It took nearly a month of living in Indonesia, but tucked away on the back wall of the supermarket we found this….
bacon. chorizo. three kinds of ham. sausages.
I felt a bit ashamed at my glee at our purchase as the Muslim cashier scanned our items across the barcode reader. I wondered if our desire for a ham and cheese sandwich was somehow disruptive and she’d have to take a break to go pray or clean her hands in a special way.
Somehow hoping it would lessen my guilt and serve as some sort of non-verbal apology, I gave exact change. I didn’t forget to use both hands accepting our bags or to say “Thank you” solemnly in Bahasa.
But then, she just smiled and called the next customer forward.