Monday, May 16, 2022
Monday seems to be the day to reflect on the past week. I write to remember. Sometimes when I read back, it's astonishing at how much I've left behind and how much goes into the day.
This week ...
The bananas get old in a fridge still not repaired (5 weeks, no thanks to LG's warranty). So IbuA makes banana bread. Yummy.
There's is a frog migration overnight: several kodok kodok have not made it across the neighborhood streets. (Say something twice to make it plural.)
On the more pleasant side, we keep immersing the drooping roses of last week's bouquet up to their necks in water overnight. The shorter stems fit all the way under, flowers included. Most will revive for another day. They last a whole week. I'm surprised; I've tossed roses when their heads drop. Now I'm going to revive them a few times first.
Tuesday
Among many things on the calendar, this one is always a favorite: Tuesday morning team meeting. Does anyone have better people to work with? (I doubt it!) Love each one.
We go to language school and in the afternoon, friends send over books from years of reading and teaching. The language school gratefully takes them and passes them among their teachers.
Wednesday
The book group reading this month is a curious choice: a book about conversion to Islam and the "rogue saints" venerated in Java. (That's the book title not my wording). I thought religious books were off the table, along with cookbooks.
Apparently not. I'm interested in the POV both of the book group and the author - will be an interesting discussion. In the early chapters, Islam is explained as a journey, much like Jesus said he was the WAY. ("I am the way, the truth, and the life." John 14:6)
According to the book, if you say the Islamic formula sentence, you're "in" as a Muslim. You're expected to learn your obligations and duties as you are mentored within the Muslim community.
What a great contrast to the faith of Christians, where God himself through Jesus has paid the debt we owe to God. He has forgiven us and set us free from sin and obligation. Following him results in good works done out of gratitude rather than duty, as is common in other religions.
The book examines the spread of Islam in Indonesia, Muslim religious history, tradition, and current practices. Perhaps I shall offer Eternity in their Hearts as a similar book choice about the Christian spread, history, and practices in Papua in the future. Read it, if you've missed it to date!
Thursday
Yay, the weather is cool and overcast as we start the walk in the mountains. The trails are wet and slick from overnight showers. The trail is obvious when we start out. Several (including W and I) fall into the puddles that can't be entirely avoided or wipe out in the shifting clay. Our walking sticks help keep us upright, another set of feet to lean on.
Fields of pink impatiens glow under the tall pines.
"Feather" flowers are blooming on the shrubs.
This toppled pine log is scarred by cuts from resin collection.
Things age quickly - fungus, lichens, mold, and moss overtake anything left unwashed or untended.
The stunning arrays of colors are easy to bypass and overlook.
PakG tells us that the fragrant roots of this weed are used to pep up lagging energy on the trails. The roots smell minty and acerbic.
A set of shepherd's crooks is standing by the side. Marie's dad poses with one.
When the rain starts, we grab our plastic ponchos from our hiking packs. Soon we're splashing through the water that courses down the path in fast-running streams. We give up wedging ourselves on the tiny banks. Our shoes and socks are full of water and anything exposed is soaked, as the rain cools our hike. Many just walk right down the stream.
We take an involuntary detour: W's clearly marked the trail on his phone. When it gets as wet as he is, though the phone itself is fine, it stops receiving data. No GPS. So we take a chance at a 4-way intersection to find the way back. The trail deteriorates to overgrown as we hike uphill.
Hearing shrieks from the walkers ahead, we all check ourselves for leeches. I pick off 9 and stop counting. They are quick, moving like inchworms to get under our clothing. We pull them off and toss them. We have to climb over branches set as a barrier at the upper coffee and vegetable farms.
No one is in sight. There's no way out so we plunge back into the forest, pushing our walking sticks into the deep compost and muck of the steep slopes. We skitter and slide back down to approximately where we started.
We try another path. Everyone's a good sport so it's a fun adventure - we're free of leeches but bleeding where they put the anticoagulant through our skin. We slosh the last kilometers to the parking lot. Thunder rumbles overhead between the mountains.
Stripping off our shoes and socks at the car, we push our toes into the flip-flops we bring "just in case" we're a muddy mess. Today we're wet through, muddy, and a bit bloody.
After 4 hours in the jungle, most walkers have to head for home. It’s later than usual. Some have meetings in the afternoon. Our lone carload heads for the restaurant we were all going to try. We're shivering, wet to the skin. Gradually we start to dry in the afternoon wind that blows through the dining area.
W's noodles are excellent.
So is the dim sum and my Rawon soup. (Candlenuts with beef broth and potatoes.) Melvi helps polish off the meal - we pass the things we can't eat to her. It's fun to share.
Kristi orders scrambled eggs, which come barely warm and the consistency of canned creamed corn, with a white sauce on top. None of us can stomach it. The server brings a casava pudding instead.
When we get home, we shower to warm up. I slather the leech-bites with cream and slap a bandage over each. Ugly but practical. The next few days, if I accidentally scratch the bites, the bleeding starts all over. Effective little critters.
Friday
On the morning walk, we spot this 1x1 meter (3x3-foot) target by the street at the neighborhood dump. After bargaining with the guys at the dump, PakG hauls it home for $3.70 (50.000 IDR) and washes it down. I know just the place for it to tell its story.
Upstairs, this newspaper wreath has been with us for over 7 years. Our first Christmas in Indonesia, I made the monstrous circle with newspapers in every language I could find. The wreath's theme is "Jesus, God's love for every tribe and nation." It was our sole Christmas decoration that year. (We refused to spend $400 on a tree before Christmas; we waited for an 80% discount after.)
The wreath has yellowed and faded. While it's still cool, it's time for a new look. Mostly, it grosses me out: who knows what lurks in those old tubes of newspaper! (Ugh)
Our Unit 1 comprehensive language test is today. Kristi and I both squeeze through to Unit 2, starting on Monday.
Saturday
Leaves here can be huge. I pluck one that' about 19" (50 cm) long from the vine beside the porch and plop it in a vase. That, along with picture books atop a broken ceramic tile, becomes this week's coffee table vignette.
The neighbor's bulbs glow white during the afternoon rains.
Ruth sends 20 roses late at night. they start to unfold in the cylinder. It’s the simplest bouquet ever for BIC on Sunday morning.
Sunday
Kirsti and her help do a great job with the kids. Thanks to the Kids Clubs in the USA who donated the funds for beanbags and other supplies at BIC.
The roses continue to open.
This fascinates me: look at the scale of Indonesia's 17,000 islands, overlaid on the USA map!
I send back a dean's request for suggestions on revisions to a prospectus for student doctoral projects. There's always writing and editing. This one takes only an hour but I can't delay or it will fall off my to-do list. Check. Suggestions made and sent.
Kristi and I must listen to the Unit 2 intro video to prep us for language learning tomorrow. We'll be speaking more in Unit 2.
In the late afternoon, I record 4 videos to be posted in June. Anything I can do in advance, I'll do gladly. Each day is full enough without having to check the schedule for more.
Monday
After 3 online meetings and breakfast, Kristi and I have 2.5 hours of Zoom class. We think it's fun to describe what we see in the children's picture book.
The teacher explains, "You only get up to 10 new words per day." I write down everything not solid in my head.
"Hey, at this rate, we'll be 10 words short each week," Kristi notes. She will negotiate tomorrow for 12-13 words/day since, instead of 5 days a week, we have class 4 days. An extra half-hour is tacked onto each class to make up the missing day.
Then a telephone call for prayers, a visit from friends to exchange foods, and a few hours of writing. W and I also go through the format and info for next Sunday's Round Table discussions at BIC.
I make soba noodles for supper. Suddenly, it's evening. Zzzzz.
Read more:
*Sing aloud to God our strength. Psalm 81:1*As servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything. 2 Corinthians 6:4,10
Moravian Prayer: Almighty God, when we walk through life’s hills and valleys, keep our eyes fixed on you and on your word. We can see your might and power when overcoming difficulties through your love and support. Amen.
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