First Impressions

By Clare McNamara, s26
Murdoch University

It’s been nearly 2 weeks since I arrived in Indonesia, and I would have to say that I haven’t experienced that much culture shock, as it is just as crazy as I expected.

My first day was akin to the movie “Terminal,” as I was stuck in the domestic airport in Denpasar for 7 hours. I thought they must have removed all the lockers due to bomb risks, but then I found out later that there were in fact lockers around the other side. So instead of having a few much needed Bintang in Bali, I spent the day being stared at by holidaying Indonesians and making sure no-one tried to use me as a mule.

My first encounter with the locals other than the throng of eager taxi drivers (which have to be controlled by a docket system so as not to scare the tourists with their enthusiasm) was a group of waria. These “ladies” are actually just socially outcast transvestites who busk for money, and not in fact prostitutes as I first thought. Had I known this I would have gladly put a few rupiah in their cups, but fearing a Devine Brown situation I kept the doors locked and tried not to make eye contact. Once at the losmen (hostel type place) I actually slept quite well other than being woken up by the first call to prayer at 4am and then a strange flea-ridden bird that sounded like a child impersonating a cat.

For the rest of that week we all stayed at the uni guest house for orientation and learnt all the useful stuff like that the volcano (Mt. Merapi) always has smoke pouring out of it and so in the unlikely event that it’s peak is visible through the smog, not to be alarmed. Apparently it hasn’t had a major eruption since 2006 anyway, so nothing to worry about. We also learnt all about the dangers of riding motorbikes in Indonesia, with a few graphic images of accidents previous students had had thrown in for added effect, and then all jumped on the back of our pendampings’ (Indonesian helper) bikes to look for boarding houses the next day. We were also given insight into the wonders of Indonesian university and what to expect when classes start, or don’t to be more precise. Now that we are in the process of enrolling I can see just how useful the phrase Itulah Indonesia! (That’s Indonesia!) can be. So far we have heard 3 different starting dates for classes, and the only girl who has had any lectures yet (psychology faculty) turned up just in time to find her class moving to a completely different building. We also heard a story from a previous student that his lecturer didn’t turn up for class for the first 7 weeks. Not quite sure how they check for that 70% attendance record if not there for more than 50% themselves.

At the moment our lives here pretty much consist of dragging our pendamping around the shops to buy all the necessities, getting other people to do our washing and ironing for a pittance, eating out every night and not doing dishes, asking for directions when we get hopelessly lost and then getting even more hopelessly lost from these directions, and calling the Indonesian assistant Ijo every time we do something totally bule (Western person), like not being able to find a shop and ending up being opposite it on the wrong side of the road, and of course being laughed at by Indonesians.

As much as it can be humiliating being laughed at all the time, I must admit we do make it easy for them. 6 of us bought identicle bicycles the other day. We then bought some really naff motorbike helmets together. So not only are we drawing attention to ourselves by being the only people on bicycles, we also look like the Power Rangers doing the Tour de France. But I do go to bed each night knowing that I have brightened someone’s day by providing some comic relief.

The other significant events from the week really belong to Cat. Her first adventure began at 4 in the morning when her room filled with smoke and she ran out into the common area in her pajamas to find everyone else still sleeping soundly. She frantically knocked on doors until a few of the girls begrudgingly put on their jilbab (head scarves) and took her outside. Thinking the building was burning down she was amazed at how calm everyone was. The girls then explained that the smoke was to deter mosquitoes and that this happened twice a month. Whilst all’s well that ends well, I’m now not too sure whether to run out of the building screaming or just go back to sleep if my room fills with smoke in the early hours of the morning.

On Saturday we went to Borobudur, a famous Buddhist temple about 40km from Yogya. We left at 5:30am so that it wasn’t too hot when we arrived and all piled into a van for the drive. I would say the van was probably licensed to seat about half as many people as we had packed in there. A few people thought about riding on the roof, but I wasn’t sure if we would be picking up any livestock on the way so thought the roof and the boot may have been reserved for chickens or goats or something. When we first started looking around the temple is was reasonably cool for Indonesian standards, quite peaceful (for Indonesian standards) and quite amazing to see something so old and beautiful with such a stunning backdrop of mountains and volcanoes. But this serenity was short-lived, as upon reaching the top we were descended upon by a throng of Indonesians wanting photos with us. The first group to come up to me had official-looking badges on and asked me if they could “do examination on me”. I must have looked a bit apprehensive as they quickly showed me that their badges were from an English school. So in a very cunning plan their teachers had sent them up to a known tourist site at 5am and instructed them to speak English with “strangers” as they called it. The teachers then hovered around and assessed them on their speaking skills. 

So after our day of sightseeing we went out for dinner and then a night on the town. Mitch, the birthday boy, is allergic to yeast and so can’t drink beer, very unfortunate in Indonesia. So we went to a club in the hope of finding some spirits. Even after only being here for 2 weeks I noticed how un-Indonesian the place was. All the waitresses were very scantily-clad which just looks wrong when everyone usually wears long pants and shirts and many girls wear the jilbab. I felt like such a granny thinking “oh how shameless!” I was also surprised by how potent the drinks were. In Australia most places try to water down drinks with as much post-mix coke or fake juice as possible, but Indonesian clubs don’t seem to shy away from doing an 80:20 mix with alcohol being the greater portion. Whilst this may seem like a pisshead’s dream, the alcohol used in the cocktails (which come in jugs) is perhaps more suited to cleaning paintbrushes or car engines. Needless to say there were a few sore heads the next day. Luckily for me Bintang comes in a sealed bottle and is usually readily available. I say usually because at this particular club the waitresses seemed more concerned with dancing provocatively on the stage to the appalling cover band then actually bringing the drinks you have just ordered. Oh and don’t get too excited boys, most of them were probably less than 4 foot tall. We started to wonder if we were in fact in a night club or had stumbled upon a midget convention.

As in Japan, Indonesia is the perfect place to find T-shirts using really inappropriate English phrases. Whilst I have seen too many to remember, my favourites would have to be Fancy a screw? and I’m a tosser. For a country that finds bare shoulders offensive I couldn’t quite imagine how wrong it would be to see a girl wearing a jilbab and such a T-shirt. If only the tosser T-shirt had been in male sizes I would have bought one. I think I know a few people who might warrant such a label.