It seems necessary to mention that almost every time i post on this blog, I'm posting from the wireless connection I get at a MEATBALL RESTAURANT. Anyone reading this probably knows about my slightly psychotic vegetarianism, so obviously this is pretty ironic. But their wi-fi is the fastest in Indonesia, I think! Anyway, I always order juice or tea or something lame, spending maybe 30 cents a visit, but the women who run this place don't seem to care too much. They are my Indonesian friends in the same sense that I'm their American friend. It works out.

So, Kitty took a trip to the vet last night. Good old Doctor Kitty has postponed this appointment for a few weeks, so it was a major relief to finally meet this guy. He had three teeth. I counted. In America I think we would be mildly horrified if our doctorate-holding vet didn't find the time to get some drilling or some dentures. But here, well, it's just not a big deal. And the guy had such a way with my little psychotic Mau. She cried at fever pitch during the three minute car ride over to Doc's house, but once she was in his office she calmed the hell down. I couldn't believe it. He even got her to choke down some worm medicine without much trouble, and gave me a free litter box and sand (I'd been having her do her thing in the garden...it's organic and whatnot).

So, more on my Ibu, Lilik. Did I mention before that Indonesians use the same honorific for ma'am, Mrs., and mother? It's so indicative of Indonesian culture. Women are the mommies of Indonesia, not just of their own children, but of their students, their neighbors, their friends. I love having Lilik, and I'm pretty sure I don't come CLOSE to deserving her kindness. She brings me food out of the blue, whenever she comes across something vegetarian or yummy-looking; she drives me wherever I need to go without my asking; she thinks about me, thinks about things I might like to do (we visited the Wonosari tea plantation on Tuesday...during her day off); she checks in on me, but never once in an invasive way. My mom said on the phone the other morning, "She's a better mom than I am!" Lilik wears "full makeup, every day" (which involves bright pink lipstick), glittery jilbabs, and the occasional velour two-piece jogging suit. She has so much attitude, so much pizazz (is this even a word?), but is, at her core, a selfless and loving person. She is truly too good for me, but then again there's no point in complaining.

In other news, I've started correcting grammar of the men and boys who yell at me, "Hey mister! What is your name? Where are you going?" (typical Indo way of greeting). A couple of them now know that "Mr" refers to a man, and they have thanked Ma'am Tori for the grammar lesson. Of course, I can hardly stammer a sentence in Bahasa Indonesia, so what I really end up telling them is "Mister=Putra, MISS=Putri." Nothing special. But after being called "Mister" more than five times, I think the novelty has worn off.