I changed my son's diaper for the first time tonight.
It had poop in it.
I'll be hiring a nanny next week.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Anger Management
When I first started travelling to southeast Asia, their world renowned hospitality won me over. When I brought my family, I found their deep appreciation of family and devotion to nurturing children very appealing. I've been here long enough now that I'm starting to experience things that annoy me.
Today we went to the mall to see if we could find Christmas decorations - we couldn't. We had our son in a stroller. The malls in Indonesia are large and multi-floor. Before the baby, we would use the escalators. Now, because escalators are not ideals modes of transport for a stroller, we prefer to use the elevators when they are available. This brings me to my first gripe. Nothing annoys me more than seeing able bodied people using services intended for the elderly, injured, or otherwise overly burdened. We waited three times for the only two available elevators only to find them packed with tweens and adults who were more than capable of taking the more readily available and accessible escalators. I honestly believe if these people could ride a mechanized vehicle instead of walk, they would. We ran into this in Singapore, too. Escalators - which are everywhere - are empty. Elevators are packed. I really think it comes down to laziness. One guy in Singapore, when we asked for directions from the subway station to Downtown East said it was too far to walk. I said, isn't it about 1.5 kilometers? He said it was, then said we must be from somewhere else because Singaporeans would not walk that far. Better to pay for a cab than walk a city block? Outrageous.
Finally, I'm starting to get really annoyed when I see men in their 50's and 60's with young, attractive, 20-something locals on their arms. In the US, this never really bothered me. The "attraction" is the same in both countries - his money, her looks. I think in the US I just felt that the women that did that were doing so out of laziness, greed, or low self-esteem. In my mind, if that was the life they wanted, that's their decision. They have plenty of other options available and just choose not to use them. Here, I feel like the expats are taking advantage of the local poverty. These men aren't millionaires like in the states. They are, predominantly, six-figure earners - not poor, but not rich, either. Here, it seems like the women are doing it because they don't feel like there are any other options available. Not enough jobs, not enough access to education, and they possess an asset that wealthy men want - looks and a figure those men could not attain in an industrialized nation. It's exploitative and sickening.
What can I do about it? Nothing, so I do nothing. Otherwise, I become the angry bule. That benefits no one.
Today we went to the mall to see if we could find Christmas decorations - we couldn't. We had our son in a stroller. The malls in Indonesia are large and multi-floor. Before the baby, we would use the escalators. Now, because escalators are not ideals modes of transport for a stroller, we prefer to use the elevators when they are available. This brings me to my first gripe. Nothing annoys me more than seeing able bodied people using services intended for the elderly, injured, or otherwise overly burdened. We waited three times for the only two available elevators only to find them packed with tweens and adults who were more than capable of taking the more readily available and accessible escalators. I honestly believe if these people could ride a mechanized vehicle instead of walk, they would. We ran into this in Singapore, too. Escalators - which are everywhere - are empty. Elevators are packed. I really think it comes down to laziness. One guy in Singapore, when we asked for directions from the subway station to Downtown East said it was too far to walk. I said, isn't it about 1.5 kilometers? He said it was, then said we must be from somewhere else because Singaporeans would not walk that far. Better to pay for a cab than walk a city block? Outrageous.
Unable to use the elevator, we had to move to the escalator - with a stroller, a young child, and bags of our shopping purchases. I'm following my wife, who was carrying our baby, and moving a little slow trying to push the stroller, hold my daughter's hand, and carry our purchases. I start to turn into the escalator, and these two women - a mother and daughter, cut in front of me and block my path, making my maneuver more difficult. I almost went off on them. The people in Singapore weren't much better boarding and exiting the subway. Pushing, shoving, and elbowing to be in front. So much for Asian hospitality. I think large, over-populated cities just become accustomed to rudeness.
While my wife and I shopped - for a new toaster and wrapping paper - we deposited our daughter and an Arts and Crafts section of a department store so she could have fun painting. We roamed around a bit and then came back to help her finish painting. That's when we noticed the music. Rap and R&B complete with sexually explicit lyrics and swearing! Of course, it was all in English so we were the only ones in the store who really knew how bad it was. Just amazing.
Finally, I'm starting to get really annoyed when I see men in their 50's and 60's with young, attractive, 20-something locals on their arms. In the US, this never really bothered me. The "attraction" is the same in both countries - his money, her looks. I think in the US I just felt that the women that did that were doing so out of laziness, greed, or low self-esteem. In my mind, if that was the life they wanted, that's their decision. They have plenty of other options available and just choose not to use them. Here, I feel like the expats are taking advantage of the local poverty. These men aren't millionaires like in the states. They are, predominantly, six-figure earners - not poor, but not rich, either. Here, it seems like the women are doing it because they don't feel like there are any other options available. Not enough jobs, not enough access to education, and they possess an asset that wealthy men want - looks and a figure those men could not attain in an industrialized nation. It's exploitative and sickening.
What can I do about it? Nothing, so I do nothing. Otherwise, I become the angry bule. That benefits no one.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Before I forget
I keep forgetting to mention this, and I need to do it before the topic is stale.
When we were in Singapore, I saw all sorts of bizarre things. From male taxi cab drivers in their 50's with a collection of Disney Princess characters on their dashboards to weird letters flashing at random times on the screens in the movie theaters. The one that I will likely always remember, and always talk about, was a help wanted sign at a small toy store. I don't remember the exact wording, but it was very close to the following:
WANTED: 20-25 year old, petite, attractive female to be sales clerk.
I guess Singapore doesn't have a local chapter of NOW or the ACLU. Maybe they were hoping more dads would shop there.
When we were in Singapore, I saw all sorts of bizarre things. From male taxi cab drivers in their 50's with a collection of Disney Princess characters on their dashboards to weird letters flashing at random times on the screens in the movie theaters. The one that I will likely always remember, and always talk about, was a help wanted sign at a small toy store. I don't remember the exact wording, but it was very close to the following:
WANTED: 20-25 year old, petite, attractive female to be sales clerk.
I guess Singapore doesn't have a local chapter of NOW or the ACLU. Maybe they were hoping more dads would shop there.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Bandung - A trip of contrasts
Bandung (Bahn - doong), West Java, Indonesia is a city just over 125 kilometers southeast of Jakarta. Indonesia's fourth largest metropolitan area, and the capital of West Java, Bandung boasts 7.2 million residents and a reputation as a shopping mecca.
Indonesia is a net exporter of textiles - clothing, shoes, purses, belts. All of the major brand names - Gap, Nike, Versace, Armani - have clothing factories in Indonesia, and most are in Bandung. Outlet malls in the US sell clothing rejected by the retail establishments for having a thread out of place, a slightly uneven cut, or some other barely noticeable blemish. Outlet malls in Bandung have items rejected by the factory's quality control, often for the same reasons. What this means for the consumer is an absence of tariffs, transport costs, and US wages. Armani jeans - made at the same factory as the jeans you'll find at high-end stores throughout the world without a loose thread - sell in Bandung for $10. Calvin Klein sweatshirts sell for $12. My wife found several dresses for her and for my daughter under $10 each.
As a large, metropolitan city, Bandung is lacking. Despite its size, it really lacks a nightlife, or any high-end restaurants. We stayed at a 5 star resort which, in Bandung, means the Holiday Inn. Bandung's streets are not as crowded, and they are also less clean. Bandung had the dreary feel of Batman's Metropolis, or Chester Gould's unnamed city in his dark comic Dick Tracy. I'm sure the rainy weather contributed to the overall sense of melancholy, though I'm not sure sunny skies would have helped much.
Saturday we left Jakarta around 8 AM and, after a quick detour back home to get my daughter's beloved blanket - "Dee Dee", we finally made it to Bandung around 10:30 and checked into our hotel. We shopped and ate at a few of the factory outlets and then did a quick visit to the Governor's office building, Gedung Sate.
On Sunday, we awoke early and my daughter and I went swimming in the ice torture pond the hotel referred to as their "pool". Even my daughter was ready to leave after just twenty minutes of shivering...I mean swimming. It turned out to be a cold start to a colder day.
After a buffet breakfast, we decided we would visit Kawa Putih, "White Spring", in the mountains south of Bandung. Kawa Putih is a sulfur spring created by the magma under the mountains surrounding Bandung. The other major, active volcano near Bandung is Tangkuban Perahu, which means "Capsized Boat" because it looks like a boat flipped over. There are hot springs and mud pools near that volcano. I thought Kawa Putih looked more interesting.
The drive to Kawa Putih was an experience of contrasts. While Bandung is a large, busy city with lots of cars, the mountain villages surrounding Bandung are exponentially poorer, with even greater degrees of beauty. The streets were still crowded, only this time cars mingled with bicycle taxis and horse-drawn carts.
The rolling mountain landscapes covered in rice, strawberry, and tea plantations are strikingly beautiful. The wild chaos of the jungle blends harmoniously with the cultivated civilization in a beautiful tapestry of green and glimmering water. Each turn of the road elicited gasps of wonder as they revealed hidden visual splendor.
When finally we reached Kawa Putih, and paid the $1 per person entrance fee, the rain and wind were causing us to second guess our decision to visit. The moment I opened the umbrella, the wind turned it inside out, which the locals found quite humorous. I didn't spend two hours in a car to let a little rain stop me, so, when the rain let up a little, all but my mother-in-law and new baby ventured down the short path to Kawa Putih. It did not disappoint. Though clouds obscured much of its size, what we could see was spectacular. A beautifully pristine white lake, with green accents, Kawa Putih emits a light mist that gives it a mystical, magical quality unlike any place I have seen.
I got the impression they don't see a lot of Bule in Bandung and the surrounding area because several people kept asking me to stop and take pictures with them. I think I'll start calling them the Bule Paparazzi. The cold rain, biting wind, and cool temperatures were not conducive to the short sleeves and shorts we had all worn, so we did not follow one of the many trails around the lake. Low visibility made it a bad idea, too.
Though my wife wants to return to Bandung to spend more time at the outlets, I don't have any interest in returning. I do want to see more of Indonesia, however. We'll be visiting Yogyakarta, a city in the southern part of the island that has a National Heritage Foundation site (Borobudur, the worlds' largest Buddhist temple), when my father-in-law visits in January. I'm tempted to visit Krakatoa, the worlds most dangerous active volcano, but Dangerous and Volcano are a two-word combination I try to avoid. Maybe we will visit Bogor, which has the national Botanical Garden and is just an hour outside Jakarta in the next two weeks when my sister and father come for a visit.
Indonesia is a net exporter of textiles - clothing, shoes, purses, belts. All of the major brand names - Gap, Nike, Versace, Armani - have clothing factories in Indonesia, and most are in Bandung. Outlet malls in the US sell clothing rejected by the retail establishments for having a thread out of place, a slightly uneven cut, or some other barely noticeable blemish. Outlet malls in Bandung have items rejected by the factory's quality control, often for the same reasons. What this means for the consumer is an absence of tariffs, transport costs, and US wages. Armani jeans - made at the same factory as the jeans you'll find at high-end stores throughout the world without a loose thread - sell in Bandung for $10. Calvin Klein sweatshirts sell for $12. My wife found several dresses for her and for my daughter under $10 each.
As a large, metropolitan city, Bandung is lacking. Despite its size, it really lacks a nightlife, or any high-end restaurants. We stayed at a 5 star resort which, in Bandung, means the Holiday Inn. Bandung's streets are not as crowded, and they are also less clean. Bandung had the dreary feel of Batman's Metropolis, or Chester Gould's unnamed city in his dark comic Dick Tracy. I'm sure the rainy weather contributed to the overall sense of melancholy, though I'm not sure sunny skies would have helped much.
Saturday we left Jakarta around 8 AM and, after a quick detour back home to get my daughter's beloved blanket - "Dee Dee", we finally made it to Bandung around 10:30 and checked into our hotel. We shopped and ate at a few of the factory outlets and then did a quick visit to the Governor's office building, Gedung Sate.
On Sunday, we awoke early and my daughter and I went swimming in the ice torture pond the hotel referred to as their "pool". Even my daughter was ready to leave after just twenty minutes of shivering...I mean swimming. It turned out to be a cold start to a colder day.
After a buffet breakfast, we decided we would visit Kawa Putih, "White Spring", in the mountains south of Bandung. Kawa Putih is a sulfur spring created by the magma under the mountains surrounding Bandung. The other major, active volcano near Bandung is Tangkuban Perahu, which means "Capsized Boat" because it looks like a boat flipped over. There are hot springs and mud pools near that volcano. I thought Kawa Putih looked more interesting.
The drive to Kawa Putih was an experience of contrasts. While Bandung is a large, busy city with lots of cars, the mountain villages surrounding Bandung are exponentially poorer, with even greater degrees of beauty. The streets were still crowded, only this time cars mingled with bicycle taxis and horse-drawn carts.
The rolling mountain landscapes covered in rice, strawberry, and tea plantations are strikingly beautiful. The wild chaos of the jungle blends harmoniously with the cultivated civilization in a beautiful tapestry of green and glimmering water. Each turn of the road elicited gasps of wonder as they revealed hidden visual splendor.
When finally we reached Kawa Putih, and paid the $1 per person entrance fee, the rain and wind were causing us to second guess our decision to visit. The moment I opened the umbrella, the wind turned it inside out, which the locals found quite humorous. I didn't spend two hours in a car to let a little rain stop me, so, when the rain let up a little, all but my mother-in-law and new baby ventured down the short path to Kawa Putih. It did not disappoint. Though clouds obscured much of its size, what we could see was spectacular. A beautifully pristine white lake, with green accents, Kawa Putih emits a light mist that gives it a mystical, magical quality unlike any place I have seen.
I got the impression they don't see a lot of Bule in Bandung and the surrounding area because several people kept asking me to stop and take pictures with them. I think I'll start calling them the Bule Paparazzi. The cold rain, biting wind, and cool temperatures were not conducive to the short sleeves and shorts we had all worn, so we did not follow one of the many trails around the lake. Low visibility made it a bad idea, too.
Though my wife wants to return to Bandung to spend more time at the outlets, I don't have any interest in returning. I do want to see more of Indonesia, however. We'll be visiting Yogyakarta, a city in the southern part of the island that has a National Heritage Foundation site (Borobudur, the worlds' largest Buddhist temple), when my father-in-law visits in January. I'm tempted to visit Krakatoa, the worlds most dangerous active volcano, but Dangerous and Volcano are a two-word combination I try to avoid. Maybe we will visit Bogor, which has the national Botanical Garden and is just an hour outside Jakarta in the next two weeks when my sister and father come for a visit.
Playing Chicken with Food
Friday night our new CFO had a gathering at his house for all management in Jakarta. My wife and I attended and were having a good time mingling with my coworkers and their spouses. Whenever I am invited to such an event, I make a point to inform my host or hostess of my food allergies. I never want to be the drama of the party (that's my sister's job...oooh, burn!), so I do my best to avoid anything that is even suspect. Often, this means eating like a vegan.
As usual, we did the song and dance routine of visiting each dish and understanding what is in it. This was a catered event, so we had to ask the vendor what was in the dish. They didn't really speak English. So, we had some of our Indonesian colleagues do the asking. As expected, the soup was off limits, as was the salmon and other seafood entrees. That left me with salad and pasta.
The lasagna was delicious. I wanted to try some of the other pasta dishes - macaroni, stromboli, etc. I confirmed with the server one last time what the dishes were, what was in them, and even confirmed "vegetarian"? Then I sat down to eat. When I ate their "macaroni", I swallowed some meat, and that surprised me. I dug through the cheese and noodles some more to see if I could find more meat. When I did, it looked like chicken. I was hoping it was cheese, so I had my wife taste it. Nope, it was chicken. I ate more chicken on Friday night - about the size of an almond - than I've eaten combined in the last 7 years.
Having had one of these allergy emergencies before, I know the routine and come prepared. Our hostess also had the requisite Benadryl, so I took 100mg and stayed as long as I could to enjoy the party. When I felt the drowsiness of Benadryl kick in, we left.
Two lingering thoughts after this episode:
1) I never did feel a reaction to the chicken. Usually I feel it within minutes. So, either it wasn't really chicken, I'm not allergic to chicken anymore (at least the kind here that aren't full of supplements), or I responded fast enough with the medicine to avoid any reaction. I didn't have the lingering effects the next day I normally do, so I'm really baffled by this.
2) From now on, I need to talk to the cook. I don't think the people serving the food had any idea what was in it. They knew the name, and they knew how to use a spoon, but not much else.
As usual, we did the song and dance routine of visiting each dish and understanding what is in it. This was a catered event, so we had to ask the vendor what was in the dish. They didn't really speak English. So, we had some of our Indonesian colleagues do the asking. As expected, the soup was off limits, as was the salmon and other seafood entrees. That left me with salad and pasta.
The lasagna was delicious. I wanted to try some of the other pasta dishes - macaroni, stromboli, etc. I confirmed with the server one last time what the dishes were, what was in them, and even confirmed "vegetarian"? Then I sat down to eat. When I ate their "macaroni", I swallowed some meat, and that surprised me. I dug through the cheese and noodles some more to see if I could find more meat. When I did, it looked like chicken. I was hoping it was cheese, so I had my wife taste it. Nope, it was chicken. I ate more chicken on Friday night - about the size of an almond - than I've eaten combined in the last 7 years.
Having had one of these allergy emergencies before, I know the routine and come prepared. Our hostess also had the requisite Benadryl, so I took 100mg and stayed as long as I could to enjoy the party. When I felt the drowsiness of Benadryl kick in, we left.
Two lingering thoughts after this episode:
1) I never did feel a reaction to the chicken. Usually I feel it within minutes. So, either it wasn't really chicken, I'm not allergic to chicken anymore (at least the kind here that aren't full of supplements), or I responded fast enough with the medicine to avoid any reaction. I didn't have the lingering effects the next day I normally do, so I'm really baffled by this.
2) From now on, I need to talk to the cook. I don't think the people serving the food had any idea what was in it. They knew the name, and they knew how to use a spoon, but not much else.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Yesternight
So, I can't read my blog, but I can post to it via email. I'm going to try and keep posting to it.
The below is another story inspired by my daughter. She has started using the word "yesternight" for things that happened in the past, but at night.
Yesternight --
My story is outrageous, and just a little bit absurd
Most likely more outlandish than any other you have heard
It's worth the time to hear it, so if you don't easily fright
I really want to tell you, the story of Yesternight
We had all just finished dinner, the day was coming to an end
Father had a game to watch and mom had shirts to mend
I was in my playroom, playing with my toys
When dad stood up to cheer his team and made an awful noise
I startled from his shouting, and fell back in my chair
Legs stretched out before me, arms flapping in the air
That's when I saw it falling, from the table to the floor
The juice I had been drinking, was in its cup no more
My juice was spilling everywhere, my mom would be mad at me
Then the juice just disappeared and became a tiny tree
I could not beleive my eyes, I'd never seen such a thing before
Was I really looking at a tree that grew up from the floor?
The tree had leaves of silver and gold; the trunk was made of stone
When I saw a window, then a door, I knew this was someone's home!
This wasn't a tree at all, it was a house that looked like a tree
And a house must have an owner. I wondered who, or what, it could be
The door opened slowly, a tiny head looked all around
I held my breath and stood real still, trying not to make a sound
Then it looked right at me! Looked right into my eyes!
I tried to turn my head away but I was mesmerized
In a flash it flew up in the air and whispered in my ear:
"Excuse me, but, do you know how we got here?"
I tried to give an answer, but none popped in my head
"Who and what are you?", is what I blurted out instead
"I am a fairy", she replied, "my friends all call me Fern."
She also had two brothers, I would later learn
The short one she called "Longwell", the tall one she called "Squat"
She said the names didn't make much sense, but they're the names they've got
They were practicing their magic, and the house had filled with smoke
The smell had put them all to sleep, and they were here when they awoke
She asked "Are you a wizard? Do you have us under a spell?"
"No, I'm just a kid", I said, wishing there was more to tell.
"Your tree appeared in my room after I spilled my drink."
"That is strange", she replied, not knowing what to think.
"How we got here's not important, I must know how we can return.
To do that I will need some frog's breath I can burn."
"That will create a smoke, that I can capture in this flask
and when I add to that a newt's tear drop, it will show me the way back."
She asked if I would help her. I said "Sure, but how?"
"I need a frog", she said "I'm all out of frog's breath right now."
I knew where we could find a frog and said "Quick! Come with me."
She rushed inside to get the tools she felt that she would need.
She climbed into my pocket and we quietly went outside
I walked over to the pond I knew had frogs inside
Fern flew out from my pocket and began to search the ground
When suddenly I heard a noise and I quickly spun around
The noise was Tate our neighbor's cat, on his nightly prowl
He had seen Fern flying and his stomach began to growl
I tried calling out to Fern, to warn her about Tate
But he already had her in his sights, I had noticed him too late
With an exicted MEOW! Tate leapt in the air, reaching for his catch
Fern was faster than he thought. He missed, and landed with a SPLASH!
Tate didn't like the water, and began to thrash about
And all of his commotion made the frogs come rushing out
Fern saw a frog and came rushing down, landing on its back
Startled, it let out a gasp, which she captured in her flask
With a tiny match, she lit the breath, and when it turned to smoke
She added in just one newt's tear, then these words she spoke:
"Breath of frog and tear of newt, please show me the way.
I want to be back in my land before the night is day."
She watched the smoke intently, her furrowed brow forming a dimple
When at last she had the answer, she said "Can it really be that simple?"
She smiled at me and said out loud "This is easy to do!
But I can't do it by myself, you'll have to do it to."
We rushed back to my playroom, and pushed aside my blocks
Then Fern rushed about the room, turning back all the clocks
"We need to set the time back, to when we first appeared
Then turn the house three times, stopping when its front becomes its rear."
I understood my mission, what I was tasked to do
The house was much too large for Fern, I'd have to turn it too
Longwell, Squat, Fern and I pushed with all our might
The house just would not move - like a screw that's screwed too tight
"Let's try the other way", I offered, pulling with a GRUNT!
The house moved easily this time, and we stopped when back was front
Longwell, the house, Fern and Squat, disappered in a flash of light
That's how my story ends. And it all just happened, Yesternight.
The below is another story inspired by my daughter. She has started using the word "yesternight" for things that happened in the past, but at night.
Yesternight --
My story is outrageous, and just a little bit absurd
Most likely more outlandish than any other you have heard
It's worth the time to hear it, so if you don't easily fright
I really want to tell you, the story of Yesternight
We had all just finished dinner, the day was coming to an end
Father had a game to watch and mom had shirts to mend
I was in my playroom, playing with my toys
When dad stood up to cheer his team and made an awful noise
I startled from his shouting, and fell back in my chair
Legs stretched out before me, arms flapping in the air
That's when I saw it falling, from the table to the floor
The juice I had been drinking, was in its cup no more
My juice was spilling everywhere, my mom would be mad at me
Then the juice just disappeared and became a tiny tree
I could not beleive my eyes, I'd never seen such a thing before
Was I really looking at a tree that grew up from the floor?
The tree had leaves of silver and gold; the trunk was made of stone
When I saw a window, then a door, I knew this was someone's home!
This wasn't a tree at all, it was a house that looked like a tree
And a house must have an owner. I wondered who, or what, it could be
The door opened slowly, a tiny head looked all around
I held my breath and stood real still, trying not to make a sound
Then it looked right at me! Looked right into my eyes!
I tried to turn my head away but I was mesmerized
In a flash it flew up in the air and whispered in my ear:
"Excuse me, but, do you know how we got here?"
I tried to give an answer, but none popped in my head
"Who and what are you?", is what I blurted out instead
"I am a fairy", she replied, "my friends all call me Fern."
She also had two brothers, I would later learn
The short one she called "Longwell", the tall one she called "Squat"
She said the names didn't make much sense, but they're the names they've got
They were practicing their magic, and the house had filled with smoke
The smell had put them all to sleep, and they were here when they awoke
She asked "Are you a wizard? Do you have us under a spell?"
"No, I'm just a kid", I said, wishing there was more to tell.
"Your tree appeared in my room after I spilled my drink."
"That is strange", she replied, not knowing what to think.
"How we got here's not important, I must know how we can return.
To do that I will need some frog's breath I can burn."
"That will create a smoke, that I can capture in this flask
and when I add to that a newt's tear drop, it will show me the way back."
She asked if I would help her. I said "Sure, but how?"
"I need a frog", she said "I'm all out of frog's breath right now."
I knew where we could find a frog and said "Quick! Come with me."
She rushed inside to get the tools she felt that she would need.
She climbed into my pocket and we quietly went outside
I walked over to the pond I knew had frogs inside
Fern flew out from my pocket and began to search the ground
When suddenly I heard a noise and I quickly spun around
The noise was Tate our neighbor's cat, on his nightly prowl
He had seen Fern flying and his stomach began to growl
I tried calling out to Fern, to warn her about Tate
But he already had her in his sights, I had noticed him too late
With an exicted MEOW! Tate leapt in the air, reaching for his catch
Fern was faster than he thought. He missed, and landed with a SPLASH!
Tate didn't like the water, and began to thrash about
And all of his commotion made the frogs come rushing out
Fern saw a frog and came rushing down, landing on its back
Startled, it let out a gasp, which she captured in her flask
With a tiny match, she lit the breath, and when it turned to smoke
She added in just one newt's tear, then these words she spoke:
"Breath of frog and tear of newt, please show me the way.
I want to be back in my land before the night is day."
She watched the smoke intently, her furrowed brow forming a dimple
When at last she had the answer, she said "Can it really be that simple?"
She smiled at me and said out loud "This is easy to do!
But I can't do it by myself, you'll have to do it to."
We rushed back to my playroom, and pushed aside my blocks
Then Fern rushed about the room, turning back all the clocks
"We need to set the time back, to when we first appeared
Then turn the house three times, stopping when its front becomes its rear."
I understood my mission, what I was tasked to do
The house was much too large for Fern, I'd have to turn it too
Longwell, Squat, Fern and I pushed with all our might
The house just would not move - like a screw that's screwed too tight
"Let's try the other way", I offered, pulling with a GRUNT!
The house moved easily this time, and we stopped when back was front
Longwell, the house, Fern and Squat, disappered in a flash of light
That's how my story ends. And it all just happened, Yesternight.
I can't get to my blog
I am unable to get my blog to load here in Indonesia. I have the ability to post to it by sending it an email. Please send me an email if you see this posting. I think Indonesia may have blocked access to blogspot.com.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Feeling Fine
Antibiotics have done their duty. Within a few hours of taking the pills, my fever was gone for good. Two days later, I have my energy back. Still have stomach cramps, but they don't collapse me to the ground like they did when it was at its worst.
With my new found health, we made the obligatory trip to Taman Safari zoo. This is always a full-day affair if we go on a weekend. Two hours to get there, four hours to get back. Part of the traffic issue is the fact that the make the only road two and from Puncak, where the zoo is, one direction. Up from 1 until 4, down from 4 until 7. If we try to leave before 4, we're stuck in standstill traffic until they reverse the direction. I brought three movies with us this time in anticipation. Worked out okay.
My mother-in-law wanted to return to Puncak Pass, like we did on her first trip. We had fond memories of our first visit. The same cannot be said of this visit. We went there for lunch. Everyone ordered, everyone got their drinks, everyone but me got their food. Knowing that they often bring food when it is ready, not when the whole table is ready, I told people to eat as the food came out. Mine still had not arrived when everyone else had finished. I asked the staff where mine was, and they had forgotten to order it. I told them to forget it, settled the bill, and we left. I won't go back. It wasn't that great to begin with, and that's just not a mistake a restaurant should ever make if it wants to retain customers.
Taman Safari was fun as always. In addition to the carrots we usually buy, we stopped to buy some oranges for the elephants and the wild monkeys, which are not actually part of the zoo but go there for the easy food. As you can see in the pictures below, I made some new friends, and my daughter had fun as always.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Indonesia....you give me fever
Spent 6 hours in the ER today. I woke up with a temperature of 39.6 (103.1). They ran blood and stool tests and gave me three IV's. They were not able to reduce my fever below 38.1 (100.5). I've had a fever over 37.7 (100) for three straight days. It's difficult to stay awake, move, etc.
The test results indicated I have a bacterial infection. Doctors have given me antibiotics. I have until Saturday to break the fever or they want me to go back again. 1000mg of Tylenol isn't cutting it.
A few things I have learned:
1) Fevers from 37.7 - 38.8 give you teeth chattering chills.
2) Fevers over 38.8 make you sweat like you are in a sauna
3) Phlebotimists here must not get proper training. She pricked my vein to draw blood and attach the IV and my blood dripped all down my hand and onto the sheets. I did not like her after that.
4) Bacteria suck.
The test results indicated I have a bacterial infection. Doctors have given me antibiotics. I have until Saturday to break the fever or they want me to go back again. 1000mg of Tylenol isn't cutting it.
A few things I have learned:
1) Fevers from 37.7 - 38.8 give you teeth chattering chills.
2) Fevers over 38.8 make you sweat like you are in a sauna
3) Phlebotimists here must not get proper training. She pricked my vein to draw blood and attach the IV and my blood dripped all down my hand and onto the sheets. I did not like her after that.
4) Bacteria suck.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
I have a fever
I woke at 3 AM shivering with cold. I wrote it off to being directly under the air conditioning, and just bundled up. When my alarm woke me at 5 AM, I was still cold, and now I had a stomach ache. I decided to go to work anyway.
At work, I took Tylenol every 4 hours - which is about the cycle of chills I was having - and felt fine while the medicine worked. At 3:30, when it was time to take it again, I decided not to. I went to my physical therapist for a cyatic nerve issue, and was absolutely freezing. She said my body was hot to the touch and that I probably had a fever. After the session, I went to our medical clinic.
Diagnosis: unknown, but NOT H1N1. Fever was 102.3. No other symptoms - respiratory, nasal, stomach, etc. Just the fever. So, they told me to go home and stay home for 3 days and wait. If I get new symptoms, I have to go back. If the fever is still around after 3 days, I have to go back.
Last night, I fell asleep after dinner around 7:30 and woke at 9 AM this morning. Fever was gone, but is back - much lower - this afternoon. I'm able to keep it down with medicine, and I no longer have chills, just heat. I think I'll be better by Friday.
I'm disappointed because I finally just got back to work. This is really annoying.
At work, I took Tylenol every 4 hours - which is about the cycle of chills I was having - and felt fine while the medicine worked. At 3:30, when it was time to take it again, I decided not to. I went to my physical therapist for a cyatic nerve issue, and was absolutely freezing. She said my body was hot to the touch and that I probably had a fever. After the session, I went to our medical clinic.
Diagnosis: unknown, but NOT H1N1. Fever was 102.3. No other symptoms - respiratory, nasal, stomach, etc. Just the fever. So, they told me to go home and stay home for 3 days and wait. If I get new symptoms, I have to go back. If the fever is still around after 3 days, I have to go back.
Last night, I fell asleep after dinner around 7:30 and woke at 9 AM this morning. Fever was gone, but is back - much lower - this afternoon. I'm able to keep it down with medicine, and I no longer have chills, just heat. I think I'll be better by Friday.
I'm disappointed because I finally just got back to work. This is really annoying.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Colic is as colic does
We are now all back in Jakarta. It's good to have the full family home again. I was really starting to feel like a ping-pong ball going back and forth from Singapore to Jakarta. Singapore always made me feel too distant from work, too, and there is too much work to be done for me to have that feeling.
Our first night in Jakarta, our son demonstrated that at the ripe age of 18 days, he has graduated to the next level of infant development, at least in our household: Colic. Our daughter was a colic baby, and so is our son. Apparently, we produce babies with colic. I don't remember how long she had colic. I do remember it was torturous. To the extent that someone actually said "I now understand why some people smother their babies". Colic is bad.
He also has the "seizures" that our daughter did. For some reason, his entire body goes stiff, as if every muscle in his body flexes at once. When they relax, he picks up an excruciating scream that makes the hair on your neck stand up. Our daughter did the same thing as an infant and grew out of it.
Our first night in Jakarta, our son demonstrated that at the ripe age of 18 days, he has graduated to the next level of infant development, at least in our household: Colic. Our daughter was a colic baby, and so is our son. Apparently, we produce babies with colic. I don't remember how long she had colic. I do remember it was torturous. To the extent that someone actually said "I now understand why some people smother their babies". Colic is bad.
He also has the "seizures" that our daughter did. For some reason, his entire body goes stiff, as if every muscle in his body flexes at once. When they relax, he picks up an excruciating scream that makes the hair on your neck stand up. Our daughter did the same thing as an infant and grew out of it.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Turkish Ice Cream
Turkish ice cream is sticky like taffy, though still cool. You can lick it, but it is easier to eat if you bite it off the cone and then let it melt in your mouth.
The $3 per cone cost is more for the show than for the ice cream itself.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Pictures
These are of our daughter having fun at the pool with her uncle.
Someone should be in charge, might as well be her.
Baby pictures:
Someone should be in charge, might as well be her.
Baby pictures:
Back story on this picture. Before we left the apartment, my daughter made a list of things she wanted to buy when we went out. I told her to bring the coins from her ears if she wanted to buy something. Waiting for the bus, she was distracted by the kid's rides behind us. The picture below is our conversation on the cost of going on the ride and what that means she cannot buy when we make it to our destination. Ultimately, she decided to go on the $1 ride, instead of the $2 ride so she still had money for the mall.
A Tangent
I like to write. If you've read my blog for any length of time, that should be obvious. If it isn't, maybe it's time to discuss the warning signs of dementia with your doctor.
Certain mediums lend themselves to writing - books, letters, blogs. Other medium, well, not so much. The key problem with communicating through writing is that so much of our language is physical - our facial expressions, the way we stand, hand animations; or aural - voice fluctuations, intonation, volume. While possible to convey the non-verbal cues through writing, doing so requires more verbosity than simply expressing your thought.
For example, "You look nice today". How do I mean that?
1) "You look nice today", he said, tilting his head back and giving her elevator eyes, the kind that start at the bottom and work their way up, stopping on every floor.
2) "You look nice today", he snickered, shielding his eyes from her bright yellow shirt.
3) "You look nice today", he said, smiling brightly as he handed her the invoice he needed approved.
4) "You look nice today", he exclaimed, whistling and standing to admire her new hair cut.
See what I mean? But who has time to read all of that, much less type it? Conventional wisdom with emails recommends keeping them concise and to the point. "The project is on schedule." It's like we're in Dragnet: "Just the facts."
I remember an email I sent early in my career to a client who responded to me with pure venom. It wasn't her fault, really. I blame the geniuses in our marketing department who decided to brand our system with the creative use of an exclamation point. So when I responded to her inquiry with "You can find that on OurSystem!", and then explained how, she thought I was yelling at her from condescension, instead of helping her. I didn't use the exclamation point in any future communications about our product.
Social media sites only exacerbate the problem by limiting your character count. Facebook - 264 characters. Twitter - 164. It's difficult to say anything meaningful with so few characters. This sentence alone requires over fifty characters. Most of the time, people end up trying too hard to be witty and compelling in their conciseness and fail miserably. Text messaging and Instant messaging aren't much better. Avid users of these medium have gotten creative - necessity does breed invention, after all - and developed "emoticons". While smiley and dopey are easy to represent - :-) and :-b - sarcasm isn't. Innuendo isn't. Probably a good thing that lust isn't, either.
My point? I once read a satirical rant from a man directed to all women that contained a line that I think accurately reflects what I'm trying to convey:
"If we say something to you and there are two ways to take it, and one of them makes you mad, and the other one makes you smile, we mean the one that makes you smile."
Life is complicated enough without having to explain what our "definition of 'is', is". Besides, your little outbursts reflect more on you than on your target.
Can't we all just get along?
Certain mediums lend themselves to writing - books, letters, blogs. Other medium, well, not so much. The key problem with communicating through writing is that so much of our language is physical - our facial expressions, the way we stand, hand animations; or aural - voice fluctuations, intonation, volume. While possible to convey the non-verbal cues through writing, doing so requires more verbosity than simply expressing your thought.
For example, "You look nice today". How do I mean that?
1) "You look nice today", he said, tilting his head back and giving her elevator eyes, the kind that start at the bottom and work their way up, stopping on every floor.
2) "You look nice today", he snickered, shielding his eyes from her bright yellow shirt.
3) "You look nice today", he said, smiling brightly as he handed her the invoice he needed approved.
4) "You look nice today", he exclaimed, whistling and standing to admire her new hair cut.
See what I mean? But who has time to read all of that, much less type it? Conventional wisdom with emails recommends keeping them concise and to the point. "The project is on schedule." It's like we're in Dragnet: "Just the facts."
I remember an email I sent early in my career to a client who responded to me with pure venom. It wasn't her fault, really. I blame the geniuses in our marketing department who decided to brand our system with the creative use of an exclamation point. So when I responded to her inquiry with "You can find that on OurSystem!", and then explained how, she thought I was yelling at her from condescension, instead of helping her. I didn't use the exclamation point in any future communications about our product.
Social media sites only exacerbate the problem by limiting your character count. Facebook - 264 characters. Twitter - 164. It's difficult to say anything meaningful with so few characters. This sentence alone requires over fifty characters. Most of the time, people end up trying too hard to be witty and compelling in their conciseness and fail miserably. Text messaging and Instant messaging aren't much better. Avid users of these medium have gotten creative - necessity does breed invention, after all - and developed "emoticons". While smiley and dopey are easy to represent - :-) and :-b - sarcasm isn't. Innuendo isn't. Probably a good thing that lust isn't, either.
My point? I once read a satirical rant from a man directed to all women that contained a line that I think accurately reflects what I'm trying to convey:
"If we say something to you and there are two ways to take it, and one of them makes you mad, and the other one makes you smile, we mean the one that makes you smile."
Life is complicated enough without having to explain what our "definition of 'is', is". Besides, your little outbursts reflect more on you than on your target.
Can't we all just get along?
Friday, November 6, 2009
The birth of a child - unabridged
We cannot control time. It will always plod forward at the same pace - though relative speed will vary. Though we cannot control time, we can control timing, and timing is everything....except maybe in Real Estate, where location trumps timing, but it's still pretty good in Real Estate, too. Just ask anyone who bought a house in 2006!
For the birth of our son, the timing of his arrival held many things in suspense. My in-laws return to the US on 26 November, and we want them to see Jakarta. Per the US Embassy website, obtaining a passport takes 10-12 days. Obtaining a Indonesian visa, I know from experience, will require 3-4 days. We will need 2-3 days in the hospital before we can go to the Embassy, assuming they have an appointment available. I was also scheduled to return to work on 02 November, and needed to be present at the Embassy when applying for the passport.
Taking all of the above into consideration, when we met with the doctor on 12 October, she asked if we wanted to induce at our appointment on 19 October. We told her we would think about it.
My wife and I went back and forth. I saw the merits of the decision to induce. She didn't want to force the issue. She was hoping to let things happen naturally. She said it felt like we were "playing God". (Brian 1:3) Thus, I said unto her: "The decision is thine. Do with it as thy will."
Ultimately, we did not induce on the 19th. My wife wanted to know that status of her cervix before making the decision, and the cervix looked ready. Our doctor said if she changed her mind, we could schedule for the next day (Tuesday) or on Thursday. She didn't deliver babies on Wednesday (which made us wonder what magical power she possessed enabling her to prevent births from occurring on Wednesday's - we later found out she was at a different hospital on that day).
By the Tuesday, our son was no closer to arriving, and all our tricks didn't work - scary movie, spicy food, marital relations. I offered to try them again, especially the last one, but that was a non-starter. Tuesday afternoon, we called the doctor and scheduled the induction.
On 22 October, we arrived at the hospital at 8 AM. My wife took her position on the bed, and I took mine in the recliner, complete with control of the TV remote. I brought a book to read, too, until the event began. We ended up watching The Transformers movie until it was time for the epidural. We went in with brave hopes of not using it. Those hopes evaporated quickly...though I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing, and probably earlier.
Four hours and thirty minutes after we arrived at the hospital, our son was born. We spent another two hours in the delivery room waiting for our room in the maternity ward. The maternity ward is on the fourth floor at the far end of the hospital. The rooms are larger than the room I stay at in the Ritz when travelling on business. They had a hospital bed for my wife, and a futon for me, so I slept comfortably.
The hospital knew she needed her rest, so they would take the baby to the nursery around 11 PM each evening and return him when they brought breakfast in the morning. They provided food to both of us. We really enjoyed the hospital staff and the accommodations. The location was ideal, too. A mall with a grocery store is directly across the street. On our second night, we both got a craving for chocolate ice cream, so I made the quick jaunt and returned with some decadent desserts.
That same evening, shortly after I returned, we started hearing what sounded like gunshots in rapid succession. We looked out the window and the night sky is flickering orange. Having just experienced the bombings in Jakarta, and being so close to China, my thoughts went to military invasion. I think my wife thought there was a bomb and the hospital was on fire.
As it turned out, the actual cause was nothing near as nebulous. The mall across the street was having a grand opening of a new store, and they had fireworks. Just shows what living in Jakarta can do to you.
The next day, the pediatrician came by and inspected our son and scheduled the circumcision. I don't know how they do these in the rest of the world, but I like the procedure they used in Singapore. They pull back the turtleneck, slide a cuff over the shaft, then let the skin fold back over the cuff. Then, they take some string and tie it tight under the cuff. Within a week, the cuff and the extra skin fall off. No pain, no cutting. Little guy didn't even notice.
After three days in the hospital, we returned to our apartment at Great World City and began the adventure that is all-day feedings and changings every two hours. One of these days, I'll have to ask my wife how she does it. I sleep through it all.
For the birth of our son, the timing of his arrival held many things in suspense. My in-laws return to the US on 26 November, and we want them to see Jakarta. Per the US Embassy website, obtaining a passport takes 10-12 days. Obtaining a Indonesian visa, I know from experience, will require 3-4 days. We will need 2-3 days in the hospital before we can go to the Embassy, assuming they have an appointment available. I was also scheduled to return to work on 02 November, and needed to be present at the Embassy when applying for the passport.
Taking all of the above into consideration, when we met with the doctor on 12 October, she asked if we wanted to induce at our appointment on 19 October. We told her we would think about it.
My wife and I went back and forth. I saw the merits of the decision to induce. She didn't want to force the issue. She was hoping to let things happen naturally. She said it felt like we were "playing God". (Brian 1:3) Thus, I said unto her: "The decision is thine. Do with it as thy will."
Ultimately, we did not induce on the 19th. My wife wanted to know that status of her cervix before making the decision, and the cervix looked ready. Our doctor said if she changed her mind, we could schedule for the next day (Tuesday) or on Thursday. She didn't deliver babies on Wednesday (which made us wonder what magical power she possessed enabling her to prevent births from occurring on Wednesday's - we later found out she was at a different hospital on that day).
By the Tuesday, our son was no closer to arriving, and all our tricks didn't work - scary movie, spicy food, marital relations. I offered to try them again, especially the last one, but that was a non-starter. Tuesday afternoon, we called the doctor and scheduled the induction.
On 22 October, we arrived at the hospital at 8 AM. My wife took her position on the bed, and I took mine in the recliner, complete with control of the TV remote. I brought a book to read, too, until the event began. We ended up watching The Transformers movie until it was time for the epidural. We went in with brave hopes of not using it. Those hopes evaporated quickly...though I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing, and probably earlier.
Four hours and thirty minutes after we arrived at the hospital, our son was born. We spent another two hours in the delivery room waiting for our room in the maternity ward. The maternity ward is on the fourth floor at the far end of the hospital. The rooms are larger than the room I stay at in the Ritz when travelling on business. They had a hospital bed for my wife, and a futon for me, so I slept comfortably.
The hospital knew she needed her rest, so they would take the baby to the nursery around 11 PM each evening and return him when they brought breakfast in the morning. They provided food to both of us. We really enjoyed the hospital staff and the accommodations. The location was ideal, too. A mall with a grocery store is directly across the street. On our second night, we both got a craving for chocolate ice cream, so I made the quick jaunt and returned with some decadent desserts.
That same evening, shortly after I returned, we started hearing what sounded like gunshots in rapid succession. We looked out the window and the night sky is flickering orange. Having just experienced the bombings in Jakarta, and being so close to China, my thoughts went to military invasion. I think my wife thought there was a bomb and the hospital was on fire.
As it turned out, the actual cause was nothing near as nebulous. The mall across the street was having a grand opening of a new store, and they had fireworks. Just shows what living in Jakarta can do to you.
The next day, the pediatrician came by and inspected our son and scheduled the circumcision. I don't know how they do these in the rest of the world, but I like the procedure they used in Singapore. They pull back the turtleneck, slide a cuff over the shaft, then let the skin fold back over the cuff. Then, they take some string and tie it tight under the cuff. Within a week, the cuff and the extra skin fall off. No pain, no cutting. Little guy didn't even notice.
After three days in the hospital, we returned to our apartment at Great World City and began the adventure that is all-day feedings and changings every two hours. One of these days, I'll have to ask my wife how she does it. I sleep through it all.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Back in Jakarta
I arrived in Jakarta mid-morning on Monday. I was surprised at the level of my disorientation. Usually, when I arrive home from a trip, I feel myself preparing to return to routine. Arriving in Jakarta did not feel that way. It felt more like the start of a new trip. The city also felt different. As we're making the way to the office, I asked my driver how long I had been away. Three weeks could have been three months.
To further my feelings of "new arrival", my neighborhood has changed. Familiar shops (that I've driven by but never gone into - which may be why...) were gone and replaced by new ones. The road leading to our town house has new pavement which appears about 1/3 meters higher than the old paving. The main streets of Jakarta are getting new sidewalks. Must be the economic stimulus package I've been hearing so much about.
I went straight to work from the airport and spent the afternoon reading and responding to the 400 emails I had received since I last checked my email two weeks prior. My maid called while I was there to inform me that the phone in my home did not work. Apparently I had not paid my bill on time so they turned it off. I was hoping I still had electricity, internet and cable. Luckily, I did. I seldom use the phone, so, as far as I know, it could still be off even though I paid my bill a few days ago. Someday I'll check.
Leaving Singapore was a flurry of activity. The Embassy indicated we'd be waiting 10-12 days for our son's (not used to writing that yet) passport. Most likely date it would be available is 13 November. I extended our stay at the apartment through 20 November, to account for the fact we would need to obtain an Indonesian visa after we received the passport. I then changed everyone's flights to leave on the 20th and booked a return flight of my own on 13 November so I wasn't away from the family for too long.
When I get to the office, my wife send me an email informing me the passport is ready. What!? Non-refundable payment to the apartment. Fees to transfer all the flights. What a waste of money....luckily, it isn't my money, but still! Now I have to determine when the family will return. We anticipate a few days for the visa, but decide to hold off on making any further changes until we have visa in hand. Today, Employee Services informs me that we will have the visa tomorrow (6 Nov). So, once more, we change all of the flights - only now, there aren't any available to return on Sunday, or even early on Monday, so I have to miss another day of work and return Monday afternoon.
I guess what I'm taking away from all this is.... One more weekend of NFL Football!!!!! Woo hoo!!
Last, but not least, now that my wife is not pregnant, and we have a 20-something family member in town, we're finally going to visit some of the clubs in Jakarta. I told my driver so he would be prepared for some late nights over the next few weeks. I also told him my brother-in-law is a "bule jomblo", which means, 'expat bachelor'. He told me, with a straight face, to be very careful in the clubs. "Local women have black magic. Many bule marry local women because they use black magic on them."
I told him I would wear my wizard cap and that everything would be fine.
To further my feelings of "new arrival", my neighborhood has changed. Familiar shops (that I've driven by but never gone into - which may be why...) were gone and replaced by new ones. The road leading to our town house has new pavement which appears about 1/3 meters higher than the old paving. The main streets of Jakarta are getting new sidewalks. Must be the economic stimulus package I've been hearing so much about.
I went straight to work from the airport and spent the afternoon reading and responding to the 400 emails I had received since I last checked my email two weeks prior. My maid called while I was there to inform me that the phone in my home did not work. Apparently I had not paid my bill on time so they turned it off. I was hoping I still had electricity, internet and cable. Luckily, I did. I seldom use the phone, so, as far as I know, it could still be off even though I paid my bill a few days ago. Someday I'll check.
Leaving Singapore was a flurry of activity. The Embassy indicated we'd be waiting 10-12 days for our son's (not used to writing that yet) passport. Most likely date it would be available is 13 November. I extended our stay at the apartment through 20 November, to account for the fact we would need to obtain an Indonesian visa after we received the passport. I then changed everyone's flights to leave on the 20th and booked a return flight of my own on 13 November so I wasn't away from the family for too long.
When I get to the office, my wife send me an email informing me the passport is ready. What!? Non-refundable payment to the apartment. Fees to transfer all the flights. What a waste of money....luckily, it isn't my money, but still! Now I have to determine when the family will return. We anticipate a few days for the visa, but decide to hold off on making any further changes until we have visa in hand. Today, Employee Services informs me that we will have the visa tomorrow (6 Nov). So, once more, we change all of the flights - only now, there aren't any available to return on Sunday, or even early on Monday, so I have to miss another day of work and return Monday afternoon.
I guess what I'm taking away from all this is.... One more weekend of NFL Football!!!!! Woo hoo!!
Last, but not least, now that my wife is not pregnant, and we have a 20-something family member in town, we're finally going to visit some of the clubs in Jakarta. I told my driver so he would be prepared for some late nights over the next few weeks. I also told him my brother-in-law is a "bule jomblo", which means, 'expat bachelor'. He told me, with a straight face, to be very careful in the clubs. "Local women have black magic. Many bule marry local women because they use black magic on them."
I told him I would wear my wizard cap and that everything would be fine.
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