Oh Indonesia. Why you so crazy? 

Anyways, its been a long time since my last blog and you can count on the next being just as tardy.  Making my way to an internet cafe seems difficult sometimes, as I am usually eating or sleeping (or maybe watching a movie/reading a book).  Yet a very strange phenominon has been occuring in my person.  I guess it would be a lack of ambition- first time for everything. I am beginging to think it is an accumulation of waking up at 5 am (thus great lacks of sleep), a regular 6-1 job (9-5 in americanese), disconnection from the people (cuz I cant talk to them),  and an overwhelming sense of just being lost.  I want to make roots but at the same time, a part of me is grimly stating that I can't, plus I have very little energy to.  Maybe this is what the majority feels like.  I mean, for gods sake, I went to "Super Mall" cuz I was bored!! (and it was the only place a knew off yuck!)  So what about the standard procedure of sedation for this gnawing shittiness?  So, drugs are against the law here, of course. But scientifically, its way extreeeeme.  4 years just for weed, Damn! And/or $100,000 and if your caught slinging its the fucking Death Penalty! So much for the name Indo. They call it ganja here, by the way.  Booze is rather expensive, well its just the same as american prices (because of heavy taxes).  So Taxes: I dont know if they have an income tax here or not, but one things for certain; doesnt matter what country you are in, the gov. is always gonna make a shit load of you, slave. Well anyways, instead of opening up that can of worms, perhaps I should put aside the rants and raves and speak of things pertaining to strictly Indonesia and are more suttle and pretty in nature.  So, this nice old man that workd in the office at my school died this morning. After school, we all went to his house where he was lying on his bed covered up except for his head.  A chin strap seems to have been holding his mouth shut.  It was a catholic household, so I would imagine this was an Indo-wake (sounds like an instant breakfast shake).  Its all really shitty cuz I really liked the guy -a bit older, but always with warm smile and a welcoming manner.  So it was my turn to offer my condolences to the widow, but being extremely nrevious, I fucked it up- bad.  I saw everyone else shaking her hand (there's a cultural difference huh!  "Congrats! Now you gotta solely support your family in a uber-patriarchical country").  I shook her hand and tried to mimic this kind-of kissing-both-cheeks-thing-but-not-really, but being so nervous we did the "i went left and she went left then I went right and she went right" And I ended up smiling and laughed a little, as tears were dripping from her face. Fuck. I was glad to get out of there and to a local warung (side of the road store made of scrap wood and sheet metal) and get a baby coconut.  ..........and I was like thirty-five cents!?!?! C'mon, they grow on trees................. And she was like "Apa?" and then we shared a moment.... Okay, another story is when I went to a mountain with the school for the student leadership camp.  It was on this huge, beautiful piece of property owned by a prominent polititian and had caged endangered species (unbelieveably sad and ironic-  but I suppose humans are just as an "in"danger species...thanx a lot Al "douchebag" Gore).  Wow, while writing this I have eaten about 20 cookies by now. Oh Im fat now too, or as I call it, sculpted  ; ). Anyways getting back to the story, It was late one night an I had just slept 3 hours on a raised mat made of bamboo, after an adventure on a zip line, and I learn the PE teacher can open up one's 6th sense of a bit an allow the persone to see ghosts. I say 'do it' (with a little more respect and more reserve) and he does.  I see a ghost of a womyn walking around and she looks at me four times.  Her eyes were pretty scary.  They looked just like a cats when you shine light on them in the dark, but there wasn't a light source shining directly at her. I ask the coach if I could get closer to her.  He askes why and my response was that i would like to try to communicate with her, foo. He says she will just run away...a likely story.  He continues, "Saya tidak bicara dengan kjhsdai sdo derrka derrka laki laki" okay I'll use english (for those not ejewkated in the worldly arts of linguistic conversation via Bahasa).

He told me inorder to talk to a ghost, you have to be possessed by them first. I said uh...okay, fill 'er up and closed my eyes.  He mumbled some things and waved his hands around.  Then I felt them, lots of them rush into me.  I couldnt communicate with them, but I def  felt way drugged and weird. 

Later, I went to bed and woke up the next morning with them still inside of me. I told him and he did some stuff and I think they all left, at least I think so. MUST  KILL  KEITH!  MUST  KILL  KEITH!!! ... uh... um... der.... uh.... Anyways, I found a field of sugar cane across the street being cut  LIKE THE  THROAT  OF  KEITH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   So, I cut a big stalk down, about six feet tall and ate KEITH!!!!  the whole thing by myself.  Next to the field was this small warung, remember from before, and ordered a cup of coffee.  It took along time but it was fucking great! Turns out it took so long because tthe owner/only employee had to go grab some coffee beans that were drying out in the sun, from her tree, and grind them up in her mortor and pestle! Ahhh, Indonesia.  Well there are just a few things that have been happening to me.  I hope all is going well for you.  I know life was getting pretty crazy for about eveyone I knew, I hope the waves have subsided.  I wish you the best and urge you to leave that country, even for a bit. The grass is always greener on a tropical island.
 Your Friend,
Samson


part 2