Driving in Indonesia

The roads in Indonesia are a place where you can expect to see anything. You'll see trucks, buses, cars, motorbikes, bicycles and becaks. You'll see 4 people on one motorbike, kids not wearing helmets and children driving. As you are driving, any type of vehicle could pull out in front of you, you could find the road completely flooded, someone could open a car door without looking or a caterpillar chilling out on your handbrake could sting you (as I discovered a few months back). You will see people transporting anything imaginable by motorbike- a TV, a fridge, another motorbike even. Anyway, it’s crazy out there.

.

The first time I rode a motorbike was when I asked an old friend of mine to teach me how in a quiet housing area in West Surabaya. I was very nervous about it but was happy to be learning on a road with no traffic. Soon enough, that “friend” of mine directed me out onto a main road despite the fact I asked him to stay off the main roads. All I could do was scream “We are going to die! I don’t know what I’m doing!”. Not long after that, I was back in Australia and decided to practice there on an empty camping ground. It was much safe but nothing like Surabaya.  When I arrived back in Surabaya, I got a motorbike. The first few months of driving were a little stressful. I didn't know my way around and almost ended up in Madura instead of my house. I crashed into a brick wall at some stage, which wounded my ego more than anything else. Driving here took some getting used to.

Motorbikes can be used to transport anything

Organising a motorbike is also somewhat difficult for a foreigner as we are not allowed to own one ourselves. For the first 3 months I rented from a guy I worked with. He asked me to pay for $150 for 3 months straight up and he gave me a shiny Honda Revo. I really liked the bike and was happy with the arrangement. When I went on Christmas break, he asked if he could pick up the bike and get it serviced while I was away. It all seemed fine. When I returned to work in January I asked him for the bike back. He then explained that it was actually his friends bike and that friend had taken it back. He instead offered me a different bike to replace it. The new bike was an older bike, but initially I didn't mind because I didn't really care so much about what my bike looked like.

My beloved Crypton.

This bike soon became a problem as it would often die at traffic lights and be impossible to start again. Sometimes I couldn't even start the bike at all. Adding to that, it burned a lot of petrol when I took road trips out of town. It wasn't the best bike to deal with as a new driver. After 2 months of dealing with this bike and complaining about it at work on a daily basis, the guy I work with had the audacity to ask if I wanted to hire it for another month. I organized a new motorbike and stopped using the Crypton. I told the guy I had hired it from that he could pick it up from my house but it seemed that he didn't want to take it. It stayed there for weeks without being used.

Being one of the small percentage of Western people in Surabaya, I seem to attract a lot of
(mostly unwanted) attention here. While riding a motorbike, I have found that people will often start conversations with me on the road. People will yell things from trucks and cars sometimes. And occasionally you could be followed home. 

The first time someone followed me home, I started to notice him on my street but didn't know what to do. I was driving very slowly hoping he would overtake but he stayed behind me. When I stopped at the front of my house he slowed down, touched my breasts and drove off. A drive-by groping?

Another time, as I was driving home I noticed a guy on a motorbike stopped ahead of me at a set of traffic lights. He kept adjusting his mirrors and I could see him looking at me though the mirror. At the next set of traffic lights he stopped next to me and asked me where I lived. I lied and said the name of an area on the other side of town. I drove off and he stayed behind me. I was really close to home so I decided to take a few wrong turns. He was still behind me. I didn't know what to do so I turned into my street from the wrong direction and was travelling the wrong way down the one-way road. He was right behind me. I yelled at him to go stop following me. I pulled up out the front of my house and he stopped as well.

“Are you an English teacher?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Do you work at EF?”

“How do you even know that?” I asked.

“I followed you from EF. Can I have your phone number?” he asked. 

“No! This is my boyfriend’s house. You need to leave now! He will kill you.” I yelled. (I think I may have yelled many other things but I don't remember what I said.)

I was lucky that at that moment my former housemate Stinky Steve arrived home.

“You need to leave now,” I yelled again to the guy on the street.

I guess he assumed Stinky Steve was my boyfriend and left.

The police are another problem you have to deal with. I don't have a license and don't really try to not break road laws. Sometimes I will drive on the wrong side of the road, go through red lights or make illegal turns. It's just how this country works. Every so often, the police will stop you. The most effective way to deal with this is speak a lot of English because the police in Surabaya rarely can speak English. Eventually, they get confused and let you go. Sometimes you have to pay a bribe and the bribe you pay seems to be proportionate to how wealthy you look. For example, my Madurese ex-boyfriend used to pay about 30,000 rupiah, most people seem to pay 50,000 rupiah and my other ex-boyfriend paid 250,000 rupiah. When I got stopped by the police they asked for 500,000 rupiah and I argued it down to 100,000.

Sometimes I get frustrated with the police but it is a little stupid. I got stopped by the police in Australia for taking an illegal right turn in Clayton (I didn't even realise that I was breaking the law) and had to pay around $200 (or close to that amount anyway). In Surabaya however, after 2.5 years of breaking the law deliberately every day, I have paid just $10 to the police. 

Overall, I think driving here is great. You may need to think of a good strategy to deal with being followed and you always need to be careful. But once you silence that voice in your head that constantly tells you you're going to die, it's actually pretty fun driving here.

The last seven days

From my previous posts, you can see what happens when things get weird. It might paint a picture that things are always weird but I wouldn't say that weird things happen everyday. However, I would say it's probably more often that in most other counties. As evidence, I present this- a few little strange moments I have had in the past seven days.....

Friday

After posting on my blog on Friday morning, I left for work (as usual). It was an ordinary day at work. The day before I had received an Instagram direct message from the manager of my favourite band (NOAH) saying “do you like beer?” which eventually lead to an invitation to go for some drinks after work on Friday. Of course I agreed.

On Friday night, it turned out the manager was busy playing indoor football, so I went to a café with a friend instead. Later, as I dropped my friend off at home, I received another message from the manager of NOAH saying that he was back at the hotel. I asked him if it was okay to leave my motorbike at the hotel as I didn’t want to drive after drinking and I could easily pick it up from there the next day. He said it was fine.

As I reached the hotel lobby, I received another message from the manager saying  “sorry I have a meeting now, I can’t go out”. Well, these things seem to have a way of working out in my favor. Immediately, I ran into the guitarist and drummer of the band, who were drinking coffee in the lobby and I decided to have a drink and chat with them instead.  

Saturday

Straight from work, I headed to the NOAH concert at Makodam Stadium. I arrived three hours before NOAH were set to play so I knew I was in for a big wait. I’m used to attending concerts alone and it’s not really a problem because it is easy to find someone to talk to in Indonesia anyway. I sat on the ground and ate a chocolate muffin and eventually started chatting to some random people around me.

After a while, one of the event’s security guards started talking to me. He asked a lot of personal questions about my reasons for being in Indonesia, my dating history and why I have watched NOAH so many times. The problem was, everyone nearby decided to listen to the conversation and laughed at half the things I said.

“You can’t stand here” he said.

“Why not? I’m already here.” I replied

“Because you are different. It’s dangerous up here because a lot of people will push from behind.”

“It’s more dangerous back there because there are pickpockets, I feel safe up here with the real fans, I don’t mind if I get pushed.”

“You should climb the fence and watch it here with me.” he said pointing to the area directly in front of the stage.

“No thank you, I’d rather watch it from here” I said (of course it’s more fun to watch a concert with other fans right?).

“If you climb over, I’ll take you backstage to get a photo with NOAH” he urged.

“No thank you, I already have a photo.”

“You can meet NOAH again then!” he said

“I don’t think it’s fair because I have already met them before. Maybe take someone else instead” I said, trying to make an excuse.

"Well at least stand at the fence" he said indicating that I should stand in front of a girl who was standing there.

"No, it's okay. She's been waiting longer than me. I'm fine here, I've seen a lot of concerts and I'll be okay" I assured him. 

Eventually he left me to watch the show.

The show was good, but I did get pushed a lot, but that's normal concert stuff. A random guy let me get up on his shoulders. I saw the band members look at me and laugh. I saw the security guard from earlier and waved at him. While I was up there my favourite song came on and I danced like crazy until I realised there was a close up of me on the two huge TV screens at the concert. Then I realised how ridiculous I looked and got down.

Overall it was an excellent evening.

Sunday

Woke up covered in bruises and in a lot of pain, so stayed in bed all day (seriously the only time I got out of bed was to get the pizza I ordered from the front gate). I guess nothing weird happens if you stay in bed.

Monday

This was a really good day. Got a massage, went swimming, bought new sunglasses and ate cake. Nothing strange happened, just an awesome day.

Tuesday

As I was opening the front gate to leave for work a man riding past on a bicycle stopped out front.

“Australian dollar!”  he said

“What?”

He pulled out his wallet

“I have Australian dollars! How many rupiah to one Australian dollar?”

“I don’t know” I said.

“Can I exchange my dollars for rupiah?” he said

“I don’t need Australian dollars.”

“Okay, no problem” he said and drove away (no idea how he knew I was Australian).

Wednesday

I barely remember Wednesday, so probably nothing worth mentioning happened.

Thursday

In the morning, I went to collect my clothes from the laundry place. I have been going to Save Laundry every week for about 18 months. Today as I was collecting my clothes, the owner handed me a plastic bag with a bottle in it.
"It is happy birthday Save Laundry. This is Fanta. Thank you for being our customer" she said.
So apparently on the anniversary of your laundry place opening, you should give your customers free soft drink... Good to know.

The work day went by fairly normally...

As I walked to my motorbike in the parking lot after work, a guy looked over at me.

"Beautiful" he said.

"Oh thanks" I replied.

"You can speak Indonesian?" he asked.

"Yea I can" I replied.

"Where do you live?"

"Kenjeran" I lied

"How can you be so beautiful?"

I laughed awkwardly.

"Is your mother beautiful?" he asked.

"Yes..." I said and drove away. 

(By the way, these kind of conversations happen quite often).

So, I guess this actually proves that weird stuff really doesn't happen everyday (just 4/7 days). I'm totally ready for the next weird adventures.... 

People you'll meet at Circle K

I have two stories for you.

I was actually going to try to wait for a third story to add to these two, but seeming as I don't ordinarily hang out at Circle K, I would be going out to deliberately make something weird happen. I don't think that is the way I want my blog to be (my stories so far are just weird stuff that happened on its own). So, I have decided just to tell you the two stories. 

Both of these stories were set in Circle K (a small convenience store) on Sosrowijayan Street in Jogja. I should note that in Indonesia it's perfectly fine to drink beer outside a convenience store and you'll find many people enjoying a drink outside Circle K . Well, you would if you were in Indonesia in the past, mini-marts are now not allowed to sell alcohol :'(.

I'll also add that in Jogja there is a term called bule hunter (foreigner hunter?). I've never heard it used outside Jogja but perhaps it exists elsewhere too. Bule hunters are people who deliberately hang out in touristy places in order to hopefully meet foreigners. To be honest, I don't think it's really a thing, because people are just attracted to who they are attracted to and I think going to a strategic location to meet people who are attractive to you is actually quite smart. Perhaps, the two boys I'm going to tell you about could be considered bule hunters but I'm not sure. Whether they are or not, they're still weird stories. 

Without further ado, I'd like to introduce Luppa and Dimas.


Luppa

On evening, in early 2012 (just before my Summer romance story came about), Mel and I were sitting out the front of Circle K. We were enjoying a nice bottle of Mixmax (sugary pre-mixed vodka drink) and listening to the tunes from Bintang Café. We met some of the locals. One of which was a young guy named Luppa. Luppa was a travel agent in the area and seemed to spend a lot of time with young foreign ladies as he showed us many photos of his "friends".

Despite his many excursions with foreigners, Luppa claimed not to like foreigners at all. But apparently we weren't considered foreigners as we spoke Indonesian (side note: if only more people actually thought this, because I'm sick of being called a "tourist" in the city I live in). As the night went on and the music from Bintang Café ended, Luppa invited us to go clubbing. I’m not a huge fan of clubbing to be honest but we were on holiday and it seemed like fun.

We walked to Republik which is the closest club to where we were staying. Straight away, Luppa brought a tower of beer and poured Mel and I a glass each. We tried to refuse the beer, but Luppa insisted. I know he may have meant well, but as two girls alone in Indonesia, we decided to play it safe and throw the beer into the toilet.

“Wow, have you already finished your beer?” asked Luppa as we came out of the restrooms. “Are you already drunk?”

“No. Of course not. We have stuff to do tomorrow, so we can’t drink too much” I replied.

“Okay,” he said “If you really aren’t drunk then do you remember my name?”

“Luppa” I said. ("lupa" means forget in Indonesian)

“How could you forget it? I remember your name”.
I bet he has used that same joke 385495050434934 times.

After a bit of dancing and enjoying the sexy dancers at the (clearly extremely classy) club, Luppa seemed to get more confident. 

“Do you know Jack Johnson?” he asked Mel.

It seemed like the start of an ordinary conversation about music so she told him that she liked his music. 

“Do you know the song three is a magic number?”
He continued looking at Mel then over to me and smiling.

“Three is a good number yea?” he asked flirtatiously. Looking from Mel, to me and back to her again. He seemed to repeat his feelings on number three over and over and it seemed like he was hinting at something...

"Umm... I don't know the song," said Mel. 
(We still aren't really sure what song he was talking about but it seems like its a song called 'The 3 R's' which is about recycling, not what he was talking about).

Not long after that conversation Mel pulled me aside and told me what had happened.
“I think he just asked us for a threesome!” said Mel. “What do we do?”

“I think it’s time to leave now.” I said.

Mel agreed and we ran straight out of the club and all the way back to out guesthouse without ever saying goodbye to Luppa. 

Dimas 

I met Dimas (I'll use his real name because it's a super common name anyway) at the end of 2012. He was young, pretty cute and very artistically talented. He didn't seem to be super smart and his fashion choices were a bit weird (he was seriously wearing triple denim and a piece of rope as a belt when I met him) but he was nice enough to talk to.

Dimas- double denim version, outside Circle K.

I met Dimas a few times while I was staying in Jogja, I was travelling alone and my $6 a night hotel was 50 meters from Circle K. Dimas seemed to be there a lot so I chatted to him a few times as I was walking past. One afternoon, Dimas was there with his friends and he invited me to go to karaoke. I agreed as I had no other plans.

We drove there on Dimas's motorbike chatting along the way. Dimas had free vouchers to the karaoke place as he had painted a big mural on the walls surrounding the building. 
"You can pay for the food because I have no money." he told me rather directly when we arrived.
Of course, I didn't mind paying for some snacks but the way he asked was super rude. I decided not to make a big deal out of it and ordered a few snacks and drinks.
I thought Dimas's friends were coming but when we got there I realised it was just the two of us. The idea of two people singing karaoke for 2 hours seemed a bit grueling but I just went with it anyway.

Dimas requested the furthest karaoke room from the cashier and we went in. I started choosing all my favorite songs immediately and we sang a couple of songs. Then, Dimas kissed me. I was kind of taken aback by it and just ignored it and continued singing.
"Do you want to do it?" he asked.
"Huh? Here? What? This is Top 40 family karaoke. Family karaoke right? You can't do that!" 
"I've done it before, it's okay, I know the guys who work here." he said smugly.
"Uh...." I said completely stunned.
"The staff here know what we are doing, they won't come in" he assured me.
"We aren't doing any of that!" I said "Umm... let's just sing some NOAH..."
"I thought you knew that I was bringing you here for that" he explained.
"No... I would have never thought that...  I thought karaoke places were for singing?" I said, not really knowing what to do or say.
"Okay fine, let's just sing" he said looking disappointed.
We sang together for two uncomfortable hours. 

After that, we said goodbye. I returned to Surabaya soon after but we remained Facebook friends. I didn't talk to him because I was completely freaked out by the karaoke experience. But of course he didn't let it end like that. A few days later he uploaded a picture he had drawn of us together. The fact that I look ugly in the picture makes it all even worse. :(

Based on my studies, 100% of the people you will meet at Circle K are weird (but the sample size of 2 is a little small to be conclusive I guess). Overall, I'd recommend finding somewhere better to meet people, maybe I'll check out Alfamart next... 

To wear your heart on your tweet

One afternoon I came out and saw a guy standing outside my gate talking on the phone. As I got closer I realised he was pretty good-looking.

"Uhh… who are you looking for?" I asked him.

"I'm here to pick up Bethany".

I remember thinking something along the lines of “Whenever a cute guy appears here, it’s not for me”, which actually makes no sense.

“Come and sit inside, I’ll tell Bethany you’re here” I said.

We sat down in the couch outside my house. I may have mentioned before that in Indonesia, people who I have just met tend to ask A LOT OF questions. It feels like an interrogation sometimes, I think this time was the first time I was on the other end of the interrogation. For some reason I needed to know everything about him

His name was Rafi (fake name). He was 21 (I know, I know younger man), worked, studied and volunteered. He seemed so hard-working. He was very different to my last boyfriend and I think that was what was so attractive about him.

When he eventually left, I remember feeling sad that he was going so soon and secretly watching him leave from the front window. As soon as he left I looked for his facebook to find out if he had a girlfriend (I know this is pathetic but I'm just being honest).

We organised to work with the charity he was involved with and one night we had dinner with him and some of the other volunteers. I was trying to deny to myself that I liked him but the time I had spent deciding on what to wear and doing my make-up said otherwise. I guess I don’t often put on make-up to go to Warung Ijo.

We met a few times after that but I wasn’t really sure if he was interested. I found his twitter. Finding someone’s twitter account without them knowing is like having the power to read minds. And it did clear up a few things:

 Yes, he actually posted that on his twitter. Talk about wearing your heart on your sleeve. Actually I think if that expression was translated into Indonesian it would become "to wear your heart on your tweet". 

But finding out that he liked me was much easier than getting him to admit it. We met up about a week after I found this tweet. He was still weirdly shy around me but I was so happy to be near him. That day I watched him working with the street kids from the charity. More and more I was seeing how much of a good person he was. But still he never acted like he was interested. A few days after that, frustrated that nothing had happened. I took matters into my own hands and replied to his tweet about me. After that, we could finally line up our first date.

So our first date was approaching. He had given me the two options of "poetry reading with my friends" or something else. I opted for something else as the idea of the first date being with his friends was shocking. I don't quite know why he invited me to go somewhere with his friends but maybe he was just nervous and wanted his friends there for moral support? I soon realised that he was completely inexperienced with girls and I'd have to be patient.

The day of the big date approached.  I was seriously nervous. I was ready to leave about half an hour before he was supposed to pick me up (which is pointless in Indonesia as the guy is usually late anyway). 

When he arrived I relaxed a little. The date was quite good. He took my to eat bakso (Indo-style meatballs) which is one of my favorite foods. We got to know each other. We discussed deep things. We went cruising around. We ate ice cream. It actually felt beautifully promising.

When he dropped me off at my house he gave me a goodbye handshake which was quite weird but adorable I guess. Later he tweeted "I still can't believe what I just done tonight. . .haha". 

I guess this is what a modern day love story is. He didn't communicate with words to me. I knew how he was feeling through his tweets. He was too shy to tell me what he was thinking but it was no problem to tell the world in 140 characters or less. 

With him being such a multi-tasker, it took a week to get a second date. To me the second date is a make or break type moment. Most of the guys I have dated haven't gotten to the third date because I think you can tell if it's going anywhere by the second date.

Rafi came to my house, we went out to eat and then came back to my house. I invited him inside to chat. He initially refused to go in as he was "too nervous to meet my friends". After convincing him my housemates weren't at home, I wanted to give him a tour of the house.

Earlier that day, a bookshelf I had bought and (attempted to) assemble myself had fallen apart. I told him the story and opened the door to show him my bookshelf. He kind of hovered in the doorway.

“You can come in,” I said.

“I’m not allowed to go into a girls bedroom” he replied seriously.

“Huh? Who told you that?” I replied. “It’s just to look at a broken shelf…”

He still refused to come in.

“Uh… I have to go home now, my mother is home alone. I need to accompany her.” He said.

“Okay, no worries” I said feeling kind of frustrated, I’d waited a whole week to see him and we were only together for about 30 minutes.

So I opened the gate to let him out.
"Text me to let me know you got home safe" I told him as he drove off.

Two hours later he messaged me to tell me he was home. Obviously he wasn’t worried about keeping his mum company as there's no way it could have taken two hours for him to get home. It seemed that we both saw that things weren't great and that maybe we were too different to make things work. It was fine really, we had only been on two dates, we weren't really invested in it.

But it didn't end simply. Instead he ended it with the most hurtful words anyone has ever said to me:

Those words were so awful to me and made me so angry that I felt that I needed to do something horrible back. I decided that I didn't care what he was thinking anymore. I wanted it all to end. 

I unfollowed him on twitter.

Things are about to get serious

If there is one similarity I can draw between all of my dating experiences in Indonesia it is this: things seem to get serious fast. You would think the last thing you’d want to hear on a second or third date would be “I love you” but really… it can be much worse.

I have only had a couple of serious relationships here and those got serious pretty quickly. My second boyfriend Frans* and I only dated for a few months. Within those few months I remember having a conversation about our future children's names. He told me "Langit" (it means ‘sky’) would be a good name for out future son. It totally freaked me out even more that he chose such a strange name.

But don't assume that a relationship requires multiple months to get serious. One month is plenty of time. On the one month anniversary of the first date with one guy he planned a romantic treasure hunt with a couples T-shirt, rose, and cake hidden. Maybe this would be sweet for a (at minimum) one year anniversary gift but not for anything else.

But really you don't even need to waste your time dating someone to get that super creepy over the top experience! Actually you don't even need to pay attention to them at all!

Last year, Toni*, started working as a cleaner at my school. I said hello to him and smiled each day. It’s how I treat anyone in my workplace. He asked for my number one day and I didn’t see it as a problem because we worked together. He began to send me SMS’s for no reason- have you had breakfast? What are you doing? or Happy Saturday night. So many pointless messages. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I told him I did. It was just after I started dating Frans. One day, the cleaner messaged me and said “are you sure that Frans is the one you want to marry?”. Of course I wasn’t, we had been dating for a month or two. I think because I answered no to this question, Toni still thought he had a chance. He continued to message me regularly, when I worked at another school he came to find me there. He waited outside of my classroom and watched me teach for hours. He gave me a glass bracelet and a rose and invited me out to malls or to his house constantly. Even months after I stopped replying to his texts he still sends stuff such as a picture of him at work, a picture of him with a cat and a quote about how he will always be there for me even if I ignore him. And all this began from just giving someone my phone number.

Now you might ask, what actually would happen if you did reply to someone's messages after they had crossed the line? What would happen if you agreed to go on a date with someone like that? Don't worry. I have the answers. 

When I met Kevin* I had no interest in him whatsoever. He seemed super creepy. We started chatting on Facebook and as I got to know him, I realised he was okay. He did occasionally push the limits though. One Saturday night Kevin was talking to me about a new burger place that had opened up near my house. He asked me if I wanted a burger and when I declined he sent me a phone number saying I could use it at any time to order food from this burger place. He told me that I could SMS my order and directions to my house. I was a little suspicious because usually you can't order food via SMS. So, I saved the number to my phone and sure enough, the Whatsapp contact picture was him.

Eventually, I agreed to go on a date with him (now I don’t really know why). It went okay though he seemed much more serious about the whole thing from the beginning and he was quite concerned that I wouldn't want to go on a second date. A few of our chats after that were a little strange. He asked why I was "wasting" so much money on travel and how much money I had saved up to buy a house.

 Not long after that I was due to go home to Australia and Kevin offered to drive me to the airport. In the car, he seemed a bit worried. 
"What's up?" I asked.
"I have to save 100 million rupiah" (approx. AU$10,000) he said.
"What?" I replied "why do you need so much money?"
"So I can pay NOAH to perform at our wedding." He replied casually.
Huh? We had been on one date!

We cut contact not long after that. He had told me that he had fallen in love with me at first sight (which I don’t believe in at all). I told him I wasn't sure about things at all. He accused me of neglecting him. I accused him of smothering me. I guess we both reached the conclusion that we were too different (well I hope he has reached that conclusion anyway).

What I have concluded so far from my dating experiences here (though I don't want to generalise because I haven't dated every Indonesian guy {yet}) is that it is going to get serious. You won't have time to think about whether things are going well or not. Before you realise that you are in a committed relationship you will be talking about weddings and houses and babies.

Thank you guys for supporting my blog, I can't believe it but last week I went over 1,000 views. Thanks so much for reading these ridiculous stories! 

*All fake names

Finding my soulmate (part 2)

This is the continuation of this post from 2 weeks ago. 

Two weeks after I returned from Palembang, I had my appendix removed. While I was in hospital people kept making jokes about me finding my soulmate in hospital, which I found ridiculous (I wasn't exactly looking great in that hospital gown). A few days after I went home from hospital, I had to go back in for a check-up.

I was sitting in the waiting room about to see my doctor when a young guy walked in. He was tall, chubby and had short hair. He's not the kind of guy I would usually be attracted to but for some reason he caught my eye. We looked at each other and smiled. After talking to someone at the reception desk, he walked back to the area I was sitting in and sat two chairs away. I wasn’t sure if I should make conversation with him but for some reason he seemed interesting to me even though I couldn't tell what attracted me to him I kept glancing over at him in the waiting room.

After a couple of minutes he looked over at me.

"Why are you here?" he asked awkwardly. To be fair to him, I'm also not sure about the best way to start a conversation in a hospital.

"I just had surgery and I have to see my doctor," I explained.
"Oh, okay," he said "Are you a teacher?"
"Yea, I am," I replied. It's not surprising that he guessed that as most Westerners in Surabaya are English teachers.
"Do you work at EF?" he asked
"How do you know that?" I asked laughing.
"I just guessed. Do you know Alex who works at EF?" he asked.
"Yea!" I said "How do you know Alex?"

“I met him when I went to Palembang. We were on the same plane and shared a taxi” he explained. For some reason I started laughing a lot when he mentioned Palembang. 

“Ohh you went to Palembang?” I said still laughing (which probably made no sense to him).

“Haha yea I did” he said smiling.

“Are you from Surabaya?” I asked him.

“No, I’m originally from Palembang.”

By this point I was giggling a lot. Was this guy my soulmate? I didn’t know what to do. I knew pretty soon I would be called in to see the doctor and I also felt that it was too fast to ask him for his phone number.  We kept talking for a few minutes and sure enough I was called to see the doctor.

The whole time I was with my doctor I was just silently praying that my soulmate would still be in the waiting room by the time I finished. I didn’t ask many questions, I just wanted to get out of there quickly.

When I returned to the waiting room, I immediately looked for him but he was gone. I hadn’t even gotten his name and he was gone. I wasn’t ready to admit defeat though.  I went downstairs to Excelso cafe and sat there hoping I would see my soulmate before he left. I was drinking my coffee when I heard someone say "hey Samantha!" I looked up and saw one of the nurses from the ER. 
"You're not crying today?" he asked laughing.
I told the nurse I was feeling better and continued to drink my coffee while waiting for my soulmate. Then I remembered that he had mentioned my friend Alex. It seemed like a long shot but it was the only link I had to him. I messaged Alex and explained the situation. Five minutes later and I had my soulmate's phone number. 

Suddenly, I felt weird about the whole thing. Could you really just meet a random person in the hospital, ask your friend for their phone number and then message them? Even if they are your soulmate, is it still weird? I wasn't sure that I wanted to message him anymore. Instead, I messaged my friend and housemate Joy:

I just met a guy, He's my soulmate. Details over tea and Tim Tams later.

Fast forward an hour or so and I was sitting on my couch with Joy, drinking tea and eating Tim Tams. I told her the story of the morning. I still wasn't sure whether I should message him but with Joy's encouragement I decided to do it. 

Turns out he is a nice guy. His name is Irvan. He's pretty cool. He actually has a girlfriend which is fine with me. Just knowing I don't have to fly across the country to look for my soulmate again makes me happy. Also, dating my soulmate seems like too much pressure for now. In all, I'm just happy to know my soulmate. Not many people get to meet their soulmates so I consider myself lucky.

Of course I haven't told Irvan that he is my soulmate. I feel it'd make things much weirder than they need to be (hopefully he never sees this blog). The pictures in this post are pictures of him from his Instagram, I specifically chose photos that would protect his identity (really, really hope he never finds this blog). 

I hope this blog post brings you guys hope. Sure, you can fly across the country to find your soulmate. You can join any dating website you want. You can talk to many random people in nightclubs or bars (I think this is how normal people get dates). But the thing is, maybe it won't happen until the time is right. Maybe finding someone means your appendix has to almost explode. Life is unpredictable. Also, even if you do meet your soulmate, you don't need to date him. You can date someone else or noone (like me). Just enjoy life with or without your soulmate basically. Have a lovely weekend my dear blog readers. 

Bye bye appendix.

In the early hours of the morning one Friday two months ago, I woke up in pain. I thought it was just food poisoning initially (it happens a lot) but it didn't go away after two hours (and possibly got worse) so I went to Siloam Hospital.

In the ER. I was given a bed and some medication. When the pain didn't go away I was given more medication. I described my symptoms as well as I could, though I feel like my medicine-related Indonesian vocabulary isn't quite where it needs to be. They asked a lot of questions. One of the doctors asked me if I liked eating spicy food, actually his exact words were: "do you have hobby to eating much chili?". I was confused by this question but later found out that many Indonesian's believe that appendicitis is caused by eating too much chili, as the chili seeds fill up the appendix. Next, a nurse came to ask some questions. 
"Are you married?" she asked with a very serious look on her face.
I told her I wasn't and she left. Right after she left I realised that she wasn't really trying to ask about my marital status but more about the likeliness of me being pregnant without saying the words. A few moments later, a doctor came in. 
"Excuse me, I have to ask you a personal question. I'm sorry." He said. I felt a little confused that he was apologising, a normal part of being a doctor is asking personal questions right?

"I just wanted to ask if you have had sex?" He asked awkwardly. I almost wanted to laugh because it seemed funny to see a doctor struggle to ask such a basic question. I convinced him that I couldn't be pregnant and he left still looking like he felt quite awkward.

The pain continued. By now it was a reasonable time of day so I messaged my friend Joy and she came to the hospital (I have good friends YAY!). The doctor told me I needed to have an ultrasound. I was in a lot of pain but it seemed like there was a long wait. A nurse came and asked Joy to go with her. Apparently, she tried to get Joy to pay for my hospital fees up to that point. This is what annoyed me the most about the hospital. Firstly, they weren't set up to deal with patients directly and they seemed to rely on you having family there to sort out payments and wouldn't communicate directly to me as the patient. They repeatedly asked me where my family was during my stay and opted to communicate to my friends (who mostly aren't fluent in Indonesian) rather than to me. And secondly, the importance on the payment- they wouldn't do much until someone had paid for it even though I couldn't really leave without paying anyway. Eventually after a lot of confusion, they agreed to let me pay for my ultrasound later. 

I went in and took the test. I guess it was a normal ultrasound, but I'm not really sure. It was kind of cool to see all my internal organs at least. The ultrasound man pushed really hard on my stomach with the probe and then would say stuff like "does it hurt here?" but I think it would always hurt because he was pushing really hard. He did find the problem with my appendix and sent me away with a cool photo album of scans of inside of me.

After that, I had to go pay for my test. It seems ridiculous that I was in that much pain and they still had me go to the front counter to pay for my scan.  When I went back to my bed in the ER, someone else was already in it. I was told to go to another bed. 

I was in so much pain, possibly the worst pain I have ever felt and I have 8 tattoos and have had a root canal without any anesthetic (yay for Indonesian dentistry), so I know real pain. Joy started talking about some stuff in an effort to distract me from the pain. She was talking about boy stuff. I was trying to think of something encouraging to say to help her with her boy problems. Instead, I vomited. 

Not long after that, I was told that I would need surgery. I responded by acting very strong. I definitely didn't cry and certainly wasn't begging them to let me go back to Australia to have my surgery. Eventually (after a lot of encouragement from friends) I agreed to have surgery in Indonesia and was admitted to hospital. The hospital gave me a cute welcome pack with random stuff like a mug, toothbrush, comb and a thermometer.

After that, Joy had to go to work and there I was in the ER still crying like a baby and waiting for my bed upstairs to be ready. Random people kept staring at me which made me even more uncomfortable. I had some colleagues from work come to check on me and I was waiting for my friend Intan to come and see me. The doctors and nurses kept asking me why I was crying. I guess I was worried because I don't really trust the doctors here. A few months ago I was trying to find an explanation for a stomach pain. The doctors seemed to get the diagnosis completely wrong and one doctor even told me I had a high temperature when my temperature was 36.7 degrees. I wasn't really confident in the doctor's abilities.

Finally, I was moved upstairs to my bed. I was in a room with 6 other people and they all seemed to have a million guests visiting each of them. It was not very comfortable. I hadn't had any gall day and now I wasn't allowed to because they wanted to do the surgery that night. I felt freezing cold and terrified about the idea of having surgery in Indonesia. My friend Intan visiting was a welcome distraction but I felt much more worried soon after when I met my anesthesiologist. She seemed extremely arrogant from the moment she walked into the room.
"Do you have a stomach ache?" she asked me.
"No I don't anymore." I answered
"If you don't have a stomach ache, then why  are you having surgery?" she asked.
"I don't know... I think the pain only stopped because of the medication"
"Did it hurt here?" she asked while pointing to her lower stomach
"No the pain was up higher" I answered showing her where it had hurt earlier.
"But the appendix isn't up there. Why are you getting your appendix out then?"
"Why are you asking me this? I'm not a doctor." I asked frustrated.
"Okay, later I will put a needle in your back before the surgery." she said.
"What? Why do I need a needle in my spine?" I asked
"Don't worry it doesn't even hurt" she said and left.
I wondered why she said this because her visit only made me more scared about the surgery and dread the idea of a needle in my spine. 

Later, not long before my surgery, my friend Oliver visited. It was good because I had someone there right before the surgery. He left when the nurses came in to shave the lower half of my body (which was super weird as well). Then, I was wheeled into the surgery room.  

I felt like there were a lot of people in the room but mostly they were nice. As I mentioned before, I have 8 tattoos and most of them are related to Indonesia. The nurses helping to prepare me for surgery were quick to notice them. One of them sang "Garuda di pahaku" (garuda on my thigh) dramatically after seeing my tattoo of Garuda Pancasila. Next, someone noticed the tattoo of the map of Indonesia which is located exactly where my appendix is. 
"Your tattoo is right where we need to cut! What should we do?" a nurse asked.
"Well, you can't really cut from the back, right? So I guess you will cut though my tattoo." I answered.
"But your tattoo might get ruined" he said
"There's not any other option really." I said.
I saw the anesthesiologist from earlier come into the room. 
"Hello!" she said "I'm here to give you that needle in the back." It almost felt like she was enjoying making me scared.
The nurses rolled me onto my side to prepare me for the moment I had been dreading. The anesthesiologist noticed a tattoo on the side of my body.
"Oh nice komodo!" she said "you like Komodo island?"
"That's a crocodile!" I said truly worrying about her intelligence if she couldn't even identify a picture of a crocodile. 
"It's Surabaya!" said one of the nurses "there's a shark and a crocodile. It's Suro-boyo!"
The anesthesiologist next noticed a tattoo on my back. 
"What's this?" she asked reading the words of my tattoo "It sounds lebay!". (lebay means something like over the top or excessive)
I found the way she was talking to me so rude.
"So what if it's lebay?" I said as she put the needle into my spine.

Soon the lower half of my body was completely numb and I couldn't move at all. I heard the doctor and nurse discussing where they were going to make the incision.  I wondered why I was still awake.
"We should start here at the bottom of Sulawesi, cut below Kalimantan towards Sumatra" I heard someone say. I'm glad my tattoo gave made things easy on them. Soon I could tell from looking at the reflection in the light above that they had made the incision. 
"Can you feel anything?" asked the anesthesiologist. 
"No. Can I just go to sleep now?" I asked. It seemed like a better idea than having to talk to her.
"Soon" she replied.

The next thing I remember was waking up. The first thing I saw was my appendix. A nurse was holding it with some tweezers right in front of my face. 
"Look how big your appendix is!" he said energetically. 
"Oh, yeah... that's nice..."  I said sleepily.
I was moved to a recovery room where my friends entered not long after. I felt so relieved that I was alive and all I could do was laugh. The doctor soon made my friends leave and I tried to sleep a little.

Soon, when I was able to move my toes a little, I was moved back to my hospital room. Joy was there waiting for me. I was so relieved to see her.  Because I couldn't move, the nurses had to basically roll me into the hospital bed which was actually pretty funny. Joy had brought all the important things someone needs in hospital: some clothes, socks, a book and most importantly some Tim Tams.

I was woken up many times during the night for tests and stuff. I remember one lady who came into my room.
"Do you want a bath?" she asked.
"What time is it?" I asked sleepily.
"4:00 AM' she replied.
"No one wants a bath at 4:00 AM" I said and fell back asleep. 

When I woke up in the morning, I asked a nurse if I could eat and drink yet. Soon I was given some soggy rice to eat. The hospital food was awful. I asked the nurse if I could eat some chocolate instead but she said told me just to eat soggy rice and porridge for a week. I decided against this because from what I read online I should resume a normal diet after 24 hours and also because soggy rice is gross.

That day, I had a lot of visitors. I got sent flowers from work and my housemates also came with some flowers. My other housemate brought me food (which was amazing). In the evening Joy came with our friend Billy and our housekeeper Parmi. Parmi started crying when she saw me even though I told her that I was fine over and over. She seemed very worried about me. I had kept my appendix in a jar to show her because the day before she had suspected that my pain was caused by "eating late" and I wanted to prove that it wasn't.
My mum said that it was gross that I had my appendix in a jar but I was determined to keep it forever. Mum said that it wouldn't be allowed into Australia which made me imagine myself at customs trying to argue that I had it with me the last time I flew to Australia (although it was inside me then) or that they had to let me bring it because it was Australian made.

The next day, I was told I was allowed to leave. I woke up early because I was excited about going home. I had a shower, got dressed and got all my things together. Then, I waited and waited. Apparently, you can't leave the hospital until your insurance has cleared and those sort of things seem to take forever. The nurses weren't paying much attention to me and I had nothing to do except play on my phone and that was definitely boring. I was hoping to leave before lunch time so that I could eat some normal food but sure enough at 12:00 PM they brought out some soggy rice and fish. I decided not to eat it. Instead I made a cup of tea and when the nurse wasn't looking, I did a Tim Tam slam (biting the ends of the Tim Tam biscuit and sucking the tea through it to make it all melty on the inside). Much better.

That afternoon, I finally left. I left behind the weird questions, the old ladies in my hospital room, the soggy rice and my appendix jar. I had some siomay and did other stuff besides playing with my phone. It was definitely great to be home.

Mostly, my recovery was smooth aside for some bloating that made me look several months pregnant like in the picture above. I actually got worried that I was somehow pregnant but luckily I could check the photo album I got after my ultrasound for proof. The scar between Sulawesi and Sumatra is healing well and my tattoo is definitely not ruined. The best thing that came from this all it that now no matter where I go in the world, a part of me will always be in Indonesia- my dear appendix.