White smoke was pouring out of the hood of our car, a 1982 Honda civic specially purchased for the arrival of Noah. We were trying to meld into the Indonesian way of doing things as much as we could, but when it came to carrying our newborn in a sling on the back of a motorcycle Nathan drew the line. So began the search for a small car to get us around. After looking at many a shiny, sticker covered car that turned out to be a mess under the hood, Nathan found the old but stable rust colored Honda with the big squishy seats and it became “Noah’s car”. ![]() Now smoke was billowing out of the hood only a half hour from Mas Wawan’s house. One thing that I love about Javanese and most Indonesian culture in general is that when you find yourself in a pickle, it only takes a few seconds for perfect strangers to crowd around and try to help fix the problem. I think it’s probably due to crisis culture. There isn’t much preventative thinking in Indonesia, but when a problem arises they hop to action, often “jimmy rigging” the issue for the time being. There were already a few men inspecting the car with Nathan. I sat in the back seat with Noah in his brand new car seat. If you think it was hard to find a car, that was nothing compared to finding an appropriate car seat! We ended up with a forward facing car seat from a mall in a neighboring city (the only place that might carry something so foreign) as the best we could find and were immediately the subject of much curiosity. “Dia punya kursi sendiri!?” followed by lots of giggling and shaking of heads. Yes, our baby had his own seat. Something so normal and in fact required in America was a thing of confusion here. ![]() We were on our way to visit our friend *Mas Wawan. About 8 months before, we had taken a trip to “Little Deer Island” where we spent a few nights at a rustic little off grid cabin. It was our last outing before Noah was due and floating over the gorgeous coral reefs surrounding the island felt great on swollen pregnancy feet. Mas Wawan had been our energetic and cheerful Island host and guide and Nathan and I hit it off with him right away. He was so friendly and excited to show us all the fun things about the Island. He taught me how to catch those super fast crabs by flashlight on the beach and took us to the best snorkeling spots. ![]() Since we had only been in country about 5 months at that time, we could understand more Indonesian than we could speak, but Mas Wawan had so many questions about Christians. “What’s the difference between Catholics and Christians?” “Why are you studying Indonesian?” “Where will you move after Java?” Sitting around the campfire on the beach while boiling those crabs we had caught, we tried hard to answer his questions the best we could with our limited language. He invited us repeatedly to come visit him and meet his family after Noah was born. After realizing he was from a small village only 1 1/2 hours away from where we were staying in Salatiga, we agreed. 10 Months later he called and said he was on break for rainy season and had come home. He wanted us to come meet his family and bring our new baby. It turned out we only had a hole in our coolant line and that was quickly jimmy rigged (see? I told you they could fix it) for the time being. Wawan showed up on his motorbike and led us the rest of the way to his home. He warned us that his neighbors had never seen a white person before and might be a little excited, especially to see Noah. Boy was that an understatement! In my 12 years of life in Indonesia I’ve experienced a lot of “excitement” over my kids, especially when they were babies. But I have never yet seen the sheer thrill like on the faces of Wawan’s mom and her neighbors when we arrived. Wawan’s parents were so honored that we had come and served us a beautiful meal in their adorable green house. Green is a very common house color for Muslims as it symbolizes nature and life. Noah was passed around and quickly slipped into *sarongs of different women, each eager to sniff his cheeks and squeeze his legs. Interestingly enough, the word for “kiss” and “sniff” is the same in Indonesian - “mencium” and I’ve never seen the truth of that so much as how the ladies “sniff” the babies! Instead of kissing with their lips, they drag their nose across the cheeks with a satisfied snuffling sound. Noah gots lots of that. ![]() When it was time for me to feed Noah, they led me to a side room, but I’m not sure why because there was no intention of giving me privacy. The ladies all crowded into the small room and watched Noah nurse, reaching over to stroke his hair or pinch his cheek. There are many moments here where in my head I am just laughing and thinking “I can’t believe this is happening”, or “this is so weird!” (Just to clarify, if I feel genuinely uncomfortable by something going on I will say something and speak up for myself or my kids, but many times it is just a matter of getting used to a different way of doing things and being flexible). ![]() It was beautiful to visit Wawan’s village and family. He showed us all the family animals, the neighborhood water park, and the koi fish farm next door. I met the angriest monkey I had ever seen, who reached out of his cage and slapped my phone out of my hand when I tried to take a picture! (Check out the picture and tell me he isn't the worst monkey ever!). I have never regretted accepting an invitation to visit someones home or family here. They are so gracious to invite and generous even if they have little. The communal way of life in Indonesia is something to admire. So if someone invites you to some place new, go! *In Java, “Mas” is a general term for younger, unmarried men. *Sarong is a long piece of fabric, commonly tied over your shoulder and use as a sling to hold your baby.
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AuthorBurris Family, living in Asia Pacific Archives
April 2019
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