Home Sweet Home

     A few hours after my last post we met up with the Belgian exchange students and a few minutes after that the exchange students from France.We were able to chat a bit, exchange some pins and cards, and snap a picture. The bright blue blazers are the students from France while the navy blue blazers are both the Belgians and us Americans however you can tell us apart because the Americans have so many pins as a result of the epic pin swap at Central States Conference. Third from the left is Romane from Belgium who is also spending the year in Jogja.

After that we made our way to gate 41 and onto Jakarta, a nine hour flight.

     Stepping off the plane in Jakarta was equal parts exciting and terrifying. None of us were entirely sure how to get from arrival to domestic transfer, the poor French and Belgian students were speaking English as a second language to immigration officers who were speaking English as a second language also, and we had no idea where Mas Indra (the executive secretary for Rotary Youth Exchange in all of Indonesia) was and we were supposed to meet him. But at the same time, we had finally made it - we were actually in Indonesia!

     It was pretty obvious I wasn't in Wisconsin anymore. The warmth hit you as you stepped out of the door and everything was green and tropical looking. The walkways at each gate that led to the actual, physical gate to the plane, were glass and between each walkway was beautiful green space, like so:

     As we made our way through immigration and luggage claim, to customs and eventually domestic transfer, we realized things were going to be just fine. The workers at Garuda Indonesia, a domestic airline, were beyond excited to see us with our blazers full of pins. I think we had about 20-30 pictures taken of us with various staff members and security guards. With boarding passes in hand, although now separated into a few groups of two or three, we made our way to the domestic terminal, said a couple of goodbyes, and each of us went to our own gate.

     From there, I was on my own. The flight from Jakarta to Yogyakarta was about an hour, but even with a delay on the tarmac of about 20 minutes, the flight felt extremely short compared to the previous 13 hour and 9 hour marathon-like flights. Despite the flight being so short, it was apparently long enough to warrant a snack of bread filled with some kind of curried meat and a cupcake-esque pastry. Here is the first food picture of many:

     In Jogja, I was warmly welcomed by not only my first host family, but also my second host parents, my third host mom, and my club youth exchange officer and her husband. They had a banner, my 10-year-old host brother, Jovan, gave me a Javanese hat whose name I don't remember right now, and were just as excited as I was.

This isn't everyone, but from from left to right is my second host mom, Lili; my first host mom, Marissa; myself; my first host brother, Jovan; my Youth Exchange Officer, Lina; and her husband, Yohannes.

     From the airport we drove to a restaurant; well drove would be putting it mildly, we more or less did battle on a road in a car with all of the other cars and an insane amount of motorcycles. As far as I can tell, the rules of the road are roughly that there are no rules of the road. So long as you don't actually hit someone else, you can get as close to them as you want; car, motorcycle, pedestrian, you name it. But more on that in another post. At the restaurant, I met Amy, an exchange student from Canada, and my host club's president whose name I was never actually told. The food was good, all five different things they had me try, but with the jet lag my eating and sleeping schedules are so out of whack I couldn't eat a whole lot. From there we went back to the airport where we were supposed to welcome Samantha from Brazil who will begin by staying with my second host family, however her flight was delayed a few hours, so my host family and I left to go home.

     My new home is directly above the optical shop my host father owns. There are sort of three stories, but it is very open in the middle with stairs zig-zagging from one level to the other. From the garage you go up the stairs to the kitchen on the right, then more stairs take to to a main level with a family room area and both my host parents' room and my host brother's room, then some more stairs take you to the final level where my room is as well as a bathroom and a nice little terrace that is dominated by the clothesline. Hopefully some pictures will help to clarify what my words cannot quite describe:

This is the garage, which is openly connected to the rest of the house, from the stairs connecting the second and third levels. At the bottom left, is where the kitchen entrance is and that green line in the orange wall there is actually an opening above the sink.

This is from the third level looking onto the second level where you can see an orange sofa in the back and just behind that and a bit to the right is the door to my host brother's room. The last picture was taken at the top of the steps right in front of this one and ninety degrees to the left.

This is my bedroom before unpacking.

This is my bathroom which doubles as the shower. Yes, the whole room is the shower. Just to the left of the toilet you can see a little sprayer, that's your handheld bidet.

     So that's where I'll be spending the next three or so months of my life. And with a view off the terrace overlooking Mt. Merapi, I think that I will be just fine.

The Great Crusade

     "You are about to embark upon a great crusade, toward which we have striven these many months... The eyes of the world are upon you." -Dwight D. Eisenhower.

     Now I'm fully aware that Eisenhower was talking about the epic undertaking that was D-Day when he wrote those words, but I think anyone in a position like mine can appreciate them all the same. 

     Getting onto that plane in O'Hare was one of the biggest actions I've taken, and will spawn many more very important actions; but my exchange truly began nearly 10 months ago and I have been preparing ever since. Between interviews, conferences, and speeches, I've done a lot more than just hop on a plane to get here (here, by the way, is Doha, Qatar where I'm currently waiting for a 2am flight to Jakarta).

     I also didn't get on this plane all by myself. From Ed True, the Asian Southeast coordinator for Central States; and Dennis Swetlik and Kelly Mundell, district 6270's former and new chairs; to my family and girlfriend; and the other exchange students I'm seated beside, people everywhere have devoted themselves to helping me get here: the eyes of the world are upon me. And for that, I thank them.

     That's enough seriousness though. On a more down-to-earth note, flying with Qatar Airlines was pretty awesome (that pun was completely intended). The food was definitely the best airline food I've had, which I know isn't setting the bar too high but the lamb I had for dinner was solid. The flight was long, about thirteen hours, and I only slept for a couple hours, but it wasn't all too rough. Having the seat next to the window seat, I was still able to see the landscapes of Eastern Europe, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, and of course Qatar.

     Touching down in Qatar was something else. As we descended, we saw desert, just a lot of desert. But as we got closer we realized that there we concrete houses scattered about. They were clumped together with a bunch of desert in between, something like this:

Now this was cool and all, but what really did it was after another period of desert, there was this very new, very wealthy looking place. The picture is a little Bluetooth, but if it had a few more lights it very well could have been Las Vegas:

Actually looking at the picture doesnt do it justice, but suffice it to say that it was impressive.

     After landing and taxiing for nearly five minutes, we deboarded on old school stairways pulled up beside the plane. Mind you we were on a 777-300ER, which is huge. As we stepped out of the hatch, we were blindsided by scorching winds. It was if someone had installed wind tunnel fans in a sauna, and this is at 6pm so the sun is setting. We hopped on a bus which drove us pretty much everywhere possible in the airport I think, and eventually took us to the departure terminal where we are now.

     I'll give another update in a few days once I've made it to my final destination: Yogyakarta. T-five hours until our next flight.