Sate man

Its been a long time since my last post. Ive gotten lazy.
April is almost over. Already. Its slightly mind-boggling in a sense. To think that a year has almost gone by. Too fast. and the state department thought 10 months was long.

I think in one of my earlier posts I mentioned the Sate guy. Sate ayam to be specific (chicken satay). I was waiting for the bus a couple days back and he was working closeby, washing the dirty dishes that came from the tent where the food was served. He had a two buckets of water, one soapy and one clean. I was watchign him when he looked up and noticed me. We exchanged a little smile and head nod of sorts. He went about his buisness.
maybe five minutes later the sate guy was standing around with nothing to do, seeing as the tent was empty of customers at the time. He glanced at me and then walked over and sat down under the bus shelter, immediatly striking up a conversation. "So you like my sate huh?" (the rough translation from Indonesian) We began talking. He learned where I was from and what I was doing, the usual questions from anyone who I meet. Then he began talking about himself. He was from central Java, a village somewhere, I forgot the name. He told me he has been working since he was in middle school seeing as he, nor his family couldnt pay for any higher education. Seeing as they cant go to school, they start work immediatly. He described all kinds of jobs, cooking, cleaning anything and everything. Hes lived everywhere too and now hes in Bogor making Sate in front of my complex. He looks around 18-20 so hes been working like this for a good amount time (probably why it tastes so good) and probably will for much longer. But his shallow pockets dont shake the grin from his face when we talk about soccer or about how delicious his food is. He supports Persija, the Jkt soccer team. I think he lived there for a while before coming to Bogor.
The conversation is cut short by the arrival of the blue and gray bus that I so often ride. We say bye and head back to our buisness, mine a hot and sweaty 30 to 40 minutes on a cramped crowded bus, his washing dishes and cooking for the rest of the night.

It was my birthday a couple days ago. My class got me a futsal ball with signatures all over it from my classmates. I was touched but I dont know how to put it exactly in Indonesian. I just told them I was "senang" which means happy. Not quite right but I think they got the idea. Im gonna miss my class for sure, IPA 4, the bunch of ridiculous jokers that they are.

Thats me tidbit for today. Ill keep em up more regularly. probably.