Who would have thought that I experienced fire in the building. This is my first time living in an appartement. Of course I never chose appartement when living in Indonesia because it’s a real high risk when the earthquake happen. But here we are placed in an appartement. What got me relieved the first time that we are in the lowest floor so if something happen we will be quickly evacuated. That’s what I thought. Until it really happened. We slept around midnight and abruptly woken up by the noise outside. I thought it was the drunk people just got back from night club or the restaurant next door was doing some deep cleaning. So loud that I had to wake up. My husband peeked outside and immediately said “fire brigade outside, you wait here!” I was just “am I dreaming or what?” I put on clothes, checked outside and saw a few of fire trucks. I checked the other side of the appartement and saw a few of police cars and ambulances. “Oh no, something serious...
This is an easy post about multicultural marriage (or relationship). Take it as entertainment if you are in the same situation as ours 😆 Differences always fascinate me. Then I am married to someone from a different culture. It's challenging but also fun at the same time, here's why: One becomes grammar nazi and one becomes grammar police. I can say that he is a kind of polyglot and I speak 4 languages daily (most Indonesians are bilingual already 😉). But we talk to each other in English because my Dutch is super broken, his Bahasa Indonesia is much better than my Dutch but we usually use it for ordering foods in when we are in Indonesia only. So as a fluent English speaker, he always corrects me when I got it wrong. That's totally okay. Only it is not that okay when he did it during the fight 😂 Like how could you do that during the fight? Though I sometimes correct his Bahasa Indonesia when he tries to talk in Bahasa here, ordering something or trying to impress local...