I have two funny little stories for you that have happened
in the last couple weeks built around the theme of communication
difficulties. So often (pretty much
every day) there is some sort of communication breakdown that happens between
me and the culture I live in, whether it’s someone from the local
phone/internet company calling yet again about a promotion, and me trying to
explain I’m not interested, which usually ends with me hanging up on the
well-meaning person due to my hopeless lack of understanding, or trying to
decipher the concerns of our yard guy (is he telling me there was someone on
our driveway that he told to go away, that is afraid there will be someone on
our driveway coming up to bother me, or is he talking about dogs-not really
sure). Anyway, talking and understanding
is always an adventure here, both from a language and a cultural perspective,
and these are a couple instances I had to share because they made me
smile. Here goes…
A couple weeks ago Chris came home from work saying “I have
a surprise for you!” This is always
exciting because it often means delicious pineapple from the jungle or maybe
other assorted yummy fruits and vegetables.
Before he pulled out the gift he told me the story behind it.
Chris had told one of the ladies in a village he frequently
flies into that he wanted to bring some fresh flowers to his wife, and since
fresh flower bouquets are pretty well impossible to come by in Tarakan, where
we live, he wondered if she would be willing to cut some for him from the
jungle where she lives. She was happy to
help and assured him she would get a bouquet.
When he came back to the village a couple weeks later she made sure to
find him and was excited to give him the bouquet she had worked so hard to
get. He was surprised when she handed
him these…
 |
| My "fresh" bouquet of plastic "crystal" and metal flowers |
When Chris pulled them out to show me I had to laugh,
somehow the “fresh” part of the request was, as the title of this post
indicates, lost in translation! I was so
touched though, that Chris would go through the trouble to try to bring me
flowers, and that this women probably really did have to work extremely hard to
get (make) this bouquet. I actually
think the flowers are unique and pretty, and I’ll always have them as a
remembrance-my one and only “fresh” flower bouquet in Indonesia!
On to story number two, which really should be called “Sarah
makes a fool of herself in Indonesia…yet again.”
So, I am working on putting together a retreat for the
ladies on our program to take place in September. It is going to be at the local hotel in
Tarakan, so I went there last Friday to reserve the rooms and establish a
contact person. I initially met with one
woman who helped me set up the reservations, and she was excited to use her
really good English skills to communicate with me, which was great! Often if Indonesian people are able to
converse in English they are happy to have a native English speaker to practice
with, especially in Tarakan where native English speakers are pretty
sparse. The fun began when she called
another woman from the hotel to help me make detailed arrangements about how to
set up the rooms, and this woman didn’t speak much English. First of all, I hadn’t put any thought into
how I wanted the rooms set up, I thought I was just making the reservations and
we would be working all the details out later, so I was caught off guard when
the woman from the hotel started asking me, in Indonesian, how did I want to
rooms set up, what did I need? At this
point I was sitting there with the two women who were helping me and nearby
there were another couple of Indonesian workers and customers, all listening
(and staring) at the western girl, because that’s how they roll here. I was fumbling to think what I needed in the
rooms and then trying to translate it into Indonesian, and thankfully the woman
who spoke English was helping me. I was
listing off the extra plates, cups, coffee mugs, etc. that we would need and
then I came to silverware. Let me pause
to say that I frequently get the word for “spoon” and the word for “shoe” mixed
up…I’m sure you know where this is headed.
I explained I would need 12 extra shoes
and forks in the room where we would be meet.
I didn’t even realize my mistake until I heard a giggle from a girl
sitting nearby, and suddenly everyone was laughing, including me. It was pretty great. A bit humiliating, but very funny!
The fun continued when, later that day, I got a call from
the woman I set up the reservations with while I was in the parking lot of a
grocery store, and I answered it right then (what was I thinking? It was so loud with traffic and people
yelling and construction, how did I think I would possibly hear and understand
her?). She was trying to explain that
she got us a cheaper rate on the rooms, but I had to check in with a special
process and oh my goodness I could NOT figure out what she was talking about
for like 10 minutes! She was so patient
and kept explaining until I finally understood.
All in all it was humbling day, but everything is reserved and ready to
go and the good news is everyone gets a pair a shoes in her room to go with the
rest of her dinnerware-just kidding!
Thought those stories of communication folly might make you
smile! I’m off to try to exercise, which
includes a “Dancing with the Stars Latin Cardio Dance” DVD.
Apparently more humiliation is in my very
near future.
