seems to be stopped between stations, so I guess I have the time.â
âThank you,â she said. âBeing uncomfortable is being away but I feel okay because I know youâre listening. And no matter what goes on when I think alone, Doc, it is always different to announce it.â
âIâm listening,â he said.
Chapter Fifteen
âI used to waitress at this place called Captain Mikeâs Seafood Restaurant right near City Hall. I made between two-fifty and three hundred a week, so it was a good job. My girlfriendâs name was Lucy and she used to live in Indonesia. Ever since I met her she wanted to go back and visit. So, every week I put fifty dollars into the Dry Dock Savings Bank, scrimped on everything, and when I had enough saved up to make the trip, I quit.
The flight time was too long. First it took eight hours to get to Amsterdam and then twenty-four more to get to Djakarta, with stopovers in Frankfurt, Rome, Abu Dhabi, and Bangkok. The major event of every international airport is that theyâre all the same. There are duty-free shops in all of them and they all have the same stuff. There are former colonials in all the duty-free shops and they all like to smoke in the no-smoking section. Lucy and I survived the trip and were still friends. At two-thirty a.m. Abu Dhabi time I asked her what Indonesia was like.
âItâs hot and very beautiful,â she said.
âBut, I mean, whatâs happening there?â I said. âWhat are the current questions?â
âI donât know how to describe it,â Lucy said.
We got off in Djakarta and stepped into this incredible heat. We were in it. There were loud motorbikes and clove cigarettes. The city had these massive dull white buildings, half postmodern Moslem, half Hyatt hotel. They stick up here and there. People jump onto overflowing double-decker buses. Entire families get on one zooming
Honda bike. There are people in sarongs, in blue jeans, selling fried bananas and TDK receivers. One thousand rupiah equals one dollar. The hotel room cost five thousand including fan, mosquito net, and papaya. Our first meal of Nasi Goreng with hot sauce and shrimp cracker was sixty cents. I took out my Indonesian phrase book.
âThe people here are so beautiful,â Lucy said.
âYeah,â I said. âSome of them are very beautiful. How do you pronounce this, Apu Ka bar or Apu Ka bar ?â
âI donât know,â she said. âWhat does it mean?â
â How are you . Didnât you learn any Indonesian during the year that you stayed here?â
âNot really,â she said. âThe family I lived with spoke English.â
âOh.â
It started getting dark and we were walking along the railroad tracks. We were in a slum, I guess. There were lots of small shacks crowded together, garbage everywhere, naked children, and howling, mangy, mongrel dogs. Every other shack had a TV set. It was like Avenue C with no winter and not being afraid of your neighbor.
We walked along until a kid came up and said, âHello, mister.â
âHello, mister,â said another kid.
âHello, mister.â
âThey think weâre men,â I said.
âNo,â Lucy answered. âThey think that means hello .â
âI guess there have been too many misters here,â I said.
The next day we took a thirteen-hour train trip across Java to Surabaja - eighteen thousand rupiah for second-class with air-conditioning. Third-class sat on bamboo benches sweating, and the last car carried refrigerators and color TVs. In Surabaja there was a stifling two-hour wait for the bus so we ate some more Nasi Goreng and smoked clove cigarettes.
âThat man looks so much like Mansur,â Lucy said. âSo many men here remind me of him. I have to be firm with his family and tell
them as honestly as possible that I am not going to marry him and Iâm not going to Australia to
âThank you,â she said. âBeing uncomfortable is being away but I feel okay because I know youâre listening. And no matter what goes on when I think alone, Doc, it is always different to announce it.â
âIâm listening,â he said.
Chapter Fifteen
âI used to waitress at this place called Captain Mikeâs Seafood Restaurant right near City Hall. I made between two-fifty and three hundred a week, so it was a good job. My girlfriendâs name was Lucy and she used to live in Indonesia. Ever since I met her she wanted to go back and visit. So, every week I put fifty dollars into the Dry Dock Savings Bank, scrimped on everything, and when I had enough saved up to make the trip, I quit.
The flight time was too long. First it took eight hours to get to Amsterdam and then twenty-four more to get to Djakarta, with stopovers in Frankfurt, Rome, Abu Dhabi, and Bangkok. The major event of every international airport is that theyâre all the same. There are duty-free shops in all of them and they all have the same stuff. There are former colonials in all the duty-free shops and they all like to smoke in the no-smoking section. Lucy and I survived the trip and were still friends. At two-thirty a.m. Abu Dhabi time I asked her what Indonesia was like.
âItâs hot and very beautiful,â she said.
âBut, I mean, whatâs happening there?â I said. âWhat are the current questions?â
âI donât know how to describe it,â Lucy said.
We got off in Djakarta and stepped into this incredible heat. We were in it. There were loud motorbikes and clove cigarettes. The city had these massive dull white buildings, half postmodern Moslem, half Hyatt hotel. They stick up here and there. People jump onto overflowing double-decker buses. Entire families get on one zooming
Honda bike. There are people in sarongs, in blue jeans, selling fried bananas and TDK receivers. One thousand rupiah equals one dollar. The hotel room cost five thousand including fan, mosquito net, and papaya. Our first meal of Nasi Goreng with hot sauce and shrimp cracker was sixty cents. I took out my Indonesian phrase book.
âThe people here are so beautiful,â Lucy said.
âYeah,â I said. âSome of them are very beautiful. How do you pronounce this, Apu Ka bar or Apu Ka bar ?â
âI donât know,â she said. âWhat does it mean?â
â How are you . Didnât you learn any Indonesian during the year that you stayed here?â
âNot really,â she said. âThe family I lived with spoke English.â
âOh.â
It started getting dark and we were walking along the railroad tracks. We were in a slum, I guess. There were lots of small shacks crowded together, garbage everywhere, naked children, and howling, mangy, mongrel dogs. Every other shack had a TV set. It was like Avenue C with no winter and not being afraid of your neighbor.
We walked along until a kid came up and said, âHello, mister.â
âHello, mister,â said another kid.
âHello, mister.â
âThey think weâre men,â I said.
âNo,â Lucy answered. âThey think that means hello .â
âI guess there have been too many misters here,â I said.
The next day we took a thirteen-hour train trip across Java to Surabaja - eighteen thousand rupiah for second-class with air-conditioning. Third-class sat on bamboo benches sweating, and the last car carried refrigerators and color TVs. In Surabaja there was a stifling two-hour wait for the bus so we ate some more Nasi Goreng and smoked clove cigarettes.
âThat man looks so much like Mansur,â Lucy said. âSo many men here remind me of him. I have to be firm with his family and tell
them as honestly as possible that I am not going to marry him and Iâm not going to Australia to
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