Laughs, Longing, and Lizards: Seven Entries, Endless Lessons

Mar 27

By Ariana Leandry ‘23, Syiah Kuala University Fellow 2023-2025

In anticipation of beginning my Shansi Fellowship, I made the pre-departure decision to buy a notebook. While I wasn't one for journaling before, stepping into this new chapter of my life made me recognize the unique circumstances that lay ahead. This journal wasn't just a personal reflection tool; it was also a means to recount my time abroad with friends and family in the future. Setting a goal for myself, I committed to writing in the journal at least once a day – whether it was a succinct line or a full-blown story, I promised myself that nothing would be too trivial. I kept my expectations modest, fully aware that acclimating to a new environment would present its own set of challenges. However, reality turned out to be quite the storyteller. Having landed in Indonesia on August 1st and settled in Banda Aceh by August 20th, my tiny red notebook now boasts a grand total of seven entries. Please allow me to share these unedited entries with you:

9/03/2023 Decapitated Lizard

“Today I found a decapitated lizard in my room. This must be a sign *note to self, google symbolism of decapitated lizards*. Bad luck has been following me around for weeks now. Tomorrow is Monday. I’m hoping for better days.”

[image not available]

This first journal entry was written during my third week in Banda Aceh. It was a moment of surreal absurdity that perfectly encapsulated the minor inconveniences I had been encountering. At the time, these mishaps felt like a streak of bad luck following me around. As I reflect on this entry, I realize that my initial interpretation of constant bad luck might have been a touch dramatic. It is now clear that those initial weeks were most likely giving rise to feelings of culture shock, an intangible sensation that I struggled to articulate. I still think about this lizard often and hope I don’t find its head.

9/09/2023 Motorbike Mishap

“Day two of practicing my motorbike– I crashed it into a ditch today. Two kind men from the neighborhood stopped to help me pull it back from under the bushes. As I brushed mud off my pants, I tried to maintain a facade of composure, pretending as though I hadn't momentarily wished to disappear. I know learning a new skill takes time, but I have places to be…..”

Following this journal entry, I began riding my motorbike to class. I boasted to my colleagues about how quickly I was learning. However, when they stepped outside to witness my triumphant ride home, I drove straight into the Office of International Affairs sign. In the aftermath, I decided to give my motorbike a bit of a break. It hasn't seen much action since that incident, but don't worry, it's not permanently retired. Instead, it's taking a hiatus, waiting patiently as a featured item on my list of New Year's resolutions. Perhaps the next update will bring news of my newfound expertise.

9/21/2023 Cats of Aceh

“Made a bunch of cat friends today, but at what cost”

International Guest House cats (in order from left to right: Barracuda, Cyllene, and Millie)

This entry puzzled me as I couldn't recall the context. Numerous cats frequent the front porch of my guest house, but I couldn't pinpoint an incident that would make me question the price of our cherished friendship.

I then did a retrospective dive into my camera roll from this date and uncovered the scenario that triggered this entry: Traditional Acehnese restaurants provide an array of small platters with different food options, and you're only charged for what you consume. Here I was, under the impression that the spread presented at a dinner for this year's English Education International Conference was limitless. Unbeknownst to me, I fed stray cats an assortment of chicken, shrimp, and fish. This unwitting gesture became one of my first interactions with the broader English language education community here in Aceh. I feared I would now be remembered as the girl who attracted droves of stray cats to a conference dinner.

10/05/2023 Homesickness

"Today, someone asked me what the hardest part of being away from home is. I can’t say that I’m homesick in the traditional sense; instead, I wish my parents were here to experience these new sights along with me. What I wouldn't give to see my mom’s reaction to the monkeys sitting along the winding roads of Sabang, or take my dad to eat ikan bakar on the beach at sunset."

This question about the challenges of being away from home triggered a moment of clarity – it's not exactly the physical place of home that I yearn for; it's the shared experiences that define it. It is a profound wish to weave new memories together, even in the midst of miles and oceans. This longing reminds me to cherish the moments of everyday life here in Aceh. The bustling coffee shops at night, the mesmerizing sunsets, and the delight of forging connections with my students while sharing laughs and cries in our English Movie Club have transcended mere novelties. The rhythm of life in Aceh has become a backdrop to my own story, enriching it with a diversity of experiences that I'm eager to share when the distance is no more than a memory.

Wow, if only there were a way for me to document my experiences so that I could later share them with my family and friends.

10/06/2023 - Rainy Days

“I arrived at class today, running late with sweat dripping down my face. When I entered the classroom, I found not a single student in sight. I texted our class group chat, asking, “Where is everyone?” One of my students responded, “It's raining, miss.” I guess rain equates to staying home and chilling. Why don’t we practice this in the U.S.??”

My FKIP students and I on our last day of class

Though class didn’t happen, I learned from my students this day. As I took a deep breath and strolled back home with my umbrella in hand, I reassured myself that it's okay to slow down. Embracing the present in every moment holds immense value, not only when things unfold as planned but also when unexpected hiccups come our way. In Aceh, there's this beautiful intertwining of taking things as they come and being grateful for the time you're given.

11/28/2023 Wednesday Lunch

“I got a runny egg with my Indomie today. It was awesome. Feeling lucky.”

While I do believe this entry was merely a comment on my lunch (runny yolk is a rare sight here), it very well may be my favorite entry in my journal. It's the seemingly trivial moments that create a sense of comfort and belonging. A runny egg in my Indomie may not be a groundbreaking event, but it symbolizes a shift from my previous entries about my supposed “bad luck”. As I navigate the ebb and flow of this new community, finding joy in the mundane becomes a compass guiding me toward a sense of belonging. It's the small, unexpected details that serve as markers for the milestones in adjusting to a new environment. Or maybe it's just a runny egg in my Indomie.

12/04/2023 Teaching Flop

“AHHHHHH!!!!! Taught a new class today, and the students were laughing and taking photos of me (with flash!!) from the start. Naturally, I pretended like I needed to print something and went to the bathroom to cry. When I looked in the mirror, there was a giant mark above my lip from the dry erase marker, which must have happened from touching my face after I wrote my name on the board. It literally looked like I drew on a mustache. Like a scene from a sitcom. Horrifying.”

[Again, image not available because I washed off my face and hid from embarrassment]

This journal entry marks a pivotal moment in my teaching journey, reflecting the essence of learning and adapting to a new environment abroad. Entering my fellowship with confidence from previous teaching experience, I believed facing a classroom would be seamless. Of course, it was silly of me to think that way. I wish I could revisit it, embracing the chance to laugh and connect with my students instead of taking myself too seriously and leaving defeated. This memory serves not as an embarrassment but as a reminder while teaching my new classes this semester — a testament to the importance of allowing myself to exist, be human, and embrace the unpredictable journey of adaptation.

The vacancies in my journal speak louder than my entries. There were times when so much occurred, and I gleaned so many lessons from an experience that I couldn't even begin to conceptualize putting it down on paper. So I didn’t. Everyone says this, but it truly feels as if time has simultaneously flown by and stood still, leaving me with a sense of having lived a myriad of lives while feeling like a newcomer who just set foot in Banda Aceh. Despite the challenges, my time here has been a valuable period of adjustment, and I find myself gradually settling into the rhythm of life in Banda Aceh. While traveling during winter break, I bought a new notebook in Chiang Mai, Thailand (as if I had run out of pages in the original one). Both notebooks sit by my bed, ready for the stories that will fill their pages in the coming weeks and months, or prepared for me to write nothing at all.

Oberlin Shansi