City mosquitoes are just as dangerous

Last night I was visiting a friend's place and as we sat down to enjoy a few evening drinks out on the front veranda I asked where his roommates were.  "Oh, one is in the hospital with dengue," he replied. With a casual tone accustomed to Southeast Asian-induced disease and injury I responded, "Oh really? Where did she get it?"  But then he came back with "Oh, from here.  It's the fourth case of dengue coming from this house in two months."  And that was when I asked for some bug spray. 

I have been warned that dengue is endemic to Jakarta and is especially bad during the rainy season, which is right now and promises to last for like eight months this year.  But I still rarely get bitten and even more rarely think to use bug spray, I mean, who wants to soak in Deet for a year?  But the possibility of Dengue, a mere 10 minute ojek ride away from my own home, got me weighing my options a little more.  Particularly since I will be going on vacation tomorrow to more rural parts of Indonesia where mosquitoes also carry malaria. 

Touristy Bali is first on my itinerary (there is my yearly VIA conference to attend) but after that I plan on traveling east to Flores island.  For this trip I have instructed my visiting friend (Abby!! yay!!) to start taking some malaria medication.  I learned this lesson when my last friend to visit chastised me for being completely oblivious to the possibility of malaria (I had already been living deet and malaria free in Sumatra for almost a year) and not warning her to take any medication.  Sorry Claire, but at least Abby will benefit from the lesson you taught me.  So with this new perspective I am going to try to be a little more responsible than the last time I took a friend to the far reaches of Indonesia and also try to locate myself some malaria meds in Bali.  They should be used to uber-cautious Western travelers looking for malaria meds right?

The Umbrella Runners

Tonight I learned a new Indonesian term: ojek payung.  As I tell you the story, keep in mind that payung means umbrella and ojek is the term for the motorbike taxis that prowl the streets and particularly enjoying heckling white girls in their overly friendly manner. 

I could see the ominous dark clouds thicken as I walked to the grocery store but with Jakarta’s unpredictable weather I hoped the downpour would hold off for my quick trip to get dinner supplies.  When I emerged from the store though, I was faced with a torrential flurry of rain that showed no signs of stopping.  So I debated my options.  I could wait for it to stop, but that could take anywhere from 5 minutes to 5 hours and was looking to be the latter.  My other option was to answer the call of one of the little kids that were surrounding the store’s entryway equipped with oversized umbrellas and offered customers a dry walk to the bus stop or home.  I thought I would try it out and approached one, told them where I was going, and was handed the umbrella.  This little boy, who told me he was seven, shivered uncontrollably the entire walk home.  Even though I offered him to stay under the umbrella with me, he was soak through, and barefoot.  When we reached my gate, less than a five-minute walk I handed him 7,000 rupiah (about $ .70) and he ran off, presumably back to the store for another measly fare.  My friends at the kos were impressed I gave him so much, and told me that those kids are called ojek payung.  They live in our neighborhood and this just highlights one of the entrepreneurial activities that impoverished urban kids will do for a little cash.

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.