Indonesia Diary Entry

16/8  A few comments on living in this country. 

Life in another country involves two kinds of changes.  One leaves home and one enters another land.  That is, of course, banal.  I was prepared for life in another environment.  I was less prepared for the absence of the old environment.  This may be magnified by life in central Java.  There is so little of the old familiar day-to-day stuff, that one’s sensitivity to the new surroundings is acute.  A couple of examples may help. 

Boston and eastern Massachusetts are not well known for ease of getting around.  Any of us who come from other areas of the country are immediately struck by the absence of any grid to cities, the frequent changes of name on what appears to be a single street, and the general paucity of nameplates at intersections.  It can be said with perfect confidence that Boston navigation is child’s play compared to cities here.  Street names are impossible to locate at intersections.  It doesn’t matter though, as the names change much more quickly than in Boston or Worcester.  (I dare say, if one was driving and paused to look for or at a street sign, one wouldn’t have a chance.  Traffic would consume the idle driver almost immediately.)  So it follows that one should have a good map.  Right, only there are no maps – or no one seems to know of any.  If you want to tell someone where you live (such as a cab driver), you simply tell him as much as you know about the area.  “I want to go to A, which is pretty near B, which meets up with C.”  You get the idea.  Indeed, some letters are addressed in just this way.  (My own address requires three streets on an envelope.)  In coming here one gives up not just a sense of direction and place, in exchange for new places and directions, but a whole new way of finding one’s way.

A second example is simpler.  The things one does for recreation at home are not to be found here, and the things done for recreation here are rarely found at home.  I like this example because it reminds me of all the ex pats  in books and movies.  They typically are portrayed as re-creating their homes abroad.  They congregate in public and private places that are just like those at home, or at least made in films to seem like home.  It is interesting that this is often associated with drinking.  That serves two purposes:  one creates a familiar environment and at the same time obliterates current consciousness.  The games played at home are played abroad, whether it is Americans playing Frisbee in Patagonia or Greeks playing soccer in Worcester.  The attention one gets from local people is safely ignored, thereby not only bringing home abroad but also maintaining a sense of distance. 

As I write this I am still feeling my way around.  I doubt if I’ll be able to blend in very well, but I hope I don’t build a wall around myself.