Quick and random: bath mat

The floor mat outside the toilet at Wisma Bahasa language school. Just look at it for a little while. And ponder.

Somewhere, sometime, somehow, someone thought it would be a good idea to make a bath mat. Makes sense, bathroom floors in Indonesia are very wet things.

But to distinguish this bath mat from the many others on the market they needed a catchy design. And why not choose - of all the many things in the universe to wipe one's feet on - why not choose tennis balls?

But what really gets me is this: if you are going to depict and identify tennis balls on your bath mat, why use an image of baseballs?

So apparently we're having a baby... and soon!

Yep - according to the experts the bun in the oven is sufficiently cooked, and the new addition to our family could arrive any time now. Officially the due date is September 11, but who knows?

The baby is clearly ready, as this video from about a month ago attests..

To be honest, I'm kinda starting to freak out about it. Not in the what-else-is-there-on-the-to-do-list-before-baby-arrives way. More on the conceptual level. I'm going to be a dad. Again. Our family is now going to be four people, not three. Charlie's going to be a big brother. That sort of stuff; big picture stuff.

Until now we've been focussing more on the immediate challenges that come with having a baby in a foreign country.

The language barrier is the obvious one. Being able to communicate with... well, just about anyone Indonesian. About when they baby is being born, where, how, with whom.  Doctors, midwives, concerned well-wishers. I'm relieved that Kai speaks a reasonable amount of Bahasa Indonesia, as I just don't have the language skills to understand all the questions, let alone provide meaningful answers. I can order food, ask for an provide directions, book a ticket on a plane, or train or even get somewhere in a taksi. But fat lot of good that will do me in an emergency. The idea of being unable to represent Kai's wishes and needs if anything should go wrong... that's more than a little scary. And with about two weeks to go before B-day, there's not a whole lot of time to learn. 

Another challenge has been the fact that, according to the Central Statistics Agency survey from 2010, "only 1.2 million, less than one percent, Indonesian people are Rh negative", so Anti-D (look it up if you don't know) is only available by import and therefore expensive - $200+ for a shot they give for free in Australia - and finding a willing donor in case of emergency was something to worry about, now fortunately sorted.

How about finding a midwife and doctor who support your own belief in birth being a perfectly natural process, requiring intervention only when things are going wrong? That's a problem anywhere, but in Indonesia (and presumably most developing countries madly chasing their own perception - perhaps as much as 20 years out of date - of 'how they do it in the West') , it was even more of a challenge.

Thankfully the midwife part is sorted. We found an amazing bidan - midwife - based in Klaten, a town a little over an hour's drive north east of where we are living. Bidan Kita - loosely, our midwife - is a small practice run by an amazing woman who teaches meditation and hypnotism as tools to reduce pain of labour. She's rather more out-there and mystical than Kai or I, but we are comfortable and reassured with her as our midwife.

Doctors - not quite. The one doctor we were recommended by a German-Indonesian couple turns out to be be very much of the 'I am the expert, I know best' model. And has all the personality of a brick wall. This doctor works at what is widely regarded as the best rumah sakit (literally, sickness home, or hospital) in town, which is reassuring, but seems to be quite at odds with the non-intervention (unless necessary) model that we aspire to. Kai has visited an alternative hospital and given it the thumbs up, but we have not yet met the doctor there who is apparently a little more in tune with our vibe.

Rencana A (plan A), as previously discussed, is for a birth at home, ideally in water. That requires a bath. A bath which we've ordered and were promised 10 days to delivery, about 14 days ago. Problems from the manufacturer's supplier, or some such. Getting nervous.

A car we have planned to have on standby for all of September, because taking a labouring woman to the hospital (if needed) on a scooter is, while comical, perhaps not a smart idea. Not yet confirmed.

Cloth nappies - also a rare thing over here.

And so on. It's these details that mean you don't really have the time or headspace to contemplate the gravity of what's about to happen.

We have done our best to prepare Charlie for big brotherhood, and I'm confident he is as ready as any child can be ahead of such a massive upheaval. His affection towards the bump is one of the sweetest things we've ever seen.

Right now we have a Dad somewhat slowly realising what's about to happen, a Mum battling Braxton-Hicks and nasty leg cramps who is basically over the whole pregnancy thing, and a fair few pieces of the plan yet to fall into place. There's much to be excited about, but we're in now rush.

Besides, I haven't made enough use of baby shelf yet.

Not sure how much blogging there will be between now and the bub arriving, and perhaps expecting even less than that afterwards, at least for a little while as we adjust to being a family of four. But in the meantime, just know that we are all reasonably healthy, happy, and basically just excited. Sure, having a baby here is at times scary and challenging. But all in all we are just looking forward to meeting anak dua (child number 2).

I'll conclude with a picture of a random statue in honour of breastfeeding, which I stumbled upon not far from Charlie's playgroup. I have absolutely no idea if this is outside a village midwife or just randomly placed. But it made me feel reassured that pregnancy and childbirth and motherhood and parenthood are universal, and that as a team, our family will be fine.

#100HappyDays - Day 43 - Funky shopping in Kasongan

Every weekday I drive through a little town called Kasongan on the way to and from Charlie's playgroup. It is known for ceramics, but also has a bunch of funky art, furniture and interesting home and garden ware stores. Today I took Amy with me so I could show her some of these shops after dropping off the wee man. She found some cool stuff, and bought a funky memento of her stay.

Here's some examples of the cool stuff on display:

And the obligatory language goof:

#100HappyDays - Day 42 - Catching up with Amy

Spent a bit of time catching up with Amy. Was really nice to speak face to face with a dear friend from back home. It's easy to forget, living in a country where you don't speak the language and spending a lot of time with a three-year-old, how important adult company really is.

#100HappyDays - Day 39 - Watchin' Soccer

Yep - I got up at 3am (Jogja time) to watch the opening match of the World Cup. Brazil vs Chile.

And my fear of commentary being in Indonesian proved unnecessary, as the very second they cut from the Jakarta studio to the match, presto - Bahasa Inggris!

Happy boy.

(no picture - nobody looks pretty at this time of morning)

#100HappyDays - Day 36 - Language LOL

Every other day over here there's some lost-in-translation experience or other. Here was today's.

#100HappyDays - Day 35 - Proud Dad, and photo fun

The son continues to amaze us every day with his rapidly advancing mind. He's three years, and about four and a half years old. And can count to over 100 in two languages (over a thousand in English!), sing songs in Indonesian, and is already showing an ability to read and write. I've never been a parent before - perhaps this normal, I don;t know. But he certainly amazes me.

Only 9 (or maybe 10) of the letters on this page were written by his mum. The rest - all Charlie.

I accidentally took this photo in our bathroom, playing around with depth-of-field. I like how this turned out (without any editing at all).











When I corrected the camera settings, here is actually what I was trying to shoot.

#100HappyDays - Day 27 - Home Invasion 2 (reciprocation)

It was only a matter of time.

There's never been much reason for the kids to visit Rumah Dave (Dave's house) - and I imagine that behind the gates and walls this house might have been seen with a sense of a mystery. But now that Rumah Dave has become Rumah Charlie, curiosity has conquered fear.

At first it was just a couple of girls, who approached with apparent trepidation, asking from the yard if Charlie would like to bermain (play). But today they ventured in through the gates, to door step. Chartlie wheeled over his toy box, and before long they were sitting inside on the floor, sharing his colouring books and other toys.

It's beautiful to watch him interacting with other kids despite the language barrier. But when you think about it it's not all that different to playing with toddlers back home, where they are all only just learning English.

#100HappyDays - Day 25 - Part 2. Shopping Mall Talent Show

Solo mission to Malioboro Mall today, to get adjustments made so my new glasses (yay!) don't slip off my little nose (boo!). As I walked in to centre court, I found a performance taking place, called "Moms and Kids".


The first thing I noticed was that it was loud. And I mean really loud. I can only presume that Indonesian PA engineers are all already deaf, because I'm yet to find one turned to anything lower than ear-splitting. So loud was the music that I'm only 70% sure that they were singing in English - though that may be due in part to the kids' adorably accented take on the language. It sounds like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star...



After the charming rendition, the hostesses appeared, their attempts to hype the crowded mall hindered because their voices were super-distorted. Both women were very attractive, if rather heavily made up. But I admit to being mildly concerned for the innocence of the kids sitting on the floor, watching the particularly short-skirted hostess strut around on stage.



After I think what scared/fascinated me most about this strange cultural experience was seeing the proud kids, after one-by-one yelling their name into the microphone before disappearing back-of-stage, re-emerge to join their Moms (and a few dads), triumphantly carrying their prize - a drink of water and a box of fried chicken! 

Indonesia: proudly increasing children's confidence AND waistlines... (and killing their ear drums).

Experiences like this remind me where I am, and definitely put a smile on my face.

#100HappyDays - Day 24 - Education, Culture and the Beach

We were picked up early (6:30am) for a car trip to a village in the Gunung Kidul region east of Jogja.

The purpose was for a cultural experience, attending a local school to talk to the children about where we are from, to expose the children to other languages and cultures, and to hopefully inspire some of them to think about possible futures beyond the boundaries of their own village.

We began with a rousing rendition of the Indonesian national anthem sung by the kids. And then a lot of talking in Indonesian, most of which went way over my head. But the song and dance performances - almost all by the girls while the boys sat watching - were really sweet. 

We played a game, where some of the children were encouraged to ask us a question in English, in return for a prize. The questions were simple - do you like Indonesia, what food do you like here, what is your favourite food from Australia. And then I got to ask a question - and I challenged them to point to Australia on the map of the world hanging behind the stage area. IT too a few goes, but eventually they got it. I'm not sure many Aussie kids of a similar age would be able to point to Indonesia without a little help.

   

Kai and her Mum taught the kids (again, mainly the girls) how to play that clapping game with the song "A Sailor Went To Sea Sea Sea", and the kids played a game of catch that was very similar to a game I remember from my own primary school days many years back.

Some more dancing, some more singing, and the young Moroccan lady on the trip with us sang a song for the kids. There was a closing thank you, we were presented with certificates of attendance. And then it was time to go. 

We jumped back in the car and headed to the beach for the afternoon. It wasn't really a swimming beach, but it did have a cave, and with a little effort were able to source a seafood lunch.

All in all an interesting day, and no doubt something a little different for Charlie's grandparents to experience as part of their visit.

#100HappyDays - Day 15 - Home invasion

Charlie just rode his bike up someone's driveway and into their living room this morning. Inside was a woman and a four year old girl. The boy just made himself home, sitting on their mat and started playing with her toys. Before long, and with only a handful of words in Indonesian, he'd made a new friend.

A short time later two of her friends arrived, and next thing you know, Charlie is putting on a clown show. So amazing to watch how quickly he adapts.

Three months and 'otherness'

May 6 – the day I started writing this entry – was an auspicious occasion; exactly three months since we left Australia. A quarter of our time here already gone; our Jogja experience slipping by unbelievably quickly.

View from D'Omah restaurant, where I write this.

The open-air gym at D'Omah hotel.

On that day, and again today, I have treated myself to a gym workout, a swim, a few minutes of sun-bathing, and a brief meditation at D'Omah Hotel, about 3 minutes walk from our Tembi home. Now I'm not much of a gym guy; the five sessions on the treadmill at the hotel gym this past fortnight is the only exercise I've done in about five months, courtesy of a severely sprained ankle courtesy of Ultimate Frisbee. Nor am I a swimmer, but try running 2.5 kms on a treadmill in 34 degree apparent heat and tropical humidity of 80%+; you'll never appreciate a pool more! Anyone who has ever seen my white flesh can vouch for how seldom the sun touches this skin. And to be honest, my efforts at meditation are only very recent too; an attempt to slow my mind down and claw back some headspace. But the combination of all these things this morning has been therapeutic, and got me feeling all reflective (I think that was an accidental joke about my tan – hey, I cracked a funny!).

Looking skyward from a D'Omah sunbed

Much has happened in three months, but the infrequent blog updates suggest I'm not good at making time to document my experiences. Joining the #100HappyDays movement has certainly helped me feel more grateful and positive, but it does reduce the impetus to blog in detail. There's usually way more than one thing worth writing about each day, and even the negative experiences have value (at least retrospectively). Feel free to let me know in the comments whether or not you like the addition of the #100HappyDays.

Actually, the lack of updates to the blog has been weighing me down a little of late, as I enjoy writing and feel like I'm failing somehow by not updating the blog frequently. This is a weight of expectation that I've put on myself, and I think in my current mood I am realising how destructive this is. Timely then that after my morning wellbeing-for-beginners session I watched that “Look Up" video that's been doing the rounds on Facebook lately. I must say, I'm as guilty as any of you reading this, when it comes to the role social media and modern technology plays in my life. After watching this, I can't help but wonder how many awesome experiences I might be missing because I'm too busy stressing over writing a blog about the experiences I've already had!

In the interests of brevity, so that you can go out and have some experiences of our own instead of reading about mine, perhaps the best approach would be to share just a few photos from the adventure so far and then sum up how I am feeling now, three months in to this life changing experience.

First, the photos. My god there are loads to choose from. In fact, I will limit this to just a few selected highlights from just the first week or this post will break the internet. Apologies to those reading on mobile.

Bye bye, dry brown land. Shot from the plane on Sony Xperia Z1	Charlie at play in paradisal pool. Kusnadi hotel, Legian, Bali. Shot with a Canon 700D
Happy boy in Tembi Tembi village, Bantul. Shot with a Canon 700D	Getting arty in Tembi Tembi village, Bantul, Yogyakarta. Shot with a Canon 700D
I love the sky here, the way the clouds play in the light. Rumah Budaya, Tembi Yogyakarta. Shot with Sony Xperia Z1	More Charlie, but what a fantastic model! Tembi village, Bantul, Yogyakarta. Shot with a Canon 700D

And to sum up the current mood: the “otherness” is fading. The breath-taking, exhilarating feeling as you round a bend and see sights you've never seen before is less frequent and less dramatic as it was. The satisfaction of getting 'found' after having gotten lost - accidentally or deliberately - is no longer as strong. The fact that it's a different culture and a different landscape seems to be less immediate, replaced by a comfortable familiarity – that sense of “home”.

This onset of familiarity happens subtly, creeping up on you until one day a busy road into Jogja could be a busy road into Sydney or Melbourne or any other city you have only vague familiarity with. Sure it's all still very distinctly Indonesian, unmistakably so - if you look. But that's just it; you stop actively looking, stop noticing, and that sense of "otherness" disappears.

Here's a challenge: on your next commute to or from work, trip to the local shops, or any other journey you have done a thousand times, try and notice something you've never consciously noticed before. Safely, of course – I don't want to be responsible for a spate of accidents. But I bet you'll find there are hundreds of things, even really obvious ones, that you've not noticed because you've long since stopped looking at the world around you.

I think this is the thrill of travelling, especially travelling to new places: getting away from familiar scenes, getting uncomfortable, so you can re-learn how to be 'aware' of your surroundings and once again see the magic and the beauty and order and chaos all around you. And that's the feeling that is slipping for me a bit now. It's all still there, abundantly - but I now need to 'try' to see it. Three months in Jogja and I'm not "travelling" any more, I've "moved home". The otherness is fading.

Flat Tyres

So I'm back at my riverside café, this time quite by accident.

En route to the lad's playgroup this morning I managed to score a flat tyre on the scooter. For those of you who, like me until just now, are unfamiliar with the behaviour of a motorcycle at speed with a flat rear tyre, let me try to explain. The handlebars and front tyre remain pointed exactly where you want to go, while the entire rear end of the bike swishes about like the tail end of a fish. It's not dramatic – in fact, it took me a little while to determine that, yes, something was actually wrong. Braking, it feels like the rear wheel chooses one side or the other and tries to swing itself in that direction, out around your shoulder – ok, that bit is dramatic, especially when you have your three-year-old son standing in front of you as you ride. Fortunately I was able to stop safely, and ponder my next move.