I'm an English Language Whore

Even though at some point everyday I ask myself if this is really my life, I'm starting to feel at home here in Indonesia.

Last night Erin and I went to meet up with a bunch of expats who live here in Medan.  There is an Australian English teacher at her school who invited us to join them at a restaurant called Medan Club.  I had no idea where I was going.  All I had was the address of the restaurant, so I gave it to the taxi driver and, yet again, entrusted my life and safety to the hands of a total stranger who drives like a mad man.  He dropped me off in a complex that had several restaurants in it.  None of them had a sign that said "Medan Club" so I didn't know which door to enter.  I walked toward one building but immediately turned around when I saw that the door said "Members Only."  For about ten minutes, I walked around in the parking lot like a major creeper until I could get Erin on the phone to come and find me.

The night picked up from there.  When we walked in, the waitresses stopped us at the door to learn our names.  This is standard procedure for anywhere I go in this city, but their inquiries had a different tone.  Because they see Westerners all the time, they had no need to practice their English with Erin and me.  Instead I think they wanted to learn our names to make us feel more comfortable.  The impression I get is that once an expat goes to Medan Club, he or she quickly becomes a regular customer.

I do think they were a little excited to see female expats; as it turns out, in a city of two million people, there are only 300 expats.  Of those 300, there are no more than 5 women.  We asked the men who were there to tell us about some of the other Western women in the city, but they could only think of one woman.  They did say that there was an American woman here teaching, but she left after only five days.  When we heard that, Erin and I looked at each other and burst into laughter.  We understand.  We totally understand.

Being a woman in this country is hard.  Being a Western woman in this country is really hard.  I'm used to a very different way of life.  Privacy and independence are difficult concepts for anyone in this culture, but for a woman alone . . . man oh man!  I think it's time for an explanation.

In Indonesia, people function as a community.  Your family is always first, and your friends and neighbors are a close second.  Unlike in America, it is very rare for young adults to move away when they start work or go to college.  Children live with their parents until they get married.  Sometimes men will move to another city for work and live in an apartment with other friends, but often they will move in with extended family - aunts and uncles, cousins, etc.  When I first got here and was trying to make some friends, I asked people what they do for fun.  I was expecting to hear them say things like going to the movies, hanging out at coffee shops, or going to dance clubs or karaoke bars (karaoke is HUGE here!).  Instead they all said, "We hang out with our families."

Whoa.

For fun?  No offense to Mom and Dad - I love y'all and love hanging out with y'all - but really?  Hanging out with your families ALL the time?  Not at all what I wanted to hear.

To make matters worse, I haven't yet been able to find any Indonesian people my age that I can really see myself becoming friends with.  Most of the time, they make me feel like an English language whore. They only want to practice their English with me or try to get me to teach their families or their children English.  No one wants to be my friend because they like me for me.

Correction.  I feel like no one wants to be my friend just because they like me.  I'm sure that it's not true, but right now it's so hard to tell.  When the first thing anyone says to me is, "I want to practice English with you" or "Can you teach me English?" it makes it difficult for me to want to move forward with a friendship.  Especially when the conversation that follows is so dry and the person so void of personality that we cannot even share a laugh.

Speaking of sharing a laugh, that is something that's hard to do here as well.  As I wrote in a previous post, the only laughing I do is at myself.  Unless I'm with Erin - we laugh ALL THE TIME!  I love her! She's wonderful!  But an American sense of humor does not translate well into Indonesian culture.  Ever heard of a little thing called sarcasm?  Yeah . . . they haven't in Indonesia.  They don't understand sarcasm at all.  And most people who speak English are very literal.  Painfully literal.  So I have to watch myself or I could get into a lot of trouble.

The more Indonesian I learn, the easier it will be for me to find Indonesian friends.  But because shared interests are still few and far between,  we'll see if this can really happen.