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April 2015

So today marks my first month officially living in Jakarta.  To give you an idea of where my perspective is from, it would appear necessary to give you an idea of my life journey, briefly of course.

I was born in Jakarta, left the country when I was 8, sent to study and live in Singapore.  I used to return home back then, at lease once a year and so although I was imperceptibly losing my ‘Indonesian-ness’, it was a slow process.

Then at almost 17, I left Singapore for the U.S. and more specifically to the West Coast, to study and live in the then not-so-hip Pasadena.  As it was much further to fly from the U.S. to Indonesia, home visits became rare.  I believe that it was then that my loss of ‘Indonesian-ness’ truly sped up and became very apparent, if not almost permanent.  I came to speak English with a thick Californian accent and lost more and more my ability to speak Bahasa Indonesia.

I then left Pasadena to study and live in France, in the beautiful city of Tours.  As I had then left with very little money, I could no longer afford to return to Indonesia and my ‘Indonesian-ness’ was lost for good.  Alone in a city where there were, at that time, very few Asians, I became ‘French’.  My English took on a more British flavour and my French became native-fluent that fooled even the most observant French person.

After years there, I eventually returned to Asia, via Hong Kong, where I was expatriated for work from France, ironic as that seemed.  I came to love Hong Kong and ended up living there a little over 20 years.

I only left Hong Kong because I thought it time for a major change in my life.  I could continue to live there as it was an easy county to live in with personal safety and fantastic infrastructure.  But when the calling comes, one often feels the need to respond.

I responded by deciding to return to my ‘village’ of Jakarta, much to the shock of a great many people, my parents included who by now had believed me a foreigner to the end of my days.

And so here I am now, arrived at my one month of living in Jakarta.

Having lived practically from the age of 8 outside of Jakarta, I am experiencing what most foreigners call, culture shock.  I have become so… not-Indonesian that I am now learning again to be one.  I feel foreign in the company of Indonesians and my Bahasa becomes all jumbled up when I feel nervous.  I feel like an impostor pretending to be Indonesian when actually I am only one by nationality – a bad actor caught in an unsuitable role.

So here are my learnings:

Patience is a definite virtue here in Indonesia.  Having lived in a fast-paced country like Hong Kong for so long, I have literally had to slow myself down.  No amount of my worrying or hurrying can make anything move faster here.

Time is ‘ethereal’.  It doesn’t really exist in the sense where people have no notion that it actually does.  Every appointment is tentative and being late is acceptable and not frowned upon.  Not showing up for an appointment is not cause for alarm nor an end to business dealings.  The massive traffic jams here have become the perfect and normal excuse to give for tardiness and widely accepted.  Time has no value.  It exists but is stretchable and not respected.

Expectations are very different here.  My apartment needs work and although the it appears ‘liveable’, many things does not work and are missing – hot water, toilet roll holders, clean shower head, oven, stove top…  In Hong Kong, all this would have taken a maximum of a week to buy and install.  Here, it is now a month and the apartment is still not ready.  The reason of course is culture.  One cannot expect people who do not use toilet paper to understand the need of toilet paper holders.  The same goes for shower heads.  Why would that be necessary when most people take bucket showers?  It goes without saying that hot water is used mostly for brewing hot drinks and cooking, not for bathing.

It is humbling for me to realise that what I had taken for granted for so many years is now moot.  Everything here is different.  The good thing is that it obliges me to pay attention to details and to rely on my own observations to make the necessary and needed changes.  I cannot expect anyone to want the same things I want.  People are content with imperfection, have accepted the state of ‘not-quite-right’ and are patient with mistakes.  It is for me to find an acceptable middle ground for myself.  In fact, it is necessary if I am to make Jakarta my home for the years to come.

I look at my relatives and realise that they are great examples of the result of living in Indonesia all their lives.  They are easy-going, do not fuss, do not get upset when things go wrong or do not happen, do not appear aware of the need for order, discipline and rules.

In order for me to live here comfortably, i will have to throw away all my notions of ‘what is right’.  Rules do not matter here.  I have to learn to live without rules and just ‘wing it’, to not be upset when someone cuts the queue, talks loudly in the cinema or when an appointment does not even bother to show up.

This is a major adjustment for an ‘older’ woman who is detailed-oriented and used to order, discipline and just getting things done right and efficiently.  I have to prove to myself that an ‘old’ dog can indeed learn new tricks.

I am an Author and Motivational Speaker.

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