We hopped in a bemo (a cramped little van that serves as public transportation; it can get a person across town for 30 cents, as opposed to $5 in a taxi) and headed toward the so-called "Arab market," which is, of course, located right next to Chinatown.
We visited two markets: a small one selling some clothes and other items, as well as massive amounts of dates and golden raisins, which are somehow important to Islamic culture; and a sprawling market filled with spices and other food, most notably garlic.
While Rowan was paying for some cinnamon sticks, an old woman tried to take the money out of her hand. We then had a small group of women following us for a little ways just repeating, "Money. Money. Money..."Rowan and our friend Sinead also were groped and grabbed several times, always by women. I don't think they thought it was a pleasant experience.
After we walked out of the market, we wandered the neighborhood for awhile. The locals, when they noticed that I had a camera, would insist on posing for pictures.
Also, the locals like saying any English they know, even if it is not contextually accurate. I was walking down a narrow street when a truck passed slowly by. A man leaned out the window, waved, and yelled, in a friendly manner, "Hello, Mister! Non-smoking!" He nodded happily and waved again. (I will point out that I was not smoking anything at that moment.)I had some amusing little conversations with my small amount of Indonesian, though some people would just randomly answer with their little English. For example, I would say, "Apa kabar?" ("How's it going?") Sometimes the response would be, "Yes?"
And the entire day we heard, "Good morning!"
After the markets and the neighborhoods, we wanted to walk to the nearby cigarette factory. However, we found ourselves on the wrong side of the river, so we needed to take a boat across.
Local price for the ferry is 500 rupiah. The first ferryman quoted us 5,000. This seemed a little absurd. We went to the next ferryman, who quoted 1,000. This seemed like a more reasonable foreigner markup.The cigarette factory offers random art exhibits in partnership with the French Cultural Center. Currently, they have a photo exhibit on loan from France.
We also took a brief look at the cigarette museum. I was surprised to find that Indonesia is only the fifth largest cigarette market in the world. Everyone here smokes constantly; I expected us to be higher. (In the 2008 rankings, WHO places us behind China, the US, Japan, and Russia.)We then went for ice cream. Because Rowan loves ice cream. This was followed by a movie (Yes Man with Jim Carrey; it sucked, but movies are only $1.50 during the week and $2.50 on weekends here) and even more ice cream.
While we will never love Surabaya (it lacks good bars, comfortable cafes and coffee shops, and events such as concerts and art exhibitions), we are becoming more comfortable here. It was good to see another part of the city, and to get a feel for the ways of life. I don't feel that I can ever truly understand the people here or have a completely objective view of the culture, but I think it's important to expose myself to as many different aspects of the city as I can. We can't spend a year in a bubble; that would make this year almost worthless. So far, I feel like we are getting a lot out of the experience.
***
Chinese New Year is fast-approaching. We have no school on Monday because of the holiday. For the long weekend, we are heading to Madura, a somewhat large island just north of Surabaya across a narrow strait.
The Madurese are somewhat distinct culturally from the Javanese; they are known for bull races and their jamu, or herbal love potions. Madu is the word for honey, and some people say the island's name refers to the sweetness of the women.
Our travel guide offers minimal information about the island, so we will leave it behind and do things the way people did things before travel guides: by talking to people. This should be a good chance to practice and polish our Indonesian speaking skills.
Wish us luck.
1 comment:
good luck
Post a Comment