Thursday, June 15, 2006

Indoland or Bust 11ish

ROCK ON THE CROUCH! NEXT TIME DO THE ROBOT DANCE.




ROCK ON THE CROUCH! YOUR GANGLY BUT I LOVE YOU!!

Well caress me bottom and call me McFiddle, its that time again. Strap yourself into the seat of destiny and down a shot of snakes blood as it is that time of the month when Ben enlightens you on his unbridled fun anf filthy antics in Indoland. Its Indoland or Bust number 11..............
Peter the Crouch what a legend. How can a gangly man like that be so maaizingly funny and at the same time a quality footballer. Its turly odd watching his limbs move around the pitch. But his goal brightened up a dreay game where England played lik they didnt want to be at the worlds biggest tournament. Pull your socks up lads, Sven show some passion you lame tosser and for crying out loud how quality was little Aaron Lennon?
Last day at the Red Cross.
I rocked up to work with old Miftah chub chubs and soon they had ushered us into a room and sat us down at a long table with some odd oozing delacasies on them which I refused to touch as they looked like leperous seeping wounds. It all turned out to be a little thankyou ceremony with all the chief honcho's and the little cheeses on our behalf. I was shocked as I was juts expecying a few handsaheks and the cerificate which I corrected the spelling on. But instead it was Mass Ben speech time as I had to stand up in front of the room of the Red Cross big wigs and make so silly impromptu speech about what I had learnt and what I had done and seen! Oh the joy!
After Miftah had translated it all I was stunned again. But this time it was a nice shock as the chief, chief, uber big boss man came into the room and presented both Miftah and I with some sort of large wooden plack with a brass front on it. It was like recieving an Indo Oscar really. It was a large heavy thing and I have juts done a trial run packing my bag and have no idea as to where I am going to put it. But that was not all I got. I was presented with a large wrapped box and old moody guts Fajyar who cheered up today made me ripp it open as I posed for photos with all the honchos and cheeses. Inside was a blood pack box and inside that was the strangest thing I have ever seen. It was a bamboo carved duck whacker. A thing that you hit a little stick againts it. All the sleers and vendors use them as it makes a piercing noise. Therefore for the rest of the day at PMI I pissed around banging it and shouting soto ayam (chicken soup). I went around the labarotories and invaded all the rooms. This however wasnt the end to the prestnts and I felt so guilty recieving them. I did present the place with a framed London postcard. I know it sounds tacky but it looks raher pro if I do say so myself. Alia a lovely girl who works in the blood room gave me a miniature Islamic drum and a miniture gong. They are tiny and really delicate but I was so touched by it. I never in the least expected to get anything at all apsrt from the laminated cerificate (easy wipe you see, juts like the argos catalogue). The limping crutch wielding 3 wheeled motorcycle driving alcoholic man in the office then hobbled up to me and the stench of rice wine made my eyes water. But he made me smile as he presented me with a bottle opener and said to me 'When drink, think me'. That was really nice as many times have I shared rice wine with him and his blackened teeth. I was so moved by all this kindness that I wish I had the money to go out and buy soemthing better for my work placemtn. But hopefully the fact that my uber massive 6000 plus words proposal which has been sent off to many Red Cross organisations around the world will be my lasting legacy as hopefully they can sit back and watch the cash roll in. I know thatt is a scenario for an ideal world but you never know.

The farewells started to hot up the night I left PMI as we had a host family and also a volunteer workplacement leaving ceremony thing. We have some official bollocks tomorrow where they have asked us to wear batik. Oh what a shame I accidently lost mine or it may suffer a spontaneous combustion in the carpark. This baytik bollocks ia an ugly printed materiual which is the Indo national dress or somehitng like that. In my eyes it is horrendously awful and I refuse to wear it. It break a fundamantal human right in freedom of expression if we are told to wear it. My expression is not to look like a complete toss pot waering the most awful shirt know to man. But the two stooges or projest supervisors to give them their proper title will probably kick up a fuaa like they always to at any thing tricvial. 'Its for the good of the team', they will say or some oither tosh like that. But I am not alone with this oppinion. I dont want to wear it and either does most of the Brits. Its juts too awful for words to describe. Its the sort of thing which keeps kids awaka at night and the sort of thing that makes people want to go blind by seeing.
Anyway away from that rant now. The farewell thing was utter balls. The event was painful to wacth and sit through where the worlk placement and then at a later one in the evening the host families spoke on the microphone while Rizky or screaching Ennnik with her pigeion feet transaletd it all. The picture slideshow of Hoogies digital photos played in the background and as it flashed photos onto a big screen through a projector there was a gasp from the Indos. Suddenly the pictures of us in the swiming pool flashed up. You see the Brits went for a swim as all the Indos even though they live on the worlds largest archepelego cannot swim. So we went swimming and as there were no Indo's there to cry at the sight of flesh (oh the wicked flesh) we could lounge around in next to nothing. I do this any way but for the girls it was a relief to show shoulders and to uncover their legs. But when these photos of scantily clad bodies popped up the gasp created an atmosphere thatt could have been popped by a pin. A bubble of 'oh my god' from the Indos!
This is somehting that they will have to get used to come Scotland. As as soon as the sun comes out in Britain we Brits take off clothes and bask in the sun. This will offend the Indos terribley who if they were to go swimming would fully cover up. Also I cannopt wait to see their faces when I have a free Tiger beer on singapore airlines. If one of them is sitting next to me they will think that the devil himself has manifested itself into my beer! Oh rock on with their cultural deveoplment. We Brits were asked to conform in so many ways, shapes and forms and I bet the Indos cant and further more wont be asked to conform or try to adapt like we have been doing so. For example I cannot evenb see an Indo enetering a pub even if no one in the group is drinking. Its juts silly really!

I am deading tomorrow formal send off from the city of Malng at the Myaors office. I bet they try and make us sing again. I have to recite a poem on laguage and I will be standing up and saying it in Indonesian. Therefore my pronounciation will be the Indonesian version of 'allo, allo'. Then we rock off to the beach. I cant wai. But before that its more football into the late hours of the morning! Last night they went mental for their former colonial rulers Holland. How strange!
Tonight I will stay up cheering on Ghana. My African mistress! Rock on the black stars!

Indoland or bust 10
















7th June onwards

On a beach out of reach somewhere very far away!

Well soon to be anyway when we all depart for our Indonesian debrief session at the seaside!

I cannot wait. After all this city action the chance to relax and bask in the sea like a randy whale is all too good to be true. But of course there is some uber bollocks of a leaving Malang ceremony organised by the locals for us. I know what it will entail. Loads of speehes by people trying to look important and many hands to shake. Also maybe they will try to make us sing again, not on your bloody nelly mate!!!
So whats has been happenign of late then? Quite a lot I cxan assure you. So now get ready for another marathon of mine recollections as I embark on my Indo bimbo journey into the unknown. You have better had your larium because you are going to need it!
The other day a few of us decided to visit Singosari temple on the outskirts of the city. I had been there before when Mr. Lamide decided to drive the blood bus up to it for no reason. But this time we invited the entire team and yet again only our 'exclusive group'! Oh yes our littl eband of frineds have been branded exclusive. This is yet another fantastic example of how blind the supervosors are as the Indo have their little 'we love to go to the mall' group and the ';uber religious prayer group'. But as they are not British they get away with it all and as we funnily enough are Brits we get the flack for it. Its a real case of not seeing the wood for the trees and the pot calling the bloody kettle bacl. I hate all this bolcoks and this programme has really throen up loads of ludicrous bollocks! So anyway back to Singosari. We rocked up and explored the ancient ruined temple. I clambered into the catacoombs and the insense made my eyes water. We explored and tried to dodge Malang tv who juts so happened to be there. Everywhere we go there bloody mini van is already there filming some bollocks or asking us for an interview. After my vagina antics I am not allowed to speak to them any more. But I have, ha ha. I even said that Mlang is a wonderfully egregious city on camera!!!!!!!!
Singosari is a small village area within the city outskirts. This is an odd composition as you get the old traditional bel embellished horse pulling carts with a shouting man with a large whip on the reins next to a modern and quite luxurious buliding. It truly is a contrast, and then you see the temple.
When we were walking away from the temple some man came up to me and showed me a picture of a giant pot bellied Buddha statue. Low and bloody behold and how the nutcrackers had I missed it before was a massive buddha staute juts 100 yards up the road. But as we appraoched another one popped into view. I couldnt resiet bt yo go up close and rub his rotund belly! The other day I caused Indo squirms when I gave full cuppage to a gint gorilla statue in a garden that had a wee willy winky poppoing out. It was raing and there I was posing with his little fella in my hand. This was like a true sin to the Indos who rolled their eyes and gasped!!!!!
On the way back we found a delight ful little shop seling bronze casts of Buddhas, woven bags and carvings galore. Hoogie then bought his second drum of the Global xchange programme (yes it is spelt stupidly with juts the X), how the devil is he going to get those two big buggers home!!!! Anyway we were checking the merchandise out in the shop and fingering the stupa statues and playing with a model of vishuns bottom we noticed that art the back of the shop a rather strange cermony was in progress!
What was this we all wondered and the five bandits in crime looked on (Katie, Faemondo, Hoggie no show, Daisy Duke and your humble narrator). Suddenly they saw us loking and invited us into their home to gate crash what would turn out to be a traditional Javanese wedding. This stragne but enchanting spectacle was one were the groom was no where to be seem and the door to a lrge cermonial and matremonial bed was left ajar. The priest man in his Javanes attire with knife in belt little pointy hat and a microphine spoke while his silver pocket watched dangled on it chain. The bride was sitting in what can only be descirbed Indo scantily clad atttire, in other words her shoulders were showing. Oh heaven forbid she was showing flesh, run for the Hills Indos the flesh is out. Dont look boys you may go blind! Well she sat there and was being fed shot glass after shotglass of translucent liquid. What it was I nevr discovered but I suspect that it was Holy water. Anyway we couldnt fathom out whether it was an Islamic, Buddhist or Hindu wedding as statues from all those three faiths littered the scene. A large mainting of mecca hung on the wall, a astutue of buddha sat on the floor nest to Shiva and Vishnu dancing. So it was life the title charester from Liufe of Pie in a sence!!!! Sorry got all bookish then!
we watched but I felt quite uncomfiotbale as I was standing there in my cut down shorts and a scraggly old Indo sun bleached t shirt with my mighty boosh of hair waving around like a beast from the East,, while all the Indo's in attendance were dressd in beautiful flowing white silk garments. Even the men. So we all snuck out throught he kitchin with strange expressions on our face. We waved as we departed and then skidaddled back into town via the multi coloured angkots almost being run over en route.
Since then I have been rather actively popping into other peoples work placements to help out with small Community action days and help with odd jobs. We rocked up to SKB which is a school for homeless and street kids and helped hoe the garden. A day with a hoe, can you imagine anything more fun than spending time with a good old worn in hoe. Oh there inuendos will get me into trouble. I muts tell you that if you ahve a younger host brother of sister in your host house then the ciorect term to address them (you never use first names here) is to call them 'dik'. Yes you can say morning dick to your host brothers and sister. Any one else is called, Pa (man), mass (bloke of your age) or Bu which is for a married woman! So you never say morning Dave or hi Fred how are ya. Oh I want a Razil shirt with FRED 21 one the back of it. I love the fact that Brazilians have fantastic names such as: Ronaldinho, Ronadlo, Roberto Carlos, Kaka (ha ha) and Robinho. But also in the Brazil squad it Fred. What a legend, what a name!
Well we worked in the blistering sun at SKB while some man wanted to taklto us about business. This has been happening to rather a few of the British volunteers recently. Poeple claim to be from the local government but in truth they are people who want to get a token Bule (whiteperson) to help promote and sell their wares!!!! While we worked in the garden at SKB sprinkling seeds in the soil and hoeing away liklt the bitches we are a random man with an uber tash helped out. The reason I mention him at all is that his t shirt is the stuff that legends are made from. His t shirt said 'Wako University'. There really is a university called that in Surabuya. But do you have to be a complete wako to go to it? I guess so as he fit the bill fantastically!
Apart from SKB I also popped along to help finishing the painting at the YPAC school where another volunteer pair ply their trade. The art centre lads have turned the place into one massive mural and I look on in envy as the painting is too good to be true. Its horrible jealously, but I am so jealous of their talents with a brush and a palet. Oh I wish I could paint like that, but alas I cant so I befriended them all instead and put my jealousy aside.
Our 'team' had a large scale CAD (Not as large scale as pagelawan) at a place called Budhi Mulyah. Thi is a school for blind people from 15 to 35 years. There we helped plant the garden, leading the students by the hand and helping them to rummage in the soil was a great experience and I loved it. But the best part was that the school traisn the older students how to become massueses! It was great as we all got massages and bloody hell the bloke who did me ripped the shit out of my calves. I couldnt walk after wwards. But stupidly I hadnt learnt the Indonesian for 'not so bloody hard' before hand. We all lay on the beds in a long row as Ibby bloody filmed us and zoomed in on Miftah's special areas decalring that he had a chopper! Later Miftah said to me 'what is chopper', when I told him his face was disgusted! I hobbled from the masaage rather embarressed as I fell asleep and got a semi on. It was so embarressing to do so, but the bloke was blind so wouldnt notice. But he massaged my arse crack and loved to fondle the cheeks. Dont worry this happened to all of us and the girkls quite enjoyed it, but some wont admits it. But they all looked flushed afterwards. I was ripped to peices in my legs as his Iron rod fingers had destroyed my legs. So now walking was hard going!
Relaxation has been few and far between in Mlang now. The fact that we are all busy prevents us from getting any rst. But we have found the time to sit and chat over numerous coffess in OEN the dutch cafe. It is like cheers in there as everybody knows your name. The staff seem to like us and we can joke with them and play jellow jilbab (same as yellow car). The customers are mostly affluent sods who sit poking their noses at us whle we sip the cheap drinks. May of the clientele are old ex pat Dutch people. They come in all shapes and sizes from young to the grotesquely chubby who fill the wicker seats and the floor around them. Bulding bellies hanging over their knees. How do people let themselves get like that? One Dutch bloke looks like Groucho marx as he actually has and I kid you not got a painted on moustache! What a legend! He loves to talk to me as they all think I am an Australian. I keep telling the people there and only yesterday aid it again, that I am 'Ingriss" and not an Aussie! But apart from OEN we founf another cafe. In Buddhism they have somehting taht looks very similar to a swaztika. This is adormed all over this cafe. So we call it the Nazi cafe or Hitlers rest! But they serve coffee with susu (milk) and its hard to get milk here. Getting cheeses is like getting blood out of a stone!
The greatest thing of all happened though. The world cup has kicked off. Woo hoo football heaven. The only problem is that all the matches are late at nigt as the time difference here is about 7 odd hours. So I have had a few all nighters up watching the tv cheering on the abismal England. Come on THE CROUCH, I want to see the robot dance. Trinidad were bloody marvelous with Sir Sjaka Hislop pulling of a masterclass in goalkeeping. The Aussies got the loudest cheer from the Indo students who live above me. That was a social experiment and a half. As the Indos hate the japs, bloody hate them because of the war. But they are not too freindly with their neighbours accross the water in Oz. So who would they support as they went mental for South Korea when they beat the plucky Togo. But the Aussies got the loudest roof roaring cheer of all when they beat the japs. The streets were filled with people shouting and runing around. At one pint I thoughtthat they may even turn over a car or two. But before they could do any real celebrating they realised that they were Indonesian and went back to being boring and non spontaneous!! Strange country!
Tonight we play Trinidad and my lack of sleep in recent days ( the matches here are from 8pm - 10pm, 1pm-1am and then 2am to4 am. So as I get uyp at five to be at work I get one hour of sleep a night. Well its more like 45 minutes as the lady with the massive facial goitre starts to cook and fry shit outside my window at 4.30 am. Then the students rev up their bikes which are also parked out side my wobndow. Then I get up to discover that the bloody house cats, those pecky filthy bastard have pulled my washing off the line. Shat on it or once they blldo gave birth on my t shirts. Those kittens are mine by right now!!!!!
But what a feats of football we all have. I wont go on about it any more ut we did a sweep stake here and I got bloody Croatia. Come on the Craots wont do bugger all. My outside bet apart from obviouslt saying England is the Czechs as they sent the yanks tariling. Good jb too, we cant have those bloody yanks getting to the quarter finals again and people thinking that they are a force in world football. Bescides I have never forgiven them from calling our beloved football soccer!!!!
The England game was the only one I have ever watched in my adult life without a beer and on my own in the house. It was strange doign that and quite lonely!
Yesterday (14th June) we allhad an EAD at the buddhist temple in Malang. There we had a massive discussion about religion and as it transpires Indonesia is breaking one of the fundamental Human rights and all the Indosa are blinded by religion to see it. In Indonesia it is against the law to be an agbnostic or an athiest. You HAVE to have a religion. Therefore the freedom of choice, expression and belief are being ignored by the Indonesians. We tried to get into their bloody skulls that this wasnt right and that you should have the freedom to believe or not belive as the case may be. But the Islamic blinkers were on and they couldnt fathom out that any Indonesian would ever want to not be religfious. Thsat the blody point you morons, you dont give them the choice you make them have religion and its juts nopt on and not right. They then said that if you have no religion in Indonesia you are considered a communist and arrested as communism is illegal. Therefore I am a communist and will now call all the Indos comrade and wave a red flag all the time./ They are so sheltered here that they have no persepctive about the wider picture of life. it truly sickens me to think of a baby being born and then parents going. Right you are forever now on a Muslim and if you stop you will be arrested. It is sick and wrong!
The rest of the day we spent learning about the ways of the Buddhists and being shown around their glorius temple. Oh how wonderful it was the dragons with southend on sea gren lights for eyes. The lions guarding the entrances, the chinese symbols and writing everywhere. The smoke from all the many jossticks burning filled the air and then we were shown how to use acue pressure.
The man who guided us round a Pa Hanon was an expert at this and when he poked my arm in a certainplace it felt as though I had been struck by ighting.
We also had a session on meditation and he commented and said I was the 'deepest' out of the group. This meant that I achived it rather than falling asleep! I muts have when thinking about it as I followed his instrcutions and suddenyly it was time to get up. The time inbetween lapesd to me and felyt like only a few seconds!
At work I have been put and about with the blood bus or mobile unit to give its real name. We have visited many universities and institues and at each one. The large driver with the uber mullet Mr. Lamide with the long finger nails, the chairman maeo dress and the potched skin pimps for me. I get there set up and suddenly he has dissappeared only to reappear later with loads of Indoesian girls who 'want to speak to me'. No they juts want to see what a white man looke slike and poke him and ask the same questions aover and over and over again in pigin Englsih. I have been asked whether I am married so ma y times and then they giggle and say 'you very handsome man'. Now both men and women say this to me whioch is most confusing. But I am only handsome to them because I am different. My whiteness and hair looking like a banshees armpits makes them intrigued and want to know me!!!!!!!
Painting has been a constant source of fun this week. After the job we did at Pagelawan where we painted murals with water basde paint on the outside walls so they will come off when the rainy seasons come, then there was the YPAC antics and now finally Hoogie no show creme brulee's house. His host mother Bruindra who I call Brunhilda saw the photos of the murals at Pagelawan. The place where the school is so ramsghackle and falling down but the mosque next door is pristine, funny that! Anyway she saw the pictures and asked could we rokc up to hers and wield our brushes and cause trouble. We were given a lcense to kill and I painted a massive St. George wielding his big old sword on the wall with fluttering flags and banners waving in the breeze behind him. The one of the therepist at his house (I forgot to mention that his ost home doubles as a school for autistic kids) asked me to draw poo! Well I was juts about ready to start mixing a nuty brown when I realised that she was holding a picture of the poxy bleeding teletubbies and she ment can I draw and paint Po. Not poo. I explained what poo is as in Indonesia poo is a kind of food that looks slimy and comes in bags! I told her this and she seems most perturbed. But I also think that this was because standing on benches reaching up to paint my belt wasnt o tight enough and you could see my arse crack. On no not the flesh again, run for the hills Indos!! The finished mural looks great and all the time you ha dto suddenly jump down from your lofty position to catch a kid hurtling towards the paint pots. Some of the kids were absoltely adorable and one kept sticking his tongue out at me. Of course I was encouraging the little blighter to the annoyance of the therapist who was trying to tech him colours. One little kids came up to me and held my hand while I painted. His little grin spoke a thousand words!!!! When we left 3 kids waved and blew kisses to me!
Tomorrow is my last working day here in Indonesia before we fly out to Glasgow to start the UK leg of this 6 months global exchange. I feels odd to be leaving and the time has flown by so quickly. It feels like only yesterday when I was getting told off for bringing beer into an Islamic house and being accosted as my pants were visable. It seems strange to think that soon I will be home, well almost and havng ants nest in my shoes over night will be a thing of the past. British news papers will be a treat, even the dodgy ones. But the thing I am lookinf forward to the most apart from a damn good pint is none other than cheese!!!
So tomorrow is my last day and I have sorted out a wee surpirise for my workplacement. I have prepared a photo frame with pictures of London in it to present to them. Its onyl small but I have wriotten on it Terima Kasih which means thankyou. Matur nuwon also means thankyou but you can alomost sing terima kasih. I do this a lt when saying thankyou. I also in OEN today while pising around started doing a panty dance in front of the women wokign there juts to see their rection. They actually thought that I was dancing to the off key painist perfomring especially fior a group of old wrinkly Dutch people sitting on a central table. I have also have done the same with the framed picture postcards for my freaky incestious host family and the big boys in the gym who like nothing better than to give me deep feied bananas and to touch me up while I am in mid weight lift! This could cause trouble as some times there I am straining awyay in a skimpy vest trying to look as hard as nails when some geezer gooses me and I go 'ooooh' loudly and they al giggle and say ; ah London, london Arsenal yah'! The last framed card is for the man in OEN that serves us and always chats and is really friendlty, but the bad thing is that we have never learnt his name at all. So its too late now but he gets a thankyou carsd anyway.
My host father olf Pa Agung or 'Oweeeeee' as he likes to be know is nothing more than a lazy slob who sleeps on a mattress in front of the tv while I am watching spain demolish the uKraine warpped up and curled up in an almost clinch post coital position with his 21 year old daughetr. This is sick and wrong but they penly do things ike that. She even hands feeds hiom. When I say hand feeds him. He will sit on the floor wacthing the tv while she using her fingers scoops rice and meats into his mouth. In Indonesia you eat with your fingers but with someones elses give over a minute!
He went away paragliding orjuts being fat you decide? Anyway he buggered off and with that all the open house abusing bastards who tag along went away too. Therefore I was eft with some peace and quit. I would like to emphasis the some bit! But now he has returned tall those sods have rocked back up and they create havoc. Its back to the 'oooh look a white man, klets touch him and shout his name at any given moment to see what he does, lets even try and read his diary over his shoulder. Oh look hes getting angry, Ouch the Bule hit me!'. As soon as they all rocked back up they all suddenly took a liking to football and watched all the games shouting at the tv and havin no idea about the sport at all. That really annoys me as I love my football ist is my religion and these sods ruin it for me. Shouting goal when the shot sailed so high over the bar that it could clip an eagles wings! I juts cannot believe how lazy and gout like my host father is. I dont like cal;ling him my host father as I belive I live i rundown stuident accommodation where evryday I have to qwrite the number of items I put on the washing line on the back of my hand so I know when they are pinching my boxers. They bloody dop as well juts baceuse they are calvin kleins and Indos where silly little girly panties they nick by sodding undies. I cannot wait to catch the sods at it. Also when I get home from work I find athat all my washing on the line has been ripped off thrown in the muid and there washing is on the place where I left it. When I catch the little basterds I will actually throttle them. I can narrow it down to 2 people and thses two both compained to Pa Agung and his lazy ways that I was scary and unapproachable. Well I will aproach them all right and knocj their door down and remove their teeth with my bare hands if I cathc them again,. It would do them a favor as Indo teeth are rotten to little black stumps as they put about 6 table spoons, not teaspoons in their small cups of tea!!
The time has come for us to depat this land and I will miss it for its ideocyncasies and its bizarre sureraeal oddness and ther customs which want to make me scream. But I wont miss their uber OTT Islamic ways. The Indos wont know ehat hit them com Glasgow. Alcohol is a demon to them and they would never step foot in a pub. Also they are terified of dogs as if they are lciked by one they have to wash 7 times and one with mud! Therefore I was delighted to discover all about what I will be doing and where I will be living in Glasgiow. Also to my joy we have a small yappy dog. Ha ha Miftah is going to shit himself! In Glasgow I will be woking with Ennik the pigeon footed uber religious Indo.Her face was a picture when she discovered that she had to wotrk with the hedonistic uber fun lovuing drinking debauchery mad and silly as hell Brit. Oh she tried to fein pleasure but he face let her down. cannot wait to work with her and say Ennik 'ITS IMPOLIE' In a high pitch nmock Indo tone. She always is the first to criticise me when I do something as trivial as look at the food before I choose it and then she in her screeching of a voice with fingers bending backwards and long flowing skirts made from grandmothers velvet curtains says 'its impolite'. There are a few of the things which she has said are impoliote to me: scratching my belly, sneezing, saying 'ooh thats hot' when eating spicy food, looking at food before I choose what to eat, saying that an idea is ludicrous and the pierce de resistance caloing Anhah Annie all the time. I cannot wai to say. Have you been scratching your arse clean again Ennik, is there risidual poo under your finger nails. Your velvet skirt is im polite, itrs all impolite your in Britain now love its our gaff our rules get over it your sheltered bint. Oh how I want to do in her voice those words that irritate me so.
Its also true that Indos to clean their arses aftyer a release of chocolate hostages wipe it with their hands. Daisy had to do a demonstration (clotehs on of course) about using toilet paper as they wre all perplexed by the sight of it! Britain will kill them all. Miftah reckons he can handle it as he has been oj a course! I would love to have sat in on that load of bollocks. It was probably an indoctrination course about howe evil our western ways are!
What I have discovered about Glasgo is that I am working for the Princes trust will all sorts of people from refugees and asylum seeksre to kids with ASBO's. Rock on its gotta be loads better than the un English speaing silliness of PMI. Even though I am not working with old Miffy chub chubs I am still living with him. I am staying in Maryhill a notoriusly bad area of Glasgow and guess what I am about a mile from a place where there was a racial muder not long ago. Therefor the reason they put us in this location was because they wanted two people who could handle themselves if any trouble came up. Now that perplexes me as old Miftah screamed like a bady when he was being massaged by a blind bloke and when the man with the bad teeth but the ironicly charming smile acue pressured him. Therefore I think he wil start too runand scream at the slighetset sign of truble. I think he will spend all his free time in the host home. The host home and the new host family consists of an Irish lady. Who apprantly is a proper scream and like s adrink or two. Rock on. Also we have seperate rooms in our flat so no snoring Miftah for me!
Well I better finish up all this tripe soon. Lastly I want to telkl you that they love to sell randopm wigs in shops and the shop keepers get mighty annoyed when I try them on and also the Indos have expressed loads of fears about coming to Glasgow, but the best of all was Ennik saying that we needed to get a boat to Glasgow as it was on som island off the coast of Ebngland. No love thats Ireland. I know scotlandf and ireland have Land in their names but they are different ok! Its juts like Indoland but colder love!
So tomorrow is my last day at work and the ost family and vo,lunteer placemet review where they come in and tell the project superfishmongers about whet we have achieved and all that tosh and rummy!
So til I write again, watch the world cup and tonight at 11pm Indo time England play Trinidad and Dwight Yorke Tobago. Coem on your 3 lions. Pull your finger out sven and make some attacking substitutions for a cghange and leave Owen Hargreaves on the bloody bench.
Rock on England!
Take care and have fun and remember this random fact! The Ivory Coast international football goalkeeper Jean Jacques Tizie has only got one bollock!!!!
Loads of love and pants dances

Ben
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Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Indonesia or Bust 9






















27th May 2006
So let me begin at the very beginning today. I was lying awake in my bed as you cannot sleep past 5 am as the house comes to life and people rev motorbikes fry foot outside my door and make such a general racket that sleep becomes impossible. I was lying there and suddenly I realised in my dozing and drowsy state that the room was shaking, I first thought it was a motorbike or something and then when it hit me like a brick to the head that it was an Earthquake I jumped out of bed but it had stopped as quickly as it had begun. It was odd, the floor seemed to lurch, but nothing happened. No walls collapsed no dust falling from the ceiling, nothing.
I didnt know what to think so I looked around and all was in order. Not until I went to the internet cafe later on did I realise the extent of the damage. The epicentre was 25 miles from a central Javanese city of Yogjakarta. The city today is in ruins, over 2,275 people have lost their lives and thousands more are injured. I was shocked as the tremor had travelled al the way to East Java and made my room shake a little. I feel starnge knowing that something that made me jump out of bed has killed so many.
Its an awful feeling and it has taken th lives of countles numbers and so many more are still missing.
I muts now take a step away from the earthquake and tell you all the fun that has hapened. A big sopository of fun to brighten your day. To start with I was inteviewed by Malng Tv and I said vagina live on tele. This is an onruining joke with any Indonesian interviews that we do. I am dared to say 'vagina' and I do so. I am not one to back away from a dare.
June 3rd
This week after the awful earthquake has seen my work at the Red Cross double, tripe and it continues to rise. The blood stocks that were alreadty depleated by the 2004 tsunami had to go to the site. Therefore as I am only allowed to work in East Java I was left behind while the aid workers left to go to the 'Jogya' epicentre. Therefore this week I have been wotking my sweaty balls off loading aid trucks, sorting aids supplies and getting blood. I even donated blood my self. Giving the deeply thivk vein goo to the nurse who giggled at me throughout. I know what you are thinking 'are you mad, giving blood in a developing country'. But I opened the brand new box of sterile single use needle attacked in a air tight sterile package blood donation packs. They were shipped from the manufacturer in Singapore ad I throughly inspected it myuself before hand. Once I was satisfied I donated 250mils of blood. This is nothing in comparision to the pink that we give back at home. But still after wards juts liek when I donate in England I gfot up and the blackness set about my eyes. I started to see through a fog and felt sick. But before I could sufvfer the indignity of collapsing and faining. I somehow managed to in my blindness take off my trademark cowboy hat and put my sunglasses inside, place them on a table and walk or rather stumble over to a table lye down and raise my legs. I did this all unknowingly and was later told what I had done. All ther nurses still laught at me for this.
I have been all over the city collecting blood. Universities where I am mobbed because I am white, collegse, schools with thousands of female pupils and a handfull of meas who look daunted and scared all the time. I went to the military medical academy today and that was a laugh. The people there acted like they have never seen a white man before. I was bomberded with questions in pigin English and as my Indo languege has basically ended and stopped being learnt I answered them as best as I could. Before I knew it I was being paraded round the campus and was made to pose for photos galore. Then one trainee army nurse decided my leg hair was the best thing since sliced bread and started to painfully pluck it when I was unawares!!
Taking of unawares I haveben snapped again for the Malang Newspaper, called Radar Malang. ASgain when I least expected it I will appear in the news. This occassion wasnt for saying vagina at a Red Cross event but was while I was up a ladder painting spitfires, yes you read it cotrrectly spitfires on a wall of a specil needs school. A load of us have been going in the afternoons to decorate and paint thr Ya Pe Aceh school for special needs. This place is awful beyonds words. Th moment I enterd the smell of urine hit me. I was so moved and juts had to hold the poor kids hands as I saw the condition they were in. Large metal cots that can only be described as Medieval were in a room soaked with urnien while their writhing bed sore ridden occupants looked out vacantly. The poor kids have no life here. I will and I promise raise some money when I am back home as this place needs help drastically. Some kids were tied intot he cots to stop them from moving and when one poor lad started to cry a woman slapped him and shook him by his withered legs. I was lile slapping her a bit, but I refrained. The same woman I later saw hitting a downs syndrome boy with a shoe! All the carers are not actual carers. They juts work their and resent the mess that the children make. They have no passion or love for the children, to them they are a source of income. Therefore I witnessed poor kids lying in their own urine and their skin so red that it looked like it would come away at the touch. There was a woman in a cot lying there gurgling and what a life she has led. The poor love had bee there for 13 years. Not moving juts cot ridden for over a decade. Poor woman, I hated this place. It was so awful that how I disdnt crack up I dont know.
As we cannot save the world, but ewe can make a small difference with the small funds we had fundrised by having a stall selling cakes and 'whiteman things', where I painted peoples faces all day. This was done at the Red Crosses Konser Bahtit;. Whish is a large openaired keep fit session. Anyway we raised some cash and I had said vagina on tv and the cash was spent on a big project that we start tomorrow. But with the spare cash we had we purcahsed paints and brushes and transformed their room into a colurful collage with picture sof lions, my spitfires, flowers, bosta, people running and cpruple clouds adorned on the walls. It is not finished yet and wonders were worked by a group of lads accompanied by a fantastic artist who juts loved to steal the ladder while I was up the wall painting my dive bomber scens. This group added to our man power and in two days the entire room was alive with colour where before it was drab and dull.
Up a ladder painting planes was my duty. But to add a British feel of couse these planes became spitfires and I added rotorblades spinning and the RAF emblem to them. I enjoyed the painting and I hope the poor kids can get some visual stimulation from it.
To get back to the other occasions that I have appeared on either Maang tv or Jakarta radio I wil have to go back intime. A the first time I was filmed at the Malang festival dancing on a wicker horse \doing the kula lumping dance. The second time was at the maduran festival where yet again I was dancing around all dressed up (this is debatable if it was seen on tv) and then being interviewed by the malang tv crew at the konser bhakti event where people in leotards danced around and wobbled their arses. The radio interviewI was sipping a cool beer in dutch colonial cafe when some jakarta interviewer/DJ approached us and we all had to make comments on Malang. But alas I never heard the boradcast so it is debateble whether it was aired. Now hopefully I will be in tomorrows paper!!!
This week I have also been to a naval academy for one of the 'teams' EAD's. We were treated to a comedy video about lifeboat safety and a talk from a man who has obviously been told too many rude jokes by British sailors!!! But they let of flares that day in the blistering sun, so all was not lost!
7th June 2006
Pagelawan painting extravaganza. EAD ETC
The weekend juts gone saw a painting and renovation extravaganza at the Uber Islamic community of Pagelawan. I liek to say the name in a posh Terry-Thomas accent! This community seems a bit well to do really, as all the residents seemed to have rather loud lavishly furnished houses. So how they ahve let their local community school fall into such a state of delapedation I dont know. The school was filthy and falling apart at the scemes. The rooms were cluttered with broken chairs and the library had not asingle piece of paper within let alone a book!
The community is so Islamic that even the men have to cover up their shoulders and chest all the time. Therefore a hot humid slog was going to occur over the weekend as even our knees had to be covered. You woudl think that a group of whiteys comming to do up their school would be iven an allowance to wear shorts. But not in an Islamic country, oh now.
Its so ironic. Next to the school down a slope there is a pool carved out of the rock and fed by a stream and all the local (except fully vlothed women) were jumping in naked all the time.I swam in the pool three times. It was great but I was harrasses by naked kids pulling on their little man planks and shouting at me. Why is it that when a white man swims the kids try and follow him? Also why do they pioint at their bits and shout at you? Do they think that I have the power to make it less mini Indo or something. Needless to say I stayed in the pool until the nakedness of children made me run away from the pool.
The entire weekend was a great laugh and we tranfromed the school into a massive mural embellished palace!

It was an early atsrt at the weekedn and I knew that I would get filthy with paint. So I went with my t shirt (the one ruined by the rust stains, after one of my filthy ouse mates took it off the line and put it on the railing) with 'Jim fixed it for me written on the back for prosperity in red paint.
So we met early and immediatly we crammed into the car and off we went to Pagelawan. I am still getting the piss taken out of me by Katie for my pronounciation of this place name. We stiopped en route to grab the local rag. It was the Surya paper. A real local obscure one and low and behold who should get on the printed page but none other than the duo of Fae and Katie painting flowers around their door. Naomi was mentioned and the report was quite small, but press coverage is press coverage at least.
We drove for ages and when we reached Pagelawan surrounded by rolling cultivated rice padi fields and risen fileds with irregated water features, we discovered that we 3 (me, Katie and Fae who both were wearing awful britney and christina t shirts that i found in a shop) were the only ones not wearing those horrible new 3 tone green t shirts for the GX programme. My t shirt is a loody large and instead of it swamping me it is so bloody large that I am constricted by the thing that cuts into my tits.
Oh well at least everyone else looked like fools in their green and I had 'Jim fixed it for me on my back'! So we set about to work and the load of us along with a handful of locals with bloody hundreds of giggling and laughting kids staring at your every move we set to work.
First thing we all did was scrubb the walls. every inch was coated in a thick layer of filth. The rags literally fell apart that we scrubbed so hard. Then after that we all painted the undercoat of the 'lovely' aqua marine classrooms and all walls. I was hounded, every move I made little kids got under my feat and annoyed me. So I gave them a wall and some brushes and set them o work. I have never seen such a mess afterwards. We stopped for coffee breaks when we could procure hot water from somewhere and soon the coffee exculsive club was formed. So much to the extent that I was up a ladder and Fae came over and made a head gesture that beckoned me. This was then followed by hushed words of 'I have made you a coffee'. It was such an espionage event to get a coffee.
I spent the first day inbetween the odd food stops that they made us all have, painting. The food was filth, but I gulped down loads on the first day. So much so that my the time the latter food stops came round I carried on working throughout.
So what we first did was to paint the walls. All the walls. Then by the Kindergarten on the walls was an area reserved for murals and the like. I started to draw chalk outlines of two monkeys and the GX logo. All the time while I had been woring away like a busy bee, the sour po faced woman from the British council and the equally uber lazy Fifie (Project supervisor) sat watching me. Then as I was finishing my chalk outlines the latter waddled over to me and said that we 'dont need any of that'. Well I had just stood there drawing and you fucking watched me you freak. So I gave her the chalk and said 'you fucking well do it then' and walked off. I went into a class room where Daisy and Fae were painting the walls and being pestered by the bare footed little kid who ran around shouting 'Mr' all the time rolling the r to sound like a robot! I was required there to paint the top parts of the walls perched on a table as they couldnt reach and the tables were a might unstable. So I painted the walls all round and watched out the window as my Monkey outlines were painted and soon two colourful monkeys took shape. Fuck you I thought.
As the murals were taking shape after I finished the painting of the walls and left the locals to copy my actions for the second coat. I went over and painted on the wall a huge elephant and a tiger. This was all done with shading and colours mixed galore. I soon had a huge crowd round me. The white man paints!!! Fifie came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I took my earphones out and she said 'This is really good'. Well that wasnt an apology and I still cannot abide her so I said Yeah and put my headphones back in and continued painting.
My tiger and elephant was soonjoined by a parrot and I sat their covered in paint as I seemed to have gotten it all over myself. The little kids all gathereed round me would sometimes get a shout from me to clear them off as they seemed to get so close that they could fuck you up the arse and then sometimes I would get them to say the animals I was painting in Indo language. Theses kids just loved me. But were so bloody annoying!
Hugh had done a great job in organising the whole affair and was the one who got me back doing murals and drawing the elephant.
The school overloked the community swimming pool. A man made pool fed by the river. It was clear and clean and had little fishes just uike the Indo toilet basins swimming in them. I could see so many naked bodies swimming around and washing openly in it. So then if they can swim naked and run around on the banks naked, why do we have to cover up our shoulders and all that bollocks. This entire community is fucked! Ther so called community head was roaming around like a pompadore all weekedn and did less that Fifie PS and that was absolutely sod all.
Finally the daylight receded and the dusk fell around us like a blanket. Our work was done for one day and with the lack of light and no spot ligts or electricity of anykind at the school that was all we could do. I immediately went down to the pool that now no longer had loads of people washing in it and all the inner tubes were put away oput of my reach. I dived in and swam lenght after lenght. The water seemed to refrresh and rejuvenate my body and soul.
As Hugh had stayed the night here last night off we went to this massive and amaizing host home.
But as the host home was an Islamic one the mosque music which was a little boy and some geezer singing into a microphone was pumped into the house making the arabic ringing in your ears. The house was massive. I even had a chain where a chandelier would be one day hung. The thing was that the house wasnt finished and was half plastered and half concrete. But still compared to mine it was a palace of clenliness and they served us up beautiful food. Of course no one spoke a word of English but we soon found the two rooms we were occupiying. One for Indo boys and one for Hugh, Ibby and myself. With one large bed, but a balcony!
The host house was truly impressive. The floors were so clean that you couldhave eaten off them. There was a maid and also all the mod cons. Well the Indo version of mod cons.
We soon went over to one of the other host houses wre all the girsl were sitting up and we played games, chatted and drank cold tea until it was all quiet outside. This of course was 9pm as Indos all go to bed early. At the end only the Brits were up playing word association and names games. . We all chatted so much and the night was areal laught. But all good things muts come to an end so off to bed we went.
The badminton players in the street had all put away their cocks now!
Oh in tennis you have ballboys, but in profeshional or olympic badminton do you have cock boys?
We all went back to our host home, full of food and tea with loads of sugar. The Indos were all in bed and Miftah was snoring keeping Rizky and Anhah awake. Ibby who is terrified by everything wrapped himself in Hughs mossy net and went to sleep. We all got in the bed and soon were dreaming about all sorts of things. I awoke absolutely freezing and needed to get a top to put on. But unbekwnost to me Hugh had got out of bed and was sleeping on the floor. Therefore I stepped on his amd went flying.
At 3 am I was woken with a start. The bloody mosque with the tannoy inbuilt in this house was booming out at such a high level that no one could possibly sleep at all. The noise was terrific. Why do they have to do that?
The next day.
We emerged suffering from lack of sleep and after breakfast I went down and swam in the pool and washed to wake myself up. Katie went down at 5.30 and said with the early morning mist upon the water it was terrific.But alas I wasnt up early enough to do that.
Anyway today I worked my bollocks off again and even drank my coffee after naomi had washed her paint brushes in it! I started off up a ladder finishing off the wall and using a brush tied onto a stick to reach the top bits near the roof.
So the wall was transformed into a super mural. I painted an absolute extravaganza on the wall and was so chuffed with the end result. I painted real surreal items. A hot air baloon flying over head with 'Get high with Hoogie air' written on it with a person vomiting over the edge of the basket. I also painted a bear on a union jack guitar. A ringmaster with big ginger moustache and a whip in hand. A chicken on her eggs a parrot on the other wall near the tiger. A cheese zepplein dedicated to Katie and also came up with the idea to make the central pillar a hand prints mural of all the team. Of course all these randoms joined in and put their prints on the walls. I waited to last and put mine up right at the top in black and also painted a union jack and wrote my name as El capitano Benoit. Then I made the ringmaster have magic coming fom is hands and a fish and then drew a gorilla with lipstick on and boobies!
.We have made the school lok brilliant. The only trouble is that all the paint is water based and will probably rub off or wash off before we leave Indonesia. But no matter it made for a cracking photo.
The kids were out in vengeance again today and every step I made I seemed to tread on one who came right up to me to watch me paint. Even the adults came over and stood watching as if inspecting, but said nothing. Occasionall one would give the thumbs up. I was truly covered in paint though. My clothes were ruined and all the paint had seeped through to my skin and I was covered in all the colours of the rainbow and many more of my monkey mixes.
I had to go for a swim so I went down to the pool. I was followed by all the kids who by now all kept shouting 'Mr. Ben' all the time. I jumped in and swam around a bit. Splashing the cool refreshing waters all over my paint stained and dusty body. The banks were lined by those dropping trees where the roots come from above. The same trees in fact that are in alun-alun. But sadly as I swam around the kids all joined me. The problem was that they all just stripped naked and dived into the waters. They even pulled on their dicks. I was called so I turned round and a few of them were pulling on their todgers and pointing to them shouting. It was a bit too sick for me so I washed , got out and went back to the school where I caused a stir by walking through a near deserted playground with my shirt off! Oh I am such a naughty boy!
Finally we cleared up and all was done. We had to pose for pictures and we dished out the toothbrushes that we had bought for the kids. Endah gave a speech over the microphone about dental hygienne and showed the kids how to brush their teeth. Thats juts an example of things that need to be shown to many Indonesians as so many smiles contain disgusting teeth.
On the way hom we laughed and joked and also played yellow car with the introduction of yellow jilbab. We passed little tuc tuc things and when we got back we were all throughly knackered.
There apparantly was some fair in town and a few of the Indos wanted to go. I went with them and wish I hadnt. It did have a fun fair but their was a massive poxy cheapo maket and the Indos walked through at such a slow pace looking at all the tacky shit. I had to leave so bid by goodbyes and off I went via two angkots home.
The rest of my week has been mighty surreal!
I was accosted my random men in the bird market shouting 'hey cowboy, you very handsome man' at me and one of the nurses at the Red Cross now likes to pinch my cheeks like a small child. It hurts!
This week I have also discovered that there is an ulternative option to Indomilk the gloopy semen like filth that is in place of milk out here. This substance is called Max Creamer and the name is such a prono name that I love it.
This week we also rturned to finish off the painting at YPAC (why-pay-achay). This was the school where the poor little kids were rottign awa in heinous cots and one little lad wa shaken and smekcd for crying. My hear went out to them all and I spent my time playing with kids and paitning the walls a piss yellow. There was one kid who was so great. He was practicing his cunting with me and when he got to ten successfully he whizzed around whooping in his wheelchair with hands waving in the air.
Today 7th June 2006
Today was the day that Miftah and I ran our Educational activity day. It was at the Brawijaya museum and we met their early and played on a staionary tank in the otside garden area. The theme for the day was War; A warnign from the past, a lesson for the future. The EAD had both fun and serious parts to it. For example Miftah ran a blindfolded land mine navigation game for his fun part. For my fun part I played on the rooftop 'Bruce's play your cards right'. Yes I dod the nicfe to see you, to see you nice game and used war stats. I started comically like 'whats was the shortest war in history' an finished on a sombre harsh reality of casualty rates caused by warfare. The seious sessions were group discussions about four war related topics. The tipopics were: The enviromental impacts of war, Can there ever be a just war. The after effects of war and The war on Iraq points for and against
We also had a talk by some sargeant major in the Indo army who gave a potted history of Indonesia in the second world war. To finish the day I ran a museum quiz where we let loose the groups to find facts and figures and comical bits and bobs around the museum. One question was who is the dapper man with a moustache that Clark Gable would admire? The answer was that on the lits of Malang mayors over the years there was inbetween the unifromed vivic officials and army generals a man denim clad with a glint in his eye. He was none other than the mayor in the 70's. What a ledge!
To end on a high note this week I saw the touch up midget again! I was on an angkot going into the centre of Malang a while ago and a one eyed Midget (no I am not taking the piss) got on and tried to caress a woman leg. I watched in amaizement as he slowly edged closer and closer until he was almots ontop of her. Shje moved away and he moved closer again. It was pure comdey and his little hand then tried to rest on her thigh. She was of course having none of it and kept moving, but the little fellow persisted. Eventually he realised that he had been clocked by me and sheepishly moved away and sulked. But today I saw him and he saw me. He then huriedly crossed the road t avoid my smile!
Lastly I think I was attacked by lice this week. I showed two British girsl around the pasar basar (underground market) and when I emerged fromthe durty dead chicken infested bird flu trap of a labaryinth I was itching all over. So Every item of clothing I own had to be washed and de-louced!
Well I better be off as I have written far far far too much and if you have reached this far you should be rewarded with a Brucey bobus!
Take care my friends and lovers
Til we meet again
Keep on trucking
Love and tickles
Ben
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Remember 'no, no, no you can't touch the ferret'!