Love

I really noticed to be changed when I meet, during my period of vacations, same of my dearest friends from Italy. They have reached me here, in Indonesia, and with them I spent ten days. Ciaooo Eli! Come stai? Salam Aleikum,apa kabar? This last was my response, in Bahasa Indonesia. It has become so normal for me speak Indonesian I have difficulty to speak my native language. Interactions like Ayo, Siap, Waroh mean to each other Let's go, Ok, Oh my god and I will miss them like the air I breath, and with sentence I am not exaggerating. One more month left and my project will be finish and I cannot stop to think that I don’t want leave this place. I m alarmed to go back to “normal” life. But what is the normality? It just the practice to face the daily life. Sound , fragrance , taste, and colors here became also mime. Lets start from the first sound I hear that it makes me open my eyes every morning, my alarm clock, Adzan. It is the Muslim's call prayer and I love it. I have always respected people with a deep faith so that prayer becomes the scanning element of the whole day. Everything stop, shop close the doors, office and school temporarily interrupt their activity for five times a day. And here, after many years I found myself praying too, but it was not my god. Some for fun, some for curiosity, same for I truly believe it, I asked the luckily with the Kendit, a belly belt made of simple cotton thread. The Ibu or mother (old lady capable in healing with traditional Indonesian massage) recites prayers in Arabic and fix that belly belt. The practice is not finished, now is the time for have bath, a luscious shower with flowers and than the interesting part. Incense, cigarettes, sweet tea, coffee,salt water, snack and small money with sacred text for the ancient. I repeated this cerimony for three consecutive days. Every habitant in the village of Tamanjaya have that belly belt. There are people ask for healthy, who pray for a profitable season in the rice field, who ask a beautiful wife and who crave to attack from the Javan Tiger, a leopard that same time make its victims among the cattle. Just a short time ago, ten buffalo were dinners this feared predator. I don’t will talk about my prayer because in this case it would perform.

Smells and flavors blend together in the traditional manner of making Sambal. A sauce made from tomato, onion, garlic, sugar,salt and chili, a lot of chili, using a stone mortar. There are as 300 varieties of sambal, this is the easiest way. This seasoning accompany rice, fish, chicken and I use it also for breakfast.

This was followed by the eye green mirrors of the fields rice. In the dry season harvest of rice become shades of yellow. Yellow like mango, red like watermelon cut, like the sunset on the top of the Mosque that becomes magic. I m in love with this country.


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