The events unfolded as follows: I met a beautiful and talented stylist at a photoshoot in Bali and she just happened to be the famous Indonesian actress, Happy Salma. Happy invited me to Jakarta for a few days. Of course I went. I stayed true to my spontaneous self. I landed in Jakarta not really knowing what the next few days were going to hold. I began to realize that things were unusual when I saw Happy doing an interview. She just seemed so normal and refreshing. Not the kind of persona I would attribute to a famous actress.

Later that night, it became even more noticeable. As we left the shabu shabu restaurant, gypsy kids begging for money came running up to our car repeating, “Laras, Laras”, her character on an Indonesian soap opera.

The next few days are a blur as I try to recollect them. I was whisked from comedy show taping to photoshoot to nightshow taping. Spending quite a bit of time in the car and in make-up rooms switching outfits and changing make-up. We got a lot done in the car. Jakarta traffic is notorious. It’s even worse than Bangkok.

I have seen Asian television before and it has never made any sense to me. I blame language barrier with a cheesy topping. It never prepared me for watching it live. I was in the huge studio watching this whole production take place. I couldn’t believe what I was really watching. I mean the worst slapstick comedy you’ve ever seen. When Happy came out after her guest appearance, I asked her, “what just happened?” And even she had no idea. Well, now I’ve seen it live. And as far a life experience goes, it was one of the most surreal.

Meanwhile, I am beginning to feel as if I am famous for one reason or another. Mostly for the fact that I am shining in the light of Happy’s star and I just happen to be a Boulet (Indonesian for white people). And being Boulet can be a very special thing to be in Indonesia. At the beginning of every live taping they would be mentioning ‘Boulet this’, ‘Boulet that’, and I would look at the screen and there would be my very confused-looking face. I think I was the butt of the joke and the object of admiration all at once. Everyone wanted to know what I was all about.

When Happy gave me a little tourist excursion into Jakarta, we couldn’t walk in a public square without people stopping us both for pictures. One  girl even asked me if she could interview me on her video phone. I, of course, obliged. Even in Thailand there has never been such an earnest curiosity about my blond hair, my light skin, and my American nationality. And here I am trying to learn something about Indonesian’s and their country and all they want to do is ask me about me and my country.

There is a strange projection that you are special because you are to them.

As for Happy, she is the hardest working woman (besides my mom) I’ve ever met. From one photoshoot to the next, she is on and incredibly upbeat.

Since I couldn’t understand the interviews that were being taped or the comedy shows that were being filmed because it was all in Bahasa Indonesian, I began to read the body language really well. I could see right away what a pro Happy was at her job and how comfortable she was in these situations. She was sincere, confident, yet playful. I got lucky. I had met a friend along the way.