Well, when we last left our heroines, Miss Dani and Miss Ennik were frantically trying to prepare a turkey sans oven. Right.
Everything from the kitchen fiasco was finally moved to a new house and we got everything set up and ready to go. Dinner was obviously going to be on Christmas rather than on Christmas Eve like originally planned. We had a new place to stay, and we crashed hard as soon as we got there. This was a much better place than the other one. I called Mom and talked to her for a long time while it rained and thundered and I ate breakfast under the patio. I could tell that it was definitely going to be (for lack of a better word,) a different kind of Christmas. Ennik’s friends joined us for the day and it was nice to see Isna again and meet her other friends. (We visited Isna in Solo for Islamic New Year, where there was a parade with sacred buffalo and people fought over poop. Her son calls me “Tante Dani” and likes looking at pictures that we took.) We all spent Christmas day preparing a big turkey dinner and chilling. I never thought I would cook one, let alone 3 turkeys in a country where the birds are not native. I met a whole slew of people from the American Corner office, which is ironically situated next to the Iranian corner at the Muhammadiyah University Yogyakarta. I had Christmas dinner with an interesting group of people. There was a 3 year old Iranian boy in a Spiderman suit whose father kept reminding us that “Iranian people are Persian, not Arab!”, an Egyptian man who insisted that I DID remember the little Arabic I learned while in Spain, and a bunch of college boys that looked like punk rockers since they weren’t at their conservative school for the day, then there were the 5 girls: Me, Ennik, and friends. Seriously outnumbered. We went to Ennik’s uncle’s house for the night to crash and then take off in the morning for our Boxing day tourist extravaganza.
After all the time cooking on Christmas, we had a day of adventure. We went to Borobudur and to Prambanan, a Buddhist and a Hindu temple, respectively. We tried to leave from Ennik’s family’s house super early in order to make it to Borobodur for sunrise/before the flocks of tourists and the heat hit. Well, in Indonesia, my life is the definition of Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 2 AM and we’re driving. Pow. Tire not only goes flat, but falls off the wheel. I leave some of my stuff in the van and go talk to the police officer about finding a repair place that is open 24 hours. We’re not in a small city, but apparently AAA doesn’t exist here in any way, shape or form. No dice. We caught a bus a couple hours later, missed sunrise, and got attacked by both hawkers and the Indo tourists who have never seen a white person in their life. Seriously, I felt like Barbie at the end of Toy Story when she stops smiling. I took so many pictures with random strangers. It was cool though. Borobudur made up for the pushy tourists taking over the shoulder pictures of me and girls in jilbabs. Strange sight to you? Maybe I should post some of the strange sights I’ve taken pictures of. Or not. Goldfish on a motorcycle. I’m just saying.
That’s right. I went home to Surabaya. It’s home now.