Are we ever impressed, by both modern telecommunications and my 90-yr-old father.
Last night, as we were doing dishes in the splendid isolation of our 39th-floor Jakarta apartment, the phone rang. We looked at each other: who could this be? The concierge? No, it was HWW, who had checked that Indonesia was included on the list of countries he could call for free on his Verizon international calling plan. What a change from the past! The only (incredibly expensive) phonecalls we ever received from Europe or the States during our two previous stints here were announcements of major events. This was just a delightful chat, as if we still in the London flat, but with rather more exotic details to contribute on our end. Meanwhile, the ice maker at Creek Way had broken (Dad, of course, was able to rustle up a spare plastic spiral the repairman could use), Geretha has a sinus infection, Mom and Geretha have a hair appointment today . . . all the quotidian details we were out of touch with for months at a stretch before.
To illustrate this post in a properly Indonesian way, I'm going to have search out a photo of Dad in the batik shirt he bought during his visit here in -- date will have to wait until he next phones, with both year and month able to be recalled instantly. Not, unfortunately, an ability I've inherited.
We'll get some other photos uploaded soon (from my trusty little Lumix camera that was returned to me right before we took off from Singapore for Jakarta; I went to look for something in my purse and realized I had left it by a bathroom sink in the Silver Kris Singapore Airlines lounge). Modern telecommunications again: cellphone to cellphone, camera back in my possession within about ten or fifteen minutes.