Almost: Friendship Goals (Part 1 of 3)

This series is dedicated to the idea of “almost”. It can denote stalwart endurance (or mercy) from ruination. It can imply a wholehearted attempt that failed to achieve perfection or completion. We use it to detract gently in decrements, to not-quite-agree. “Almost” stops one step shy of the threshold.

The next three stories are tales of the “Almost”. They are memorable exactly because they never happened as intended. It was almost meaningful. It was almost functional. I almost got the idea across. Each story is a glorious failure from inglorious ignorance and circumstance. Cheers to the threshold.

The Backstory

We left Indonesia to vacation with friends in Kauai last year. It was a refreshing time. Yet every vacation carries its mental load. Ours was how and when we could find oleh-oleh for our Indonesian friends.

Oleh-oleh are essentially souvenirs. They are usually specialty snacks from the vacation spot. They may also be keychains, magnets, or chotchkies though this is unusual due to cost. Whatever is bought is usually small, light, and affordable because they are bought for the masses. Indonesians endeavor to travel light because they will almost certainly return with suitcases or even crates of oleh-oleh. The full amount depends on the number of friends, neighbors, and family members in the area.

Planning for oleh-oleh is an important part of vacation planning in Indonesia. For example, we planned to only buy oleh-oleh for our closer friends, about eight people. Then some of our neighbors found out. They cheerfully said, “Don’t forget to bring oleh-oleh!” The admonition is quite normal in Indonesia. After all, your neighbors will watch out for your house and receive all your packages while you’re gone. This now meant we needed to buy oleh-oleh for roughly thirty people. The important thing is that everyone in the immediate community is accounted for. Failure to receive something is just cause for offense and hurt. Sensible Indonesians vacation secretly so as to save money and face. We just bought luggage allowance and hauled out the bigger suitcases.

We shopped like madpersons during the last few days of our stay in Kauai. We blitzed through malls, museums, chotchkie shops, and even the nearest Costco. We bought coffee, candies, keychains, and dried fruit. Yet I was determined to find the perfect oleh-oleh for our closest friends.

I ran across a high-end consignment store in the local mall. This consignment store held a vast stock of used, high-quality Hawaiian shirts. I rifled through the section and came upon two that I thought matched two of our friends perfectly. Then my eye caught a third. I pulled out a beautiful, almost-new Hawaiian shirt. It was a durable, roughly-textured black weave with understated white frangipani flowers. Best of all, it was 100% thick, high-quality silk. This shirt was the crown jewel of our oleh-oleh pile. It was a fitting gift for my closest Indonesian friend. We left Kauai with full hearts and suitcases overstuffed with oleh-oleh and things from the US.

Thus began the long process of dispersing oleh-oleh. First, we distributed oleh-oleh to all our neighbors and their families. This was a long process because they wanted to hear every last detail about a place they only know through the internet. Second, we visited our church friends. They welcomed us, fed us, listened to our stories, thanked us for the oleh-oleh, and bade us farewell. We lastly scheduled meetings with our close friends to give them their oleh-oleh.

Almost a Fun Hangout

I was excited to see Agung for two reasons. First, we always play boardgames when we meet. Second, I wanted to give him his shirt, the crown jewel of all our oleh-oleh. I cannot overstate my pride in finding it. The number of times I’ve found a high-quality item for a low price can be counted on one hand. I was thrilled to be able to give it to him! We scheduled on Whatsapp.

We met on a Saturday afternoon. The one table properly sized for a large boardgame was occupied by a corporate party of Korean executives. All other indoor tables were occupied. The soundscape was saturated with bellows of laughter from the corporate party, susurrus of conversation, dialogue from social media videos played by people too sensible to be ruled by social etiquette, and the industrial coffee grinder. Agung hates crowded, loud places. The only thing he hates more than that is driving around for suitable hangout spots.

We thus found ourselves in Starbuck’s smoking area. We played cribbage and nattered about Hawaii as we sweltered in the heat, humidity, and the ever-present whiff of ash. I stared longingly at the air-conditioned interior. It was clear we were not going to play Ancient Worlds. Agung glowered at all the people who had the gall to fill a Starbucks that was almost always empty. He chain-smoked through his growing irritation till the sun was hidden behind his clouds of ash a few hours later.

Almost a Good Meal

We rode his bike to my apartment and ambled up the stairs. Our plan at that point was to drop off the games and jointly decide on a place for dinner. Dana greeted us both upon opening the door. Agung was quite happy to see her. He was even happier to hear that we had enough leftovers for him so he could eat our food rather than paying for his own.

One of the church friends we’d visited the day before is an excellent chef, a kind-hearted soul who always has a jar of homemade sambal (Indonesian chili sauce) ready for friends in need (such as myself). She had made dinner and kindly gave us all the leftovers. It is a testament to the quality of her cooking that the leftovers are just as delicious as when it is freshly cooked.

Dana heated the leftovers and presented it to Agung. Ten minutes later, Agung lifted a piece of meat with his chopsticks and asked Dana, “Maaf, Dana, this is kikil [beef tendon from the legs], right? It’s really good, but the texture is a bit soft…?” We were both confused. There had not been any kikil in the food so far as we knew.

Agung immediately dropped the piece of meat. His chopsticks clanked against the rim of his bowl. He lifted his face to heaven and loudly cried out, “I’m sorry!! I didn’t know, ya?!” Then he bowed his head in abject apology and extended the bowl with chopsticks to me at arms-length.

I laughed in return. “Sure, but my god doesn’t care if you eat pig or not!” That said, I’m pretty sure the Almighty cared that we caused him to eat pig. At least I can plead a lack of intention.

Almost a Good Ending

That was that, the day that was 0-3. We lost a quiet place for boardgames. Agung lost his pork virginity after years of careful abstinence. Then he lost his oleh-oleh from Hawaii. I’m grateful for Agung’s patience. He understood that we loved him, despite that Dana and I had nearly caused him to mortally sin twice in the span of 30 minutes. It was almost a good day, only made glorious because our failures were so comically tragic. Some good still came of that day. Agung remarked, “You should write about this day lah! It’s too funny not too.”

Coda

In that consignment store I found a nice knit Warrior’s cap that I meant to give to Agung for Christmas. I was less excited for that find particularly because it was not Hawaiian. If anything, it’s a memento from the Bay Area. This would be fine except I hadn’t bought it in the Bay Area.

I realize my mind is a bit too anal retentive in this regard. After all, Agung isn’t going to care where I bought it from. It reminds him of me and one of the best basketball teams on the planet. That became his oleh-oleh… from Hawaii. Next time he’s getting snacks.