Well on Friday we moved all of our stuff out of the hotel and went to the VSO office. We had the usual day lf briefings before the afternoon we had a fun trip to the police station to register (everyone has too I’m not some sort of deviant!) which was a subtle mix of dull form filling and general intimidation.
After this we went to a motorbike shop which was an embarrassing experience. VSO provides all volunteers with a good quality helmet even if you’re not riding in case you have to be a pillion passenger. However as many of you know I actually have a freakishly large head so this was a long process, they kept bringing out helmets and had to keep sending them back saying “no we need bigger!”. I actually had to try on quite a few before I found one that fit my giant noggin, I could see the staff sniggering in the back and pointing to me.
Having bought my XXXXXXL helmet we were dropped off at our homestay’s where each of us will live with an Indonesian family whilst in Bali. I was the last to be dropped off and as soon as I got out the car Badra charged over and grabbed me by the hand enthusiastically showing me my room/flat. My first impressions were that it was quite nice however I didn’t have long to form this opinion.
With another burst of enthusiasm, which I suspect he is frequently prone to, Badra asked if I wanted to be shown the way to the language school so I’d know when I went. I expected he would show me on Saturday but with just enough time to grab my oversized helmet and he took me outside onto the back of one of the tiniest scooters known to man. He then drove me to the language school, a 5’8” Indonesian man in his late 60’s/ early 70’s with a 6’2” blonde European with a huge head (and helmet to match) hanging on for dear life, bumping along the road with the suspension being crushed under the strain. It also allowed me to experience the terror of pulling out and turning in Indonesian traffic, I’ll admit more than a few prayers were offered each time this happened.
Most of the weekend has actually been spent on mundane tasks such as washing my clothes (by hand in cold water) and alike. On Friday night I managed to get lost and walk what felt that half way across Denpasar before finding my turning only to then get lost in the rabbit warren which is the side streets round here. Having wandered round for an hour or so I began to consider that dying alone and lost was a real possiboility, I got a text from a friend back home asking where I was in Indonesia, a cruel twist considering I had no idea where I was at that moment in time. Eventually I made it home only to find that I had to undo the most tricky padlock in the world.
Saturday night I met up with my fellow volunteers and realised that I had been making a massive mistake for the past few days. I have no shower here instead I have a mandi (strange sort of mini bath with a bucket to pour water over yourself (see picture) and I have almost killed myself a number of times climbing up to stand in it to wash myself (which is about 3 feet of ground) and I had wondered how other, shorter folks managed. The other day my foot slipped almost causing me to do a naked splits with one foot still in the mandi, something I really would struggle to explain in a Indonesian casualty ward. Alas as I’m sure you guesed, I found out from my fellow volunteers that in fact you don’t stand in it but instead next to it and then wash yourself.
Anyway, I’m sure you’re all bored of this or already stopped reading. Hopefully this should be posted on Monday when I set up my blog (hopefully). Got my first language school on Monday.
1 comment:
It's like a melon on a toothpick
It's got it's own weather system!
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