Asuhan Pondok Taruna orphanage. With the thought of them needing 70kg of rice a day (costs about Rp500,000/ USD50 per day), I went there totally prepared to be the barracuda salesperson of the year. No taking 'no' for an answer! Everyone who pauses has to buy! Buy! Buy! I say!! Well, within an hour of arriving at the venue (6am for set up!! Ugh!), this barracuda became a minnow... I stupidly bent over to pick up a box forgetting that it was heavy and that I generally have a dinky back. No prizes for guessing what happened next... My back locked up big time, and I was left squirming around trying to pretend that I was looking for something inside the box when in actual fact I could neither fully straighten nor fully bend! I eventually plonked myself onto the sample bean bag I was selling since it allowed me to wriggle into a non excruciating position in order to unpack the offending box. No surprises that everything ended up on the edge of the table. It was as far as I could reach. An emergency call to my co-vendor, who luckily, was only due in later netted me a couple of lifesaving panadols. She was very apologetic about not having anything stronger, but at that point, I would've gratefully settled for anything, even a hammer to my toe as distraction from my back.

In any case, there was selling to be done and people to meet. I love doing the bazaars. Every time I do, I meet someone new, or an old customer. And you never know when you're going to meet a great friend. Like my co-vendor today, V. I met her at the last bazaar a few months back and we got to talking. Now she's a fab friend that I cannot imagine I've only known for a really short time. Even funnier, our girls both have the same name! And we both love crafting... Not to mention we're going on holiday together in 2 weeks and moving into the same apartment complex in 3 weeks. Before you suggest it, no, I'm NOT stalking her...

Well, if there's shopping to be had, I'm the one to call. I can ALWAYS find something to buy. Picked up some lovely little batik covered boxes for gifts, as well as some cutesy little things for the kid. Turns out it's lovely having a co-vendor because we can take turns shopping while the other person mans the stall. And V is as great a shopper as me, which is saying a lot...

All in all, it was go, go, go from the moment the doors opened. I've never been in a bazaar that has been this busy. Barely had time to shop for myself!! *wink* For the first time, I also won a raffle prize! I only know it's to some restaurant. The main thought flowing through my head when going up to get the prize was, 'Suck it in!! Walk upright! OWN the pain! Don't limp!'. Hilarious that as we were walking around the hall, V kept trying to carry my bag. Geesh...!

Back pain or no back pain. A preliminary accounting shows that the orphanage will get Rp1,750,000 (about USD175) from today. That's about 3 days worth of rice or 60 chickens. Rather pleased with that I have to say. Hopefully it's a sign of things to come for the next few events.

PS will post some photos when my back unlocks enough for me to focus my camera higher than my knees...

Kiddo's bedtime prayer tonight

'God Bless Daddy, Mummy and Me. Help me get better. Keep Daddy safe on his travels. God Bless Grandpa, Grandma, Ah Kong and Ah Ma. God Bless all the orphans. Let there be no tsunamis, earthquakes and volcanoes. Help me not whine, moan, cry, and tantrum. God bless all my new friends, old friends, and ab-so-lu-te-ly everyone. Help me sleep well and not wake up late for tomorrow's school trip to the zoo. Good night God. Amen.'

What can I say? A kid's environment certainly affects their thought processes. Much more so than one would imagine. I use prayer time as a guide to what the kid is thinking, and a spring board to talking about stuff. Ever since the recent spate of natural disasters have hit the local papers, she's been including tsunamis, earthquakes and volcanoes in her nightly prayers (Downside of a kid being able to read the back side of the paper while I'm reading the front).When I talk to her about it, I can tell she's concerned they will happen to us and people she knows. On one occasion, I remember having to sit down with her and the encyclopedia to work out how safe Jakarta, KL and Singapore were for the various friends and relatives she was worried about. And being here where poverty is so visible she has asked about the street children who beg at the car door. So has developed a slight obsession about orphans and their lack of parental love. Sigh... I guess if we were living in London she would pray about blizzards, gale force winds, tube delays and Indian summers.

Being an expat kid, she's had friends in KL, from her old school Tutor Time, and now in ACS. Not to mention the other expat kids that come and go. I can see how distressing that can be. I certainly do feel it when friends move away. The friendships tend to be rather like a summer romance, you know they're going to end right from the start, you make promises to keep in touch no matter what, and parting is wrenching. But once everyone's moved, it's only the occasional email or skype. Sometimes not even that. Thank God for blackberry messenger. These friendships tend to be quickly forged and quite intense, after all, no one really understands what an expat goes through other than another expat... She's also had to get used to Daddy traveling quite a lot. Now when she's had a scolding and says, 'I want to talk to Daddy!', Mummy has to do time zone as well as airline ETA computations. It's no longer just calling and having The Man furtively whisper that he's in a meeting and will call us back.

The moaning, whining bit... Well, that's totally my fault. because of my ear problem, anything above a certain frequency hits my brain like a laser beam and turns it into what feels like a cauldron of boiling lava with nails shooting into my ear drums. Her voice then echoes and reverberates in my skull, bouncing around and causing more churning of the lava and nails... Well, lava explodes, and so does mummy. That's generally when monster mummy makes a visit. My own yelling adds to the mix and I get even more steamed. Not nice for everyone... So every night, without fail, kiddo asks to not moan or whine. Depending on what's gone on at school, some times she adds in, 'help me to cheer not jeer (school lecture) and help me not mock or be smart alecky (heh heh)'

She throws in the 'help me get better' whether she's sick or not. Being an asthmatic and allergic-y kid, there have been times when she's on pills, syrups, puffers, sprays, creams for months on end. This is like a mantra for her. Can't sleep unless she says it. No matter, I don't imagine God would hold it against her...

All this is certainly a change from 2 years ago when her prayers were, 'God Bless Daddy, Mummy and Me. God Bless Grandpa, Grandma, Ah Kong and Ah Ma. God Bless Riesling, Cookie (our dogs), Baileys and Smokey (our cats). God Bless my friends. Help the woodpecker not eat all our fish...'

You say to-mah-to, I say to-may-to...

Everyone knows that Malaysia and Indonesia are neighbours and practically share an identical language (no, I am NOT getting into the politics of it). Even so, the differences make living here an incredible adventure... After many blank looks and 'uhhhh...'s I have had to change the way I speak bahasa. I know I'm improving because I don't get so many blank looks now... Also the multi-talented Mr.D is an incredible walking fount of all things Indonesian.

I thought I'd share some common things that tripped me up in my early days here in Jakarta. I get into lots of trouble because I tend to chat to everyone. As Hubs likes to say, I speak more to our staff in 5mins than he does in 2 months... Then again, he doesn't go much beyond, 'buat kopi, ya' (make coffee) and 'pulang rumah' (go home).

One of my hobbies is shopping. Not quite a shopaholic, but I loooovvveeee browsing. Jakarta is great because there is a mall for every walk of life selling anything and everything. My source of all things money related, ie The Man, once told me that he read somewhere that Jakarta has the most number of malls per capita than any other Asian country. There are close to 30mil people in Jakarta. That's more than the WHOLE of Malaysia. That's mind boggling... So, there I was, a newcomer to Jakarta, and I thought I'd pop into this store and get something for kiddo. The lovely shopgirl (they're ALL nice, All beautiful and actually know their job!) asked me if kiddo was a boy or a girl. Except she didn't say, 'laki atau perempuan?' like we do in KL. It was 'cewek atau cowok?' On seeing my blank stare, she then said, 'boy or girl Ibu?' I definitely know I'm not the only one who has had these encounters. Occasionally they will say 'putra' (prince) or 'puteri' (princess). That at least sounds better. Somehow 'cewek' and 'cowok' just sound to me like they're describing bodily functions of some sort. Ok, they've worked out it's for a girl, umur 5 (age 5). Then comes the 'rok' (skirt), 'celana' (trousers), kaos (shirt), 'blos' (blouse), dress (YES!! that's the same! But I think it's for my benefit. Haven't mustered the energy to ask what it is in BI yet) discussion. All I can say is I'm glad I generally shop when the stores first open at 10am as I usually get about 3 or 4 sales people around me and between us I have so far always been able to get what I want.

Oh and shoes are 'sepatu' not 'kasut'; fridges are 'kulkas' not 'peti sejuk'; rabbits are 'kelinci' not 'arnab'; frogs are 'kodok' not 'katak'; glue is 'lem'; carrots are 'wortel'; motocycles are 'motor', cars are 'mobil' not 'kereta', 'kereta' is short for 'kereta api' which is train. I remember Mr.D's predecessor insisting that there were no 'kereta' in our area when we were plainly stuck in the middle of a traffic jam... Which is 'macet' in BI.

The list goes on and on. My staff are great. If I say something weird, they just laugh and tell me the correct word to use. Latest discussion was on sentence fillers... I've worked out 'dong' and 'sih', but 'kok' (!!!!).... Sorry, I just don't think I will ever be able to just drop 'kok' into a sentence with a straight face.

Mr.D: A law unto himself

Since I wrote the last post, I thought I'd do one on Mr.D our driver. He's worked for us for 2 years, has 3 kids all 7 years apart and is genuinely a very nice guy. Just as a quick example, when the Ritz and Marriot bombs went off a few months ago, he had actually just dropped Hubs at work and was on his way back to the house. Upon hearing the news, he did an about turn and went straight back to the office calling Hubs to say he was waiting downstairs if Sir wanted to go home straightaway. Unfortunately Sir didn't. Sir also missed his plane back to KL that day leaving madam fuming! But that's another story...

So, yes, Mr.D, wonderful chap. But he has some really strange interpretations of traffic law. Most baffling is how he uses traffic lights. How difficult can that be? I hear you say. And 'he uses'? Must be a grammatical error, you say again. Under usual circumstances I would agree. I mean, red=stop, amber=stop asap (or go faster if you're Malaysian), green=go. Basic highway code. Not for Mr.D!! For him, traffic lights work like this... Red=Stop if it's convenient. But go if it's a jam, otherwise you'll never get a chance to go anyway. Go if there are no cars because there's no point stopping anyway. Oh, and it doesn't apply if you're turning left or if you're turning either direction while on a one way street. Amber=go. Green=go. In other words, go as and when you like. It used to have me at the edge of the seat yelling, 'Berhenti, berhenti!!' (Stop, stop). But now, after many months and much futility, I have decided that I shall just ignore it. He just laughs at me anyway.

The next thing is the whole flashy high-lights thing he does. If the car in front stops, he flashes the lights. If he thinks they should be going faster and aren't, he flashes. If they slow down, he flashes. If he's in a hurry and joins the back of a queue, he flashes. I tried counting how many times he flashed the head lights for one 10min journey. Lost count. Couldn't keep up. I have to say though, all the other drivers on the road do it too, so it's hard to say if it's just him or a Jakarta phenomenon. You have to get used to the 'chicka-chicka-chicka' sound pretty quickly though, or go crazy. At least it's not the horns....

All in all, despite his little foibles. We haven't any serious dings on the car. The Man put a couple on there, but they are NOT TO BE SPOKEN OF. Got hit by a golf ball while driving past the golf range, but one can hardly blame that on him. So... Carry on Jeeves, or in this case, Drive on Mr.D...

Day 1 without the man of the house

It's been roughly 24hrs since The Man left for his jaunt around the world. I'm already bored. Amazing how just having someone there to talk to can make life that little bit more interesting. Oh well, we knew his job would be like that, hence the lack of a proper job for me.

Had a rather interesting little experience today. There we were, happily driving down the road to school when all of a sudden, absolute standstill! There were news vans lining the road and police trucks and it seemed like a scene out of some action packed Hollywood action movie. I was just waiting for some suave guy in shades to come leaping over the stationary cars in pursuit of the scruffy looking baddie wielding a parang (parang of course, we're in Asia!!). Instead, all I could see were people standing around. And more people... and even MORE people. Where did they all come from?? Anyhow, we inched along untill, suddenly.... Absolutely no traffic going in our direction!! But being Jakarta, all the oncoming traffic decided that since no one was using our lane, they might as well! So there we were, to all intents and purposes going AGAINST the flow of traffic. I was stressing away going, 'Udah lewat dong!! Bagaimana nak sampai di sekolah dalam masa 10 minit!!' (It's already late! How're we going to get to school in 10mins'), when Mr.D our fabulous driver replied in his inimitable style, 'Ngak apa madam, bisa jalan di sini...' (Don't worry madam, we can go here), and promptly drove OFF THE ROAD!! HELLO!! We were OFF. THE. FREAKING. ROAD!!! Remember the non existent pavements I was talking about? Well, there's a reason you take your life in your hands if you try and walk on them, it's because everyone uses them as emergency lanes. Or convenience lanes, I should say. At least we arrived at school on time... And from now on, I will never ever try and walk on those death traps, ever again!!

Home alone

The man has just left on his 2 week Jakarta-London-New York-Jakarta business trip, leaving me alone with the kiddo. When we first got here, we tried to arrange it so that all his overseas business trips coincided with us going back to KL on holiday. At least then I was back in the bosom of my family and didn't have to worry about being alone in a strange country. Now however, we feel like seasoned expats. Kiddo and I both have our own programs and really, the crime rate in KL makes it such that I reckon it's safer to stay in Jakarta.

Just the other day I was commenting to my driver that KL has had many incidents of snatch thievery, some even leading to death. I wanted his opinion on why he thought it hardly happened in Jakarta (or we never hear of it anyway). According to him, many years ago it was a common thing. However Jakarta is pretty much riddled with kampungs and this holds true even in the expat residential areas. So with the local economy so dependent on the expats ie. maids, drivers, security guards, pool cleaners, gardeners (and on and on, the list is endless), the kampung folk could not risk having the expats driven away through crime. So they took it into their own hands to find and 'discipline' these riff raff. Troublemakers and petty thieves were turning up badly assaulted or worse, disappearing completely! Over time, these crimes stopped happening. Of course, he continued, if you venture out into gang controlled areas in the city then it might happen. So, I now follow a simple rule, before going anywhere new, I ask my driver. If it's iffy, he always tells me not to go or offers to go with me. Not that I've taken him up on that. Shopping with my driver in tow just seems a little weird to me.

The other reason it's so much safer here is that there are no pedestrian pavements to speak of. Short of risking your life playing dodge the motorbike/ bajaj/ car going the opposite direction, it's easier and safer to just be dropped at the doorstep of wherever you want to go. All these places have parking attendants that direct cars into postage stamp sized parking spaces. Thus you're never more than about 10 feet from someone for whom your continued well being is essential to their continued well being... So don't worry about us daddy, we'll stay well away from dodgy areas and crumbling sidewalks. See you again in 2 weeks... mwah!

Are you listening to me, Doctor??

I remember back in the days when I was in medical school, 'communication skills' were the big thing. How to speak to your patients to get the best information, how to ask open questions so you get answers that are the patients own and not what they think you want to hear... And on and on ad nauseum. Well, I have had cause to visit a fair few medical practitioners since I've stopped working and I have come to realize a few things... It's easy to speak to doctors who are trained like I was. They're the ones looking earnestly at you and saying things like,'...and how did you feel then?' or '...what else happened after that?'. Things changed when we got here to Jakarta. For one, the poor air quality meant kiddo's asthma and allergies and what have you all made a massive comeback. Not to mention the food poisoning etc etc... So forever at the doctors clinics mean wading through a lot of chaff to get to the wheat.

The first thing I noticed was that people in general are very laid back and smiley here. Same for the medical staff. It's not that your problem is unimportant, but that's the way they are. Some more so, some less so. But in general, going to see a doctor here is a little like walking into a spa. They speak in the same soothing voice, same smiley face... I've essentially had to come up with a way of giving them information so that they get the important bits, and not wait for the polite pauses before they ask about the next symptom. I'm always concerned that they will forget something in the time it takes for the consultation to end.

This is what I do... I tell them everything that has happened in sequence, what I've done, whether it's been effective and what's happening now. E.g. I've had a cough for 4 days and a fever for 2. The fever goes away with panadol every 6 hours but for the last day I have had green phlegm and my chest hurts when I breath. 10mins condensed down to 1min. I never tell them what I think the diagnosis is because a) I don't want to influence their thinking b) I'm interested in their diagnostic processes c) there's a reason doctors are advised not to treat themselves or people close to them... I was once so annoyed by hubs complaining about a couple of spots that I missed the fact he actually had shingles!

Another thing I've noticed is that all the competent doctors in Jakarta only practice during office hours. Off hours, it's dicey. I have yet to see a doctor, or hear about someone seeing a doctor off hours that has left me feeling anything other than nervous. On our first trip here, kiddo fell and split her head open. We went to SOS and the doctor on call (she looked younger than my 20 yr old cousin!) had to call someone to ask for advice on whether she should put stitches in. Also consulted ME on whether the skull XRay was ok! Um... anxious mom dealing with freaking out husband and kids here!!! In any case, kiddo left sporting 3 stitches in the back of her, thankfully, unbroken head. Lots of other stories on weird and wonderful diagnoses to cover for the fact that some on call guys really have NO idea what's wrong with you... And obviously can't even make up plausible stories. Others are just forgetful. My husband got a metal splinter and the fellow forgot to ask about tetanus status! I had to ring the practice manager from KL where I was on holiday, and she had to then call the clinic and get it sorted. What a hassle!

Well, I discovered a handful of doctors that I trust. Top of the list is Dr.Ade, a GP at Global Doctors. She's there all week but not weekends. Lovely lady. Very competent though does appear very laid back. Very good diagnostically. The regular GP at SOS was good too though I have to say that I 'bonded' with Dr. Ade much better. For kids, the selection is better. Dr. Isabella and Dr.Lineus at Jakarta Women and Children Clinic are pretty good. Though I have had some raised eyebrow moments. Nothing horrific. Dr.Isabelle (different lady to that at JWCC) at Global is also very sensible and nice.

The one paediatrician I wish was still in the area is Dr.Johannes. He's a paediatric pulmonologist (chest doctor) who used to be at JWCC and is now somewhere in Tangareng. Not much bedside manner to speak of. Very brusque and hurried (unlike his other local colleagues) but he sorted out kiddo's asthma and allergies within 6weeks. Hats off to him, wherever he is...

All in all, medical services in Jakarta are probably not as terrible as made out to be. But how on earth do non-medical people decide which doctors to see?

Of Tai-Tais, Mai tais and steroetypical misconceptions

A few years ago in London after a dinner accompanied by copious amounts of wine, a few girlfriends (1 lawyer, 1 journalist, 1 accountant) and I decided that the pinnacle of our existence would be becoming Tai Tais. A Tai Tai, for my non Chinese speaking friends out there, is essentially a lady of leisure. She is married, to a rich man who supports her in style, is always beautiful and glamorous, and never has to bother with the mundane issues of daily life. Sounded heavenly to overworked, underpaid twentysomethings...

Fast forward a good few years (don't ask, I'm not telling how many). I'm now an expat-wife, a mom, have no job, but have a maid AND a driver. On the surface it looks like I have indeed attained the lofty heights of Tai Tai-dom... Cocktail lunches... Spa mornings... Look closer and the cracks in that perfect facade start to show. First of all, living in Indonesia means being surrounded with the genuine article. Women who are always perfectly coiffed and made up. Who would never be seen dead in shorts and t shirts, and who appear to float over the top of life's little speed bumps. This, after all, is the land of the 6am hair appointments. Heaven forbid one should appear at a breakfast meeting without perfect hair. I, on the other hand, live in my shorts and tees, avoid the hairdresser like the plague, not to mention only having a passing acquaintance with my hair brush, and most definitely hit all the speed bumps in life at full throttle. I try to be like a duck at these times, calm on the surface while paddling furiously underneath. As for cocktail lunches, I have no idea how that became part of the stereotype for expat wives. I'm sure they exist, but unfortunately not in my little sphere. Thankfully, I have found other 'ducks' to hang out with. Occasionally if I'm out for lunch (always with kiddo), I may see some absolutely gorgeous specimens of womanhood gathering together. The Indonesian term for these groups is 'Arisan'. They get together at a set times in different happening places for a meal, pool a set amount of money with one winner at each function. The winner's name is then removed until everyone has won once. Very fair. Prizes can be money, jewelry... the sky's the limit.

Getting to spas. I have to admit they're not for me. I find it really difficult lying there for any length of time while a virtual stranger touches my naked body. Call it Asian prudery if you will, but even after 10 years of living in the UK and travelling around world, I still get the urge to giggle and blush if confronted with topless sun bathers. So, no. I shall stick to reflexology on the odd occasions that my husband manages to convince me that sitting next to each other getting our feet poked at can be considered a romantic couples outing. For those who are interested, Kenko in Kemang Selatan (outlets also in several major shopping centres though prices will be higher) gives a pretty good foot and body rub for about Rp60,000 (about USD6). Best of all, you get to keep your clothes on! The man of the house also swears by Bersih Sehat near Pasar Mayestik. Apparently some big, older Indonesian lady walks up and down your back. I can't for the life of me see how that can be nice, but there you go...

So.. going back to our group of 4... Married, tick. Rich men, um...., half tick? Beautiful and glamorous, maybe them, but the only beauty and glamor I'm acquainted with is Vogue magazine. Not having to deal with mundane issues, ha! Don't make me laugh... my whole life revolves around the mundane. What will the kid have for dinner? Hmm... rice/pasta, roast/steamed chicken, broccoli, egg. Again, and again, and yet again...

So, for now, let me just raise my low sugar winter melon in a box to all you Tai Tais out there...

The joys of Jakarta traffic

When we first moved to Jakarta 2 and a half years ago, I thought I was prepared for the traffic. I mean... traffic, schmaffic. I'd heard all the horror stories. Come on...I'm Malaysian! Who hasn't sat through an hour on the Federal Highway, or been caught in the forever changing 1 way systems in the centre of KL. Not to mention being stuck on the M25 and North Circular Road in London... Traffic! Ha! I laugh in the face of anything Jakarta could throw at me...

Well, you know what they say, pride goeth before a fall. After 3 hours of trying to get from the airport to town (not even to the house!), a crabby 4 year old in tow, I was ready to prostrate myself before the Gods of Jakarta traffic. It was unbelievable! True, there was rain, and it was also a Friday night, but rain in Jakarta is like roast beef and yorkshire pudding, or nasi lemak and fried anchovies, you can't really have one without the other. Of course, subject to times of year, you get more or less of the stuff... And Fridays, don't they come, something like, once every week? In any case, my first lesson of Jakarta traffic... If it rains, stay home. If it's rush hour (7-10am, 12-2pm, 4-7pm), stay home. Weekends, stay home. We've learnt, over time, how to 'guestimate' how long it will take us from Kemang to the airport in order to make the 1.5hr check in time. It's an art. The conversation between my honey and I goes something like that:

Hubs : Flight's at 2pm tomorrow. Check in at 1. Leave house 11.30. Lunch traffic...
Me : Siau! (Meaning crazy in a Chinese dialect) International check in is 2 hours!! Check in at 12. Normally takes 1 hour to get there, but lunch traffic, extra 30mins. Also Friday, extra 30mins. Starting to drizzle too... We leave at 930am!
Hubs : Nah... You're being over cautious... (Mind you, he's the one who's missed flights, not me)

Usually after a lot of wrangling he'll agree to leave at 10am. So far, we haven't missed any flights while travelling together. Incidentally, that first trip from the airport to our rented house in Kemang took 5 hours.

A little tip for those travelling with kids. Have a little bin lined with plastic in your car. Also supplies of old newspaper, wet wipes, tissues and hand sanitisers. I can't begin to count the number of times kiddo has needed the loo while stuck in the traffic. Short of opening the window and dangling her out over the poor, hapless motorcyclists, not to mention the insult to her dignity, this is honestly the most acceptable option.

Here's to dust bins!!