A visit from the grandparents

When I woke up this morning to lively chatting out in the living area of my apartment I assumed it was just a friend of Povi’s coming over for a morning gossip session.  When I went to make some coffee I was thus surprised to see two elderly Indonesians and a box full of snacks and fresh fruit and vegetables spread out on the floor.  Povi introduced the elderly couple as her grandparents from Kerinci who were going to be spending the next night at our place until her aunt came to pick them up.  They were quite adorable, surprised by everything about me including that I am the same age as Povi, I don’t need to eat rice everyday, I speak English, which is the same as “American,” and that I can already speak Indonesian too.  Communication with them was somewhat comical since Povi had to almost shout the local dialect so her grandpa’s almost-deaf ears could understand.  I however, only speaking Bahasa Indonesia and a little Bahasa Jambi could not understand this rather rough sounding Bahasa Daerah (local dialect).  When Povi then boasted that she could speak five languages, Indonesian, Jambinese, Padangnese, Kerincinese, and English I had to agree.  I have heard Indonesia boasts over 700 living languages.

So once again I find it necessary to mention how incredibly close Indonesian familial relationships are and that any sense of imposing on one’s family members is unheard of.  What?  Who needs respect of privacy?  I thought this culture odd when I first lived at Sumi’s house as it challenged my comfort when everyone from close to extended family members seemed to constantly be dropping by and I would enter the TV room to see any assortment of relatives I knew and some I had yet to meet.  Povi tells me she has even an even closer family though and the cramped space of our apartment is only saved by the fact that most of her family still lives in their village in Kerinci, West Sumatra.  Nevertheless, her aunt/cousin (yes, inter-family marriages still persist in isolated villages) only lives an hour away and thus frequently drops by for any number of days; and just like at Sumi’s house the family flocks toward the TV.

Another element of family visits is the box of food gifts that come with it if the family has to travel any distance to visit.  On domestic flights here you will see many Indonesians carrying boxes tied up with colorful string and I have no doubt it is food stuffs for their familial hosts.  Not having my own family here I have found it advantageous to be present when one of those visits/gift deliveries occur- I am invariably laden with my own bag filled of goodies from the box.

In addition to snacks of salak fruit and cassava chips, on this family visit I was also treated to stories of the old couple’s Hajj trip last fall- the price of which is now up to a staggering $4,000 for Indonesians who may spend their whole life saving for this exceptionally important pilgrimage.  Grandma told me that the Americans they met in the Holy Land were extremely generous and kind while the Indians they saw were pushy and very “black.”  Fortunately, in grandma’s own words “Orang Indonesia kecil kecil, cabai rawit,” roughly translated as Indonesians are small like chili peppers, so they may be small but are still spicy- possibly the cutest thing to hear from a little seventy-something year old woman.  She then proceeded to show me how her shortness allowed her to squeeze her way through the crowds all the way to the front.  Indonesians are very aware of their short nature but in this case it happened to come in handy.  If you have even seen photos of the vast crowds of pilgrims at Al Haram Mosque it is undeniably both awful and inspiring, making her actions even more humorous to imagine.

So I may be spending the rest of the day chatting with these old gems who have already invited me to their home for Lebaran next September and to a traditional ceremony in the village next weekend.