Nongsa

On Thursday I tell Ms. Yeni I need to get some work done on Friday. She says she understands. Instead of getting work done I spend Friday being driven back and forth in the rain to Immigration for more visa business. Ms. Yeni comes along in the morning and comments on how tired I look. I not only look tired, I am exhausted. I need some time alone to recoup and am looking forward to an afternoon of reading and writing. But at 11:30 Ms. Shanty tells me the man I need to see is leaving for Jumu^ah prayer so we will have to come back at 1:30.

Late afternoon, when I finally arrive home, I make lemon tea with Sumatran honey and settle down to write. I haven't yet finished my tea when Ms. Yheni is at my door.

"Ms. you get your things together. We go to Ms. Kahlo's tonight. She is cooking Javanese rice. We will spend the night there with her daughter and then go to Nongsa in the morning."

I am completely appalled by this presumptuous plan. I try to explain that I have a Sunday deadline for a story if I want a chance to get paid for it and I don't have time tonight.

"Okay, so we don't go to Nongsa."

I have been trying to go to Nongsa to kayak since holidays began but either the weather is no good or Adik can't make it and asks me too wait. I smile and say, "No, I will go to Nongsa tomorrow. That's why I don't have time to go to stay at Ms. Kahlo's tonight."

Indonesians are incredibly social and I can see that what I'm saying is utterly incomprehensible to Yeni. Ms. Kahlo, upon hearing that I won't be able to make it, insists on delivering dinner. It's delicious with a liberal peppering of guilt.

At 7 o'clock in the morning Ms. Kahlo and her family return to pick us up and we all go to Nongsa. We stop at the village first, which consists of dilapidated huts, some traditional Indo architecture and a very dirty beach so we don't stay. From there we drive to Nongsa Resort which is owned by the parents of one of the students in our school. I am taken around and shown all of the facilities -the "campground", the apartments, the conference room, the chalet. I am served a fresh squeezed papaya slushy and repeatedly asked if I like everything. I smile and nod, "It's very nice." but I am bored and restless. And they don't have kayaks, so we drive to Turi beach.

Yeni and Vanni want to try kayaking. I am happy to teach them but I want to paddle to the river and I know they won't be able to make it that far. As someone who has spent so many years alone, one of my biggest challenges is letting go of my own wants in these situations. I've never done well in groups.

Yeni is terrified the moment she touches the water and it only takes twenty minutes for the girls to decide that they're not leaving the shore. I show them basic swimming strokes to practice, I explain how to safely navigate waves so they can practice paddling too, then I hop into a kayak and paddle out to sea.

The sea rocks with a different kind of current and motion than a lake. I try not to think about sharks. It takes half an hour before I reach the river and when I do two ferries bear down on me. I am forced up against the riverbank to ride out their wake. Looking two stories up at the crowd gathering on deck to watch me I feel unspeakably small but, once I've past the terminal and under the bridge it's easy paddling through the mangroves listening to the jungle birds serenade while lizards jog along the shore.

On the way home Vanni falls asleep on Yeni's shoulder and Yeni says, "We are very lucky."

I'm not sure why she says this but I know she's right.

Bahasa Word of the Day: ke sini/ ke sana = come here/go there