On confusing my house maid

Yesterday my housemaid gave me lettuce.  This actually does have a story behind it and marks a significant step in our kitchen relationship.

I really enjoy cooking, even just simple things for myself, and living in Indonesia has not stopped me.  In contrast to my previous living situation in Jambi, I greatly appreciate the large kitchen equipped with a double burner stove and refrigerator at my current kos.  I know I could have hoped for an oven but that would have just been too much of a luxury, a microwave totally out of the question.

For dinner I continue to whip up mostly different kinds of stir fries, salads, and grilled vegetables, and only rarely when I do cook rice it is the less common red or brown rice.  To that you may wonder if I eat and enjoy Indonesian food, to which I would respond a definite yes.  Everyday at work the office cook creates a small buffet of delicious Indonesian dishes (plus our 3pm snack!) where I get my typical fill of grilled chicken, fried tempeh or tofu, vegetables cooked in oil, spicy sambal, and white rice, followed by some fresh watermelon or papaya.

My young housemaid, Saroh, is constantly perplexed by my recipes and every evening I can be sure I will have to answer the question “Apa itu non?” (What is that, miss?).  Her childlike curiosity is not that misplaced as she is practically a child and new to Jakarta from rural south Sumatra, but that’s another story to come.  So whenever I cook I show her the vegetables, condiments, and techniques that I am using and always offer her a taste.  In the past couple weeks I have shown her that bell peppers are in fact sweet and not frightenly spicy like she imagined, the sour taste of balsamic vinaigrette, that hot chocolate can be homemade and made to taste, that vegetables can be eaten raw in a salad with absolutely no rice or cooking required, and when cooked vegetables do not require salt or large quantities of oil.  Inevitable, at the beginning of my time here, was her other main question “Ngak pakai nasi non?” (Not using rice, miss?).  My meals that did not include rice stumped her and when I began to buy rice that was brown instead of white she accepted its higher nutritious value but did not endeavor to join me.

What this all boils down to basically is that at some level I have suspected that despite her sweetness, she thinks I am a little bit crazy.  The only foreigner living in our building I am the one who cooks funny things and is fun to observe.  Yesterday, however, was an adorable step when she excitedly announced to me that she had copied me and bought lettuce.  I replied in a joking fashion that she could make salads now and should use my oil and vinegar if she wanted.  That was apparently farther that she was willing to go and announced it was just to eat with rice and sambal (spicy chili paste), so it was really just a half step.  But she eagerly added, basically insisted, that I could use some of it too if I wanted.  So thanks to Saroh, today I am going to make a salad for lunch, and maybe bring our friendship just a little bit closer.