Rose bushes and paint brushes

 Tuesday, February 2, 2022: Happy Lunar New Year

We head up the hill to the next city, where our friends have created a little slice of paradise in their backyard. They started with a flat farmer's field.

We enjoy lunch together. What a view. They care for others and have created an oasis with that in mind.

Outside their gates are fields of flowers. Rose bushes are Rp75,000 ($5.00US). That's a good deal so I choose two, a deep red and a double-petaled blush. 

W corrects me after we climb into the car; "No, the farmer said Rp7,500 (50c). What!? When we arrive home, Pak G digs them into the garden.

Thursday

I'm torn - do I walk or stay home? There's work waiting: a few monthly newsletters and other chores. My "do I walk" barometer is sleep. Good sleep? Yes.

Off we go. What an adventure today.

Traffic is backed up: a big truck loaded with 5-gallon water bottles has lost its brakes, slamming through electric poles and shopfronts. In the mountains, brake failures is not uncommon. 

One pedestrian is killed. Water bottles are strewn everywhere. A motorcyclist loaded with flowers cuts through the cars - he's got to get the stems out of the sun.

At our destination, the road and parking lot are overgrown. "Good creativity. Not much maintenance," says one walker as we arrive.

We notice the inventive use of an old tire: elevate it to a planter by putting it on a stump.

We look at the recently-installed selfie features. Hmmm. Does this enhance the experience of being in the wild? We're headed to the other side - another mountain planted with tea.

The steep dirt trails and untouched forest are being replaced with variable-height concrete steps and a clutter of warungs (mom-and-pop shops selling snacks and souvenirs).

There are still glorious stands of wildflowers.

We descend to a second waterfall on stairs cut out of soil. We ram our walking poles in and step carefully.

Partway down, we encounter a massive earthworm, 3' (1 meter) long and over an inch thick. Wow. For scale, I snap its picture beside the 5" tip of my walking stick. We first walkers pass by and wait below to see what the others will say. Sure enough, 

their exclamation: "Is that a snake or a worm!!!" is the same response we had.

It's a steep incline but the waterfalls are worth it.

W loves to take pics so he's happy to hunch down by the water with his camera.

We cross 6 bridges. 3 of them are in serious disrepair. The bamboo slats have rotted through in several places. Sometimes only the central bamboo stalk remains to put our feet on, though a shaky handrail helps us balance. 

Melvina carries Bailey (minipoo) across 2 streams. W carries Cocoa (the standard poodle) across another and comes back for Bailey. Meanwhile, Gypsy runs across and back a few times. He's fearless and sure-footed. In his 7 years of walking, he may have fallen in once or twice. So far, so good.

Micro and macro views are spectacular. Look at this moss!

The trail flows alongside the river.

This grotto would be a $30,000 installation at a hotel; here it's the wild "real thing." The fern fronds are 5-8' long.

We slither down boulders, slippery and moss-laden.

One multi-length bridge is in good condition with iffy handrails in places. The dogs trot confidently across.

We all jump when, at the end of the bridge, we have to step across a thin metal sheet laid over an irrigation reservoir. It snaps underfoot with a loud crunch. Everyone hops off quickly, back onto the trail. It snaps back to catch the next walker off guard.

In the final stretch, Dutch irrigation canals, walls, and curbs prevail. Bailey, running confidently along the mossy wall, slips into the canal below. He backtracks in the shallow stream as I call encouragement to him. "This way, c'mon boy!"

W climbs over the wall and onto some rocks to snag B's collar. My heart almost stops; luckily he fell into shallow, slow-moving water. And that there were nearby rocks (rare) for W to reach from.

Ever curious, I open an unlocked door. Inside are Dutch locks and machinery to control the water flow.

It's still sturdy and functional, 70 years after the Dutch have left the country.

We pull cheap ponchos over our heads as rain begins to pour on us. The canal fills up. Makes me even happier that Bailey's ok. He hops back on the wall; the trails are saturated muck. The big dogs run through. The rest of us navigate the narrow ledge, slip across plastic irrigation pipes, or step side to side if there's grass beside the deep mud. Everyone is fine at the end.

We are wet. Muddy. Fine. The dogs are leashed as we trek through a village to the pickup point.  They erupt in an uproar of growls and barking as two kampung dogs snarl from behind slatted fences.

On the way to lunch, this gas station catches our eyes, a small peninsula at the side of the street with 2 pumps. Beside it are racks of pop bottles filled with gasoline, used to top up motorcycles.

Lunch at Lidah Sapi Restaurant is delicious. The table surface is wood, scratched away by multiple customers. It looks like an abstract painting.

We distance but order food to share.

Friday

I want to check "the nook mural" off my list before leaving home this morning. Months ago, I slathered acrylic paint on a 86"X52" (2.5 X 1.5m) plaster wall with a household sponge. Then I drew outlines of leaves and trunks with a fat Sharpie marker. I found A 2" hardware brush to stroke on more paint. The plaster sucked in the moisture. Drips ran everywhere and had to be wiped off. No worries.

And there it's sat for months.

This morning, my goal is to create a focal point and cohesion. I pull out the same Golden paints: 2 blues, 2 yellows, and a tube of Alizarin red. They combine into browns and greens. #GoldenAcrylics are my favorite brand because of their intense color and hue. These were samples from the Golden rep at #DanielSmith store in Seattle. (Sadly, the store closed last year and is online only.)

The mural looks like this before I start.

With marker outlines and paint, it begins to makes sense to my eyes. I say, "enough" at that point. Meanwhile W is repairing the brace to hang shelves on top of it.

Angela comes by after 8 to walk the neighborhood with me. We spot exotic chickens near the garbage dump.

In the park, school children sit with their teachers, chanting verses and doing physical exercises.

In a courtyard below the street, Angela spots a painted wall mural behind a motorcycle. Tall concrete brick walls define property lines. Houses are often built right to the wall without easements. Plastered over, the walls are fair game for graffiti or art.

Another neighbor has created a wooden windblock and privacy screen on their upper balcony.

This week, friends, their coworkers, and their families (in the USA and Bandung) test positive for Omicron and other Covid variants. At this point, we're not wondering "from where" you'll get it, but "when." We decide against spreading it at BIC.

With input from trusted leaders, we revert to BICOnline and close BIC in person for the month of February. It's a blow; we just re-opened at Advent.

Read more:

*Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge. Psalm 46:1

*Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob, all the remnant of the people of Israel, you whom I have upheld since your birth, and have carried since you were born. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you. Isaiah 46:3-4

*From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. John 1:16

Moravian Prayer: Gracious God, we thank you for life. We may feel alone, frightened or lost at times, but we know of your presence. Your grace and mercy follow us all the days of our lives. Amen.