an entry somewhere else

This week had been quite normal until yesterday. I have a speaking class for fourth semester students and they were giving process speeches. Most were pretty humdrum; some were well-planned, some were not. The best topic of the class so far (two are to go next week) was “how to rid someone of a djinn.” Yes, a djinn. I think I’ve written on the topic of possession before as it happens quite frequently here, or so the media would have us believe. The supernatural in Indonesian society is alive and well. I even remember reading an article in the last year in The Economist related to djinns and their relations to Islam. The speech was a bit interesting in that the djinn needs to be asked by the exorcist what religion they are!

The second abnormal thing to occur in my afternoon class was a young lady fainting on her classmate. This hadn’t happened to anyone in my class here before but definitely has happened on a field trip I attended. My colleague usually chalks it up to poor nutrition and wearing all the clothes the ladies are required to wear on campus. I’m not sure I could say much different. I noticed she was coughing and kind of fading in and out. Finally, another student brought to my attention that she had passed out. Half the class paid no attention to the situation and the other half loved the commotion. They laid her out on the chairs and I called my colleague to orchestrate the next step. By the time I got back to the room, someone had whipped out some smelling salts they were conveniently carrying in their bag and roused the fainted lady enough to have her open her eyes. My colleague arrived and organized several other ladies to carry her off somewhere. The young lady was absent today.

I’ve also scheduled up one last trip to Manado for the time being. Garuda Airlines, the national flag carrier, will be my steed. Service in Indonesia is not a priority in most places and the Garuda office wasn’t either today. I arrived around 9a (they open at 8.30a). I pulled a number for my queue and looked around. There were six or seven counters and only two were occupied by representatives. One was working with a gentleman reckoning what seemed to be a month or so’s worth of transactions. The other representative was working with another customer. Fast forward 15 minutes and seven customers behind me. A third representative shows up and I turn out to be the next in line and quickly conduct my transaction, much to my joy. Yes, I was next in the queue and, yes, it took 15 minutes. It’s almost as painful as going to the supermarket when there are 30 or so checkout lanes, but only half are staffed and the lines are 6 or 7 customers deep with baskets full. Or the queues at the gas stations here.