Little America

Gah! So much to blog about! I want to relate the great adventures of Bali, but I'm waiting some pictures to illustrate (curses on me for forgetting my camera). I do, however, have pictures of my apartment and my address for those of you with sour gummy candy that you need to dispose of...just saying ;).

Here's said address (obnoxious, but true):
Bellagio Residence 26th Floor Tower B no 17
Kawasan Mega Kuningan Barat Kav E4.3
Kuningan Timur Setia Budi Jakarta Selatan 12950 Indonesia
(Yes...just like the casino)

When I signed up for this program and discovered I'd be moving to Indonesia, visions of grass-roofed huts surrounded by rice paddies danced in my head. There are no grass-roofed huts in Jakarta, at least none that I can see from my 26th floor balcony. I'm almost embarrassed to post these pics knowing what I know about some of the other fellows' not-so-distant-from-hut accommodations. But I promised pics, and they know who to call if they need an escape.

This does bring about a great internal struggle - if you will bare with me as I *gasp* complain about being put up in a brilliant high rise in the center of modern living. The biggest problem - I duck my head, hands raised in protection against the backlash from using words like problem in this context - is that it is located in the middle of modern living. I call it "little America." There is, no joke, a Mexican, Japanese, and Indian restaurant in my building. Also, you can find a Baskin Robbins and Starbucks in short order. I don't know the exact percentage of foreigners to natives in my building, but I would say we're on top. Nearly everyone speaks at least a little English. I really have to initiate speaking in bahasa Indonesian if I want the practice. (Although - quick anecdote - when my friend Nalini came to pick me up and asked about me at the front desk, their reaction was, "You mean the American girl who speaks bahasa?" - YES!!! Jackie -1, Little America - O).

Don't get me wrong. I'm so grateful to have such amazing accommodations. I know the objective is to do the best job we can while we're here and that begins by having our basic needs met. I know I will kiss my tiled floors when I come back from a losing battle at the grocery store or hug my flat screen LCD TV after being stuck in traffic for two hours. I know all this. But, part of me wonders how different my experience would be if I were situated in maybe a less swank house but surrounded by Indonesian neighbors, markets, and kids playing in the street. What would it be like to actually be submerged in the culture? Of course, I'll do what I can to make sure I'm not cloistered in my bubble; I'll find a compromise. But, I still can't help but wonder...maybe next year.