I tilt my head back in the salon chair and wait for the cold water to hit my head. And all these memories wash over me.
Please excuse my very corny, clichéd analogy—I get this way whenever I move. There’s something comforting about cheesy “Friends are friends forever”-type songs and heart-felt cards written by hand […]
We had only been living on this little Indonesian island for a couple of weeks, but I noticed it right away. The prolonged stares, every pair of eyes on me in the parking lot as I tried to back out of a difficult spot, people pointing me out to their friends and yelling “Hello Mister,” […]
It all took some sorting out. My Indonesian friend kept going on and on about some mutual friend of ours who is sick. I kept smiling, nodding, trying to figure it out, feeling stupid. But I didn’t recognize the name.
And then I realized she was calling our friend by one of the three different […]
When I was getting ready to move to Indonesia, I was willing to give up pizza, my mom’s dirt cake and one-stop trips to Wal-Mart. But I had one hope in return—a fruit tree.
Any type of fruit would do—bananas, pineapple, coconut, or something else I didn’t yet know existed.
Thankfully, I ate pizza the first week […]
“Anyone want to go to the pasar with me?” I occasionally ask the kids.
Their answer? No whoops of joy, no hollers of “yes, Mom, please!” Just moans, groans, and fists beating the floor.
I get it. The pasar, or open market, is not the most enjoyable place to visit. It stinks, there are puddles […]