spaghetti for breakfast in Indonesia

The end is closing in as I have 2 nights left with my host family here in Yogyakarta before returning to Bali. I have fared well in the random draw of cards. The children in my family are grown and now have homes of their own, so I'm basically alone with my ibu (mrs), bat (mr), and ibu's mom. As people in Indonesia are known to dote over their guests, I feel like the prized only child with grandparents saying, "eat more, eat more!" It's a nice change to be the center of attention, until I get asked about Obama's cabinet or women in US politics. Questions like these make me wish I was a PoliSci major, but then again, maybe not. I do love drawing my feelings in art school...

5 choice host family moments:
1. Breakfast is dinner, but with the added bonus of yogurt
2. The dog, Pepi's, beady eyes staring me down when I eat
3. Bat telling me that I need a rickshaw to myself because of my size
4. My host family having actually heard of Kalamazoo before
5. Learning Indonesian word-by-word with sassy, gun-shootin', can't see straight host Grandma

As awkward as it was at times to come "home" to a family of strangers, my host family did become a safe haven. It's the best sleep I've had since coming to Indonesia and I don't think I'll ever eat as much food in one sitting as I have in the past week (cross my fingers).

And finally, some recent developments:
- starting to rethink that whole move-to-a-busy-city thing
- prefer beverages to come in small sealed container with an attached straw
- impossible to stay up past 8PM

Until next time Yogya.

drawing you during important meetings,
ashley