Almost two months ago, I left my archipelago country of Indonesia. After a flight lasting over 20 hours from Jakarta, the capitol city of Indonesia, I landed in Atlanta, Ga. As a Fulbright scholarship recipient I had four days orientation there which was organized by Community College for International Development. We were taught how to survive in the USA.

Indonesia and U.S. culture are totally different from each other. One day, all the participants visited Stone Mountain Park, still in Atlanta. There was a laser show that entertained hundred visitors about the American life. I just remember there was a scene of Martin Luther King Jr. and at the end of the show the “Star-Spangled Banner” was played. All of the people stood up and put their hands on their chest. I was shocked at how patriotic Americans are. I have never seen such kind of spontaneous action in Indonesia.

After spending time in, and hearing the very unique dialect of Georgia, I landed in Madison, WI. I met my mentor family and roommates. I have roommates from Egypt, Pakistan and India. Can you imagine three languages are spoken when they speak to their family in their home countries? I lost my words and world, but it is so much fun!

I have a decent apartment close to Capitol Hill and a five minute walk to the downtown campus.

We share a kitchen, and I failed twice when cooking. First, I didn’t use oil and boiled over the water when cooking spaghetti. Then I failed when I tried to cook pizza. I put it in the microwave instead of baking it in the oven. I couldn’t eat it because it became so bad and tough.

I am the first one who set off the alarm. It happened in the morning when I felt hungry. I tried cooking my bread in the microwave. I thought it was a fire alarm and it made me panic.

Smoke and burnt bread smell filled the room. I opened the windows and the door in balcony, and then it stopped. That accident made me scared. For some days afterwards I didn’t cook and became addicted of to Subway sandwiches.

Finally, I carefully explored the microwave. I found that if I want to warm the food, I should push the reheat button. I don’t know if my fellow students know about that procedure. One month after that, I found one student who wanted to reheat Indonesian food by pushing the cook button. I heard two alarms ring in my room.Asking is a part of American culture, which for many Indonesians is still a shameful action. If I asked my apartment manager from the beginning about how to do this and that, these accidents wouldn’t happen. Also, if I did that, this story wouldn’t have happened as well