I arrived in Jakarta, jet-lagged and sleep-deprived after almost 24 hours on planes and stop overs. The stiffling heat hit me. I gazed, uncertainly at the sea of unfamiliar faces at the arrivals, hounded by cries of, "Hotel," and "Taxi!". What should I do? Then a short lady in a suit greeted me- she was the rep, Enny from the Jakarta Education Office. She led me out into a smoggy exterior and we climbed on a bus. It dropped us off onto a busy dual carriageway and then she hailed a taxi (she said to only take a Bluebird taxi as they were the safest). She didn't say much to me.
We arrived at a dingy building called a Wisma Tirta where she left me saying I needed to call a taxi to take me to the Education Office tomorrow and she departed. I was panicked. The woman at the desk took me to a sparsely-furnished, grotty-looking room with a bed and a blanket and left me.
I let out the breath I seemed to have been holding since I left the plane. I tried to turn my phone on, desperate to see if my English sim would work here. There didn't seem to be a signal at first. I decided that after 24 hours without a shower, that that would be the thing to wash away the day of travel and fear of uncertainty. In the bathroom, I found squat toilet in the corner and a sink with a tap that didn't work. That seemed to be it until I noticed a small tap near the floor- I would just have to try and use water from that: even the bathroom made me feel like a stranger: I didn't even know how to use the toilet! (no flush, no toilet roll, just a little scoop.)
Perplexedly, I returned to the room and checked my phone and tried to send a message to my Mum, Step-Mum, Dad and boyfriend, hoping, praying it would send.
I needed some water but you can't drink the tap water in Indonesia. I wearily crept to the front desk where I tried to use the Indonesian I'd learnt before coming in order to purchase some water but it's very different using language cassettes on your own compared to speaking to a live person. We couldn't understand each other. I grew more and more upset and worreid as the 'exchange' continued but finally managed to buy a bottle. Shaken by this difficult exchange and the feeling of being a foreigner, I returned to my room and gave way to tears of pen-up misery. Why had I come? Why, why, why? What would happen to me? What was I thinking of, travelling to the other side of the world. I, who'd never been outside Europe and had never travelled alone, coming out to Indonesia of where I'd live, what I'd do, knowing nobody for a whole year of study in an alien country. For the first time in a long time, years, I prayed to God to keep me safe and sound, I wrote it in my diary too. I locked my door and curled up in my sheet sleeping bag from home trying to bear the heat and the 3 mosquitoes who plagued me. Thank God sleep overcame me.
When I woke, it was light, the next day. I turned on my phone to have received a mesage from my step-mum and boyfriend- It made me cry once more.
Somehow, with difficulty, I managed to get the still unfriendly front desk to call me a Bluebird taxi. Fumbling with unfamiliar money, I paid and went into the government building where I had my passport copied. The lady explained that I'd have to catch a night bus to reach Bali which would take 24 hours. She took me to buy some fruit and took some money to pay for my bus to Bali. Not knowing what to do or where to go, I returned in a taxi to my accommodation where I tried best to read.
The government lady told me that R, the other English student (who was studying in Java rather than Bali) would be arriving that evening. With hope in my heart, I sat on that humid veranda, reading a book with a heart pounding in anticipation, sitting there being bitten by mosquitoes. Finally, in the evening, Enny arrived with the English guy. As he came over to say Hello, to my mortification, I burst into tears. Poor guy, he was jet-lagged and there I was! He talked for a little while, he was really kind, and then went to his room to sleep.
The next morning, Enny arrived to give me my bus ticket and to take me to the bus station where I had to wait for 3 hours. It was busy and confusing and I sat there worrying, wishing, oh wishing, that I was back home! Here, more than anywhere in my life, I felt a complete stranger. All was alien, unfamiliar, loud, noisy, confusing and I felt wretched. What would happen to me?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
You may be wondering what this is all about.
It was Women's world day of prayer on Friday, and the theme was I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I attended a wonderful service, hosted by one of the local Baptist churches. The service was devised by Christian women in France and women in churches across the whole world would be sharing in this same service. We didn't have a guest speaker to give a talk like the service planned so they had the idea that instead, we would use the time to turn to the people on either side of us and share a time when we were made to feel like a stranger and a time we felt welcomed. We each had a ribbon in the French flag colours which we tied together once we'd talked and then we'd end up with a church all connected up by beautiful ribbons so we weren't strangers any more. It was a beautiful idea and really made me think of this time in my life that I hadn't thought about in a while.
It's getting late and it has taken me a time to write this so I will share how I felt welcomed, maybe tomorrow or very soon.
When have you felt a stranger?
We arrived at a dingy building called a Wisma Tirta where she left me saying I needed to call a taxi to take me to the Education Office tomorrow and she departed. I was panicked. The woman at the desk took me to a sparsely-furnished, grotty-looking room with a bed and a blanket and left me.
I let out the breath I seemed to have been holding since I left the plane. I tried to turn my phone on, desperate to see if my English sim would work here. There didn't seem to be a signal at first. I decided that after 24 hours without a shower, that that would be the thing to wash away the day of travel and fear of uncertainty. In the bathroom, I found squat toilet in the corner and a sink with a tap that didn't work. That seemed to be it until I noticed a small tap near the floor- I would just have to try and use water from that: even the bathroom made me feel like a stranger: I didn't even know how to use the toilet! (no flush, no toilet roll, just a little scoop.)
Perplexedly, I returned to the room and checked my phone and tried to send a message to my Mum, Step-Mum, Dad and boyfriend, hoping, praying it would send.
I needed some water but you can't drink the tap water in Indonesia. I wearily crept to the front desk where I tried to use the Indonesian I'd learnt before coming in order to purchase some water but it's very different using language cassettes on your own compared to speaking to a live person. We couldn't understand each other. I grew more and more upset and worreid as the 'exchange' continued but finally managed to buy a bottle. Shaken by this difficult exchange and the feeling of being a foreigner, I returned to my room and gave way to tears of pen-up misery. Why had I come? Why, why, why? What would happen to me? What was I thinking of, travelling to the other side of the world. I, who'd never been outside Europe and had never travelled alone, coming out to Indonesia of where I'd live, what I'd do, knowing nobody for a whole year of study in an alien country. For the first time in a long time, years, I prayed to God to keep me safe and sound, I wrote it in my diary too. I locked my door and curled up in my sheet sleeping bag from home trying to bear the heat and the 3 mosquitoes who plagued me. Thank God sleep overcame me.
When I woke, it was light, the next day. I turned on my phone to have received a mesage from my step-mum and boyfriend- It made me cry once more.
Somehow, with difficulty, I managed to get the still unfriendly front desk to call me a Bluebird taxi. Fumbling with unfamiliar money, I paid and went into the government building where I had my passport copied. The lady explained that I'd have to catch a night bus to reach Bali which would take 24 hours. She took me to buy some fruit and took some money to pay for my bus to Bali. Not knowing what to do or where to go, I returned in a taxi to my accommodation where I tried best to read.
The government lady told me that R, the other English student (who was studying in Java rather than Bali) would be arriving that evening. With hope in my heart, I sat on that humid veranda, reading a book with a heart pounding in anticipation, sitting there being bitten by mosquitoes. Finally, in the evening, Enny arrived with the English guy. As he came over to say Hello, to my mortification, I burst into tears. Poor guy, he was jet-lagged and there I was! He talked for a little while, he was really kind, and then went to his room to sleep.
The next morning, Enny arrived to give me my bus ticket and to take me to the bus station where I had to wait for 3 hours. It was busy and confusing and I sat there worrying, wishing, oh wishing, that I was back home! Here, more than anywhere in my life, I felt a complete stranger. All was alien, unfamiliar, loud, noisy, confusing and I felt wretched. What would happen to me?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
You may be wondering what this is all about.
It was Women's world day of prayer on Friday, and the theme was I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I attended a wonderful service, hosted by one of the local Baptist churches. The service was devised by Christian women in France and women in churches across the whole world would be sharing in this same service. We didn't have a guest speaker to give a talk like the service planned so they had the idea that instead, we would use the time to turn to the people on either side of us and share a time when we were made to feel like a stranger and a time we felt welcomed. We each had a ribbon in the French flag colours which we tied together once we'd talked and then we'd end up with a church all connected up by beautiful ribbons so we weren't strangers any more. It was a beautiful idea and really made me think of this time in my life that I hadn't thought about in a while.
It's getting late and it has taken me a time to write this so I will share how I felt welcomed, maybe tomorrow or very soon.
When have you felt a stranger?