It was a surreal experience. Right away, Mami lightened my skin color with foundation. When I squirmed and started to protest, she waved her hand dismissively and said, “Don’t feel the need to talk”—prompting everyone in the room to laugh. She quickly taped my eyelids so that I had the “coveted” eyelid fold. Using brown shading, she heightened the arch of my nose. And then she put not one but two sets of fake eyelashes on me. By the end, I barely recognized myself.

Here, Dimas described me as "corpse-like."

Tiara’s exact words: “Mami, make her look like a waria.”

The crew dressed up to the hilt.

It was fun getting a makeover, but I must admit that it was also an ego blow to realize that what made me “beautiful” was the refutation of my God-given looks. And ultimately, I was just reminded again of why I prefer the “tomboi” look. Looking beautiful just takes too much time!

For weeks now, my amazing crew has been working overtime without a complaint. Tiara who is doubling as both crew member and subject never lets on how tired she is. When I ask her if she needs a break, she replies indignantly, “No, I enjoy the process!” And when my spirits flag (as they are wont to do when I’m averaging 4 hours of sleep a night), Dimas my assistant says, “Just keep going, Kathy. You’re almost there.” Tonight, driving home at 1am, he turned to me with weary eyes and said with the greatest earnestness, “I hope when you return to America, you make this the best film it can be.” In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to work with.

It’s slowly dawning on me that after three years, it’s all coming to an end. It’s been a beautiful, amazing experience. I’ve learned more than I ever expected—about Indonesia, filmmaking, and myself. I can’t wait to get back to Los Angeles and to turn everything I’ve experienced into a film. We still have a way to go, but the light is at the end of the tunnel.

Dimas is a fascinating study in globalization. His favorite band is Blink 182 and he is completely obsessed with Macbeth shoes, a line apparently created by Tom Delonge of Blink 182. And I mean obsessed. He’s part of an online Indonesian Macbeth fan club and talks incessantly about these shoes. Recently I handed Dimas a camera to take production stills and this is what I got in return:

Trying to endure the mid-day heat

Shooting nearby kids a dirty look

Sometimes I’m struck by how strange I must seem to the local Makassar people. I’ve come a great distance (from Japan, everyone assumes) to spend all my time with transvestites and gay men. I’m traveling alone though I’m a woman and seem blissfully unaware that I’m in perpetual danger. I make strange demands, asking people to turn off their music or restrain their children so that we can shoot a documentary film—a foreign concept in itself. And then there are all the little things that I do that raise eyebrows. Like ask for drinks without sugar (in a country where four spoonfuls of sugar in your tea is the norm). Or get irrationally distressed when I can’t access the internet. And wash my hands to the point where it’s probably detrimental to my health…

Questions Indonesians often ask (within 5 minutes of meeting you) that some Americans may find offensive:

• How old are you?
• Are you married? Why aren’t you married yet?
• How much money do you make a year?
• What religion are you?

We also tend to shy away from comments dealing with physicality. God forbid if you ask someone if they recently gained weight. In Indonesia, people seem to delight in physical differences. The waria, for example, give each other nicknames based on physical attributes. Tiara is known as kodok (the frog) because she has skinny arms and legs, but a round belly. And Suharni is known as cumi-cumi (squid) because of all the silicone injections in her face…

1. Brackish, highly suspect water is common in both scenarios.
2. You should always carry your own toilet paper. And you always pack it out (lest you want to be that embarrassed foreigner explaining to your Indonesian host why your broke their toilet)


Dimas in a fresh shirt

3. Headlamps are indispensable. In Indonesia, they come in most handy when you’re experiencing mati lampu (blackouts) 1-2 times a day.
4. Always carry extra clothing with you. Dimas, my newest and most resourceful production assistant, always carries an extra shirt. Meaning he’s the only one of us fit to be seen in public at the end of the day.
5. Raingear is a must. Especially when it’s musim hujan (rainy season) and heavy downpours can happen in the blink of an eye. Riding on the back of a motorcycle in the pouring rain is not fun, especially when all you can think about is sheltering your raison d’être (aka your camera).
6. Fill up on calories. This is a rule I try to abide by every day. Salads? Who needs them? I start the day off with some heavy nasi kuning (yellow rice with meat, crackers, and egg), take in some mie pangsit (fried wonton noodle soup) for lunch, and then end the day with some coto (oily soup filled with chunks of unidentifiable meat).