9/12/2012

9/12/2012

 

Do you ever wake up one morning and instantly want to leave reality again and go back to sleep? Well that would perfectly describe this morning. I am not really sure what made me upset today, or why I couldn't fake being happy but, I guess today just wasn't my day. It all started with a terrible nightmare, the way I dream throws into question my sanity occasionally and this nightmare was no exception. I woke up in a cold sweat- thirty minutes late because I still don't have an alarm clock and Diandra forgot to wake me up. I got dressed, ate breakfast and rode to school. The bell at my school is Beethoven's Fur Elise (no I didn't know that I had to listen to a bunch of classical music before I found it) and today it sounded louder and more off pitch than ever. I dropped my bag off at my first period and went to the assembly. Maybe it was part fear that I would get dizzy again, part claustrophobia from everyone standing a little too close to me part panic attack but, I felt nauseous again. I had to keep my mind busy, I drew letters on the ground with my foot, anything to keep me from completely panicking. When the ceremony finally ended I went to English class. For today's lesson we had to read an article on hobbies and then answer a lot of questions. I finished in about ten minutes and then spent the rest of the three hour class letting the other students copy my work and doodling. If only I spent more time doodling in America, I might be better at it, right now I just sign different people's names and rewrite the lyrics to my favorite songs. Some of my classmates insisted on looking over my shoulder and staring at my boredom doodles but, when I tried to look at something they were writing they would shy away and cover their paper. I guess I sort of felt like an ant under a magnifying glass, with everyone watching me until I burnt up and died. Class seemed to go on forever. When it finally ended one of my friends took me to buy snacks and then go to my math class. On our way we met some of my other classmates who all waved and asked me if I remembered them. I am sorry! I can't remember the thousand people who have introduced themselves to me in the last month! I am trying to remember a whole new language plus the thousand names that are completely different from American names- which just makes them that much harder to remember. I had to try not to cry in frustration when people kept asking my "do you remember me?" "DO YOU REMEMBER ME!?""DO YOU REMEMBER ME!!!!???!!!" and then looking really disappointed when I did not remember their name, they would tell me their name again and tell me "don't forget ok?!!". I guess last week I was in the wrong math class. Darn, I was too happy about being put in trigonometry. I got to class when the teacher finally showed up (twenty minutes late) I was already feeling apprehensive about the class. He asked me a couple of questions, none of which I knew the answer to and then he started talking in Japanese. When he switched back to Indonesian I still didn't know what was going on. He started writing on the board and my heart sunk... one of those gut wrenching.. oh why me? sort of moments. The word that made me want to give up was not quite English but it was close enough I understood what it was.... Statistics. Well Darn. Darn. Darn. The only math that I haven't taken because I wanted to be a stupid over achiever and take Calculus instead, and the only math that is primarily word problems, which I can't read. I'm sure that it is easier than American math but I have no idea what I even need to learn. It took me at least ten minutes to get over this huge realization and to start taking notes. I didn't know what my teacher was saying or writing but, I figured that I would just translate my notes later. None of the other students were taking notes so, I figured that it must be some sort of review. Later, during the lesson, the teacher stopped and asked me a question about math. I had no idea what he was saying, so I told him I didn't understand to which he made some snide comment that made the class laugh again. Only five minutes later he stopped and asked me another question, mind you there are thirty kids in the class but he can't call on any of them he has to call on me.. the only one who doesn't understand.. great. I thought I might have understood what he wanted me to do so I tried to clarify in English and he totally backed off. So, at least I have a plan of attack, he asks me a question in unbearably fast Indonesian that I can't possibly know the answer too and I talk back in the fastest most confusing English I can muster. True, I probably won't do this but, it had been a long day and I was "pissed off and mad" (Miss Congeniality). I suffered threw the lecture and then he just left. Gone. Just like all Indonesian teachers, they do their lesson and then disappear, leaving the class to have 'free time'.  When he left the other students started copying the notes off the board. And with this action came another realization for the day. Most Indonesians attack life with about the same attitude as my block English class did everything in that class. For those of you who were not in that class let me explain. If something should  take you ten minutes, you drag it out as long as possible to a solid hour. In America we are so conscious about our time and spending it wisely, here I spend more time at school doing nothing than having a teacher teaching (or in the room at all). Luckily, my last class of the day was canceled so I got to go home. As I was walking down the halls I tried to ignore the now familiar jeers, taunts and nervous hellos from all the students. I got outside and waited for my driver. I talked to some other people who were on their lunch break. Everyone is so excited to talk to me and it gets tiring. One of the boys who I have never met before told me that he reads my blog and that he is waiting for my new post so I should start writing. I know that lots of my Indonesian buddies read my blog because many of them are friends with me on Facebook (I except all requests because I can't remember who most of the people are so I just accept them).  I told him that I was really busy and that I would write it when I get around to it. It was really frustrating to have someone come up to me, who I have never talked to before and tell me that he knows me and that he expects something from me. I know he was trying to be nice but it still tweaked my nerves a little. I really don't care who reads my blog, but I don't really want to talk about what I write. I just want to vent, to use this boyfriend as the perfect  surrogate boyfriend, if you will. Anyway I was still waiting and I was starting to worry that my driver had forgotten about me. I would have walked home but, I would feel bad if he came late again and a repeat of yesterday happened. Finally our house maid rode up on her bicycle and told me that the driver was busy and couldn't pick me up. Then she called a bus like thing over, handed me a thousand Rupiah and told me to get on. I did not want to get on, in fact I walked past it but she saw me and made me get on. I was only nervous because I didn't know how much to pay, or where it would take me (the buses have no routes or schedules and you just have to know). The maid told me to get off at the Indomart but I didn't know where that was. At least she said it loud enough that one of the other ladies getting off  told me to get off the bus. I only rode for 45seconds, it was literally down the street, it took my maid more time to make me get on the bus than it would have taken me to walk. Then she rode her bike just ahead of me to make sure I knew the way home. I know the way home, I have done it before and I even know how to cross a street but, she still helped me. The trip home felt longer than usual and I immediately went upstairs changed and laid down on my bed. I wasn't tired but I was stressed and my heart was thumping loudly the way it only does when I am one wrong word away from blowing up. So I sat in my room listening to music until I decided that my blood pressure had returned back to normal. When I emerged from my room there was nothing to do, my host Dad was working in the office with his employees so I returned to my room and watched Dear John- just so I would have an excuse to cry a little. The movie had twenty minutes left and was really getting good when the stupid illegal movie stopped working and refused to play anymore. I guess I was really just one of those days. It was my Host Mom's birthday today so when she got home from work we celebrated. My grandma and cousins brought over a pizza from Pizza Hut. At first I was really excited, but then I tried the Pizza. It was gross, it was covered in chili sauce and other things that should never go on a pizza. I could only eat one piece, it was so weird to eat such a popular American dish and dislike it so much. We got out the cake and....... drum roll please.....it was ok. Not great, and it would not by any stretch of the imagination win any award but, it was edible. It was more of a thick fudgy thing but, it wasn't poisonous so that is good news. I ate a little then excused myself from the table. And now I am sitting in bed feeling better that I got all of this bad day out of me and that I am now able to move past it. I really do not want any messages telling me to hang tough or deal with it, I'm doing just fine, we all have our off days.

 

9/12/2012

 

I'm still alive. Haha (I love you Dad) Oh and I didn't get in a fight with anyone.  Thanks for reading, I love you all! :)