HOW HOT IS TOO HOT?

By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

I have achieved somewhat of a milestone here in Indonesia. One month into my nine month mission, and I can now sleep, without the air conditioning on.

It’s very tropical and humid here in Banda Aceh. We’re just steps away from the equator. That means it’s hot. And therein lays the struggle.

Usually, it’s a battle between men and women to find a comfortable temperature. Men are always complaining the room is too hot. Women complain it’s too cold.

So, what happens when three women share an office, two of whom are Indonesian, the third, me, Canadian?

Tias and Farrah are used to this climate. They come to work dressed in sweaters, jackets and socks. I, on the other hand, am used to the Canadian climate, which as anyone living there knows, changes periodically. And I can’t say I’ve ever heard it referred to as being tropical.

So, I come to work every day as covered as I have to be in a Muslim country. And it turns out, all three of us are quickly wearing a path to the thermostat. We try to be as environmentally conscious as possible, but we also want to be comfortable. So, I’ll go and adjust the thermostat slightly. But a few hours later, when it’s again stifling in the office, I return to the thermostat, only to find someone else has also adjusted it. Once again I drop the temperature a degree or two, turn around and find my staff have now duct taped sheets of paper to the ceiling vents, blocking most of the cool air from even entering the room. (Red Green would be proud of the duct tape use).

So, I compensate, by moving the floor fan closer to my desk, and when the a/c dies with the main generator, about once a day, on goes the fan.

All of this is done in good humour of course. We laugh about it a lot. I’m not sure how we’re going to resolve it though. Maybe give it a few more months and I’ll be as acclimatized as they are. Then, won’t going back to Canada be a treat?

HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE

By: Kathy Mueller
Info & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

The title kind of describes how I was feeling for four days, recuperating from whatever nasty little bug I had picked up.

During that time, I did venture out one time, to go to the pharmacy. It was nighttime, and the city was alive. Motorbikes were everywhere, zipping in and out of traffic. Their headlights reminded me of fireflies dancing in the summer air.

Perched on many of these bikes are not one or two riders, but sometimes four, or five. Kids, young kids sitting on their parents lap, their tiny arms wrapped around their guardian’s waist.

But there isn’t any fear on their young faces. These children aren’t hanging on for dear life, like I would be in this Indonesian traffic. The children of Banda Aceh grow up on these bikes. It’s second nature to them, much like riding a bicycle is to many Canadian kids back home.

And although I love being on a motorcycle, the feel of the wind in my face, the feel of freedom, I think while here I will stick to vehicles of the four wheeled kind.

Sights, Sounds and Smells II

By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Manager
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

The other day I wrote mainly about the sights of Banda Aceh. But if the sights are all you see, you’re missing out on a lot of this coastal city.

Close your eyes and you’re awash in a symphony of sounds. The hum of the generator, working overtime to keep us somewhat cool in the oppressive heat. The whirl of the motorbikes and scooters as they weave their way in and out of traffic, and the honking of the cars as they swerve to avoid them. In this city, anything goes on the roads. Speed limits are a foreign concept, and driving lanes are just a suggestion.

At sunset and then again before dawn, the call to prayers at the local mosques, as the mainly Muslim population observes their daily prayers.

I was up early this morning, sitting on my balcony, taking in the breathtaking view of the mountains, enjoying the blissful silence. Then slowly, the birds began to wake, the crickets and roosters joining their chorus shortly after.

One sound I will be comfortable never hearing again is the shrill of the earthquake sensors. My house is equipped with the gadgets that will alert me to a tremor in time to get out. In the most earthquake prone zone in the world, it’s highly likely I will hear those alarms again, and in reality, I’m very thankful that they exist. For now though, I prefer the very annoying and seemingly never-ending buzz of my morning alarm clock.