barack hussein obama

unfortunately, i did not get to see the inauguration yesterday.

because unfortunately, it was on tv in the middle of the night here.

and unfortunately, i do not own a tv.

fortunately, the history teacher streamed it online and showed it during u.s. history.

unfortunately, we have very slow third world internet.

so unfortunately, we only saw the first 10 minutes of obama's address. (it buffered for 7 hours!)

this was my favorite part.

obama: we remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things.

me: uhmmmmm.......

mike: i think that was a little out of context.

me: uhmmmmmm........ yeah?

obama: ....that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness....

me: uhmmmmm......

mike: yeah.

me: does he THINK he's quoting scripture?!

mike: oh yeah, that's in second jefferson, i think.

right.

i took a picture.
for history's sake.

in history class.

in this picture, there are:

a dutchman

3 koreans

a brit

an afghani

an indonesian

2 americans.

*EDIT*

after writing this, i was talking to an american friend serving in indonesia...

he summed up both of our feelings about the inaugural address spot on.

"reminds me how americans are characterized by pursuing what they think is happiness. and how sacrificing a little of that ideal is never done for the good of america, let alone the rest of the world. all in the name of upholding a 'right' that we inherently possess solely because of our place of birth."

i thought about that for a long time. and all i was eventually able to say back was "amen and amen."

Weather forecast for Friday, 16 January 2009.
Predicted highs.
Waterloo, Indiana, USA = 0 degrees Farenheit
Semarang, Jateng, Indonesia = 84 degrees Farenheit

but you can't sleep.....

At about 2 AM, I was feeling pretty amazed at how much I accomplished after midnight compared to how much I accomplished all day BEFORE midnight. I am undoubtedly a night person. Too bad I don't often have the luxury of being a night person here. Anyways, I made an impressive list. But then I just kept going and going and going and going. It's 9:30 AM now. I'm still not tired. Here's my lists.

List 1 (Or: Things I did before midnight)
Woke up at 12:36 (Don't judge me. I'm still sick a little. I definitely needed extra sleep.)
Took a shower.
Ate an apple.
Sporadically watched 6 hours of The Office while doing a cross-stitch gramma sent me.
Played guitar.
Ate a tuna sandwich. (First meat since being sick!)
Walked up to school to check my email.

List 2 (Or: When I come alive)
Fixed the decorations in my room.
Hung up my mirror that has been sitting on my desk since I got here. I used tools.
Put all my Yiddish magnets on my refridgerator.
Fixed all my candles that swallowed their own wicks.
Rearranged my lemari (wardrobe/shelving) to open up more room for books/dvds.
Cleaned out the fridge.
Cleaned my house.
Killed a lot of ants.
Swapped out computer batteries in my laptop. Put the old one back in. The charger is bad.
Wrote out three weeks worth of lesson plans.
Did three weeks worth of Math 7 homework. (The power was out and I was working by candlelight at this point)
Called home and located a paper I need, via Kyley. (Thanks)
Ate dinner. (Seaweed and cold rice!)
Read my Indonesian dictionary and learned a few new words.
Took some pictures in the dark.
Wrote a math quiz.
Brainstormed and typed up guidelines for 2 different quarter projects.
Played mahjongg.
Played guitar.
Had a brilliant idea for my class bulletin board.
Changed my handwriting. Again.
Freed up a ton of space on my hard drive.
Got the pick out of the inside of my guitar. Finally.
Made Chai. And drank it. Duh.
Read the first 20 chapters of Around the World in 80 Days.
Did situps.
Got dressed.
Walked to school.
Typed this dumb list.

Church starts in 30 minutes.

in all my talk about bali, i totally forgot to mention anything about the flight there. or, more accurately, the flight security in the jogja airport. let me list my favorites.
1. mari had water bottles in her carry-on. and got to keep them.
2. i set off the metal detector, so they pulled me aside to wand me. i set the wand off in the general area of my right pants pocket. they waved me on anyways.
3. when i checked in and went through three security checks, i never once showed a single form of id.
4. i was never asked to remove my shoes.
5. i left the airport and came back in without getting security checked.

i watched the curious something or rather of benjamin button last night. it's a movie. and that's not its actual name. i just can't remember it right now. it was long, but actually a rather good story. i understand it's still in theaters in the states. there were subtitles. in english. done by indonesians. these ones were, however, better than the ones in meet dave (see some other blog i wrote on some other date in recent history). they at least tried to write what they heard. it's understandable. i mean, even native english speakers have trouble sometimes. take the old creedence song, for example, "there's a bad moon on the rise". don't worry dad, i think it says "there's a bathroom on the right" too. some subtitles and (actual lines) from the movie. the only ones i can remember, sorry.

i'm old enough for love things (i'm old enough for a lot of things)
you look fantastic (you're a lucky b*****d)
she had a 2,380 kg baby (she had a 6 lb 4 oz baby)

and that last one is especially funny because here in indonesia, a period is a actually comma. so what it really says (american style) is a 2.38 kilo baby. which is, in fact, 6 pounds 4 ounces. (i checked)

new years eve

New Year's Eve. It deserves its own blog, really. How eventful... First off, all the girls wore dresses, which was fun all by itself. Also, by this point, we had accumulated about 15 friends, so we had quite a crowd going. Also fun. The evening's adventures began with dinner. Indian food. a-MAZ-ing! Yohanes told us that the restaurant was about a 30 minute walk away from our hotel, so we all set out in high hopes, knowing that we were hungry enough to get us there in 20 minutes. An HOUR later, we arrived, sweaty and famished. Between the food and the company, the walk was well worth it! (Cashew curry chicken and garlic naan? Divine!) After eating our fill and spending a bit of time just relaxing and conversing, we decided to change locales. We paid up and left the restaurant, stopping briefly on the way out for Yo to buy some obnoxious noisemakers from someone on the sidewalk. One for everyone! We also took about a hundred pictures to commemorate the blessed event, much to my chagrin.

In high spirits once again, we began the arduous trek back. As we neared the heart of Kuta (the highly tourist-y/resort-y/ritz-y area of Bali where our hotel was located), we encoutered throngs of people heading out to clubs and parties all over town. The place was a mess. So we took the road less traveled - a side street that took us directly to the beach! Without ever really discussing it, we unanimously decided that this was the place to be. I mean, there were fireworks and firedancers. What else could we need? The beach was absolutely packed. I actually never even saw the water, which became a bit of a concern for me as people started shooting off random fireworks from within the crowd. Unlicensed unprofessionals shooting off things that explode just a few meters over my head does not instill a sense of safety in my heart. Or liver. Or any other internal organ. Oh well.

As midnight approached, we realized that every single one of us had a different time on our handphones. Did anyone actually know when the new year would arrive? We made the best of it and counted down the new year at least 4 times, much to the amusement of the Indonesians around us. I took that opportunity to call Katy, my bestest and dearest friend with whom I have spent every New Years since about 1997, give or take. (I heart you.) Unfortunately, by this point, the crowd was so loud that I couldn't hear her, but she could her me wishing her a selamat tahun baru at 1:00 in the afternoon. Time zones are funny things. Shortly after that, a roar of voices came from behind us, which spread like a fire fueled by a powerful accelerant down the waterfront. The new year was finally here. Or at least someone had managed to convince us that it was.

After much general gaiety and thousands more pictures taken on the beach, Peco remembered an earlier desire that I had expressed for ice cream. So we went to McDonalds, conveniently located across the street from the beach, where he kindly bought me an ice cream cone. I have not had soft-serv in 6 months. Oh, man..... Here, we accidentally met up with even MORE friends of ours from Salatiga who were holiday-ing in Bali, and we hung out for a bit, watching the beach crowd disperse. After awhile, we were ready to head back to our hotel, none of us being the party/club type. So we walked to our road, conveniently located right next to McDonalds, conveniently located across the street from the beach.

There were a lot of people on our road. So many, in fact, that they formed an impenetrable wall. The whole road is about 4 meters wide and is walled in on both sides, thereby forming a chute of sorts. A chute that was completely plugged and entirely impassable. Our hotel was about half a kilometer down this road. We decided to see how far we could get, but some important looking guys started yelling at people to turn back and get off this road. So we went back near the McDonalds and pondered our course of action. Shortly, Peco and Yohanes, who we had previously left at the McDonald's, joined us. Quickly assessing the situation, they decided we should try again. So we did. It was a mess. Our group got separated in the crowd, and I found myself at the tail end with Peco and Yo. In about 15 minutes, we made it no more than a meter or two into the human wall, with more and more people coming from behind, pressing us forward, a direction in which we could not go. It was a very hot and claustraphobic experience. The guys took excellent care to protect me. In a crowd that tightly packed, I don't think anyone even brushed against me, so good were they at defending my right to breathe. Faced with the realization of how long it would take us to reach our hotel, we decided once again to turn back.

Finding ourselves again at the waterfront, we decided to walk farther down the main road and take the long way around back to the hotel. But not until Yo took 50 more pictures. It is quite a walk, but we figured it would be much quicker than waiting for the crowd to thin out. And it was. There were still masses of loud and drunk people everywhere, but we made it back to the hotel easily in less than 30 minutes. We were hot, tired, and sweaty. So we all ran to our rooms, threw our suits on, and jumped into the pool! Eventually, other friends started trickling back from their arduous walk, and so enticed were they by the pool, that they all jumped in with their clothes still on! Now, why didn't WE think of that?? We were having such a good time that the hotel guard had to come tell us to be a little quieter. Because who is asleep at 2 AM on New Years Eve in Bali?!

After cooling off and drying off, we all went to the guys' room to hang out on their massive balcony. One by one, people said their goodnights as the hour became too much for their sleepy eyes to bear. By about 3, only Peco, the 2 South Africans, the German, and me remained. By 5:30, when we were all still wide awake, we decided that we should definitely see the first sun rise of the year. But where at? Kuta is on the west side of Bali - not a good place to see the sunrise in all its glory. But wait! - Sanur! It's on the East side of the island! Yup. We definitely woke a taxi driver up at 5:30 AM so he could come pick us up and drive us across the island just in time to see the first amazing sunrise of 2009. Once it was up, we all realized how incredibly tired we were, so we all came home and went to bed. All before anyone in the States had even finished their New Years Eve dinner. And THAT..... was New Years.

in which i emerge from my cave

so. i got back from bali on saturday morning.
the 18 hour bus ride was actually great.
got to ride a ferry to java at sunset.
i even saw orion! my favorite! he was upside down.
got to hang out with some good friends.
got to see more of indonesia.
got to eat supper at midnight.
got to sleep a lot.
got to almost die like 27 times.
excellent.

chilled sunday.
had movie/pizza night with friends on monday.
barfed my guts up on tuesday.
writhed in pain on my couch on wednesday.
vowed never to eat pizza again on thursday.
i can't wait to see what friday holds in store.

so we made some friends.
zubs and jay.
they're from south africa.
they were in our car that took us white water rafting.
we've been inseparable ever since.

the day we met them, we invited them over for dinner.
we cooked spaghetti.
but then the power went out, so we couldn't cook.
so we sat in the dark and talked.
right as we were in the middle of expressing our relief over bali not having 17 mosques sounding call to prayer right outside our backdoor 5 times a day, we discovered that they are muslim.
oops.
we then also realized that we had put pork sausage in the spaghetti sauce.
oops again.
so we had some good laughs.
then we had some good talks.
we've had lots of those in the past few days.
and soon they're coming to visit us in salatiga.
because they're world traveling right now, on their way to lombok for three weeks next, and what's a little jaunt to our town gonna set them back?
nada.

i'm excited for more good talks.
and some pork-less meals.

hi.

hey hey hey hey

I'm in Bali!
It's like another country.
Everyone speaks English.
And I haven't seen this many whiteys since I left the States!
Haven't found any Americans yet.... Everyone is Australian or European.
I've impressed the locals with my Indonesian abilities, which is nice.
At the very least, I get better prices on stuff.

Well, I should go now.
This internet usage is costing me a whole 1 cent per minute.
And I smell rough.
Just got back from the beach.
THE BEACH!

and now the moment you've all been waiting for

monday was the school christmas celebration (natalan) that the national staff put on. every year, they choose some lucky new teachers (maybe they assume we're too naive to know what they're up to) to be greeters for the blessed event. naturally, i was one of the "lucky ones". i got to spend three hours getting layers of makeup put on, my hair teased and hairsprayed, my torso bound up so i fit in the corset, and jammed into a sarong so tight i couldn't walk. and oh yeah, high heels were involved. i spent the next several hours shaking people's hands, saying "selamat datang" (welcome), "selamat sore" (good afternoon), and "selemat natal" (merry christmas). what a great time. hotjaga ended up with my camera, via yohanes, and he did a really good job with it, so that's exciting. so here's some pictures for you. i do like to spread christmas cheer, but try not to laugh too hard. someone actually told me, "If we were in L.A., I would probably mistake you for a man."

Disgusted by our outfits....




















My, what big hair you have....
















Paul: This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!
Me: That's what I'm counting on.

the rain is getting to me

I spent a good part of the morning de-molding. It started with my backpack. Last night, I looked down at it and realized that things were growing all over it. So I threw it in the shower to sit overnight. This morning, I saw that the two pairs of leather sandals I bought in Africa had whole biospheres growing on them. Then I checked my pair of Champions I left by the door after I got them soaked through (I had to wring out my socks) while walking in the rain last week. Sure enough. Green. Inside and out. So I got those things all washed out and threw them out on the lawn to roast in the sun for a few hours. Then I went to eat breakfast. I went to cut off a hunk of bread from this most delicious loaf I have. And I mistook my cutting board for some sort of Terrier sitting on my counter. So I scrubbed that, then left it to soak in bleach in the sink. I ate my bread, then went to fold some laundry that my pembantu hadn't gotten to last week. As I was hanging up a skirt in my lemari (wardrobe type thing), my hand brushed against a Golden Retriever. A WHAT?! In my lemari?! No, actually, it was one of my dresses. Quite fuzzy, I'd say. That went into the hamper. Immediately. Ugh.

"Welcome to rainy season." - Marie

Meet Dave

So the other day, I watched Meet Dave, an American movie done in English. For some reason it also had English subtitles. So that's easy enough for the subtitle writers, right? I mean, just write down what the actors are saying, and you're done. No translating or anything. These guys take their jobs pretty seriously though, and they made it a LOT harder than it needed to be. I actually suspect that the movie was first translated into Indonesian and then BACK to English, because the supposedly English subtitles were actually a mix of Indonesian words and bad English grammar. Some of my favorites go as follows.... The subtitle is in quotes, with the actual line in parentheses.
"Permanent at your place!" (Stay right where you are!)
"This stood planet unanimous with us." (This planet rocks.)
"I shall blow up your head." (I don't know you that well.)
"Security outside sky." (Homeland security.)
"I am captain jam in." (I'm stuck.)

Today was the last day of finals, and all the kids left. So it will be pretty quiet around here for the next 3 weeks. Or at least it'll be as quiet as the most densely populated island in the world can be. I got some sweet Christmas gifts from students... One gave me one of those giant plastic candy canes filled with little candies. Yum! One gave me a loaf of homemade bread, which I can't wait to eat. I got some incredible homemade cards and candies. However, what was possibly the most memorable gift was the plastic bag filled with Korean food, complete with three bags of seasoned seaweed, a dish of noodles (like ramen, but infinitely better), some small candies, packaged cakes, and, of course, chopsticks. Thank you, Glory.

teacherhood

I've been grading papers. That's right - the math teacher. Grading papers. I assigned my two Algebra II classes a project.... They had to do/count/measure something 10 times, plot the points on a coordinate plane, then use the graph to find an equation for whatever it was that they originally did. Then they had to write a paper on it. The only stipulation was that the graph couldn't be a straight line, because that would be too easy. So, for example, several of them had the idea to exercise hard for awhile, then stop and take their pulse every minute for ten minutes.... It declines nearly exponentially until it plateaus at the resting heart rate. At any rate, some of these papers are real beauties......

"To start this project, I had to get data first. I was thinking about what to do. Finally, I decided to time every three pushups I do. I had to do that for ten times. It was very tiring. After I got all the data, I plotted those points on a graph, and it was a line. I was very disappointed. I did thirty pushups. That was not even funny."

"As I think to those ugly times, I can feel the pain inside my stomach." (This from the boy who timed himself drinking 100 ml of water 10 times. That's an entire liter in less than 5 minutes!)

"While I was doing it, I spilled water all over my shirt, only because it was the teacher's water bottle. . . When I was doing it, she took pictures with the big, black camera." (Same boy)

"After finishing, I went to the restroom three times at school, but before I finished, I went twice. At home, I went to the toilet five times, which makes it that I went to the toilet 10 times after I did this project." (Still the same boy. Obviously.)

"I'm glad Christmas break is almost here! Yay! Merry Christmas, Miss!"

"Since if I plug in 10 for x in my equation I will get 51.45 for my heart rate. If I keep adding up the minutes, I'll eventually die in one hour!"

"The Effects of Gravity on a Scooter and Rider with Little Forward Motion Caused by the Rider on a Fairly Evenly Sloped, Rough Road. " (One kid's project title)

"Then, taking long, comfortable strides (since I was not confident in my own ability to keep my strides constant), he would walk back up to the original starting point while counting his steps."

"So that means that if I did 35 jumping jacks, my hart rate would be 1,276 hart beats per minute."

"I seriously didn't know what to do for this massive project. I figured that checking my pulse ten times every minute after an exercise would be the easiest of all. I went down to the gym and played basketball with my little dorm fellows. After thirty minutes, I still didn't feel like my heart was beating faster, so I played my favorite sport, soccer, instead. But because I was goalkeeping, my pulse slowed down completely. So I ran a suicide and four laps." (By Steve, the best goalie ever who is moving to America in a week and I cried like a baby when I found out)

"Readers beware, without a high (indeed, a higher) level of mathematical education, one will not be able to comprehend the intensive mathematical processes that I used to discover the effects of a power on the number 2."

"I then proceeded to attempt to plot this data on a graph. It was rather difficult, seeing as how one point goes up to (8, 256). However, I persevered through the trial because, as Paul put it, 'Consider it pure joy, my brothers whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance' (Paul/God 1)."

"I then hoped desperately that the teacher is in a humorous mood when she reads this and grades it.... I hope any points she takes off will be justified by an error in calculations on my part, and not her prejudice against creative writing and humor expressed through an Algebra II project 'typed description' (Teacher 1)"

"This is my equation. Take it away from this scrap of paper, apply it to your life, and you will find success in all you do."

JiHyun, the water drinking wonder. See the pain etched on his face.




















Kang running circles around my room to get his pulse up after doing pushups resulted in a straight line, as taken by Jimin.

you pierced your WHAT?!

so when i was 14, i got my first piercing. in the top of my left ear. in terminal tower. a building that is actually sinking. in cleveland. 8 years ago, back when nobody actually had their cartilage pierced. back when i was cool. even though i was only getting one hole put in me, they had no protocol for selling only one earring, so i had to buy a pair.

i used that same pair when i got my second hole at age 17. well, i used one of them. in a tattoo parlor in fort wayne. i just had the guy sterilize them and put one right through my ear, below the first one.

so last night at 10 o'clock, when my judgement was probably already impaired, i decided i wanted to pierce my earlobes, like normal girls. i mean, i already bought some sweet earrings in africa last year, so why not?

in keeping with tradition, i decided to use the same studs as the last two times. but i needed to somehow clean them first. i didn't really have any cleaning agents in my house. except for bleach. but i didn't want to shove something bleach soaked into my body. so i used listerine instead. i checked the label. third ingredient: alcohol. i don't know if this is the same listerine they market in the states, but it's powerful. i have to water it down to use it or else it burns too bad and i can feel it decroding through my tongue. i figured that would suffice for the earrings.

so i let them soak for an hour while i graded papers, like a good teacher. then i dried them off, numbed my ears with ice cubes until i couldn't feel my head, and the rest is history. they didn't even bleed. i did good. real good.

like mother, like daughter.

don't think too hard

Yesterday I was planning on teaching Spanish class the Spanish lyrics to some Christmas carols. So I chorded the songs out, brought my guitar to school, and was sitting on my desk before class, tuning and playing through the songs to make sure I remembered them. JiHoon, one of the Spanish students came in and came up to my desk and watched me for a minute, then pulled his wallet out of his pocket and began fishing through it. I wasn't really paying attention to him, until he handed me a 1000 bill.
JiHoon: Sorry, I don't have any coins.
Me: What's that for?
JiHoon: You're playing guitar.
So I should be a street musician. I could make money.

Another gecko died in my room yesterday. Right on my desk. He was ailing pretty badly, and having some serious respiratory and bowel issues, but there's a slight chance that I was the one who actually put an end to it all. On accident. The cleaning man is a witness, and he was the one to pronounce the little guy dead (I now know how to say "the gecko is dead" in Indonesian. What a learning experience. "Cecak mati") and take care of the body. This is 4 geckos that have died in here, I think. I checked with the previous teacher, who is now in the States, and he said he never found dead geckos. It just must be me.

feelings

in an amazing feat of self injury, i somehow managed to trip on perfectly flat dirt and fall in such a way that i scraped up the top of my foot and sliced the skin in between my toes. so now every time i take a step and my toes move even slightly, the open wounds rub the other toes and it feels like something sharp is stuck in between my toes. kate is right - these kinds of things happen only to me.

remember my friends, charles and marie? - the ones who are getting the baby. well, sometimes i just have feelings about things. and in this case, i wasn't the only one. some of us... we knew. charles' dad has been sick for awhile. we knew his dad would die and the baby would be born all at once. and that is exactly what happened. the mother went in to labor as mr. h took his last breaths, and an hour later (ONE hour!) samuel was born. charles and marie went from saying their goodbyes at a hospital in semarang to pick up their son in a village near kopeng. he is beautiful. i held him. he is dark, dark, dark. i'm convinced his dad must be papuan. God had His hand in this. maybe both of His hands. every little detail was just as we had prayed...

conversation last week at lunch:
carolyn: (one of the new girls) have you learned much indonesian since you've been here?
me: here and there.... i can barely get by, but i can't really have a conversation.
*peco, a grown man, climbs under the table*
mega: orang gila! (crazy person)
me: ¡es verdad! (it's true)
carolyn: well, it sounds like you speak it pretty well.
me: thanks. that was spanish.

jam karet

12:00 PM
yohanes: you wanna go to lunch with us?
me: sure, where at?
yohanes: kayu arum
me: oh... is that the lunch with the family of the new student?
yohanes: yeah
me: is it gonna take forever?
yohanes: no
me: ok. i'll come. sounds good.

4:00 PM
yohanes: i think that was the longest lunch i've ever had.

Wedding

I have this friend named Phydel who got married this weekend. She called me up on Thursday and asked if I could help. I've never been to an Indonesian wedding, but I've heard the horror stories... I was hesitant, but I have this moral issue about saying no to a bride on her wedding day. I just can't do it. And plus, I just plain love the girl. So I said yes.


The original plan was to have me dress in traditional clothes and serve as the greeter/guest book attendant at the reception. I pointed out that I really don't speak Indonesian, and she assured me that if I knew "selamat datang" (welcome), "terima kasih" (thank you), and "silakan" (please do), that would suffice. I don't know if I was more intimidated by the thought of having to speak a language I don't speak all day or having to wear a traditional outfit...


Luckily, I had to do neither. It was decided that my American... umm... figure... probably wouldn't fit in an Indonesian corset. And I had my own clothes in the appropriate wedding colors. So I just wore those. And when I got to the reception, there was already someone else greeting, so I laid low and hoped no-one would notice that I wasn't doing my job.


However, this does not mean that I was off the hook. The day before the wedding, I was talking to Phydel, and I mentioned to her that if she wanted, I could take some pictures in the morning of people getting ready before the actual photographers got there. That made her happy. So that made me happy.


I got up and dressed at 6 on Saturday morning, and a girl who looked to be about 12 came and picked me up on a motorbike. I thought we were going to die on the way to Phydel's house, but we made it. The girl dropped me off at the front gate and sped away. There were crazy women everywhere running around trying to get everything ready. And none of them spoke a lick of English. So I finally found the groom, Wisnu, and was able to ask him where I should go. He took me to the room where Phydel was getting ready. She was in there with a few other girls and her hairdresser/makeup artist. We laughingly referred to him as "the woman" all day. He was probably more ladylike than me. He also knew how to curse in English. Oh good, my native tongue.

I watched Phydel get ready for a bit, but then she decided I should go take pictures of everything else that was happening. So I left the safety of English speaking people and ventured out into the house. However, there seemed to be nothing happening and nobody was around. So I returned to Fidel and explained the situation. After some thought, she remembered that all the ladies had gone next door to get ready. So she sent me there.

Awkward moment of awkward moments. A little white girl with a big camera walks into a room full of Indonesian women frantically trying to make their skin whiter and their hair bigger. And of course, none of them had any clue who I was and none of them spoke any English. So they decided to feed me. Bread. And bread. And bread. Then one of them thought to ask if I wanted a drink. I said yes please. So they poured me a glass of tea. But after much discussion and staring at the glass of tea, it must have been decided that it wasn't good enough, because they set it down and poured another glass. The same discussion ensued and ended with them opening the tea pot and taking turns peering in. It must have all been faulty, because I never did end up getting a drink. I also never ended up taking many pictures either, because I raised my camera once to take a picture and one lady started yelling. Maybe they didn't want the white stranger taking pictures of them half made-up? I don't know. So I sat there in uncomfortable silence for about 45 minutes until a little girl came in and told me Phydel needed me.

At this point, the professional photographers had arrived, so Phydel asked me to take some more formal portraits with Wisnu and other family and friends. I acquiesced, much to the chagrin of the pros who shot me murderous looks from across the room. After many pictures and some sort of formal ceremony that involved the bride, groom, and female family members marching down the driveway while a man prayed in a very loud voice, we all got in cars and drove to the church.

I was directed toward one of the last cars to leave. We left, and about 5 minutes later, the driver declared that he actually had no idea where he was going. Shortly thereafter, we realized that every single person in the car was from out of town. So they turned to me. The foreigner. Luckily, I had been to the church once before, and I kind of-sort of-relatively knew where it was at. And luckily, I know how to say "left" and "straight" in Indonesian, but not "right". So also luckily, one girl in the car spoke some English. We made it. Eventually.

And the rest is history...

last week i was out to dinner with about 10 friends.
i was sitting at the end of the table, and everyone was laughing and talking.
as i sat there looking at them, i had a moment.
a moment in which i realized that if i were not sitting right there, nothing would be different.
if i had never come to indonesia, they would all still be sitting exactly where they were sitting, laughing and talking.
i could mentally remove myself from that table, from that restaurant... and everything was the same.
it was a little disconcerting.

but then i began to wonder about how many millions of other places in the world i'm not at right now, and how many other things are the same, without knowledge of my existence. i want to go to all of them. life is not quite long enough.

find me a find, catch me a catch

There's these 4 ladies here who have decided to take me under their wing. . . and find me a husband. Four matchmakers. This should be interesting. They are all acting seperately, and until this weekend, none of them knew what the others were planning. But somehow, they all chose the same guy. Two of the ladies were conspiring together this weekend, and I was notified that there will be a spring wedding. I'll keep you posted.

I went to buy pulsa (minutes) for my phone this weekend. Twice. Somehow the first pulsa got eaten by my phone. The first time was pretty standard. I stopped at a warung, told them what carrier I used, and then wrote down my phone number and how much I wanted and they added it to my phone. The second time was a little different and complicated.
Me: Ada pulsa Mentari, pak? (Do you have Mentari phone minutes, Mr?)
Him: Yes. What is your number?
Me: Uhmmm... Kosong-Delapan-Lima-Delapan-Enam-Lima-Kosong-Enam-Satu-Delapan-Dua-Lima.
Him: OK. How much pulsa would you like?
Me: Lima puluh ribu.
Him: Alright. Hold on a minute..... *he uses his phone to send the pulsa to my phone* Check your phone please.
Me: Ah..... Hape di tasku... (My phone is in my bag (which had to be checked at the entrance to the store))
Him: Ohhhhh...... Your pulsa is there.
Me: Terima Kasih!
Him: Thank you.
It wasn't until I'd walked away from the counter that I realized that everything HE said was in English and everything I said was in Indonesian. Dumb, dumb, dumb...

Rumor has it they found a girl's body partway up the mountain last week. Her legs were chewed off. They think it was a tiger. A TIGER!

I ate lunch at Pizza Hut on Friday. PIZZA HUT!

Four new single white girls moved to town last week. Now the single white girl to single white guy ratio in our community is 20:4. That is just great.

I started wrapping Christmas presents last night. It made me kinda happy. I hope the gifts arrive in the States still wrapped. But just in case they don't, I didn't do a very good job. I'll take a picture anyways.

I had Thanksgiving lunch on Thursday.
With a Puerto Rican, an Afghani, a Japanese, 2 Koreans, and 5 Americans - 4 of whom have lived in Indonesia for the past 20 years...

I want to be grown up.
I'm tired of always being the kid.

good morning, sunshine

i spent most of last night basking in the glory of my new best hobby - cream baths.

basically, a cream bath is where you go to a salon and pay a really really good looking asian man $2 to wash and (attempt to) comb your hair. he then puts all kinds of fancy, good smelling creams in your hair and leaves it to soak. however, during that time, he spends about 30 minutes massaging your neck, shoulders, back, and arms with hot oils and lotions. then he shampoos, rinses, and dries your hair, and you are good to go. the whole process takes about an hour and is basically marvelous.

however, when i woke up this morning, i couldn't help but second guess its benefits...

the things we do...

weekend adventure #1. i was sick. nothing serious. just not feeling well. from friday's lunch to sunday's lunch, i ate nothing but rice and oranges.

weekend adventure #2. i spent most of saturday up the mountain. i went to a village to meet a pregnant lady. my friends, charles and marie, are going to take the baby when it's born. it was conceived out of wedlock and it's just not a good situation, so the mother is giving it up. it's a little boy and his name is samuel. he will be here on or around december 4th. we drove up the mountain, parked, then walked further up to get to the house, which was very humble. there were 2 cows in the kitchen and the floor was dirt. they cooked over an open fire and there were holes in the roof and walls. because of the cows in the house, some of the family have ringworm. it was very humbling to sit there with them knowing that our visit meant a lot to them but at the same time, wondering what kinds of parasites i could potentially be picking up. also, it never ceases to amaze me how hospitable people who have nothing can be.

weekend adventure #3. after nothing but rice and oranges for 2 days, i got together with fellow teachers for thanksgiving lunch sunday afternoon. i ate kind of a lot, and then i did not feel good. but it was delicious. there was so much food that the tables were sagging.... i made the corn and deviled eggs. tell me you love me, mom.

weekend adventure #4. hannah and i invented a game. it is called "play badminton while holding an umbrella in a dog poop infested yard barefoot in the rain and try not to break anything". or just "mary poppins badminton". it is not easy, let me tell you.

weekend adventure #5. i went to an indonesian rock concert. (look up the bands - changcuter (pr. chang-chooter) and andra and the backbone. two excellent bands. see below.) it was outdoors. luckily, it wasn't raining by that point; however, it HAD been raining since about 11 o'clock that morning. the field was like a swamp by 7 pm. so we made the best of it, ditched our footwear, rolled our pants up to our knees, and flung mud on everyone. i love being in a crowd. i love being a part. it didn't matter that i only knew one song (one band did an avril lavigne cover). the sound of a thousand voices all singing together is so haunting. i love it. so i just danced along. in ankle deep mud.

weekend adventure #6. well, riding anywhere on a motorbike is always a grand adventure.

easily a top 3 best indonesian weekend. so far.

andra and the backbone














the changcuters

as we drive past a hotel beside the road....
me: *reading sign* front desk and reception.
*brief pause*
me: HEY! that was in english!!
marie: yeah, but you read it with an indonesian accent, so it doesn't count.
me: dang.

what would we do without moms?

i got one of my christmas boxes from mom yesterday.
when boxes arrive at the school, the jagas (guards) open and check them.
we are very secure.

so i guess the box arrived at about the end of lunch break time for the staff here.
everyone was coming through the front gates, back to work.
the jaga post is right there, and they were going through my box.

guess what mom sent?
underwear.
guess who saw them?
everyone.
guess what i have heard?
"nice underwear"
guess who thinks this is hilarious?
me.

thanks, mom.
i am famous.

there is a man
outside my door
right now
mowing the lawn
with a pair of pruning shears

There's a first time

Things I have done for the first time in the last week:

Ate from a roadside stand
Ate eel
Ate frog legs
Was in a minor car wreck
Went to Jogja
Went to Kopeng
Was taken to the police station
Road a motorbike outside Salatiga
Bartered in Indonesian
Bought Christmas gifts before Christmas Eve
Went dirtbiking. Sort of.
Went to an Indonesian orphanage
Ate at an Indonesian Wendy's
Drank at an Indonesian Starbucks
Ate martabak manis
Rode a becak (TWICE!)
Rode a dokar
Bought pants that actually fit me. In Asia.
Got a message from Zach
Was electrocuted by my computer so badly my heart stopped beating

I call that a successful week.

weekend adventures

so i spent saturday with some students in jogja (the city formerly known as yogyakarta) to do some christmas shopping. i had heard previously that this was the place to go for shopping. that is correct. the way there was adventure in itself. during the 2 hour drive, we got pulled over and taken to the police station where our driver was made to pay a fine. we later rear ended another vehicle, which is not good news. if white people are involved in - or anywhere around - an accident, they are expected to pay for it. there was no damage, but me and the other white girl in the car threw ourselves on the floor of the vehicle immediately, so as to not be seen by anyone. we heard lots of yelling happening outside the car, as our driver argued with the driver of the other vehicle. i peeked up once and saw that, in typical javanese fashion, they were smiling at each other as they yelled. once all the mishaps were out of the way, we spent the vast majority of our day walking down streets bartering with the proprietors of various tables piled high with merchandise. (note - i bartered. in indonesian. this is a milestone.) as of yesterday, i am *almost* done christmas shopping. now to get it all shipped. sigh.... after we tired of walking and arguing, we went to (drumroll please).... WENDY'S! that's right. wendy's. as in dave thomas. as in home of the frosty. i might have gotten a little carried away and ordered rp. 60,000 worth of food. which is a lot. all the things i missed: chicken sandwiches, french fries, frosties, cups of chili... mmmm..... and it only got better from there. next, we went to starbucks! i've never really been much of a starbucks fan, not being a coffee drinker myself. but still. finding little things from home is an emotional experience. so i had a hazelnut steamer. because you can't go to starbucks for the first time in months and not buy anything. duh....

in other news, this was our school's service weekend. all the students and faculty participated in some capacity or another. some did beautification projects around the campus, but most went out into the community. we had a team go do some landscaping work for a local church. one team organized and led a day of fun for a boatload of compassion kids (as in compassion international.... like those kids with huge brown eyes that look at you longingly from brochure covers). a team of about 40 students went to a nearby orphanage to paint (this was my team). some students set up a prayer vigil here at the school and served by praying for the teams all day. one team traveled 12 hours by bus to a place called madura, off the east coast of java. i don't know much about madura, but i know that it is 99% muslim. the girls who went had to wear pants, long sleeves, and head coverings the whole time they were there. they spent three days there, returning at 4 this morning. i heard reports that while they were there, they had so many opportunities to share Christ with students they encountered. their "reason" for being there was to teach english, but our kids came back with so many stories of muslim students hungry for the Truth and asking questions and many, many seeds planted there. now to pray for roots....

funny story from the orphanage. i took a picture of a little boy holding a baby girl, and the boy, having seen me take the picture, came over to have a look at it. he motioned with his hand that he wanted to see the rest of the pictures in my camera. so keeping the strap securely around my neck, i sat down beside him and began to flip through other pictures i had taken throughout the day. we eventually reached the end of those, and by that time, there were about 4 other little kids crowded on my lap, on my shoulders, and on the little boy next to me. i had many other pictures on my camera, besides the ones from that day. the little boy had figured out (by watching me) how to operate the slide show function, so he deftly slid his hand under mine, and began to look through other pictures. all 700 of them. he would often stop and point to a picture and look at me with a questioning expression. and every time, i was able to explain to him in indonesian what the picture was of (a fish, my brother, my house, food, etc....). This went on for quite some time. By this point, there were maybe 8 kids crowded around us now. The camera strap was still around my neck, but the camera was in the hands of the little boy, and there were about 2 kids crammed in between us. I was getting a crick. I made a bold move and removed the strap from my neck and put it around the neck of the little boy. He looked like I'd just crowned him king of the world. We kept looking at pictures, and I kept explaining them to him. Eventually all the other kids wandered away until it was just he and I again; him pointing and me explaining. I was feeling pretty good about my Indonesian skills by this point. I mean, we just looked through 800 or so pictures, and this little boy knew what every single one was. And then a student walked up to me and said, "Miss, you know he's deaf, right?" Danget.

I wonder why I started capitalizing halfway through that last paragraph....?

public transportation

So last night was a bit of an adventure. Starting today, our school is sending out service teams to various places. Some are traveling east to Madura to work with students in a strictly Muslim part of Indonesia. Most are working locally. I will be going with a group tomorrow to an orphanage in Bawen to paint and love on some kids. (But not to paint on some kids.) The other math teacher, Amanda, is heading up the trip, but there are a ton of kids signed up to go, so I volunteered to serve as another chaperone. Amanda heard of some needs the orphanage has, so we decided to go into town after school yesterday to choose paint colors and to pick up some things we thought they could use. For example, there are 120 children and a handful of widows who live there, and they don't have enough spoons at meal time. The kids share their spoons. So we bought them spoons.
Something you have to understand about shopping in Indonesia is that there is no Wal-Mart. Shopping here is like the opposite of Wal-Mart. It is the anti-Wal-Mart. If you need 6 things, you cannot go to one place. However, if you need 1 thing, you will likely go to 6 places. On occasion you will find exactly what you need on the first try. But those are the times when you get what you want off the shelf, and you take it to the cashier, feeling pretty good about your lucky find. But the cashier rattles off something in Indonesian and points you back to the area of the store where you grabbed the item. So you shuffle back there, wondering what on earth she just said to you. A salesperson indicates that you should approach them, so you do, and they take your item and try to find where it came from. Just as you begin to think that they are putting your merchandise back on the shelf, thereby indirectly forbidding you to buy it from them, they will locate the item and its price and then go and write you a sales slip, which they will then hand to you and point back to the cashier. So then you take the piece of paper back to the cashier and pay her. Then you go back to the other salesperson who by now has bagged your item for you and is waiting with a smile on their face for you to come get your crap. Then, and only then, you may finally leave the store.
So anyways, back to last night. Amanda and I bought some things, traipsing all over downtown to find what we needed. I even found a pair of pants! And they fit! Hooray for my first new clothes in months. That's beside the point. Something else you need to know about Salatiga is that all public transportation leads to Ramayana - the biggest store in the shopping district of town. It is the closest thing we have to a department store. And pretty much all of the other tokos (shops) extend down the street from Ramayana for as far as the eye can see. So Amanda and I started at the big R and worked our way down the street getting what we needed as we went into various little tokos. As dusk approached, we realized that we needed to get back to Ramayana in order to catch an angkota home. An angkota is my preferred mode of public transportation, and up until last night, it was my ONLY mode of public transportation. An angkota is a robin's egg blue mini-van type thing. On the inside, it has a low padded bench along the walls and a metal floor. It comfortably seats about 10, if you're OK with cozying up to your neighbor. We fit 21 once. So every angkota has a number painted on the front and back of it, and each number runs a different route (like buses in the states). And no matter where they are coming from, their routes all end at Ramayana.
Angkotas stop running at 5:30, and as darkness approached, we finally realized that it was about 5:23 and we were close to a kilometer down the street from Ramayana. So we start hurrying back up the street. About halfway there, all hell broke loose. And by that, I mean it started pouring down rain. So there we were, 2 white girls, heavy laden with shopping bags full of spoons and things for orphans, trying to run on wet tile sidewalks (which is comparable to trying to run on ice), through the pouring rain, past the beggars beside the road, through some family's dinner on the sidewalk, until we finally made it to Ramayana. We began running frantically around the few angkotas that were left there, looking for the number 9. No such luck. They had all left already. Amanda and I just stood there looking at each other hopelessly, and behind her, through the pouring rain, I saw our salvation, meager as it was.... A becak!
Welcome to Indonesian mode of transportation number 2. The becak (bay-chak). It is essentially a bicycle rickshaw made to seat one (or 2 children) and powered by unfortunate middle aged men smaller than me. We jumped in. It was dry. We did not fit. Half my butt was in Amanda's lap, and both our laps were filled with spoons. I have always been mildly terrified of becaks in general, mostly because they drive right down the street going about 2 km per hour while buses and lorries fly right by them. Having my first becak experience downtown in the dark in the rain did not inspire confidence. Before our driver even had a chance to don his rain gear and begin pedaling, I was begging Jesus to spare our lives. Amanda had a good laugh. As we began moving down the street, it quickly became evident that it was going to take us about 2 hours to get home at this rate. So we decided to look for a dokar.
Mode of transportation number 3. A dokar is a horse drawn covered carriage. And by "horse", I actually mean "unhealthy looking pony that will probably drop dead from hunger and exhaustion at any moment". Looking for a dokar was a trick in itself. Our becak driver had been gracious enough to seal us into our seats. They usually just have a small awning over the rider to keep the sun off. Our guy had huge plastic sheets that he had thrown over the awning and tied underneath the seat after we got in. Amanda was finally able to shove her head out into the rain and did eventually spot a dokar sitting down a sidestreet. So we quicly paid our becak driver, and ran through even more pouring rain down a dark street where we found not one but TWO idle dokars. We quickly assessed which pony was the least worm-ridden, and we jumped in. From there, it took only about 10 minutes and 75 cents each to get home. 10 minutes well spent on discussing politics. 75 cents well spent on not walking through the pouring rain. The end.

what have i done?

did some research this morning.

indonesia is home to.....
220 species of bats
166 species of rats

and 460 species of snakes
only a handful of which are NOT venomous
in fact, if you look at a list of the world's deadliest snakes....
most of them live in australia/southeast asia
oh, indonesia....

oh, and sri lanka has the most deaths by snakebite per year.
just for the record.

you and i

we were created to be curious.
to wonder.

if we weren't,
would we ever really find God?

i wish
that i could
just
fix.

i miss maudie

So there were a few things that happened yesterday that turned a pretty rough day into a pretty amazing day. They were nicely spaced throughout the day too. God knows that if I have too much happiness at once, I might actually explode.

1. Glory (a student) totally made my morning by frustrating me to my wit's end. I don't know how he does it, but I love it. He asked me to sit down and practice his Spanish conversation with him for an upcoming test. However, the script was already written out and memorized (on his part), but his partner was home sick (and had the only script). So I had to go through the whole conversation - with him only giving me minor hints (in Spanish, of course) as to what my next line might be. It was hysterical. The 3 minute conversation took us closer to 30 minutes.

2. During third period, I just up and left Algebra II class to stand for about 5 minutes watching Peco try to open his bag of mango juice. But I was rewarded for my (lack of) effort when he let me have the first drink. What a great way to start the day.

3. After school, I got TWO packages! One from the little girls I babysit, and one from my college room-mate and her momma! And I got to share the things they sent with other people who needed cool stuff!

4. I got an excellent thank you message from the student I talked to about love on Sunday. My favorite part was where he thanked me for having such a heart-to-heart conversation and not even minding that he's 4 years younger than me.

5. Glory stayed after school and we did maths together. Trying to prove things that are impossible to prove. That is always a highlight of my day.

6. Mrs. Patterson baked me a crapload of peanut butter cookies.

7. When I got home from school, my house had no power. So I got to eat nasi goreng ayam (chicken fried rice) for dinner by ginger-scented-candlelight. It was very pioneer and romantic even by myself. Then, when I realized that my external lights were still on, I called Sid and Mary to come over and fix my house for me. So they did. And they are always a good time. I discovered 3 breaker boxes I never knew I had. And my giant porch toad came over.

8. I rode a vespa in the rain through the dark.

9. I got together with friends to pray, sing, and practice guitar.

10. While we were practicing guitar, who should walk in but - A PUPPY! A little, fuzzy ball of happiness who wagged his tail so hard his whole butt shook! He ran right through the front door and over to me and tried to jump into my chair with me, but he was too little and fat. So I quick passed my guitar to Yohanes and picked the little guy up. And he spent the next 5 or so minutes jumping up and licking me all over my face and gnawing on the buttons on my shirt. His little body was just shaking with sheer ecstacy, and I was afraid he was gonna pee on me. But he didn't.

11. Awhile later, after practice was over, puppy found me outside again and loved on me just the same.

10. I went to an Indonesian family's house and understood a little bit of what was going on and mostly just got to make their baby girl laugh by making ridiculous faces at her. I shook hands with her when I was leaving, and she took my hand and pressed it to her cheek. It was just about the cutest thing ever. Maybe second only to puppy.

it's [not] a small world, after all...

Mountainview hosted the annual international school soccer tournament this weekend.
Seven schools from all over Java (and Bali) came to our school to compete for the trophy.
Given how much I love watching soccer games, it was a great weekend.
Especially after being sent home early from school due to being sick on Friday.
My friend, Marie, owns/runs a coffeeshop down the street from the school, and she was anticipating being quite busy all weekend. So I spent Saturday bouncing back and forth between photographing and cheering on teams and working down at the coffee shop.

Sunday, I plopped down with my camera beside the soccer field, ready for the games to begin. An older British lady who I recognized as having been at the coffee shop the previous day sat down beside me. She remembered me as well, and we struck up a lovely conversation. Shortly thereafter, her husband joined us. It was he who first saw my Africa necklace, which never leaves my neck. He made the comment that his daughters all have the same necklace. I immediately knew they had lived in Nairobi (it's the only place you can get this necklace.) True enough. They lived there for 6 years in the 90s, and their youngest daughter was adopted from an orphanage there (amazingly enough... the Kenyan government makes adoption VERY difficult). We began asking each other about our experiences there, and we came to find that they know many of the people I know, and 2 years ago, they had been to visit Rosslyn Academy, the school I was at in Kenya. They sought employment there, but there were no openings. The husband is a math teacher. So they came to Indonesia instead. Kind of sounds like my life.... They tried to talk me into moving to Malang (sp?), because they are losing their math teacher next year. Some of my students were sitting nearby during this conversation and they immediately protested..... I can't leave. : )

After the games ended, I came to check my email and found that a former student (one from Rosslyn) was online. He's British, but is going to school in the States now. We struck up a rather fascinating conversation. Trying to define love. We talked through a lot of things together. I think the most important conclusion we came to is this: There is never a reason not to love.

Today, I am left amazed by these two things:
The way a boy loves a girl
How God makes me laugh

funny how.....

it's about 82 degrees here today.
and i'm wearing long sleeves.
i don't think i'll ever survive another winter.

last night it was chilly too.
like maybe 70 degrees.
and it was raining.
so i went to a coffee shop with some friends.
wore jeans and a sweatshirt.
drank some hot chocolate.
listened to a good band.
it felt like fall.
the room was smoke filled.
usually i can't handle that.
i cough and i gag.
but last night.... i loved it.
i inhaled it the way little kids inhale gas fumes before they realize it's killing their brain cells.
i got home and realized i smelled like i spent the night in a bar.
my hoodie especially.
so i laid it out over my pillow and slept on it.
i can't even begin to describe the way it made me feel.
smell is a powerful sense.
possibly the most powerful one for me.

for some reason, i kept waking up in the night and thinking i was at home.
i could hear kyley breathing in her bed across the room from me.
i could hear dad moving around downstairs before the sun even came up.
i could hear the roosters crowing from the barn.

somehow, my cigarette smoke saturated shirt took me home.

when i woke up this morning, my shirt smelled like me again.
my eyes teared up.
i wanted to hold onto that feeling of home. safe. content.

satu lagi

This is the week of near death experiences.
But this time it was my fault, more or less.
I like to blame it on Yohanes though.
He had the brilliant idea that I should take pictures of the rain.
Because here, quite literally, when it rains, it pours.
And pours and pours and pours.
Then suddenly stops.
It is a sight to behold.

It rained yesterday.
To say it stormed violently would be more accurate.
The wind blew the candles off my kitchen table.
It threw my laundry off the line and into rivers of water flowing behind my house.
The rain came down so heavily I could hardly see across my front yard.
The palm trees behind my house looked like video footage of a hurricane in Florida.
The lightning flashed brilliantly and the thunder absolutely roared.
Had this storm occured in the States, it likely would have been accompanied by a tornado.
So I went outside to take pictures.
Now, I know better than to stand in the middle of the yard during a storm.
I mean, my camera would get wet!
So I stood on the sidewalk in front of my house, under the eaves.
At one point, I squatted down to take a picture of water drops in a puddle.
I was looking through the viewfinder, trying to focus the picture just so....
All of a sudden, there was a flash of light so bright it hurt my eyes - like looking into the sun.
Before I had time to even wonder why my camera had flashed without me pushing the button, there came an instantaneous clap of thunder, so close and so loud that it knocked me backwards and made my ears ring.
Lightning had struck the ground.
About 5 meters to my right.

I really wish I had a picture of it.

near death experiences

Last night, I was dormsitting in the girls dorm until 9 o'clock.
Then I had to walk home in the dark.
To the back of campus. In the rain. Barefoot.
As I was walking across the soccer field, I was struck with a deep need to be careful.
It was like someone was saying to me "Heads up! Watch out!"
So I walked very slowly, straining through the pitch black and the rain to see what was around me. I prayed (as I often do when I walk in the dark) that God would protect my feet.
I made it home safely.

This morning, I came to school and found out that a student was bit by a snake last night.
On the soccer field. In the dark. In the rain.
At 9 o'clock.

I'm thankful my green boots made it to me in the mail this week.
At long last.
My feet will be safe.
Even in the dark.

BTW, Hannah (the girl who was bit) was rushed to a hospital in Semarang. From what I've heard so far, by the time they got there, the swelling and pain in her foot/leg had gone down. They thought it might have been a minimally venomous snake that bit her. However, an expert was called, and he said that the main snake around these parts that is NOT deadly hangs on to you when it bites. Given that Hannah didn't even realize she had been bitten (she thought she stepped on a thorn), that is clearly not the snake that bit her. But she didn't die. In fact, she's at school today. I, for one, don't mind chalking this one up as a miracle.

why i love children

So I have these married friends named Charles and Marie. They have two kids - Joshua (7) and Bethanie (4). I also have a friend/fellow teacher, Ashley. Last night, the 6 of us piled in Charles and Marie's vehicle and went to dinner. After that, we stopped at a store so Marie and Josh could go in to pick out a birthday gift for Josh's friend, Ryan. Charles, Ashley, Bethanie, and I remained in the car. The following conversation ensued.



Ashley: Hey, Bethanie, did you know that she has a baby?!

Bethanie: Nuh-uh! A baby?!

Ashley: Yup, a REAL baby!

Bethanie: Well, where is it at??

Ashley: She has to keep it in her bag.

Bethanie: Can I see it??

Ashley: No. It was premature, so it can't be around people. It has to stay in the bag.

Bethanie: Oh. Well, what's it's name?

Ashley: Yeah, what's your baby's name?

Me: Uhmmm.....

Ashley: Junior!

Me: I call it J.R. for short.

Bethanie: Well, I think its name should be...... ummmm...... collar!

Me: Oh, that's a GREAT name, Bethanie! Thanks!

Bethanie: Can I see it now?

Ashley: No. It has to stay in the bag. The light hurts its eyes.

Bethanie: Oh. Is it a boy or a gill?

Ashley: A girl. What color do you think she is?

Bethanie: Pink.

Me: Of course. Babies tend to be.

Ashley: What color do you think her hair is?

Bethanie: Green.

Me: I gave birth to a troll!

Ashley: Bethanie, what color are her eyes?

Bethanie: Green.

Me: To match the hair, naturally.

Ashley: How many fingers does little collar have?

Bethanie: Ummm....... (counts fingers on one hand)....... FIVE!

Ashley: And how many toes?

Bethanie: (Takes off one shoe and counts) FIVE!

Me: Oh, dear.....

Ashley: And Bethanie, what color do you think the baby's tongue is?

Bethanie: Green.

Ashley: What do you feed your baby??

Me: (Shrugs) Bethanie, how many noses does my baby have?

Bethanie: Two.

Me: And how many hairs?

Bethanie: Five.

Charles: (Rolls down the window. The car was getting stuffy.)

Bethanie: NO, POPPY, NO! YOU'LL BURN THE BABY'S EYES!!!!

Charles: Oh.... sorry..... I forget. (Rolls window back up)

Me: (Wincing from the screaming) We should whisper so we don't burn her ears too.

Bethanie: (whispers) OK. I have to pee.

Charles: (whispers) Let's go......

(They go into the store. Soon, all 4 of them come out together)

Bethanie: Where's the baby?! Show mommy!

Marie: Ummm.... yeah.... Bethanie came running in the store yelling that 'We had a baby in the car!'"

Me: Oh. Well, I'm sorry Bethanie, but I had to give her away.

Bethanie: Why?

Me: Well, a lady came by who didn't have any babies, and I felt sorry for her, so I gave her collar.

Bethanie: Oh.

(10 minutes elapses with us discussing various other things)

Bethanie: What was the lady's name?

Me: Huh?

Bethanie: The lady who has collar.

Ashley: Britney Spears.

Bethanie: Oh. Ok.

(A few more minutes passes)

Bethanie: Is she nice?

Me: Yes.

Ashley: She even has overnight privileges with her own kids now!

Bethanie: Good. Ok.

Marie: You know she's going to talk about this all night now, right?

Me: You're welcome.

cost of living

yesterday after church, i went to kfc for lunch.
i had a chicken wrap, fries, and a bottle of water.
then i went to the grocery.
i bought half a kilo of grapes, a rare red bell pepper, and toothpaste.
after that, i caught the angkota home.
everything costs more for now on account of idul fitri.

the day's grand total?
$5

"but you're in indonesia now"

"i'm sorry. i'm american. i think like an american. i can't help it."
"but you're in indonesia now."

i wish
that 22 years
of thinking
a certain way
of acting
a certain way
of doing
a certain way
could be
so easily
erased
and replaced
in just
2 months

reasons why i should think less in the morning

when i woke up this morning, i was thinking.
Jesus sure is a lot like mosquito repellent.

so get this.
i've been thinking a lot about satan the past few days.
i've seen things. i've heard things.
he has this country in the palm of his hand.
things happen here.
people turn into dogs in the grocery store in broad daylight.
cats that speak english visit people's houses in the night.
it's real. it's scary. it happens.

back to this morning.
i was in the bathroom, busy doing whatever it is i do in the morning.
i saw 2 mosquitoes sitting on my shower curtain.
i often contemplate the evilness of mosquitoes. we are not on good terms.
but today was different.
i realized that i now have power over them.
my pembantu bought me this most amazing repellent thing last week.
i just plug it in, and it keeps mosquitoes out of my bedroom.
and my living room.
they are perpetually trapped in my bathroom (the only other room in my house).
i don't have to fear them biting me when my guard is down (when i'm sleeping).
and when i go in the bathroom, i already know they're in there.
i'm ready for them. and the entire room is white.
so no matter where they go, i can see them.
and i am bigger than them.

Jesus is like that.
when i'm with Him, i don't have anything to be afraid of.
He watches over me even when i'm sleeping.
satan has no power over me.
and when i leave my house, when i go into this country so controlled by demonic forces...
i see satan. he is visible. no matter where he goes, he cannot hide.
and the *I AM* is bigger than him.

jepara

i went to the beach for vacation.
it was glorious.

i went to indonesian church for the first time.
i sang every song.
in indonesian and javanese.
i forgot that hati also means heart.
i wondered why we kept singing about our livers.
i seem to have a habit of becoming a part of the post-church receiving line.
i shook 200 hands.

i ate lunch with an indonesian family.
there were a lot of them.
and only a little food.
but they kept giving me more.

by 9 o'clock on sunday morning, i had already....
driven 2.5 hours
seen the sun rise
been to church
gone grocery shopping (3 times)
eaten lunch
gone silver shopping
seen a giant turtle at the coast
visited a sick man

conversation between me and a 4 year old in the pool:
bethanie: you're on my team!
me: what kind of a team? because if we're drug smuggling, i don't think i want to be involved in that.
bethanie: *stares at me blankly with her mouth drooping open*
me: *chuckles to self*
bethanie: oh! well. my drum doesn't muggle, so it's ok. you're on my team.

i played pool twice this weekend.
my game has not improved.
balls hit the floor.

i went for a long walk down the beach by myself yesterday morning.
i found a little sandal washed up on shore.
i started having so many thailand flashbacks.
i realized that i still haven't processed everything.
i never told anyone all that happened.
i still haven't cried for the things i saw there.

idul fitri started yesterday evening.
fireworks, rockets, and bombs were going off all night long.
as i fell asleep, i imagined that i was in London, circa 1943.
the walls of my house were shaking.
and i was heartsick for my lost neighbors.

charles and marie predicted that i will get married here.
they predicted the same thing about rio when she moved here.
her wedding is next week.

i can't figure out if today is tuesday or wednesday.
vacations have a way of doing that to you.

what about the golden years?

i realized something about myself last night, lying in bed, feeling exhausted beyond measure.
i love to be needed.
i need to be useful.
this revalation accompanied another.
i have not eaten dinner yet this week.

and these two revelations are inextricably intertwined.
i have been needed this week.
i have been stretched thin this week.
i have fallen asleep while walking home at night this week.
and i would not have it any other way.

but then i had to stop and think...
what about when i'm old?
what happens when i'm unable to be quite so useful?
when my eyes don't see the same?
when my ears don't hear the same?
when my mind doesn't think the same?
what then?

these are a few of my favorite things

riding a motorbike through the city at night is the most exhilarating thing...

next comes being aboard a fishing boat in the ocean with a bunch of leathery old fishermen and being the first one to spot those dolphins off the starboard side... and then keeping them my secret.

and then walking along all the narrow back roads, alleys, and paths through town...

being able to answer the questions that the indonesian people ask me as i walk along the road carries a sense of achievement all its own...

not getting any work done over the weekend because students keep coming to my room to hang out gives me a feeling of purpose which overshadows a lack of accomplishment...

and finally, sitting alone in my classroom, listening to bob dylan at the end of the day... that is positively euphoric.

i am NOT an extreme baller

3-on-3 basketball tournament this weekend.

game 1: 12 - 7 loss
game 2: 11 - 6 loss
game 3: a lot loss
game 4: 21 - 12 loss

i wish we had gotten to play the team of 7th graders.
i think we could have taken them down.
maybe.

this is us.
looking our best.
wet with sweat.
sun joon, me, won, joseph, joshua, yoojin, and glory.
me and the koreans.

excuse me?

indonesian friend: is it true that president bush dyes his hair based on who he is with?
me: what??
indonesian friend: my english professor told me that.
me: dyes his hair??
indonesian friend: yes. he might dye it gray if he is with old people and brown if he is with young people.
me: bush would look funny with brown hair.

this is why i'm..... cranky

so i just graduated from college, right?

in typical college student fashion, i'm pretty amazing at sleeping whenever and wherever and through anything.

even here. in the land of constant noise. i sleep through blaring karaoke. i sleep through the southern baptist dorm's dance parties. i sleep through the guards talking on their two ways. i sleep through the 4.30 am call to prayer. i'm just awesome at sleeping.

until this week.


i found my sleeping weakness. a creature so small, so weak, so unassuming....


not once, but TWICE this week, a mosquito has made its way into my bedroom.
the first time it happened at midnight.
that nearly imperceptible buzzing roused me from my slumber....i could hear it faintly, but i couldn't see it anywhere.
due to my rational fear of getting bit in my sleep, i nearly succeeded in suffocating myself under my blankets.
as i neared the point of asphyxiation, i decided that breathing sounded good, so i stuck my head out. just my head. and then i realized that the mosquito was sure to attack at any moment, most likely causing permanent disfiguration to my facial features. i quickly decided i would rather him eat my arms. so those came out too.
i fell asleep.
he bit.
i swung.
he laughed.
i fell asleep.
he bit.
i slapped.
he laughed.
i decided more decisive action was necessary.
i grabbed my pillow, one blanket, locked the mosquito in my bedroom, and slept on the couch.
which is a foot too short.


last night, there was a similar occurance. this time at 3 am. a diminuitive sound.... a buzzing... lurking danger.... i was wide awake instantly.
i decided i wasn't even about to mess around with sacrificing body parts in order to save others.
i just took off for the couch, shutting the door tightly behind me.
once there, however, i found that all of salatiga had met earlier that day and decided unanimously to do everything in their power to prevent me from sleeping.
first, the geckos started talking outside my window. they are always quiet at night.
then... AT TWO FORTY-FIVE IN THE MORNING someone had the audacity to practice drums. for AN HOUR. then a man in the street started yelling. a mournful, wailing sort of yell. this made the dogs all howl. and to make matters worse, two imams at two different mosques decided to have a screaming match over the pa systems that are typically reserved for call to prayer. it sounded a little something like this:
mosque 1: hello? hellohello..... hellohellohellohello!
mosque 2: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NO!
mosque 1: YA YA YA YA YA YA YA YA!
mosque 2: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
mosque 1: HELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLOHELLO!
mosque 2: nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
this went on for quite awhile. at least until i fell asleep. at about 3:45. finally.


i'm going to go eat some chocolate ice cream now.

huh?

"Warning: Ike may bring 'certain death'."
May? Certain?
Wait. I'm confused....
Some people are too stubborn.

After students predicted otherwise, we won the season opener varsity soccer game!
6 - 1
That is outstanding....

Then I stepped on Ji Hyun's heels all the way to the showers.

Then I ran from one end of campus to the other, looking for my neighbor who doesn't have a phone, so people were calling me with important messages for her. She was nowhere to be found.

Then I was sweating a lot.

So I cleaned out my desk drawers. It's about time....

In other news...
Last night I ran a mile and walked another.
Did 75 situps and 4.5 pushups.
Then promptly went to bed.
It's good to remind myself from time to time why I hate exercising.

Oh, and "hot guard" AND his wife now know that I refer to him as such. Thank you, Yohanes.

oh, my

we just killed a snake.
a very poisonous snake.
at the coffeeshop.
the kids found it.
i can't wait for my green boots to come.
why does mail have to take so long?
it's only the other side of the world...

*edit*
marie (the owner of the coffeeshop) did her research.
it was a blue temple viper.
if it bites, you die within minutes.
there is no known antidote.
her three year old daughter found it.
in the courtyard. in their home.
i've never been too wary of snakes.
all that is about to change.

20/20

I was going through pictures on my computer last night.
Deleting some old ones.
Trying to free up some memory.
It made me think about my college days.
Especially this past semester.
And the things I miss.
Most notably:
I miss insane AIM chats with Floyd from the very next room.
I miss Kate's poached pears and shaved ice.
I miss math parties with Dr. Lesko's family.
I miss talking endlessly with Colleen about farms and homeschools.
I miss being able to go to WHS anytime I want to visit Mr. E and my kids.
I miss the giggles of the girls I babysat.
I miss walking to the lake by myself in the middle of the night.
I miss spending the night on Josh's futon.
I miss Ruthie dropping by my room at random times and us inevitably ending up laying on the floor, eating junk food, and talking about ridiculous things for a long, long time.
I miss planning wedding things with Em.
I miss Lars, Joel, Ruthie, and whoever else we picked up along the way having dinner at Steak 'n' Shake on Tuesday nights.
I miss Settlers of Catan and Rook.
I miss Alpha dining salads and chicken patty sandwiches.
I miss late night talks with Kate as we laid in our bunks.
I miss waking up in the morning and finding Kristian in my room.
I miss replacing a meal with a bag of doritos.
I miss looking out my window and seeing the guys playing ultimate or football.
I miss hanging out at the Mad's bar talking to Andy.
I miss spying on people in the dark in Meg's car.
I miss doing photo shoots with Kristian for chapel.
I miss Bellwether and Darkroom shows.
I miss Kondo and church at CCC.
I miss being able to go home whenever I want.
I miss late night drives that always resulted in near death with Meg.
I miss front porch parties at Josh's house.
I miss bad horror movie night with Lars.
I miss Peking on Sundays after church.
I miss all day Tuesday and Thursday with Humberd.
I miss hearing David sing to me in philosophy.
I miss Dr. Lesko standing on his desk to emphasize a point.
I miss hearing Luke scream my last name.
I miss times in the Tree with Hyde.
I miss being one of the few people brave enough to skip day of (forced) worship in chapel and spend the morning at Steak 'n' Shake instead.
I miss going to Wal-Mart for absolutely no reason.

And in other news...

Dear Floyd,

As requested....

Sincerely,
A

My schedule, with additional commentary included.

Period 1: Spanish
I am not a Spanish teacher. I have never been to Spain. I do not speak Spanish. I do not enjoy teaching Spanish. But I do it anyways. In my Spanish class, there are 2 Confederate boys, 2 Koreans, 1 Indian, 1 Russian/Afghani/Chinese/Filipino, and 3 Americans. (The 2 Confederates are American too. So technically, there's 5 Americans, though most have spent most of their lives outside of America and would not claim to be American). We speak a mixture of several different languages more than we speak true Spanish. And the Spanish always has a..... unique.... accent. Surprisingly, one of the Koreans has the best Spanish pronunciation. I've heard rumor that he started the class last year, then dropped it.

Period 2: Math 7
These kids eat straight bowls of sugar for breakfast, I'm convinced. All of them are pleasers, so it's not too hard to keep class under control. But they would clearly rather be pretending to be inchworms on the floor or attempting to juggle three fuzzy dice in one hand or using farting noises as a form of communication. After period 2, I am ready for a nap.

Period 3: Algebra II (11th grade)
There are 7 of them, and our whole class has only ever met together 3 times. Someone is always sick, on any given day. This is easily my most chill class. Being upperclassmen, they're just more mature than my other kids, and so I can be really lax with them. Since they're in 11th grade and are just now taking Algebra II, they have labeled themselves as "bad" at math, so that's tricky to work around, but they know how to work hard and play hard, and I love them. Third period is always a good time.

Period 4: Prep
This is a block period. On Tuesdays, I teach Spanish during this period, which is like torture. You can't learn a language for 90 minutes. There's a point at which you just stop absorbing. And it's right before lunch, which makes it seem about 248 times as long.

Lunch
I jaga (guard) the girls dorm food every day at lunch. The dorm pembantus set it out, buffet style, in the lunch pavilion, and I just have to make sure that the 7 dorm girls are the ONLY people taking the food. The plus side is that I get a free hot lunch every single day. The down side is.... umm... I don't think there is one. Maybe the fact that we have chicken legs at least 2 times a week. I don't like dark meat.

Period 5: Algebra II (9th grade. And one 8th grader)
This is the class of brilliant kids. The kids who will take geometry next year, Pre-Calc after that, and AP Calculus their senior year. There is one American in the class. There is one Dutch girl in the class. The rest are Asian. Because Asians are good at everything. Asians always get a 4.0. When I grade the Asian kids' papers, I just put 100% on the top. I don't even have to check it. OK. That's a lie. I check it. But the 100% part is true. (BTW, there are NO Asian kids in the 11th grade Algebra II class. Because they are all brilliant enough to take it in 9th grade.) This is also the quietest class I have. Like, they never talk. I ask, "What is 1 + 1?" And they all get REAL interested in whatever is happening on the floor all of a sudden. They are excellent note takers, and if I am working an example problem on the board, most of them have already solved the problem before I am done writing it down. Of course, no-one will volunteer an answer, except for the rare occasion in which someone chooses to whisper it at a decibal that not even God Himself can hear.

Period 6: Prep
This is the second block period of the day. This is the period in which I actually do work because by this point, I realize that if I don't do it now, I will have to stay after school.

Overall... Teaching is good here. I can't imagine ever truly enjoying teaching in the States after being in a place like this, where discipline is never an issue, where I am always shown respect, where I can be friends with my students, where I can hang out with them outside of school and a lawsuit is not involved, where I have a support system of Godly teachers who would do anything for me, and where summer never ends.

Tujuh belas

Yesterday was a celebration for 2 reasons.
1. Indonesian Independence Day is soon. (Tujuh belas)
2. Teacher meetings are OVER!

In honor of these two events, the school’s Indonesian staff (kitchen ladies, guards, groundskeepers, office workers, IT guys, etc...) decided to plan a special day for us westerners. And by “plan a special day for us” what I actually mean is “play ridiculous games to make everyone look silly so that we can laugh at them.” It was great! We split into ten mixed (native/foreign) teams and had lunch at our respective team tables. At first, I was the only westerner on my team and the only one currently at the table fluent in English (my teammate Yohanes is quite fluent, but he was a coordinator and was therefore busy giving people instructions). This was not conducive to team bonding. Eventually, Ashley (a fellow teacher), who was on a team with about 4 white people, saw my plight and joined my team.
Over lunch (which was sticky rice, spices, an egg, and vegetables to be eaten with the hands), we divided up the tasks – who would play which games. As soon as we finished eating, the fun began! We started with Makan Kerupuk. This game involved tying a kerupuk (a rice cake of sorts) from a long string, hanging it from a clothesline, then making people eat it without the use of their hands. For those of you who are familiar with rice cakes, you know that they are light and catch wind easily. This was a game that I had volunteered for..... It also did not help that Indonesians are really short and so my kerupuk was hung at about neck level. I got second place in my round (of five competitors). My Indonesian teammates cheered for me relentlessly. They also laughed a lot as I chased my kerupuk around through the air with my tongue out trying desperately to even get a lick. I’m just thankful that they used plain kerupuks (rather than shrimp flavored ones. I had already found a fish head in my lunch, and that was trauma enough for the day).
The second game was whole team tug-of-war. My team definitely lost in the first round. Interestingly enough, a team with mostly women and children can beat a team of mostly Indonesian men. This occured several times throughout the tournament. This was undoubtedly the most “normal” game of the day. The last round was incredibly intense and long with much bursting of blood vessels and screaming and cheering on the part of all involved.
Third, we played Mengambil Koin dalam Semangka. For this event, five watermelons had been slit all over their rinds and 100 rupiah coins had been shoved into each slit so about 1/3 – ½ of the coin was left sticking out. The watermelons were hanging on ropes from the kerupuk clothesline. Contestants had to use only their mouths to remove the coins from the watermelons and spit them into bags held by other team members. To make things especially difficult, 2 people from different teams were using the same watermelon, meaning that you had to fight with someone else pushing your watermelon around, and you also had to make sure that you spit your coins into the correct bag. And oh yeah, the watermelons were freshly painted with powdered charcoal mixed in cooking oil, which gave the watermelons a nice black fingerpaint-like surface. This was a particularly amusing game as contestants pushed and shoved each other around while trying desperately to chase a watermelon around with their mouths and getting their faces, necks, hair, shirts, backs, etc. coated in a nice layer of black oil.
The fourth event was also a fairly “normal” game. Each team designated 2 persons who stood on opposite ends of a roped off grassy area. Each contestant had a spoon in their mouth. One person from each team had a marble on their spoon. They had to carry the marble on the spoon in their mouths to the other end and transfer it to the spoon of their teammate who then had to walk back to the other end. If you dropped your marble at any time, your team was disqualified.
The last game seemed pretty easy..... It was soccer! However, in typical Indonesian fashion, there were a few twists. First, every player had to wear a sarong (an Asian wrap-around skirt type thing that is fairly restrictive and reaches to the floor). Also, any time hot guard (I don’t know this guy’s name, but he is easily the best looking guard we have here) decided to blast music through the sound system, everyone playing had to stop everything and dance. (Please see picture below) It was akin to musical soccer (if there is such a thing). This was my third event (after the kerupuk chase and tug-of-war), and it was wonderful. The greatest moment was when someone (not while I was playing) kicked toward the net and the ball went under the goalie’s sarong and got stuck. As the goalie stepped backwards to try and get the ball out from under their sarong, the ball popped out the back and right into the net. Also, I think I might have injured an Indonesian man. We tangled in a rush for the ball and he went down hard. I got the ball. Furthermore, I was complimented on my great dancing, thank you very much.
Overall, my team got second place. We were called to the lunch pavilion to receive our prize, which was a big box wrapped in brown paper. When we opened it up, we discovered more boxes filled with three packs of Oreos! We all walked away with our pockets shoved full of chocolatey/creamy goodness.

In other news, I think my lack of Indonesian language skills has proven troublesome with my pembantu (house helper). Tuesday, I left a note asking her to cook something for dinner with the chicken that I had left thawing in the fridge. When I got home that night, the chicken was back in the freezer and I had no dinner. Today, I again left a note, this time with the chicken thawing in the sink. When I got home, I again had no dinner, but (much to my consternation) this time, I also had no chicken either! I found a note on the table that read as follows:

Buat Nona:
Ibu minta maaf itu tulang ayam.
Saya bawa puling.
Terima kasih,
Ibu Santi.

(For Miss:
I’m sorry that there are bones in the chicken.
I will return it.
Thank you,
Ibu Santi)

That is called “motivation to learn the language”.