Megan’s blog

“Young people, Lord.  Do they still call it infatuation?  That magic ax that chops away the world in one blow, leaving only the couple standing there trembling?  Whatever they call it, it leaps over anything, takes the biggest chair, the largest slice, rules the ground wherever it walks, from a mansion to a swamp, and its selfishness is its beauty.  Before I was reduced to singsong, I saw all kinds of mating.  Most are two-night stands trying to last a season.  Some, the riptide ones, claim exclusive right to the real name, even though everybody drowns in its wake.  People with no imagination feed it with sex—the clown of love.  They don’t know the real kinds, the better kinds, where losses are cut and everybody benefits.  It takes a certain intelligence to love like that—softly, without props.  But the world is such a showpiece, maybe that’s why folks try to outdo it, put everything they feel onstage just to prove they can think up things too: handsome scary things like fights to the death, adultery, setting sheets afire.  They fail, of course.  The world outdoes them every time.  While they are busy showing off, digging other people’s graves, hanging themselves on a cross, running wild in the streets, cherries are quietly turning from greed to red, oysters are suffering pearls, and children are catching rain in their mouths expecting the drops to be cold but they’re not; they are warm and smell like pineapple before they get heavier and heavier, so heavy and fast they can’t be caught one at a time.  Poor swimmers head for shore while strong ones wait for lightning’s silver veins.  Bottle-green clouds sweep in, pushing the rain inland where palm trees pretend to be shocked by the wind.  Women scatter shielding their hair and men bend low holding the women’s shoulders against their chests.  I run too, finally.  I say finally because I do like a good storm.  I would be one of those people in the weather channel leaning into the wind while lawmen shout in megaphones: ‘Get moving!’”

-Love, Toni Morrison

First morning back in Florida.  It's 6am, I'm wide awake, eating corn tortilla chips and salsa...breakfast of champions.  I guess it's not that weird to have a whacked out schedule when there is a 13 hour time difference to overcome.  But it feels nice and a little strange to be home. 

Mom and Dad picked me up at the airport.  There was a spectacular sunset over Tampa Bay as we drove home.  Clear sky of orange, blue and pink.  Stopping by Granna's house for a great big hug and quick catch up.

Making it home, life is mostly normal.  The furniture in the front room has been rearranged a bit, twister is at the front door, ready to greet us as usual, my bedroom has a little extra space for my stuff and the bed is set up really high to accommodate all of the belongings I left here before going to Indonesia.  Sunflowers on the table to welcome me home and a "Welcome back, Megan! This is fun. We love you," message haphazardly arranged on the magnet board of my desk.  

I'm really comfortable yet somehow still anxious about being home.  What exactly is it going to be like?  What will I do next?  Who am I?  Haha, it's just time to take it slow and enjoy the familiarity of this life right now.  It is definitely going to be nice to get some solid quality time with the family.  I wish Aimee were here but I'll just have to go out to California sooner than expected to get her hug. 

I realize that I haven't posted in an eternity, blah blah blah, and that my positive intentions to give a full update on the past...let's say, 3-5 months?...i think?...is proving to be a difficult and improbable endeavor to achieve,.  So let's talk about today, because it was fun!

I went to Fuji Q (also Fujikyu) in Japan with Glenn and Rie.  It's a roller coaster theme park about 2 hours outside of Tokyo.  It was GREAT!  I haven't been to a theme park in a long time and I guess this might not be as "themed" as one might assume to find at Disney or the like, but the roller coasters were phenomenal.  Three really big ones: Fujiyama, DonDonPa and Eejanaika.  WHOA!  I wanted to puke after every one of them, in a good way. 

First was Fujiyama.  This used to be the highest roller coaster at 76m but some other one beat it by like a meter or something, regardless, it was so high!  Going up on the first *click click click* part (you know what I mean) felt like an eternity.  And the first drop made my stomach jump out of my throat and continue to do so for the rest of the ride.  I never thought that I was a "screamer" when it came to rides, but Fujiyama pulled the shrieks of fear and excitement out of my esophagus involuntarily. 

DonDonPa is the fastest roller coaster and Glenn and I were lucky enough to get the front row for this one.  It's not a very long ride but the speed freaked me out.  There is a tunnel that you travel through and I honestly felt like we were about to time travel, or at least that must be what it's like (if it existed).  And it also made me want to puke.  SO FUN!

Finally, the pinnacle of the day, Eejanaika!  First of all, we had previously tried to ride Eejanaika earlier in the day, it started to rain, so we got a fast pass to the front!  So, we bolted up to the front of the line, minutes before the park closed at the end of the day and got on the best roller coaster I've ever ridden.  Strapped in and feet dangling we were off.  You begin this ride backwards, climbing up the first section with no idea when the first drop will hit, and your seat throughout the entire ride spins around, goes upside down, backwards and makes you feel like you are in a total free fall most of the time.  It is so intense!  It scared the bajesus out of me and I couldn't walk straight afterwards. 

It was a good day.

Oh, I forgot to mention that MOUNT FUJI is within immediate sight of the park.  That's where the park gets its name.  It is so beautiful...and really really huge!  Most of the day it was kind of cloudy so I couln't see it at first, but when we rode DonDonPa, the top of Mount Fuji was clear for the first time all day.  The scenic background to the roller coaster  park was spectacular.  

I cannot contain my anticipation.  I want to explode.  It feels so good just to dream about it.  Now it is becoming a reality and it hurts.  I don’t think that I can let myself enjoy so much.  It is a pain that pulls so deeply.  My being cannot sustain this level of excitement for much longer.  I need the dream to be realized but I cannot envision its fruition.  I want to scream.  I want to cry.  I want to laugh.  I might die.  It is actually going to happen.  I am completely fanatic.

On my birthday a moment of discovery changed my life.  My friend Aga said to me that night, with great nonchalance, “Do you like Bjork?”  I couldn’t even answer this question before he hit me with the second blow.  “She will be in Jakarta on February 12.”  My mouth went agape and I was completely speechless.  I may have used this expression, “speechless,” to describe other semi-shocking moments in my life but never have I felt so deeply the inability to produce words or even sounds in any given moment as when Aga spoke these divine words to mine ear.  Bjork is in Indonesia when I am in Indonesia!  This may seem like a minor coincidence but in my mind it is a profound synchronistic moment in my life.  I am actually quite critical of most star struck people in the world but my level of awe is so great that all personal criticism and regular behavior has dissolved.  I just cannot articulate this feeling at all.  I have spent the past month carefully trying not to raise my hopes too high so as to soften the potential fall.  Indonesia is a crazy place so any plans that are made are always “flexible” (a.k.a. they might fail).  But in less that 24 hours I will be floating in a sea of auditory bliss with Bjork.  It is a reality that is really real. 

Tonight Nishita and I went back to Semawis for some more delicious Chinese food and to see Chinatown on a normal night without the craziness of the New Year.  Walking up and down the street, we were perplexed by the enormous decision of what food to eat.  Noodles?  Dumplings?  Soup?  Rice?  Simply too many choices for our indecisive bellies tonight.  There were a couple of street musicians out, even a few bands set up this evening.  One band of about 5 guys was performing a fantastic rendition of “Umbrella, ella, ella!” (a popular one in Indonesia at the moment).  A tent had a horrendous karaoke set (another inexplicably popular musical endeavor).  But the headlining street band of the evening was certainly the 8-piece bluegrass band.  I was shocked, stunned and awe inspired by there presence.  Therefore music lead us to our culinary decision as we opted for the best food closest to the music…Kwetiaw (thick Chinese noodles) and a Guava Juice. 

This band was honestly an authentic bluegrass band with two guitarists, fiddle, standup bass and some great bluegrass harmonization.  Sitting as close as possible to their tunes eventually one of the men came over to our table and asked if I could sing.  I actually wanted to but said that I couldn’t and proceeded to request the Tennessee Waltz, an old standard that they certainly would know and one that I could certainly begin to sing according to my own impulse.  They proceeded to fulfill my request and the guitarist and fiddle came over to our table as this sweet old Indonesian man started to serenade us.  The scene was surreal and I was completely transported to an alternate universe that I never would have imagined.  The moment presented itself as the perfect opportunity for me to make this serenade a full-fledged duet.  I proceeded to join the band for the rest of the song.  We attracted a pretty good crowd, hopefully for the music, as my new band for the moment and I belted the song out for a crowd of Chinese Indonesians.  Chinatown Bluegrass, I could never replicate such a unique experience.  I should write a bluegrass song to honor the moment…this is just a tribute. 

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!  It’s great to celebrate so many extra holidays that are normally not in my personal repertoire.  The holiday of the moment…CHINESE NEW YEAR!!! The Chinese New Year is a big deal in Semarang with the largest Chinese population in Indonesia.  Semawis (or the Chinatown Market) erupted into an even “huger” market this week in preparation for the New Year.  Garna, Nishita and I took to the streets of Gang Baru (Chinatown) Tuesday night to witness the ridiculousness and eat some delicious Chinese food.  Semawis is normally a place where food vendors and a handful of retail shops set up tents in the street and sell their wares at night.  There is music and lots of cheap Chinese trinkets.  On this night, however, everything exploded into a jam packed, action packed, people packed street of celebration and commodification!  Walk around to find traditional Chinese puppetry set to the tunes of blaring karaoke next to the Honda motorbike kiosk with 7-8 Hot Honda Girls and Hunky Honda Boys.  It is a clash of traditional holiday spirit and modern economic enterprise at its finest. 

We slithered our way through the river of sensory impulse with a carnival vibe to match and cotton candy around every corner and made it to some serious grub.  I ate siomay (pronounced show-mai); an assortment of steamed and fried dumplings, tofu, and potato, all doused in an ocean of peanut sauce to make your sweat smell subtly of peanut for a week.  It was great!  Garna sampled the pork plate with a side of extra pork and pork infused rice hidden under a mountain of pork.  Indonesia is not a very “porky” place in general as it is the greatest taboo according to halal, the traditional Muslim diet, BUT the Chinese in Indoensia LOVE pork.  This fact actually causes a great deal of culinary tension between Muslim and Chinese communities.  If you are in need of a serious pork “fix” in Indonesia, Chinatown or the Chinese New Year celebration is certainly the place to find it.  For 5 consecutive nights leading up to the New Year, Semawis is at your pork disposal.