Jakarta We’ve been shopping for another second-hand car lately (am I supposed to call it “pre-owned”?). I find this an odious task under the best of circumstances, but it is made all the more so when I don’t know the conventions of such an interaction, have no idea what is a standard feature vs. an extra, and, of course, don’t speak the language. Our new driver, Bachtiar, has applied himself to the task of combing the newspapers and contacting would-be sellers. He arranged on Friday to have a gentleman come to the house so we could see his car. It wasn’t until he arrived that I learned that this was highly unusual. Somehow Bachtiar managed to get one other owner to do the same the following day – and these folks had to drive from nearly an hour away. I also spent a few hours driving around in Bachtiar’s micro-van and looking at other cars for sale by their owners. That his van was neither roomy nor air-conditioned was inconsequential; the bad part was leaving the window down in the stinky traffic. The busses are foul enough, but particularly offensive are the bajaj – small, orange, three-wheeled mini-taxis that trail noxious plumes as they whine through the streets. As it happens, I’ve learned we can get the best deals from within the expat community. There are enough people ending their assignments – especially during the summer – that we will surely be able to find a meticulously maintained and relatively new vehicle for several thousand dollars less than on the “open market.” In addition to Bachtiar, I’ve had a few other co-conspirators in this hunt for a car. We have come to know each of our three guards that rotate 24 hours throughout the week. Each of them seems keenly interested whenever there is discussion or inspection of a potential car. One afternoon I stepped out onto the front steps and engaged in another car-related discussion with Bachtiar and the guard, Jevri (pronounced “Jeffrey”). We stood, mulling things over for a brief while, and then I sat on the top stop. I didn’t realize it as they did it, but they had soon both dropped into a squat to continue the conversation. I suddenly recalled a societal rule here that one tries always to keep one’s head lower than the most important individual in the setting. After a moment I casually stood back up. They soon did the same. I’ll try to keep that one in mind. In a similar vein, we have become used to the sight of visiting workers and deliverymen padding around the house in their stocking feet. I have to feel pretty familiar with someone before I kick my shoes off in their home, but here one does not enter a home before removing the shoes. I’ll have to investigate the custom more thoroughly to find out just how widespread it is. I think it is the way of things in most Asian countries and may also be a feature of Islamic societies. Call us crass, ethno-centric, or uncouth, but we still stride right into our own house fully shod and keep ’em on for most of the day. We’ve gotten the school calendar and learned that Fall Break is set for 29 October – 6 November. Apparently, like Spring Break in the U.S., many folks will jet away on adventures at that time, making airline seats scarce and costly for those who haven’t planned ahead. As such, Alissa sent me a list of places she had quickly looked into as possible Fall Break destinations for us. Imagine my delight when I learned that the list included Phuket, Seim Reap (in Cambodia – home to the famous Angkor Wat temple complex), Shanghai, Beijing, Perth, Istanbul, New Zealand, and Zurich. Imagine my dismay, after a bit more research, when I learned how many people had beaten us to the planning stage, thereby making most of these destinations prohibitively expensive. Ah well, we now know how far into the future we must look. Besides, we’ll just go to Bali. Not a bad fall-back, I reckon. |