Did I ever tell you about the time a bird pooped directly in my eye? While I was driving? No? Well, let me tell you. It's a good story.
It happened about a month ago. A friend of mine had just moved into a new house, and some friends and I were going over to have a housewarming party of sorts. In Indonesia, though, when you're the one being honored, you treat your friends. So my friend with the new house invited us all over for a huge dinner.
(Fun fact - a housewarming party on Java is called slup-slupan. I just like to say that word. Slup-slupan. Slup-slupan. Try it.)
I didn't know yet where my friend's new house was, so several of us met up at a landmark in town, then drove over together. One friend had already been to the new house, so he led the way. For a large part of our journey there, we had to take a road that is heavily traveled but full of man eating potholes. You can't go very fast because of all the holes, and you also have to make sure not to get creamed by a dump truck as you swerve all over the road, avoiding all of the aforementioned holes.
Now, I wear a helmet pretty much everywhere I go. And every decent helmet has a visor that you can put down to protect your face. But my visor, for some reason, is in a constant state of dirty, and it's hard to see through. Also, when I put it down, my face gets all stuffy and claustrophobic. So I never drive with my visor down. Even when it's raining cats and dogs, which it wasn't on this particular day. It was a very sunshine-y, cheerful looking day.
As we were driving down this treacherous road, I was doing my best to avoid falling into a hole and/or getting run over by a truck while also trying to not let any traffic come in between me and the friend in front of me while ALSO keeping an eye on the friends behind me to make sure THEY didn't get separated from the group. So clearly, I was concentrating very deeply.
When ALL OF A SUDDEN, in my peripheral vision, I saw something dark FLYING at my face. Since I drive with my visor up, it is not uncommon for me to sometimes hit a bug with my face, which you can probably imagine stings quite a bit. So I ducked. But I was just a millisecond too late, and the flying object hit me square in my OPEN left eye (why did I not close my eye?!?). Then proceeded to run down my cheek and drip off my chin.
IT WAS BIRD POOP. IN MY EYE.
So now, on top of swerving around giant potholes, trying to not get hit by a truck, keeping up with the person in front of me, and not losing the people behind me, I had the ADDED challenge of...
1. Not letting bird poop drip all over my clothes. Or in my mouth.
2. Simply SEEING through my now-teary eyes.
3. Driving a motorbike with only one hand while the other tried to wipe all the bird poop out of my left eye.
4. And generally not dying.
Thankfully, when this happened, we were only about five minutes away from our friend's new house. Unfortunately, when we got there and all got parked, this conversation happened:
Friend 1: What happened to you?
Me: Where is the sink??
Friend 2: Why are you crying?
Me: Where is the sink?!
Friend 3: Why do you have black stuff all over your face?
Me: WHERE IS THE SINK?!
Friend 4: Are you OK?
Me: NO! WHERE IS THE SINK?!?!?!?!?
Someone was in the bathroom, so I ended up rinsing my eye several times in the kitchen sink, which I eventually found on my own. My friends are clearly no help and not to be relied on in an emergency.
Part way through dinner, my eye finally stopped burning and watering, and I was fine for the rest of the night. The next two mornings though, I had to use cotton swabs to wipe black stuff out from all the corners and crevices of my eyeball. It just kept coming.
Basically, I am now traumatized, and I duck like a crazy person every time I see anything flying through the air while I am driving. But I still don't close my visor.
Epilogue:
The day after that happened, a bat flew into the side of my helmet. I feel extremely grateful that it wasn't my face.
28 October 2014
22 October 2014
Overwhelmed
The title of this post describes pretty perfectly how I've felt lately. And it explains why I haven't written for awhile. When I feel overwhelmed, I don't really like to talk about it or to process it. I'd really just rather hide in a dark corner until it goes away. So sometimes I do that. Metaphorically. So if you ever notice that I haven't written something for awhile, maybe just say a prayer for me? Because I probably need it.
This week especially has been a week of high highs and low lows. The Bible says to rejoice with those who rejoice and to weep with those who weep. That generally comes pretty easily to me, especially that second part. I mean, the surest way to get me to cry is to show me someone crying. Or even just a picture of a sad looking animal will suffice.
Anyways, it has been one of those weeks - a week of joys and a week of tears. A dear co-worker's father was killed last night when he was trapped in his burning home. Some co-workers who lost their baby daughter shortly before moving here announced today that they are pregnant. A student is in Singapore seeking answers to his declining health - for what doctors there now describe as the worst case of mono they've ever seen. A friend came safely home from a two week ministry trip to Pakistan, bringing lots of gifts and pictures and stories to tell. The mother of a student shattered her elbow and has spent the week seeing specialists in a city far from here with no indication of when she'll be able to return home to her children. A local friend sent me a heartfelt e-mail expressing how thankful he is for me and the work that I do here. A lady in our community suffered a stroke yesterday. A missionary family well known and loved by people here lost their 20 year old daughter to cancer. A student brought me a gift this morning, just to thank me for being his teacher. A mission pilot in a neighboring country had his leg cut off in an emergency amputation after an accident. Our school passed a government inspection on Monday, and they are even pleased with our work here. Someone who has been a huge help and blessing to me is quickly but bravely dying of cancer.
Someone described this week as "life according to Job", because it has seemed like bad news on top of bad news. I have a notebook that I write down Bible verses in. Verses that are meaningful to me in some way or another. I knew I had a few verses from Job written down, so I decided to look them up. I don't remember what I was thinking as I wrote down most of these verses, or why they were so meaningful to me at the time. Maybe God just highlighted them for me so that I would be able to go back and read them when I needed them - like today. This is a comprehensive list of all the verses from Job written in my notebook.
God hurts, but He also bandages up; He injures, but His hands also heal. - Job 5:18
God is gently calling you from the jaws of trouble to an open place of freedom. - Job 36:16a
Death is naked before God; destruction is uncovered before Him. God stretches the northern sky out over empty space and hangs the earth on nothing. He wraps up the waters in His thick clouds, but the clouds do not break under their weight. And these are only a small part of God's works. We only hear a small whisper of Him. - Job 26:6-8, 14a
Like, really. If you haven't read Job for awhile, do it. I think it's one of the most underrated books of the Old Testament. Because THAT is good stuff, right there.
I don't know if this whirlwind is going to let up anytime soon, so in the meantime I will continue to rejoice with those who rejoice, and maybe even more often to weep with those who weep. But no matter what, at the end of the day, I know that my God has overcome the world.
This week especially has been a week of high highs and low lows. The Bible says to rejoice with those who rejoice and to weep with those who weep. That generally comes pretty easily to me, especially that second part. I mean, the surest way to get me to cry is to show me someone crying. Or even just a picture of a sad looking animal will suffice.
Anyways, it has been one of those weeks - a week of joys and a week of tears. A dear co-worker's father was killed last night when he was trapped in his burning home. Some co-workers who lost their baby daughter shortly before moving here announced today that they are pregnant. A student is in Singapore seeking answers to his declining health - for what doctors there now describe as the worst case of mono they've ever seen. A friend came safely home from a two week ministry trip to Pakistan, bringing lots of gifts and pictures and stories to tell. The mother of a student shattered her elbow and has spent the week seeing specialists in a city far from here with no indication of when she'll be able to return home to her children. A local friend sent me a heartfelt e-mail expressing how thankful he is for me and the work that I do here. A lady in our community suffered a stroke yesterday. A missionary family well known and loved by people here lost their 20 year old daughter to cancer. A student brought me a gift this morning, just to thank me for being his teacher. A mission pilot in a neighboring country had his leg cut off in an emergency amputation after an accident. Our school passed a government inspection on Monday, and they are even pleased with our work here. Someone who has been a huge help and blessing to me is quickly but bravely dying of cancer.
Someone described this week as "life according to Job", because it has seemed like bad news on top of bad news. I have a notebook that I write down Bible verses in. Verses that are meaningful to me in some way or another. I knew I had a few verses from Job written down, so I decided to look them up. I don't remember what I was thinking as I wrote down most of these verses, or why they were so meaningful to me at the time. Maybe God just highlighted them for me so that I would be able to go back and read them when I needed them - like today. This is a comprehensive list of all the verses from Job written in my notebook.
God hurts, but He also bandages up; He injures, but His hands also heal. - Job 5:18
God is gently calling you from the jaws of trouble to an open place of freedom. - Job 36:16a
Death is naked before God; destruction is uncovered before Him. God stretches the northern sky out over empty space and hangs the earth on nothing. He wraps up the waters in His thick clouds, but the clouds do not break under their weight. And these are only a small part of God's works. We only hear a small whisper of Him. - Job 26:6-8, 14a
Like, really. If you haven't read Job for awhile, do it. I think it's one of the most underrated books of the Old Testament. Because THAT is good stuff, right there.
I don't know if this whirlwind is going to let up anytime soon, so in the meantime I will continue to rejoice with those who rejoice, and maybe even more often to weep with those who weep. But no matter what, at the end of the day, I know that my God has overcome the world.
28 September 2014
Grocery Shopping
I went to the grocery store earlier today. The one and only supermarket we have in our town of 180,000 people. It's usually a crowded place, and today was no exception. I got the few things I needed and headed to the cash register. Thankfully, they almost always have one line that is designated "no carts". I had a basket of less than 10 items, so I waited in that line. There were three people in front of me. Well, four, if you count the lady who carried two papayas to the bagging area and shouted for the cashier to check her out next. "I ONLY HAVE TWO. CAN YOU SEE? I ONLY HAVE TWO." Crazy old bat, waving her papayas around in the air. Like she just don't care.
It was probably only a five minute wait, and I was entertained by the cute baby in line in front of me. I mean, she was with her parents. But now I have a vision of a 9 month old in a jilbab carrying a basket of groceries. It's pretty funny.... Speaking of which, I did get rammed from behind by a three year old with a shopping cart, because some parents think it's acceptable to let their kids do whatever they want. The mother only laughed at me. Even after I gave her the death look that I generally reserve for really naughty students.
Anyways, back to the cashier. She rang up all my items. But the last one was giving her problems. She could scan the bar code, but for some reason, the system wasn't reading it. It was just packets of dried ginger to make hot drinks with. She entered the code manually. Still nothing. So she called over a security guard and asked him to go write down the number. She bagged all my other items, but the guard wasn't back yet. So she asked me to stand at the end of the conveyor belt while she rang up everyone in line behind me.
TEN MINUTES LATER, the security guard came back and said he couldn't find where I'd gotten the stuff from (this store is not THAT big). So I offered to go show him. We finally made it to the correct aisle (after tripping over one small child and getting hit by an old lady's shopping cart). "Oh, so THAT'S where you got it from!" Yes, with all of the other ginger based drinks located in the only hot beverages aisle in the entire store. He wrote down the code on his hand with a pen, and we headed back to the cash register.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the cashier was ringing up people who weren't even in line yet when I had checked out. We had to wait for her to finish ringing up someone who thought it would be cool to stuff FOUR baskets with groceries in order to avoid the long cart checkout line and then pay with a credit card for which the processing machine was located two registers away from ours.
Once that ordeal was finally over, the guard showed the writing on his hand to the cashier, who tried to enter it into the cash register FIVE times. The same number. Over and over. Still nothing.
So she turned to me and said with her best smile, "Sorry, you can't buy this."
And this is why I love/hate grocery shopping in Indonesia.
It was probably only a five minute wait, and I was entertained by the cute baby in line in front of me. I mean, she was with her parents. But now I have a vision of a 9 month old in a jilbab carrying a basket of groceries. It's pretty funny.... Speaking of which, I did get rammed from behind by a three year old with a shopping cart, because some parents think it's acceptable to let their kids do whatever they want. The mother only laughed at me. Even after I gave her the death look that I generally reserve for really naughty students.
Anyways, back to the cashier. She rang up all my items. But the last one was giving her problems. She could scan the bar code, but for some reason, the system wasn't reading it. It was just packets of dried ginger to make hot drinks with. She entered the code manually. Still nothing. So she called over a security guard and asked him to go write down the number. She bagged all my other items, but the guard wasn't back yet. So she asked me to stand at the end of the conveyor belt while she rang up everyone in line behind me.
TEN MINUTES LATER, the security guard came back and said he couldn't find where I'd gotten the stuff from (this store is not THAT big). So I offered to go show him. We finally made it to the correct aisle (after tripping over one small child and getting hit by an old lady's shopping cart). "Oh, so THAT'S where you got it from!" Yes, with all of the other ginger based drinks located in the only hot beverages aisle in the entire store. He wrote down the code on his hand with a pen, and we headed back to the cash register.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the cashier was ringing up people who weren't even in line yet when I had checked out. We had to wait for her to finish ringing up someone who thought it would be cool to stuff FOUR baskets with groceries in order to avoid the long cart checkout line and then pay with a credit card for which the processing machine was located two registers away from ours.
Once that ordeal was finally over, the guard showed the writing on his hand to the cashier, who tried to enter it into the cash register FIVE times. The same number. Over and over. Still nothing.
So she turned to me and said with her best smile, "Sorry, you can't buy this."
And this is why I love/hate grocery shopping in Indonesia.
16 September 2014
Quiz
Let me just start off by saying how much I love that I can now blog from home once again. Thank you, new laptop.
Here is the point of this post though. I just took one of those silly online quizzes. You know, the kind all your friends are doing, but they feel like they shouldn't be doing, so every time they post the results, their comment begins with, "I never do these quizzes, but..." Let's not kid ourselves. These quizzes are pretty amusing, and even though we have a thousand other more important things to do at any moment, at least own up to your guilty quiz taking pleasure.
Anyways, there is this one doing the rounds where you're asked to answer 20 simple questions, and then they tell you who you are. According to several of my friends who have taken the quiz (even though they "never do things like this..."), the results are "creepily accurate". So obviously I HAD to take the quiz.
The questions ranged from fairly typical get-to-know-you questions (What is your favorite food?) to kind of bizarre (Do you enjoy the experience of eating corn on the cob?). I answered each one accurately.
And these are my results:
1. You are male.
2. You are still a teenager, but won't be one for very much longer.
3. You're in college and are already worried about finding the perfect job that will be both fulfilling and will pay well. Your future worries you more than you'd like to admit.
4. You have beautiful, silky brown hair and big eyes.
5. You know that if you'd only believe in yourself more, things would be much easier for you. Yet you still doubt your instincts more than you should, instead of trusting them every time.
This explains so much...
Here is the point of this post though. I just took one of those silly online quizzes. You know, the kind all your friends are doing, but they feel like they shouldn't be doing, so every time they post the results, their comment begins with, "I never do these quizzes, but..." Let's not kid ourselves. These quizzes are pretty amusing, and even though we have a thousand other more important things to do at any moment, at least own up to your guilty quiz taking pleasure.
Anyways, there is this one doing the rounds where you're asked to answer 20 simple questions, and then they tell you who you are. According to several of my friends who have taken the quiz (even though they "never do things like this..."), the results are "creepily accurate". So obviously I HAD to take the quiz.
The questions ranged from fairly typical get-to-know-you questions (What is your favorite food?) to kind of bizarre (Do you enjoy the experience of eating corn on the cob?). I answered each one accurately.
And these are my results:
1. You are male.
2. You are still a teenager, but won't be one for very much longer.
3. You're in college and are already worried about finding the perfect job that will be both fulfilling and will pay well. Your future worries you more than you'd like to admit.
4. You have beautiful, silky brown hair and big eyes.
5. You know that if you'd only believe in yourself more, things would be much easier for you. Yet you still doubt your instincts more than you should, instead of trusting them every time.
This explains so much...
15 September 2014
Some Little Big Things
I feel like the last couple of weeks have been full of new/big things. Three different sports seasons are currently under way, so there is never any shortage of after school entertainment around here! Our school also changed its name last week after a mandate from the government stating that no school in the entire country is allowed to use the word “International” in its name (this in response to a child molestation case at another international school… What is the connection, you might ask? Well, your guess is as good as mine…). We didn’t do anything drastic, we just dropped the word “international” from our name. So now in our school name’s abbreviation, there is no longer a vowel, which makes it hard to say. But oh well, what can ya do? Now comes the process of changing our website, our letterhead, all of our signs and banners, our official documentation, our visas, our sports jerseys, etc… I’m glad I am not a part of that process because it sounds no fun.
This past weekend, however, was LOTS of fun. Some friends and I planned a trip to the beach, and we stayed overnight in Jogjakarta, the arts and culture capital of Java. I always enjoy visiting Jogja, and I feel like I’d like to stay there for a longer period of time someday and just experience the city. Maybe during a break or something. Here are just a few snapshots I took with my phone.
There is a song called “Indiana”, and the first verse was running through my head while I was sitting in the sand, just watching the waves come crashing in.
While in Jogja, I also bought a new (drumroll please…) LAPTOP. The hard drive in my last laptop crashed in March, so I’ve gone 6 months without one. I was partly saving up money and partly also challenging myself to live without the technology. It was doable. But I’ll be honest - it was a looong six months. If I needed the internet, I either had to open it up on my phone or come to school to use a computer. I also don’t have a TV, and my laptop was my only way to watch shows I had saved on the hard drive. So I’ve gone half a year with very limited internet and TV use. In that time, I’ve crocheted two and a half blankets, read four classics, and spent more time painting my fingernails than I ever thought possible. I’m a child of the late 20th century. I’m ready to have some technology back in my life.
Unfortunately, this being Indonesia, all the software that was installed on my new laptop was pirated, including the operating system. Thankfully, I work for an awesome school, and I can get things like Windows 8 and MS Office for free through the school’s license! So hooray for little victories like that!
It’s time to head home (I’m writing this on a school desktop while waiting for our IT guy to finish installing all my legit new software), so I’ll leave you with this conversational gem a friend of mine had with another friend’s 3 year old son recently. A little background - this whole conversation took place at yet ANOTHER friend's house while we were all hanging out. And the kid is being raised in a Muslim home.
Kid: Where's my mom?
Friend: She left you.
Kid: No! Where is my mom?!
Me: Calm down. She went to buy milk, she said.
Kid: You're mean! (punches friend in the leg)
Friend: Who do you trust? Me or her?
Kid: I trust my mom! Where is my mom?
Friend: No. I think you should trust in Jesus.
Kid: No. I only trust my mom.
Friend: Do you know who Jesus is??
Kid: No! Yes!
Friend: Who is Jesus?
Kid: He's a zombie.
And this is funny to me because, if you think about it, he's not that far off... I mean, Jesus did come back from the dead...
This past weekend, however, was LOTS of fun. Some friends and I planned a trip to the beach, and we stayed overnight in Jogjakarta, the arts and culture capital of Java. I always enjoy visiting Jogja, and I feel like I’d like to stay there for a longer period of time someday and just experience the city. Maybe during a break or something. Here are just a few snapshots I took with my phone.
“I’m glad I never lived next to the water,
so I could never get used to the beach.
And I’m glad I never grew up on a mountain,
to figure out how high the world could reach.”
Indiana may be boring and full of cows and corn, but at least it taught me to appreciate the mountains and oceans of Indonesia!
While we were in Jogja, we ate dinner at a fancy Mediterranean restaurant. We don’t often get international food where we live – it’s mostly all rice and veggies – so having a nice dinner like this is always a special treat. While we were there, one of my friends pulled out a bag of fried grasshoppers and dared everyone to eat one (what are we, in third grade??). I’ll eat anything once, but I didn’t want to volunteer too quickly. Like the shrewd businesswoman that I am (ya, right), I wanted to see what I could get out of the deal. I got him to agree to buy me creme brulee (on the menu there!) for dessert if I downed one whole grasshopper. I definitely got the better end of that deal!
While in Jogja, I also bought a new (drumroll please…) LAPTOP. The hard drive in my last laptop crashed in March, so I’ve gone 6 months without one. I was partly saving up money and partly also challenging myself to live without the technology. It was doable. But I’ll be honest - it was a looong six months. If I needed the internet, I either had to open it up on my phone or come to school to use a computer. I also don’t have a TV, and my laptop was my only way to watch shows I had saved on the hard drive. So I’ve gone half a year with very limited internet and TV use. In that time, I’ve crocheted two and a half blankets, read four classics, and spent more time painting my fingernails than I ever thought possible. I’m a child of the late 20th century. I’m ready to have some technology back in my life.
Unfortunately, this being Indonesia, all the software that was installed on my new laptop was pirated, including the operating system. Thankfully, I work for an awesome school, and I can get things like Windows 8 and MS Office for free through the school’s license! So hooray for little victories like that!
It’s time to head home (I’m writing this on a school desktop while waiting for our IT guy to finish installing all my legit new software), so I’ll leave you with this conversational gem a friend of mine had with another friend’s 3 year old son recently. A little background - this whole conversation took place at yet ANOTHER friend's house while we were all hanging out. And the kid is being raised in a Muslim home.
Kid: Where's my mom?
Friend: She left you.
Kid: No! Where is my mom?!
Me: Calm down. She went to buy milk, she said.
Kid: You're mean! (punches friend in the leg)
Friend: Who do you trust? Me or her?
Kid: I trust my mom! Where is my mom?
Friend: No. I think you should trust in Jesus.
Kid: No. I only trust my mom.
Friend: Do you know who Jesus is??
Kid: No! Yes!
Friend: Who is Jesus?
Kid: He's a zombie.
And this is funny to me because, if you think about it, he's not that far off... I mean, Jesus did come back from the dead...
12 September 2014
Directions
Senior: Miss, can you help me give my life some direction?
Me: Uh..... Like what? North?
Senior: No, like what should I major in?
Me: Well, what are you interested in?
Senior: Rapping.
Me: Uh..... Like what? North?
Senior: No, like what should I major in?
Me: Well, what are you interested in?
Senior: Rapping.
08 September 2014
Lavender Scones
I've been on this lavender craze lately. I've been using it for everything I possibly could use it for. My most recent adventure was to cook with it. I made some lavender scones last night. FYI, if you want a delicious smelling house, bake something with lavender in it.
Anyways, the recipe ended up making way more than I thought it would. More than I can eat myself. So I brought them to AP Calculus class this morning. I only have 8 students in the class, and I like to treat them when I can. I mean, it's a tough class. I put their brains through the wringer just about every day.
I warned them ahead of time that this would be a different taste because there were actual flower parts baked into the scones. Everyone was brave enough to try at least one bite. Follow up comments included...
Did you put toothpaste in these?
My burp tastes flowery.
This is a taste that I have never tasted before. But I think it's good.
When I first tried it, it was not good. But then I kept eating it, and now it's good.
Is this even healthy?
Oh! This tastes like my shampoo!
Mmm... My mouth smells so nice now.
So I guess that maybe I should bake them some weird stuff more often. Makes for a good chuckle in math class and a very nice smelling house.
Anyways, the recipe ended up making way more than I thought it would. More than I can eat myself. So I brought them to AP Calculus class this morning. I only have 8 students in the class, and I like to treat them when I can. I mean, it's a tough class. I put their brains through the wringer just about every day.
I warned them ahead of time that this would be a different taste because there were actual flower parts baked into the scones. Everyone was brave enough to try at least one bite. Follow up comments included...
Did you put toothpaste in these?
My burp tastes flowery.
This is a taste that I have never tasted before. But I think it's good.
When I first tried it, it was not good. But then I kept eating it, and now it's good.
Is this even healthy?
Oh! This tastes like my shampoo!
Mmm... My mouth smells so nice now.
So I guess that maybe I should bake them some weird stuff more often. Makes for a good chuckle in math class and a very nice smelling house.
28 August 2014
Two Wrongs Do Not Make a Right (But Three Lefts Do).
Me: BOYS! Hands to yourselves! So violent today...
Boy: I hit him because he hurt my finger first!
Me: Two wrongs does not make a right!
Boy: Okaaaaaaay.
Other boy: What?! Two frogs does not what...?
Boy: I hit him because he hurt my finger first!
Me: Two wrongs does not make a right!
Boy: Okaaaaaaay.
Other boy: What?! Two frogs does not what...?
24 August 2014
23 August 2014
The Village Pastor
I had a bad week. We had our secondary student retreat. And it was great. For the students. But it was a slap in the face for me. SO much work went into planning and organizing it, and I was looking forward to spending time with my students outside the classroom. But I felt like retreat this year was 36 straight hours of discipline issues. There were times I didn't even get to eat meals because I was dealing with student behavior. For 36 straight hours, I felt devalued, disrespected, and like my presence at this school is unessential. I stayed awake in bed last night wondering to myself if this will be my last term here. I was exhausted. I was worn out. I was emotional.
Some people from my church are planning on doing a service day in early September in a small mountain village about 1500 meters up from where we are. Today we did a survey trip to meet with the village pastor and discuss some of our ideas with him.
I've been to a lot of villages, several of them mountain villages. The people up there are... different. They look almost aboriginal, with very dark skin, flat noses, wide set eyes, and prominent lower jaws. They are almost all farmers, living in near poverty. While they may claim one religion or another, animism also tends to hold a prominent position in just about every mountain village I've encountered. And they are, for the most part, uneducated. Girls often drop out of school and marry after completing the 6th grade. It's not that there is no desire for education. It's that there are no schools.
But even with knowing what I know, I wasn't prepared for today.
I wasn't ready for them to tell us that there are no teenagers there. Not a single one. Because none of them want to live the lives their parents have. They move to town either to work or to try to scrape together enough money to go to middle school or high school.
I wasn't ready for them to reveal that every man in that village cheats on his wife. It's just the way things work there.
I wasn't ready for them to tell us that every single person in that village is living in debt. Because when their crop fails, they take out a loan to live on. But then they take out another loan to pay off the first one. Then another to pay off the second one. And it turns into a vicious cycle with growing interest rates that nobody knows how to break free from.
I wasn't ready to see how defeated Pastor Ishak was. He has given so much of himself to that village. He knows he is dying. And he fears that the church there will die with him.
I wasn't ready for the tears streaming down his wife's face as she shared with us how she faithfully prays and fasts for the people of that village, but how in 35 years, she's seen no growth.
Pak Ishak and his wife have been working, giving, and serving in that village for 35 YEARS. When we asked them to tell us something positive about the village, both of them just looked at their laps silently.
But they remain faithful to God and his plan, because they believe that they have been called there for a reason and that God will be faithful to carry that to completion.
So today was my second slap in the face this week. Because if Pastor Ishak can be faithful through those circumstances for 35 years, who am I to throw in the towel after 36 difficult hours?
Some people from my church are planning on doing a service day in early September in a small mountain village about 1500 meters up from where we are. Today we did a survey trip to meet with the village pastor and discuss some of our ideas with him.
I've been to a lot of villages, several of them mountain villages. The people up there are... different. They look almost aboriginal, with very dark skin, flat noses, wide set eyes, and prominent lower jaws. They are almost all farmers, living in near poverty. While they may claim one religion or another, animism also tends to hold a prominent position in just about every mountain village I've encountered. And they are, for the most part, uneducated. Girls often drop out of school and marry after completing the 6th grade. It's not that there is no desire for education. It's that there are no schools.
But even with knowing what I know, I wasn't prepared for today.
I wasn't ready for them to tell us that there are no teenagers there. Not a single one. Because none of them want to live the lives their parents have. They move to town either to work or to try to scrape together enough money to go to middle school or high school.
I wasn't ready for them to reveal that every man in that village cheats on his wife. It's just the way things work there.
I wasn't ready for them to tell us that every single person in that village is living in debt. Because when their crop fails, they take out a loan to live on. But then they take out another loan to pay off the first one. Then another to pay off the second one. And it turns into a vicious cycle with growing interest rates that nobody knows how to break free from.
I wasn't ready to see how defeated Pastor Ishak was. He has given so much of himself to that village. He knows he is dying. And he fears that the church there will die with him.
I wasn't ready for the tears streaming down his wife's face as she shared with us how she faithfully prays and fasts for the people of that village, but how in 35 years, she's seen no growth.
But they remain faithful to God and his plan, because they believe that they have been called there for a reason and that God will be faithful to carry that to completion.
So today was my second slap in the face this week. Because if Pastor Ishak can be faithful through those circumstances for 35 years, who am I to throw in the towel after 36 difficult hours?
15 August 2014
Proof of Life
Hello, all!
Sorry I've been delinquent in writing for several months now. The vast majority of people who read this are friends and family in America, and I got to be with you this summer, so I never felt the need to update online. For those of you who aren't in America and/or I didn't get to see over the past few months, I'm sorry for not keeping you updated on my most recent escapades.
Once I get a chance to sort through and edit all my summer pictures, I'll try to do some little (or let's fact it - probably not-so-little) blurb on what I did this summer.
At any rate, it was a VERY good and refreshing summer. SO good, in fact, that it was hard to leave, and I struggled a bit in my readjustment to Indonesia.
I came back just four days before Idul Fitri, which was probably not the smartest idea. I basically came back to the worst traffic you can imagine, mosques blaring all day every day, bombs and fireworks being set off all night long, and other general festivities. That really didn't help me get over all my jet lag, and it also didn't help me have a good attitude about being back.
I've been back for three weeks now though, and with a week of school under my belt, I think I'm finally settled back into the swing of things.
I'm teaching 9th grade Geometry, 10th grade Algebra 2, 11th grade Pre-Calculus/Trigonometry, and 12th grade AP Calculus. So basically, I'm teaching math to our entire high school. We have several new students this year, and I think I've memorized all their names by now - even how to pronounce them properly (that's the hardest part usually)!
Anyways, it's Friday evening, and I'm grading stacks of homework... already. I just wanted to take a minute and let you all know I'm alive and well.
And thank you to everyone who made my summer home awesome. :)
23 May 2014
Sunrise
Yesterday morning, verrrrry early morning, some of us got a little crazy and decided to wake up at 4:30 AM, drive to the next town, and watch the sunrise. It's basically the end of the school year, and lots of us will be leaving soon - for the summer or for good - so we're trying to make the most of the time we have left.
It was cold and dark and damp and foggy. But it was a fun morning. And I took some fun pictures. And I haven't posted any pictures on here for awhile. So I will post these pictures on here now.
Please be jealous of what a beautiful place I get to call home.
Coro
Wanna hear a gross story?
Graduation was yesterday. I was a tiny bit late getting out the door, so I threw my shoes on fast and started walking up to the high school. Something felt a little funny, but I didn't pay much attention to it. Until I got into the auditorium and parents and friends and families and students were coming in, and I was ushering them to their seats. Kind of. I was mostly just greeting people and letting them know which seats were for families of seniors and which seats were for everyone else.
Then I thought to myself, "Why does my foot feel all wet and sticky?" (FYI, this is a terrible question to have to ask oneself.)
Naturally, I took my shoe off to check. There was a freshly dead cockroach, mostly whole, but slightly smeared across the bottom of my foot. His legs were definitely stuck between my toes.
This was problematic, as I was still greeting people, now on one foot and with one shoe in my hand. One of my sophomores came in, and I pulled him aside, showed him my predicament, and asked him to bring me roughly 1000 tissues. He came back in no time at all with a huge pile of them, which I was able to use to wipe most of the nasty off my foot (and out of my shoe) with. Then I carried on as usual.
Wanna hear a better story?
I WILL BE ON A PLANE TO AMERICA IN ONE WEEK!!!!
I feel like I have SO MUCH to do between now and then! More teacher meetings, cleaning out my entire classroom, organizing all my files, checking in all textbooks, shopping for gifts, arranging money for summer bills, finding someone to take care of my bike and my cats, arranging airport transport, getting my exit permit and passport in order, packing...
I have faith it will all get done. And if it doesn't, then oh, well. Because I'm OUTTA here!
Goodbye, cockroaches...
Graduation was yesterday. I was a tiny bit late getting out the door, so I threw my shoes on fast and started walking up to the high school. Something felt a little funny, but I didn't pay much attention to it. Until I got into the auditorium and parents and friends and families and students were coming in, and I was ushering them to their seats. Kind of. I was mostly just greeting people and letting them know which seats were for families of seniors and which seats were for everyone else.
Then I thought to myself, "Why does my foot feel all wet and sticky?" (FYI, this is a terrible question to have to ask oneself.)
Naturally, I took my shoe off to check. There was a freshly dead cockroach, mostly whole, but slightly smeared across the bottom of my foot. His legs were definitely stuck between my toes.
This was problematic, as I was still greeting people, now on one foot and with one shoe in my hand. One of my sophomores came in, and I pulled him aside, showed him my predicament, and asked him to bring me roughly 1000 tissues. He came back in no time at all with a huge pile of them, which I was able to use to wipe most of the nasty off my foot (and out of my shoe) with. Then I carried on as usual.
Wanna hear a better story?
I WILL BE ON A PLANE TO AMERICA IN ONE WEEK!!!!
I feel like I have SO MUCH to do between now and then! More teacher meetings, cleaning out my entire classroom, organizing all my files, checking in all textbooks, shopping for gifts, arranging money for summer bills, finding someone to take care of my bike and my cats, arranging airport transport, getting my exit permit and passport in order, packing...
I have faith it will all get done. And if it doesn't, then oh, well. Because I'm OUTTA here!
Goodbye, cockroaches...
21 May 2014
Recommendations
A student just this week decided to apply to SIX different Korean colleges. So guess which teacher is frantically filling out recommendation forms and writing recommendation letters?
THIS TEACHER!
Just came across this gem though, and I'm not really sure how to answer it.
"Please specify any additional or useful information related to the applicant's educational background or the high school's peculiarity for better understanding the applicant."
High school's peculiarity? I've written dozens of recommendation letters, and I've never seen this one...
THIS TEACHER!
Just came across this gem though, and I'm not really sure how to answer it.
"Please specify any additional or useful information related to the applicant's educational background or the high school's peculiarity for better understanding the applicant."
High school's peculiarity? I've written dozens of recommendation letters, and I've never seen this one...
19 May 2014
HAPPY THOUGHTS
DAY ONE OF FINALS DOWN!
And today has been good news after good news and accomplishing so many things and lots of coffee and good food and going home from work early and spontaneous ice cream dates with ninth graders and ah... Monday gets such a bad rap. But why?
And today has been good news after good news and accomplishing so many things and lots of coffee and good food and going home from work early and spontaneous ice cream dates with ninth graders and ah... Monday gets such a bad rap. But why?
16 May 2014
Things That Make Me Cry Like A Baby on A Friday Afternoon
Being a math teacher, I don't get to see a whole lot of student writing. I mostly see lots of little numbers all over lots of loose leaf pages, and if I'm lucky, they boxed the numbers that are their answers.
We have been having some ongoing honesty issues in the 9th grade class this year, and last week there was kind of a culminating event where the entire class participated in doing something they knew was against the rules and then tried to hide it. Unfortunately for them, I had figured out what they were up to, and I was lying in wait.
So I gave them a very stern talking to about the importance of honesty and integrity and how they had broken my trust. They mostly laughed it off.
This concerned me. Even more than their lack of regard for respect and honesty, they couldn't take the situation seriously and they didn't see any need to apologize.
So I talked to my principal about this. I wondered if there should be further action on my part to help them see that their sneakiness and dishonesty really is a big deal. He decided that HE would come address them and that they would have a classwide detention to give them time to reflect and write a letter of apology.
In the meantime, I also constructed a letter to them which I posted on our class page for them to read, just addressing how their actions made me as a teacher feel disrespected and how important it is to take responsibility for your actions and apologize. I tried to make it very clear to them that I care about the young men and women they are becoming and that their character is far more important to me than their math grade.
Anyways, today, I received all of their apology notes (they served the detention with another teacher yesterday). I honestly wasn't expecting a whole lot, given their initial reaction of laughing off the situation.
I severely underestimated them. Writing is SUCH a powerful tool. These kids expressed things to me that I didn't even know they were capable of feeling! By the end of the first letter, I was crying like a baby.
Excerpts include (and keep in mind all but one are ESL students):
We have been having some ongoing honesty issues in the 9th grade class this year, and last week there was kind of a culminating event where the entire class participated in doing something they knew was against the rules and then tried to hide it. Unfortunately for them, I had figured out what they were up to, and I was lying in wait.
So I gave them a very stern talking to about the importance of honesty and integrity and how they had broken my trust. They mostly laughed it off.
This concerned me. Even more than their lack of regard for respect and honesty, they couldn't take the situation seriously and they didn't see any need to apologize.
So I talked to my principal about this. I wondered if there should be further action on my part to help them see that their sneakiness and dishonesty really is a big deal. He decided that HE would come address them and that they would have a classwide detention to give them time to reflect and write a letter of apology.
In the meantime, I also constructed a letter to them which I posted on our class page for them to read, just addressing how their actions made me as a teacher feel disrespected and how important it is to take responsibility for your actions and apologize. I tried to make it very clear to them that I care about the young men and women they are becoming and that their character is far more important to me than their math grade.
Anyways, today, I received all of their apology notes (they served the detention with another teacher yesterday). I honestly wasn't expecting a whole lot, given their initial reaction of laughing off the situation.
I severely underestimated them. Writing is SUCH a powerful tool. These kids expressed things to me that I didn't even know they were capable of feeling! By the end of the first letter, I was crying like a baby.
Excerpts include (and keep in mind all but one are ESL students):
"I can't pick up my spilled milk, but I believe I can wipe it off and clean it. Will you forgive me?"
"Thank you for sending that letter. Through that letter, I finally admitted what I did wrong. You helped me admit my dishonesty and lead to confession to God. Thank you."
"Thank you so much for loving us. I never want you to feel disrespected when you deserve so much respect and love from everyone."
"Your hair lips eyes and everything else - they are perfect."
"I will make sure we trust each other from now on and have a fabulous relationship."
"You've done so much for us, and yet we disrespected you. But in the midst of it all you loved us and had so much patience toward us. Thank you so much."
"I literally cried reading the letter because it was such a Beyonce move, like the whole thing was so flawless. The letter didn't bore me and at the end it was Niagara Falls in my house because the letter is that intimate. I respect you so much on so many different levels and your amazing and literally flawless and full of sass."
"ILYSM"
"You care for us, you love us, but I have to admit that I hadn't respected and acknowledged your time and love."
"I am thankful that I have been given a time to reflect and change my path before it actually becomes a habbit."
"I am looking forward to mend this trust and make it stronger than before."
"Thank you for all the teaching and love you gave to me."
"Thank you for caring about us. Thank you for not ignoring the fault you see in us and taking the time and effort and heart to fix it. I see it as an act of love."
"Apart from being a teacher, you are a great unni (older sister/girl)!" - From a Korean girl :)
"I know we broke your heart, but I hope you can trust us again."
"I have never written a letter in English, so I am not sure if I am expressing my feelings in a right way, but I really want you to know that my apology is really sincere and is from my heart. We all love you as much as you love us."
GAH! These kids! They are so precious, and I love them so much...
08 May 2014
ANT INVASION
It is ant season. The time of year when rainy season changes to dry season and the ants move indoors in an attempt to find fresh food and (most importantly) water. This is also the season when they chew through the rubber fridge seal to give themselves 24 hour access and eat through plastic bags/packaging to get to whatever is inside. It doesn't even matter if the contents are sweet or not. They're in there. NOTHING IS SAFE.
Last night, I came home from Bible study (yes, Bible study two nights in a row. I'm so holy, right?) and everything looked normal. Then I felt really restless and I decided to go for a run (for the first time in.... maybe 2 years?). I made it almost a mile. In like 20 minutes. So yeah. That happened. And then I came back inside. And found...
ANTS EVERYWHERE. Like really. Walking in waves across my kitchen floor. Climbing the legs of my kitchen table. Climbing all of the cabinets, swarming in the sink and on top of the oven. They weren't even going to one specific place. They were EVERYWHERE. It was like some terrible low budget horror movie that everybody would be mildly grossed out by but not really scared of.
So I grabbed a can of Raid (bug poison) and thoroughly doused my kitchen in it. Then I realized that that may not have been the most sanitary idea. But the ants.... So I kept going. Until the entire can was gone. But there were still ants swarming all over the doors of my upper cupboards. So I filled a spray bottle with VINEGAR. It was all I could think of in a pinch. And it worked!!
I went to bed and left the writhing ants all over the kitchen. And I woke up this morning to find thousands more picking up where last night's crew had left off! I sprayed vinegar until I thought I was going to die of vinegar inhalation, which also happened to be the same time that all of the ants appeared to already be dead of vinegar inhalation. Then I opened all the doors and went to school. Ibu Sri is used to cleaning up my carnage by now. Bless her heart.
Last night, I came home from Bible study (yes, Bible study two nights in a row. I'm so holy, right?) and everything looked normal. Then I felt really restless and I decided to go for a run (for the first time in.... maybe 2 years?). I made it almost a mile. In like 20 minutes. So yeah. That happened. And then I came back inside. And found...
ANTS EVERYWHERE. Like really. Walking in waves across my kitchen floor. Climbing the legs of my kitchen table. Climbing all of the cabinets, swarming in the sink and on top of the oven. They weren't even going to one specific place. They were EVERYWHERE. It was like some terrible low budget horror movie that everybody would be mildly grossed out by but not really scared of.
So I grabbed a can of Raid (bug poison) and thoroughly doused my kitchen in it. Then I realized that that may not have been the most sanitary idea. But the ants.... So I kept going. Until the entire can was gone. But there were still ants swarming all over the doors of my upper cupboards. So I filled a spray bottle with VINEGAR. It was all I could think of in a pinch. And it worked!!
I went to bed and left the writhing ants all over the kitchen. And I woke up this morning to find thousands more picking up where last night's crew had left off! I sprayed vinegar until I thought I was going to die of vinegar inhalation, which also happened to be the same time that all of the ants appeared to already be dead of vinegar inhalation. Then I opened all the doors and went to school. Ibu Sri is used to cleaning up my carnage by now. Bless her heart.
07 May 2014
I Ate a Puppy: And Other Interesting Happenings
I was reading some article on the internet yesterday about how Obama once mentioned that he ate dog as a child growing up in Indonesia. Several people commented, saying how barbaric the practice is and how they can't believe they ever voted for such a heartless beast.
Well, get ready for a shocker, American friends.
I EAT DOG TOO.
In fact, I had it for dinner last night.
To be honest, it's not usually a food I would choose if there is other stuff on the menu. I LIKE the taste of dog meat, and I like the spices it is traditionally cooked in. But if you've ever seen me eat meat, you will know how meticulous I am in cutting away every single piece of fat, gristle, and bone before I will eat it. Unfortunately, the typical way to cook dog here is to just hack it up into random cubes, then cook it in a bunch of dark colored spices, thus making it impossible to differentiate between the meat, the fat, and the bone (often sharp shards of bone). Most Indonesians just pop a piece in their mouth and suck on it until all the meat and fat is gone, and then spit the bits of bone out. Yaaaaa, even after 6 years of living here, I can't bring myself to do that.
But I was eating at a friend's house last night, and what was on the table was an entire platter of dog. So I ate the dog. And if you think I am crazy or gross or heartless... well, that's fine. I'm not going to eat YOUR dog.
The reason I ate there last night was because we were having Bible study there. A man who used to be Muslim but converted to Christianity came and spoke. I honestly only understood about half of what he was saying, because he used Javanese (rather than Indonesian) a lot of the time. At one point though, he was talking about how when he was younger, he studied to be a dukun (witch doctor). And he turned to me and said, "What is your name?" I told him (for the fourth time), and he proceeded to say, "Dukuns don't like you. No. Because they have no power over you. They don't know how to curse you. They can't do it." I don't really know where that came from, but it was good to hear, I suppose. I am uncurseable.
Conversely, my church has been on this huge kick lately of using Americans as examples of immoral living or of what NOT to do. For example, last week, the sermon was on not using the Lord's name in vain. And the pastor used the example (based on movies he had watched) of how Americans commonly use phrases like, "Oh, my God!" And that is wrong and in direct violation of God's law.
Obviously, what he is saying is true. That is a common phrase in American English. However, it also has an equivalent in Indonesian and Javanese, which I hear equally as often. So why are we picking on Americans?
The worst time was several weeks ago when the person preaching started talking about how God values relationship. "OK. Agree so far." But the world we live in today has greatly devalued intimate relationship. "Mmhmm. Still going strong." In America, they even have such things as sperm banks! "Uh, where is this going?" The reason is because American women want to have babies, but they refuse to commit or submit to a man. "NO." They want the reward without doing any of the work. "WUT?"
As the only American - and the only white person - in my church, AND a female, that was a tough sermon to sit through. I really have no idea where all these Indonesian pastors are getting their information from. But it is about to drive me crazy. I hope this trend ends soon. And I hope that I am living in such a way that the other people in my church know that not ALL Americans are the way they are portrayed from the pulpit.
And one more sad news before I get to the fun stuff. I recently learned that I live in a country where proselytizing a child carries a heavier prison sentence than molesting a child. How does THAT make sense?
Now for a few lighter oddities.
Indonesian children LOVE flying kites. I see them everywhere. Since Indonesians tend to not have yards, most kids fly their kites in the street. I've always wondered what would happen if the kite was nosediving and the string got low enough to the ground right as a motorist drove by. And how fast would a vehicle have to be traveling in order for the kite string to decapitate someone who clotheslined themselves on it? Well, IT FINALLY HAPPENED.
No, I did not decapitate myself. But I clotheslined myself IN THE FACE on a dumb kite string. You can't see those things! They're so fine! But it hurt my nose and jerked the string out of the hands of the kid holding the reel. I was even wearing a helmet! I will now be much more cautious around children flying kites in the street.
And speaking of things hitting me in the face while driving...
I went out last Saturday evening. It was already dark when I left, and not too far from my house, I was distracted by a man standing beside the road. Now, a man is not an uncommon sight. I mean, I live on the most densely populated island in the world. But THIS man... this man was wearing cowboy hats and boots and was blowing bubbles. A 60 YEAR OLD MAN. On the streetside! I was trying to wrap my brain around this when all of a sudden, I hit a rainstorm. But it wasn't really a rainstorm. It was a BUBBLE STORM! I was driving through a storm of bubbles, and they were hitting me in the face, popping on my cheeks!
After I made it through, I thought to myself, "It's a good thing I didn't crash. Because nobody would have believed me when I explained why."
Last week, we had Monday off of school, but Ibu Sri (my helper) came in to work. I sat around my house and chatted with her while she did all my chores (just kidding), and she told me about how just the week before, she had been cooking when a 2 foot long snake slithered out of my bedroom and into the kitchen!! That would have been the same week I found a snakeskin laying on the sidewalk in front of my house. Then yesterday, I came home from school to find a note from Ibu Sri warning me to be careful because earlier that day, she had left my house for 10 minutes and when she came back, she found a "big enough" snakeskin laying out front! So basically, there is a large snake stalking my house. That is fantastic news. If one of my cats goes missing, I guess I'll know why...
One more story - last week, I got a FIVE PAGE LETTER. From a former student! I just want to point out how awesome this is. Because how many of you ever intentionally kept in touch with your high school math teacher when you were in college? None, am I right? This is such a special place, and I have such great kids, and I am already turning into an emotional wreck at the thought of them leaving. GAH.
(Also, I would like to give a shout out to my grandma and sister who also sent me handwritten notes last week! You guys are awesome too!)
OKbye.
Well, get ready for a shocker, American friends.
I EAT DOG TOO.
In fact, I had it for dinner last night.
To be honest, it's not usually a food I would choose if there is other stuff on the menu. I LIKE the taste of dog meat, and I like the spices it is traditionally cooked in. But if you've ever seen me eat meat, you will know how meticulous I am in cutting away every single piece of fat, gristle, and bone before I will eat it. Unfortunately, the typical way to cook dog here is to just hack it up into random cubes, then cook it in a bunch of dark colored spices, thus making it impossible to differentiate between the meat, the fat, and the bone (often sharp shards of bone). Most Indonesians just pop a piece in their mouth and suck on it until all the meat and fat is gone, and then spit the bits of bone out. Yaaaaa, even after 6 years of living here, I can't bring myself to do that.
But I was eating at a friend's house last night, and what was on the table was an entire platter of dog. So I ate the dog. And if you think I am crazy or gross or heartless... well, that's fine. I'm not going to eat YOUR dog.
The reason I ate there last night was because we were having Bible study there. A man who used to be Muslim but converted to Christianity came and spoke. I honestly only understood about half of what he was saying, because he used Javanese (rather than Indonesian) a lot of the time. At one point though, he was talking about how when he was younger, he studied to be a dukun (witch doctor). And he turned to me and said, "What is your name?" I told him (for the fourth time), and he proceeded to say, "Dukuns don't like you. No. Because they have no power over you. They don't know how to curse you. They can't do it." I don't really know where that came from, but it was good to hear, I suppose. I am uncurseable.
Conversely, my church has been on this huge kick lately of using Americans as examples of immoral living or of what NOT to do. For example, last week, the sermon was on not using the Lord's name in vain. And the pastor used the example (based on movies he had watched) of how Americans commonly use phrases like, "Oh, my God!" And that is wrong and in direct violation of God's law.
Obviously, what he is saying is true. That is a common phrase in American English. However, it also has an equivalent in Indonesian and Javanese, which I hear equally as often. So why are we picking on Americans?
The worst time was several weeks ago when the person preaching started talking about how God values relationship. "OK. Agree so far." But the world we live in today has greatly devalued intimate relationship. "Mmhmm. Still going strong." In America, they even have such things as sperm banks! "Uh, where is this going?" The reason is because American women want to have babies, but they refuse to commit or submit to a man. "NO." They want the reward without doing any of the work. "WUT?"
As the only American - and the only white person - in my church, AND a female, that was a tough sermon to sit through. I really have no idea where all these Indonesian pastors are getting their information from. But it is about to drive me crazy. I hope this trend ends soon. And I hope that I am living in such a way that the other people in my church know that not ALL Americans are the way they are portrayed from the pulpit.
And one more sad news before I get to the fun stuff. I recently learned that I live in a country where proselytizing a child carries a heavier prison sentence than molesting a child. How does THAT make sense?
Now for a few lighter oddities.
Indonesian children LOVE flying kites. I see them everywhere. Since Indonesians tend to not have yards, most kids fly their kites in the street. I've always wondered what would happen if the kite was nosediving and the string got low enough to the ground right as a motorist drove by. And how fast would a vehicle have to be traveling in order for the kite string to decapitate someone who clotheslined themselves on it? Well, IT FINALLY HAPPENED.
No, I did not decapitate myself. But I clotheslined myself IN THE FACE on a dumb kite string. You can't see those things! They're so fine! But it hurt my nose and jerked the string out of the hands of the kid holding the reel. I was even wearing a helmet! I will now be much more cautious around children flying kites in the street.
And speaking of things hitting me in the face while driving...
I went out last Saturday evening. It was already dark when I left, and not too far from my house, I was distracted by a man standing beside the road. Now, a man is not an uncommon sight. I mean, I live on the most densely populated island in the world. But THIS man... this man was wearing cowboy hats and boots and was blowing bubbles. A 60 YEAR OLD MAN. On the streetside! I was trying to wrap my brain around this when all of a sudden, I hit a rainstorm. But it wasn't really a rainstorm. It was a BUBBLE STORM! I was driving through a storm of bubbles, and they were hitting me in the face, popping on my cheeks!
After I made it through, I thought to myself, "It's a good thing I didn't crash. Because nobody would have believed me when I explained why."
Last week, we had Monday off of school, but Ibu Sri (my helper) came in to work. I sat around my house and chatted with her while she did all my chores (just kidding), and she told me about how just the week before, she had been cooking when a 2 foot long snake slithered out of my bedroom and into the kitchen!! That would have been the same week I found a snakeskin laying on the sidewalk in front of my house. Then yesterday, I came home from school to find a note from Ibu Sri warning me to be careful because earlier that day, she had left my house for 10 minutes and when she came back, she found a "big enough" snakeskin laying out front! So basically, there is a large snake stalking my house. That is fantastic news. If one of my cats goes missing, I guess I'll know why...
One more story - last week, I got a FIVE PAGE LETTER. From a former student! I just want to point out how awesome this is. Because how many of you ever intentionally kept in touch with your high school math teacher when you were in college? None, am I right? This is such a special place, and I have such great kids, and I am already turning into an emotional wreck at the thought of them leaving. GAH.
(Also, I would like to give a shout out to my grandma and sister who also sent me handwritten notes last week! You guys are awesome too!)
OKbye.
06 May 2014
Lost In Translation
I have this student who sometimes drives me crazy with his obsessive need to sound polite and British. Yeah, it's a strange mix. I like to play with it a little bit from time to time... Anyways, this conversation totally happened this week.
Student: Might I please visit the porcelain dispenser?
Me: That depends.
Student: On what, may I ask?
Me: What will it be dispensing?
Student: Um... er... bodily waste, I suppose you could call it.
Me: So wait. The toilet will be peeing on you?
Student: *flustered* No, um, WHAT?
(For the record, I did let him go in the end. After I made him ask to be excused to go to the bathroom.)
Student: Might I please visit the porcelain dispenser?
Me: That depends.
Student: On what, may I ask?
Me: What will it be dispensing?
Student: Um... er... bodily waste, I suppose you could call it.
Me: So wait. The toilet will be peeing on you?
Student: *flustered* No, um, WHAT?
(For the record, I did let him go in the end. After I made him ask to be excused to go to the bathroom.)
01 May 2014
I Feel the Need
I feel the need to write something. I'm not sure what to write. Almost all of my thoughts - and even dreams - lately have been tied up with transition. Finishing the school year. Going home. Doing everything I need/want to do this summer. Then coming back. And a new school year starting. It's going to be a whirlwind, and I want to be as ready for it as far ahead of time as possible.
I spent last Sunday in Jogjakarta buying gifts for everyone I could fathomably get to see in America. Like, I was there for 15 hours. But I got all my shopping done in ONE DAY. One glorious, maddening day. I just treated it like Christmas Eve. But then I got nervous about my baggage allowance and how I might not even get to take any clothes back with me if I bring all these gifts. So I put everything I bought in one heaping laundry basket and weighed it. Just under 50 pounds. I still have half my luggage left open. This is good news.
I feel like I can't get ahead at school. Our accrediting organization is doing a big official visit next school year, and there is TONS of documentation and stuff we have to have ready for that. And we waited until now to start working on it. So every time I feel like I'm ahead, 20 committee meetings get called and more gets piled on. I haven't even started thinking about finals yet, and they are less than three weeks away. WUT?
I'm also translating a book trilogy from Indonesian into English, and my goal is to have the first book finished before I leave. I also did an engagement photo shoot for a couple from my church this past weekend, so I need to sort and edit all of those pictures. There is also so much stuff that I do at my church that I need to hand off to other people for the time I'm gone.
Long distance travel is kind of like a garage sale. It seems easy in theory. Slap some prices on your junk and wait for people to come buy it. Throw your clothes in a bag and hop on the correct plane. Simple. But once you get into it, you realize there are 100 little details that sometimes aren't so little that you never considered, and trying to take care of all those details will take charge of your every waking moment until the big day, when you will wake up with a sick stomach and just pray that you did everything you needed to do because now time is up.
That is how I feel about travelling. It is obnoxious and I really hate it. But every once in awhile it is oh, so worth it. I can't wait to be home.
I spent last Sunday in Jogjakarta buying gifts for everyone I could fathomably get to see in America. Like, I was there for 15 hours. But I got all my shopping done in ONE DAY. One glorious, maddening day. I just treated it like Christmas Eve. But then I got nervous about my baggage allowance and how I might not even get to take any clothes back with me if I bring all these gifts. So I put everything I bought in one heaping laundry basket and weighed it. Just under 50 pounds. I still have half my luggage left open. This is good news.
I feel like I can't get ahead at school. Our accrediting organization is doing a big official visit next school year, and there is TONS of documentation and stuff we have to have ready for that. And we waited until now to start working on it. So every time I feel like I'm ahead, 20 committee meetings get called and more gets piled on. I haven't even started thinking about finals yet, and they are less than three weeks away. WUT?
I'm also translating a book trilogy from Indonesian into English, and my goal is to have the first book finished before I leave. I also did an engagement photo shoot for a couple from my church this past weekend, so I need to sort and edit all of those pictures. There is also so much stuff that I do at my church that I need to hand off to other people for the time I'm gone.
Long distance travel is kind of like a garage sale. It seems easy in theory. Slap some prices on your junk and wait for people to come buy it. Throw your clothes in a bag and hop on the correct plane. Simple. But once you get into it, you realize there are 100 little details that sometimes aren't so little that you never considered, and trying to take care of all those details will take charge of your every waking moment until the big day, when you will wake up with a sick stomach and just pray that you did everything you needed to do because now time is up.
That is how I feel about travelling. It is obnoxious and I really hate it. But every once in awhile it is oh, so worth it. I can't wait to be home.
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