I see you have a wiener dog. I also have a wiener dog.
The above is what I would have LIKED to say to a nice pair of Indonesian ladies I spoke to the other night, who live in our neighborhood and were walking their wee dachshund. Travis and I saw them while we were walking, and because I can spot a wiener dog from at least 100 yards away (or as they say here, metres), we went to talk to them. Thank God for the universal language of dog, because my statement to them was as follows, "Me...uh...anjing...Amerika...um...tidak ini...uh..." and it included lots of pointing and gesturing. That translates to, "Me...uh...dog...America...um...no here...uh" but somehow they got that my dog, similar to their dog, was not here but was in America. Or at least they smiled and nodded so the crazy white girl would stop talking at them. I suspect the latter, but what can you do?
This weekend was nice because Monday was just a day of games at school and Tuesday was a national holiday, Indonesian National Day, so we could totally slack off and relax. Travis and I spent Friday evening at the spa, then caught a taxi into Jakarta Saturday afternoon, where we wandered around various malls. People here assume that because we're white foreigners, we're rich. It's very strange, but it did allow for us to stroll into several swanky boutiques-Burberry, Prada and Cartier-and not be given looks that plainly said, "Uh, Wal-Mart's that way, hayseeds." We had great fun pretending to examine $500 handbags and $200 umbrellas, then saying things like "ah, yes, we shall return later, perhaps," secretly adding in our minds "after we sell a lung or two." It was probably obvious we weren't really THAT wealthy, though, because we didn't have bag boys carrying around our purchases for us, while several other people did.
The students at our school are, for the most part, unbelievably wealthy. The kindergarteners, in fact, cannot feed themselves when they get to school because they've never had to learn. Their maids and nannies do it for them. There is actually a clause in the student handbook, seriously, that says "No maids or nannies shall be allowed in the cafeteria during mealtimes or in the classroom during the school day." Lori, the cute Canadian kindergarten teacher, practically has to beat the maids and nannies to get them to leave. A lot of the kids don't even really know their parents at all-just the nanny who raised them. The students speak casually about their servants and drivers. Most of them, at least the ones who don't live in the boarding house, are picked up each day by drivers, sitting behind the wheel of brand-new SUVs and BMWs. There really doesn't seem to be much of a middle class here, people are either inconceivably rich or they're incredibly poor-unless you're expatriate teachers like us, in which case you ARE the whole middle class, not poor by Indonesian standards, but certainly not wealthy enough to own a big house, fly first class or shop in designer stores. So basically we're in the same boat here that we were in the U.S., and that's totally OK with me. Here, most maids who don't live with their employers and don't cook meals make about $30 a month, and that's considered a really nice salary. It's...it's strange. It's a little hard to get used to. I guess I just hope I don't get immune to it, and that I never take what we have here for granted.
This weekend was nice because Monday was just a day of games at school and Tuesday was a national holiday, Indonesian National Day, so we could totally slack off and relax. Travis and I spent Friday evening at the spa, then caught a taxi into Jakarta Saturday afternoon, where we wandered around various malls. People here assume that because we're white foreigners, we're rich. It's very strange, but it did allow for us to stroll into several swanky boutiques-Burberry, Prada and Cartier-and not be given looks that plainly said, "Uh, Wal-Mart's that way, hayseeds." We had great fun pretending to examine $500 handbags and $200 umbrellas, then saying things like "ah, yes, we shall return later, perhaps," secretly adding in our minds "after we sell a lung or two." It was probably obvious we weren't really THAT wealthy, though, because we didn't have bag boys carrying around our purchases for us, while several other people did.
The students at our school are, for the most part, unbelievably wealthy. The kindergarteners, in fact, cannot feed themselves when they get to school because they've never had to learn. Their maids and nannies do it for them. There is actually a clause in the student handbook, seriously, that says "No maids or nannies shall be allowed in the cafeteria during mealtimes or in the classroom during the school day." Lori, the cute Canadian kindergarten teacher, practically has to beat the maids and nannies to get them to leave. A lot of the kids don't even really know their parents at all-just the nanny who raised them. The students speak casually about their servants and drivers. Most of them, at least the ones who don't live in the boarding house, are picked up each day by drivers, sitting behind the wheel of brand-new SUVs and BMWs. There really doesn't seem to be much of a middle class here, people are either inconceivably rich or they're incredibly poor-unless you're expatriate teachers like us, in which case you ARE the whole middle class, not poor by Indonesian standards, but certainly not wealthy enough to own a big house, fly first class or shop in designer stores. So basically we're in the same boat here that we were in the U.S., and that's totally OK with me. Here, most maids who don't live with their employers and don't cook meals make about $30 a month, and that's considered a really nice salary. It's...it's strange. It's a little hard to get used to. I guess I just hope I don't get immune to it, and that I never take what we have here for granted.
posted by Erin @ 9:12 AM
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