How many people does it take to get a bule to the Ramayana Ballet?

Question: How many people does it take to get a bule to the Ramayana Ballet?

Answer: Seven.

1. One stranger who picks the walking bule up on the street and drives her to the bus stop on a motorbike, saving the bule a 20 minute walk when she was already late (jam karat), and also invites the bule to visit her NGO sometime, a German development organization not far from where the bule lives. Networking!

2. One stranger on the bus who distracts the bule with an invitation to speak at the senior high school where she is a Sociology teacher, enough that the bule misses the Terminal bus line transfer point. (“So do any of your students speak English?” “……No, not really.” Uh oh.)

3. Another stranger to help the bule navigate a brand-new bus line, resulting in bule missing the chance to grab a ride on a friend’s motorbike, but that’s okay, the new bus “goes straight to Prambanan Temple!”

4-5. Once at “Prambanan,” two British tourists who allow bule to walk along with them on the dark street to the Ramayana Ballet. Bule had assumed that the “Prambanan” bus stop meant really, truly Prambanan, the same way the DC metro stop Chinatown really, truly means Chinatown. Rookie mistake! Luckily the British four-day tourists know their way around Jogja better than the bule.

6-7. Two wonderful French students who invited the bule to the ballet with them in the first place, arranged a ticket sale in advance, and provided good company and a motor ride back home after the public buses stopped running at 10pm.

Key vocab: Bule (“boo-lay”) is the Indonesian word for “albino,” and has come to be an unoffensive word for any white person, or any foreigner I think. e.g.: There were a whole lot of bules at the Ramayana ballet tonight.

Verdict: Beautiful Javanese dancing and gamelan music outdoors at the base of a must-see 7th century Hindu temple, unexpected networking opportunities, Bahasa Indonesia AND French practice, and the chance to make new friends — yes, please!

Jogja solo

Rachel and Chrissy, my two fellow VIA Indonesia volunteers, climbed Mt. Merapi last night/this morning to see sunrise on a volcano top. Here’s Chrissy and Rachel (backs turned) and the mountain as we saw it last week – they climbed just about the whole thing.

Rather than climb up, much less down, a volcanically active mountain, my temperamental knees and I opted to explore my new city instead. Our new friend Andre and I are looking for roommates for his house, where I’ll also be living (if you know anyone in Jogja…), so we needed to hang signs up at cafes and schools across the city to advertise. But first I had to find Andre. He’s not sure where our house is, and it’s not on any maps, so we agreed to meet at 1:30pm at Mirotah, where I’ve been a couple times.

Being alone in a foreign language country is a little like the monkey bars: you just kind of (s)wing it until your next good hold. It was my first solo bus ride into the city, and I missed the stop at Mirotah Kampus. My curious “Mirotah? Di mana Mirotah?” questions to passengers and the driver had them pointing behind us, smiling, and giving me advice in Bahasa. Soon I was the last passenger on the bus, so I asked the driver to speak to Andre on my cell phone and they figured out where to leave me so Andre could pick me up. Turns out I wasn’t that far off from Mirotah after all, though the driver might have changed his route to help me (thank you!). Also, never underestimate the power of a phone-in translator, if you’re lucky enough to have both kind and multilingual friends.

I’m going to be heavily reliant on buses, taxis, friends, and a borrowed bicycle to get around Jogja until I can figure out my own vehicle. The bus system in Jogja is pretty comprehensive except that it only runs until ~6pm each day.

There are no official “bus stops” – the buses just pick you up and drop you off wherever you need, as long as it’s on the route. You hail a bus like a taxi cab, and to get off, you stand up and yell “KIRI, MAS! (“Left, sir!”) to the driver or money collector to pull over and let you off (traffic’s on the left side here). Sometimes the bus barely stops moving long enough for you to descend, and you have to hop the last step.

I successfully took the bus both to and from our house today and paid a total of 5,000 Rupiah (about $.63), whereas the same trip in taxis would have cost about $6.00. Of course, the most fun way to get around is the generosity of friends — and most friends here will inevitably have motorbikes. Wahoo!

Looking forward, Ramadan ends this week and the city shuts down to celebrate for a few days. We’re lucky enough to have been invited to a friend’s home to participate in the holiday tomorrow, which will bring a whole host of new culinary delights that only happen once a year. Selamat Idul Fitri!