I am not dependent on my iPhone. I am not I am not dependent on my iPhone. I am not dependent on my iPhone. I am not dependent on my iPhone.
I am not dependent on my iPhone . . .
. . . or so I thought.
I’ve had my iPhone 4S for about a year and a half and I love it. I don’t care that it’s a “cool” product (or, I think it is), I don’t care that it’s a status symbol (my model is so old that it’s really not anymore), I don’t care that it has the potential to run a million apps (I only have 14). The reason I love my iPhone is because my mum, dad, brother, sister, and closest friends from home have iPhones so we can still iMessage, even though we’re thousands of miles apart. I didn’t realize how important that was until moving overseas in August.
And then my iPhone started to unravel. It grew increasingly glitchy after I installed the iOS 8 update; with the more recent update to iOS 8, my phone became even more temperamental. “I’m going to need a new phone,” I kept telling myself. I just didn’t expect that iMessage crashing would be the reason for the new phone.
A couple days ago I tried to send an iMessage and got an error message that iMessage was deactivated. When I tried to turn it back on, my phone beeped with an error – every 7 minutes. As I was trying to sleep at the time, I grew increasingly frustrated and, in fact, resentful. “Why are you doing this to me?” Silence. A factory reset and reinstalling the operating system did nothing to alleviate the problem. After a traumatic night when the phone wouldn’t even turn on and I had to download a widget onto my laptop to use as an alarm clock, I decided that enough was enough.
In moving overseas, I have learned that there are a few creature comforts and concessions to “the old life” on which I am not willing to compromise. For example, it is imperative that I buy fresh produce, no matter the cost. It is also essential that I can communicate with my family literally with the tap of a finger. (Unfortunately, cost is a factor here.)
Long story short, I am dependent on my iPhone. I’ve come to terms with that over the last few days upon feeling my heart sink every time I think of a quick message to send and realize that I can’t. Looks like this weekend’s shopping will be more than just groceries!
I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I am very shy and very bad at making friends.
The thing is, you’d probably never know. Most of my friends probably don’t even know. It is a huge effort for me to introduce myself to someone new if I am by myself. If I’m with someone else, I’m comfortable, I’m happy, and I’m excited to meet new people. That’s when I make friends. Alone, I shrink into myself, bury my face in a book, avoid making eye contact, and try to pretend that I’m calm and cool and satisfied being alone. Most of the time, I’m feeling the exact opposite. I don’t know what I’m afraid of. I don’t know why taking a chance is so hard. What’s the worst that could happen? Worst is, we have an awkward conversation. So what?
This past week at work showed me what it feels like to be isolated in a building full of people. My last remaining comrade in primary left Malaysia last weekend and I had the privilege of helping her make the arrangements during her last week at school. It’s the least I could do for someone with whom I have the shared experience of being bullied by our boss; every time I mention something that our boss has done, I wonder if the person I’m talking to actually believes me. It’s usually that ridiculous. Thankfully, my friend and her family are back in their home country now. I’ve never seen her and her children as happy as they were when we came back from the airport holding the tickets that had been paid for in cash! I miss her terribly but it’s definitely better for them to be back home.
Without her, I’m definitely lost at work. I rebel, and that’s not going to change, but now I’m rebelling on my own. My remaining friends are in secondary and I don’t see them at all during the day. My other friends are lower primary teachers so we don’t have the same recess and lunch times. Long story short, I am completely alone at work and I hate it. It’s hard to tell what “side” people are on so I can’t say what I’m thinking most of the time. The walls have ears in that building, anyway. Up to this point, I have been incredibly lucky to work in a very tight-knit social studies department. The people in that department were my closest friends at work and having them as colleagues was a wonderful part of my job.
With my friends here, we’ve starting talking recently about our social lives. A very difficult part of that is that they’re limited. The staff at school is quite small and we don’t live in a vibrant, cosmopolitan area with a plethora of opportunities to meet people outside of school. We live in a very small town where everything one would want to do is about an hour away in KL or Melaka. An hour might not be far to travel, but it’s far to go to find somewhere livable, especially since I’m used to Rochester where literally everything is within 20 minutes and I strategically positioned myself in the middle of all of it. While I love my friends here, we all agree that we miss having multiple social groups and social opportunities.
Friends have not been hard to come by here, despite my shyness, because everyone showed up looking for friends. I do feel alone, however, because it’s my first time without a roommate, because my boyfriend lives in another country, and because my closest friends here are a couple. Mitch and I never minded – and honestly really liked – when another friend joined us for a meal or an outing but that’s not the same for everyone and I’m not brave enough to ask. If I were braver, I’d attempt to include myself more often. I’m not braver.
I had a similar experience my first year teaching. I moved back home and started work and graduate school while my friends from undergrad did the same. My friends from high school were finishing their senior years of university. My friends in graduate school had attended the same school as undergraduates and most of them had friends still in the area. I never felt like I fit into that group of people, also because many of them had known each other since undergrad. They never made me feel that way; I made myself feel that way. I don’t know why.
I was very lonely until some my friends moved home the following year. That loneliness led to a series of terrible choices because I was looking for a “go-to” person. My roommates had always been my go-to people and now I was living with my parents. I didn’t feel comfortable enough (why, why?) with any of my new friends to call them up on a Saturday night and make plans, so I just didn’t make plans. I was alone a lot.
Life definitely got better when some high school friends returned to town and I moved in with one of them. We had a social life! We had friends! Most of the new hires at Mitch’s company were our age and because Mitch is great at making friends, I also had new friends! In at least two of our groups, I had the job of Planner, so we always had plans on weekend evenings. Sometimes we’d be with this group, sometimes with that group, and sometimes we’d be with a new group entirely. With at least one person who I know in a room full of people, I’m quite social. I think it’s because I know that I can always join another conversation or wave at the one person that I know. Mitch and I usually spent our nights talking with different people and recapped our experiences to each other on the way home. When Mitch spent months at a time studying for the CFA and people were busy, I’d call my mum. I like being alone for finite periods of time, usually weekday evenings. Otherwise, I prefer to be around people.
Here in Seremban, I’m alone very often and I find it very hard. I’ve never felt isolated before because there has always been someone to call, and sometimes I chose not to. Here, I feel isolated, lonely, and sad much more often that I used to. No one has done anything to make me feel that way, so it’s probably self-imposed. I just don’t know how to fix it.
I turned 25 at the beginning of January and Mitch took me to Surabaya, on the Indonesian island Java, this weekend for my present! This was a very short trip for me. I landed at 8:45pm Friday night and flew out at 12:10pm Sunday afternoon. My flight was originally scheduled to leave at 5pm so I was supposed to have all of Sunday in Surabaya, but AirAsia cancelled my flight and moved me to the earlier one. Ah well, such is life and such is travelling on discount airlines. Nevertheless, we had a wonderful day on Saturday!
Indonesia is laughably cheap, which should also tell you how poor of a country it is. As a result, though, we stayed in a gorgeous hotel with a stunning pool, ate decadent food, and hired a driver to take us up to Mount Bromo, an extinct volcano. Seeing the volcano was the reason Mitch chose Surabaya as the place to visit.
Shots of our beautiful hotel in which we had a king-size bed, delicious cocktails, and ordered room service as a snack:
Unfortunately, I saw basically nothing of Surabaya itself. From sitting in traffic, I can tell you that it’s very dense and not walkable, at least not where we were. The driver on Saturday told us that West Surabaya is the expat area with the international school, so maybe it would have been different over there. We did see lots of cool graffiti, though! This is the only example of which I managed to snap a decent picture from the car:
Saturday was a dreary day, as all of the photos suggest, but the rain didn’t start until about 3 hours into the 3.5-hour journey up to see Mount Bromo, located on the Tengger Caldera. We had been warned that it was not a good day to try to see Bromo, but that’s what we get for traveling during the rainy season. The best time of day is supposed to be sunrise and even there there’s a 50% chance of clouds and rain. We figured we’d make do with what we had to work with and I’m really glad we did! Even though the drive was very long, we got to see a lot of Java that we wouldn’t have seen otherwise. The diver was very knowledgable and friendly, making for a pleasant and educational journey. He drove past the zoo so we could see the iconic statue of an intertwined shark (sura) and crocodile (baya). Who knew?! All of these photos were taken from a moving car, so they’re not the best. Sorry!
One of the MANY mosques we passed on the way
Surabaya has even more motorcycles than anywhere we’ve been in Malaysia, which is saying a lot. Except for the guy in the front of this photo, all other adults we saw were actually wearing helmets! We even saw a couple kids in helmets, which was rather surprising.
Along the way, the driver pointed out a community that had been utterly destroyed by mudslides. No one has been able to figure out how to stop the mud, so now it goes through pipes into a river that leads to the ocean. We saw flattened stone houses, a ruined mosque, and a new road as a result.
We drove through little villages and towns that became increasingly sparse and increasingly agricultural as we got further from Surabaya. The terrain reminded me a lot of our trip to Cameron Highlands. Different trees, though.
The kids walking home from school in their uniforms made me smile. Kids in uniforms are just so adorable.
Painted building that we passed:
Mount Bromo is easily recognizable because it has no top. We were able to see it from one of the two lookout points on the caldera. Had the weather cooperated, we would have taken a Jeep closer to the mountain and gone exploring around and up it, but we had to be contact with gazing through the clouds and rain. Despite those conditions, it was an impressive sight:
Nature is really amazing and rather terrifying if you think about it. My favorite photo from the whole adventure was this one because I think it really captures the awesomeness (and I mean that in the literal sense of the word) of Mother Nature and whoever helps her:
In addition to our volcanic expedition on Saturday, Mitch found an incredible Japanese restaurant inside the Shangri-La Hotel, which is probably the fanciest hotel I’ve ever been in. Our sushi, vegetable, and fish selections were excellent. There were French and Italian restaurants inside, too, and our dessert at the Italian place consisted of red wine and crème brûlée over which the server poured flaming rum. Wow!
Every so often I re-realize how wonderful it is that Mitch and I are traveling and going to new places and trying new things. We really are lucky. Thanks for such a unique birthday gift, Mitch!
Update: Mitch read this post after I published it and made a couple embarrassing corrections. Firstly, Mount Bromo is an active volcano. Secondly, the volcano in the foreground of my photos is not actually Mount Bromo; Mount Bromo is the one to the left with the white cloud-like smoke floating above it. I think I honestly cut it out of most of my photos while I was taking them, but I swear I saw it! I just didn’t know what I was seeing, apparently. Oops . . .
Photos, travels, musings, and ideas on education by someone trying to make the world a better and more peaceful place