The masseuse

Pratap has been ever so fond of massages… we even had 'Massage Patil' dropping by every week in Mumbai. (his real name was Yashwant Patil but who cared what he was otherwise called). So coming to Jakarta was total bliss - where reflexology and massage is a cultural experience and a regular ritual.

Few days after we settled down our friend IBCN (Indian Born Confused Nepali - for the uninitiated) ventured into the massage room where he was asked to remove his clothes and lie down. In came a middle aged Ma'am, serious looking and all buttoned up till her chin, who then asked Pratap to remove his brief. “No”, he said trying to sound assertive. “Take out” she said “put oil”. No cried out Pratap gripping his briefs with one hand – just incase she rips it off and catches him unawares. “It’s okay”.

The massage progressed with techniques that poor old 'Massage Patil' could never ever have dreamt of. The masseuse used her elbows, knuckles, knees and feet using a mild aromatic oil - almost a numbing and dulling experience. Pratap lay on his stomach till he heard her gently say –“Penis”. “No!”, he said suddenly remembering to grip his jocks. “No!” he heard the woman persist “Penis!”. It was time for Pratap to turn over and get hold of the situation almost breaking out into a sweat. He turned around only to find her waving her arms insisting “penis - penis” trying desperately to communicate that she had finished the massage!

Peace and harmony

Selamat Detang! Welcome to this beautiful land of polite people. You can yell, scream and wave your arms and all you’ll be greeted with is a warm smile and a mystified look. Pratap did try to raise his voice and look tough while behind the wheel - but gave up when all he achieved was high blood pressure and a quizzical, concerned and sympathetic look from a passer by!

My new maid is an angel. We can’t have a disagreement because we can’t understand each other. I was horrified when I learnt that her name was ‘Tantrum’ – but breathed a sigh of relief when I learnt that ‘tantrum’ meant peace and harmony in Bahasa, the Indonesian language. There is undoubtedly immense peace and harmony in the house since she arrived as neither of us speak and there’s very little communication!

Tantrum Tuti is a thirty five year old who has been to school and knows the English alphabets as the script for Bahasa is the same. Tantrum came up with a brilliant idea. (it must be a done thing – as it explains the existence of a white board in the house!) Our daily chores revolve around a white board. With friends we’ve managed to get down some key words and the pointer plays its role as the interpreter. Added advantage is that I am beginning to lose weight – have to keep running to the white board every few minutes – agile out of compulsion and exhausted in the bargain!

Drawing on the white board did not work. You need to be highly skilled to be able to draw a jackfruit that does not remotely resemble a durian. (God!) I could barely make an egg look different from a potato. So would end up having boiled potatoes for breakfast instead of a boiled egg and mashed boiled eggs with chicken roast! The new system is working just fine. Potatoes are called ‘kentangs’. Will learn what eggs are called in due course of time.

"What’s the name of this road?" I asked Tantrum on one of our familiarization trips to the market. “Namma road?” I said pointing to the road. “Aaahh!” she said brightening up (which is a rare sight)– “Street.” “The phone is engaged,” I told her on another occasion… “In Bahasa (we say) – phone bizee,” she informed. ‘Choochee’ is an important word for it means to wash. Choochee bagu means wash the clothes; choochee peering means wash the dishes; choochee kamarmandi means wash the toilet; choochee wartel means wash the carrots! I find myself ‘choochee-ing’ all day!

You’d be surprised to know that Tantrum makes terrific ‘dal’. We’ve mastered words like Bubuk kunyit (turmeric powder), goreng (fry), jinten (jeera), bawang bombay (onions), garm (salt) and I can imitate extremely well the whistle of the pressure cooker to indicate how many whistles it will take for different dals to cook. It might take Tantrum quite a while to learn to make rotis – haven’t figured out how to say “ put equal pressure on the dough with both your hands” in Bahasa. We will learn. Slowly slowly catchy monkey – or should I say ‘slowly slowly catchy Tantrum!’

Long live peace and harmony… and sanity!