I have a vivid memory of myself in PCS purgatory. We were staying with family while waiting on my baby’s visa to be processed so we could get on a plane to Indonesia. I was a terrified new mom, bouncing on an exercise ball, rocking my colicky baby in a dark bathroom with the white noise of the running shower, praying she would go to sleep.
I feel so isolated in this experience, and I’m in my own country, I thought. How am I ever going to survive in Indonesia?
I could have never imagined that this fear would give way to some of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
I am the daughter of a Marine, sister of a Marine and wife of a Marine, so when I say I’m familiar with the military lifestyle, I mean I don’t know any different. However, a move where you need a diplomatic passport? This was a new concept to me. I quickly learned that the spouse of a diplomat is also a diplomat — a representative of the American people.
While initially I was worried to take on that responsibility, being an attaché spouse has turned into a world of international friends and diverse cultural experiences: a baguette and cappuccino with my French friend, badminton with my Indonesian friend, and hilarious chats with my Singapore friend (who has the best sense of humor!). It also means sharing your own culture (“Rae, I’m sorry, what’s a casserole?”).
In the beginning, I was most afraid of parenting abroad. As a nurse, I couldn’t help but think, How could I bring my one and only newborn baby to a country with dengue and unpotable tap water? Navigating motherhood in Indonesia has turned into the best teacher. I watch children absolutely thrive here, and they live a completely different lifestyle than American children. Above all, it has taught me that children are resilient and extremely adaptable.
Raising a baby the American way is a way not the way. It doesn’t hurt that everywhere we go, Ibus offer to hold my baby with a “Gemoy sekali!” (rough translation: “You’re so cute I need to pinch your cheeks or I’m just going to melt”). Maybe your child’s first protein was chicken; my child’s was tempeh from the local pasar. This is reflective of many of our experiences – not better or worse, just different.
The challenge of navigating language barriers, missing home and day-to-day living are minuscule compared to the greatest reward of living abroad: community. Members of the American embassy are eager to be there for one another because, well, we’ve all been there! It seems the isolation I felt in my own country didn’t fit in my carry-on. Our neighbors see my daughter and immediately run to hold her. We laugh about our struggles together, talk about our new favorite coffee shop and share recipes. Like most military postings, the greatest struggle has been being far from family. However, the diplomatic community seems to intuitively know that and does its best to be there for one another. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and this village has open arms.
Indonesia is a fantastic country, but I attribute my positive experience to keeping an open mind and practicing gratitude. Sure, I miss American convenience, but adjusting to Jakarta’s rhythm has opened my eyes. Practicing gratitude is unfortunately very easy in a developing country. I may not have a dishwasher, but I have running water. How can I not be thankful?
Being an attaché spouse and mother in Indonesia has been a journey of resilience, adaptability and gratitude. I think back to the new mom calming her baby and wish I could tell her that, once again, there’s goodness on the other side of the PCS if you’re open to it.
