A pretty weekend and a quiet start to the week

Saturday, January 27, 2024

It's a quiet day. Many Saturdays, W's self-care is exploring Bandung. He likes being among people, riding the angkot busses, studying scripture over lunch with friends, and walking miles.

In contrast, my Sabbath is staying home with no schedule but my own. No helpers to assign chores. No one expecting meals at a certain time. No one asking questions. I usually read, rest, and do something creative - and I write. (I always write.)

The wind picks up as the weather changes: the Bali beachgrass chimes sing cheerfully as the breeze sweeps across the mountain slopes. Gypsy tries all the door handles to see if he can sneak inside, away from the storm. If he can, we find him under the back staircase, in our shower, or under a desk. It's like he read and adapted an earthquake safety manual.

Today, I'm flashing hot and cold as Covid begins to relinquish its grip. At noon, my appetite is coming back. I enjoy the pho W ordered yesterday. The broth soothes the throat. I taste the salt and not much else yet.

Lunch generates enough brain power to edit an academic paper for W. Then I walks around the yard to make sure all is ready for tomorrow's Hangout. The tropical fish snap up the food pellets tossed into the ponds (repurposed antique flowerpots.)

With daily rainfall, the plants rocket upwards. It's a gardener's Eden during this season, when hot sunshine also peeks through the clouds nearly every day. The flowering papaya tree is ready for picking.

There's a burst of color: pinks, purples, and yellows edge the Porch.

Across the lawn, 8'/2.5m -tall yellow blooms climb toward the sun. They self-seed among the false bird-of-paradise, roses, and herbs.

In contrast, these delicate white flowers peek through the coleus. I use their tiny pops of white in lieu of baby's breath in arrangements.

Even the aquarium plants are going wild in the humidity. (Scale: the glass is 15" tall.)

The ants aren't shy about working either. Their mounds look like poop all across the lawn. We let the rain beat the soil back down.

You know who has the gift of care when you receive a basket like this. Thanks, Sayaka and family. I manage a delicious pear with yogurt for supper.

Night descends quietly on the Porch at 6:00 - sundown.

Sunday

And before you know it, the sun's up again. Soft light bathes the reading nook. How I'd like to be with the IES Bandung family. Not today. My chair is ready to watch the Gathering online.

First, I make one last round of the yard and clip a few flowers. Today was my turn to arrange hall flowers so I sent a silk/dry grass arrangement ahead of time. This bouquet is for the house: after being inside most of the week, I need some color. The cuttings are submerged to hydrate and drown caterpillars and ants. The bouquet starts to find its shape with green coleus.

The yellows still look wilted when I place the arrangement in the entry, but the leaves and flower heads will revive within the hour as they drink and settle in.

Living things are amazing! I give it a quick turn to put the perked-up fronds on the side rather than front and center.

How odd to watch the Gathering online. Don't get me wrong: I am grateful for technology. However, it's not the same as meeting in person. You can't shake hands with those who are grateful for the week's blessings or hug those who need prayer. Sometimes they are the same people.

The congregation prays over Martin, joining the team at IES Bandung with the unique calling God has put on his heart. He reads the scriptures this morning.

We pray over Rob and Wina who have served with us since they landed in Bandung a year ago. What a help they have been to us. They now transition to full-time work in a global organization. We'll miss them! and their cheerful attitudes.

The Hangout crowd meets on the Porch for the first time this year. What a treat to hear their muffled conversation and laughter from my perch inside.

Their lunch is the same as ours: Hanemum takeaway: Korean-ish deep-fried sesame chicken and rice. I peel off as much of the fried coating as I can, manage some rice, and feel sleepy.

As I age, my tastebuds are becoming more and more like Dad's were. A 'little sweet' after a meal feels like a necessity rather than an option. A thoughtful soul sends this treat home with W. Perfect. He takes a few mango slices before handing me the packet. I LOVE Philipino dried mangoes, the sweetest in the world. (Perhaps it helps that mangoes are my favorite fruit.)

By late afternoon, the Porch is empty. Various windchimes swing in the breeze. Branches lift and dip. I've been drawn to plants since I was a toddler, says Mom. Here, the leaves - from the 6'/2m elephant ear plants to tiny spiky leaves on a shrub, would be enough to fascinate me. (Flowers are bonuses.)

The spindly Benjamina potted plant that kept dropping its leaves on the Porch? In 4 years since its transplant into the garden, it has swelled into a huge tree. We planted it 6'/2m from the wall so its roots wouldn't disturb the wall. I'm not sure that was far enough. 

"Why did you plant that in a garden?" our friends ask. Because it's ubiquitous in indoor public spaces in Seattle? Keeping one alive there made me happy? I can't remember. It was miserable in its pot.

In our Bandung garden, we hack trees back when they're wide enough to shade the flowerbeds underneath. We prune when branches begins to hang over the 10' green wall into the neighbor's yard or get tall enough to shade the neighbor's patch, since they love to garden. It's time to do that again! 

(In Seattle, our former neighbor got angry and maliciously planted a tall hedge to block the view and only southern exposure on our acre. The fruit trees we espaliered against the southern wall of the house never bear fruit in the shade. So we have sympathy for those living beside us now.)

For a few weeks, there's been a lot of banging going on next door. We hear the crashing of hammers from their other side of the shared wall. Today drills or sanders are whirring. Last week, our neighbors tolerated our handymen repairing the gutters, too. So we can't complain.

The tropics are hard on houses. Like our old house, theirs must need a major fix every few months. Everyone's up before sunrise in this neighborhood of mostly old people. We allow no construction noise before 7:00 a.m. but based on the enthusiasm coming our way shortly after 6:00 some days, it depends on when one's work crew arrives. We're mutually relieved when repairs are completed.

Monday

Misery of cold sweats, so I rest. No work. I venture outside to feed the fish and admire the vine torn off a neighbor's overhanging greenery a year or two ago. It has finally bloomed in a 8" pot on the driveway curb.

Tuesday

I eat a big spoon of overnight oats on a chopped apple and am not hungry until supper. Enough fooling around. The usual to-do list has grown too long to ignore. 2 calls. 2 newsletters to write. Student papers to grade. A team meeting to lead. Nap. Show the yardman which trees need severe cutting back. Check on a friend. Pass along a to-do for hall display.

We're saying our team farewell to Rob and Wina, who have blessed us and many others the past year.

For supper, W orders pho - beef soup with vermicelli. That's enough. The evening Covid test makes me happy: the "positive" line is very faint. Almost there! And my checklist is finished, along with a slew of messages flying in and out. The clouds roll in as night approaches.

Read more:

*God said to Solomon, “Because you have not asked for yourself long life or riches or for the life of your enemies but have asked for yourself understanding to discern what is right, I now do according to your word.” 1 Kings 3:11-12

*Paul wrote: Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2

Moravian Prayer: Does it humor you, our patient God, when we think we know it all, only to realize we don’t know as much as we thought? Help us to recognize the limits of our knowledge and abilities, and trust your wisdom. Amen.

Not again! a third round of Covid, and a global classroom

Saturday, January 20, 2024

"The third week of Ordinary Time," says the Jesuit reader on the daily devotional. What? We're in the third week of the year already?

It's my sabbath day, when I don't work and don't grade papers. How kind God is, to give a day off to his people! Some random person wanders over to our porch. 

"What are you doing?" I ask her.

"Playing with the dogs," she says, coming up on our porch before following the dogs onto the steps. I can't imagine wandering into the neighbor's property and making myself comfortable by their house without permission. I shoo her back to her friend's place.

Is that a horse coming through in our neighborhood? Hmmm. New route? along with motorcycles and cars and more.

Sunday

We're saying hello and goodbye at IES Bandung this morning. Our new team members include Daniel, Martin, and Hanny. We pray over them together.

Then come some farewells: Ana, Josh, and Clau are wrapping up their leadership roles. Josh and Clau worked on our teams for 7 years. They stepped away in November but today is the first time they attend a Gathering together. What a special time.

Afterward, we take group photos. How we love this bunch!

I address the worship team after the Gathering at their New Year's catchup. We pray for God's blessings on them.

After lunch together, Clau and Kat send home some goodies. I indulge with their face mask in the afternoon.

Monday

The birthday grandchild is articulate and happy to tell us about her celebration. It's hard to be so far from grandkids but Zoom helps us catch up on how much fun it was. And what we missed.

On our walks this week, everything seems to glow in orange, from the 6' tall false birds-of-paradise border,

to this glorious 8' tall hedge, which blooms several times a year. Must be exhausting for the plant - or it has found its perfect spot.

This 1' (30cm) flower tops the neighbor's shrub. It looks like a fully-lit Christmas tree to me, especially if it blooms in December.

And at Bumi Sangkuriang, the trumpet vines are dripping with flowers.

At the children's playground, someone has raked leaves and garbage into a corner.

Nara Park has a bench perched over its waterfall - very pretty.

One of their three owls winds its leash around the tree and hisses at us as we come closer.

They are quite happy to be carted into the sunshine early in the morning.

I always plan to order something new but the Mie Rica (hot spicy noodles) are so delicious I can't resist them. I save my mouth by putting small portions of sambal (spicy sauce) on my chopsticks and wrapping the noodles around them. So good.

Tuesday

I'm deciding how this painting is evolving. Many artists put down "any color" or "any layer" to cover a blank canvas and make it less intimidating. I tend to splash around for a few minutes, wait for a few weeks or months, and then evaluate the direction the painting wants to go. This one first suggests orange beach umbrellas and shade. Ha - not likely. I don't have the skill to execute that.

We peer through the fence of a friend's property down the street. This is what happens in Bandung when ground is left to itself. Within a short while, the jungle takes over.

I am on a cleaning splurge. When we have shifts and transitions, I moving things around the house, too. My office is cluttered and needs a purge. I make a stack to give away. These woven takeaway boxes are nice storage containers. Want some?

Wednesday

I'm so sick that we do a Covid test. The minute the elements come together, it's positive. 

"It may be a fluke. It's an expired test," W says. 

I've lost my taste and smell and my teeth ache all the way into my head. Cough cough. Since I have no appetite, I skip lunch for the second day in a row. This is typical: meat, rice, vegetables, and a salad. W and the others in the house dig in.

Two handymen are repairing the roof and gutters this week. Hopefully their work will cut off the water streaming into the back rooms during rainfalls.

In the afternoon, we get shocking news that a treasured friend is in critical care in hospital. Neither of us can visit with Covid in the house. We pray from home.

Thursday

I've contracted to teach so I have to work. This is the second week of 3 days (W-F), 4 hours a day. The class is online, with a mix of native and non-native English speakers. Students range from beginners in undergrad to advanced Singaporeans in a master program, in one classroom.

It's quite the puzzle to get everyone on the same page with limited power in some countries and limited or spotty internet in others. Today we focus on student exercises to see what they're retaining.

Our neighbors are watching the durian ripen on our tree. Almost a dozen will land outside our gate - the fruit is not ripe until it falls and it's fair game to pick up fruit that falls in public spaces if you see it before the owner.

"You have a durian tree?!" exclaim friends who know the stinky and tasty fruit. It's very expensive since it requires a certain kind of soil to thrive. We'll find out if it's a good or cheap type soon.

We didn't know we had a durian tree until the yard man pruned the tree growing into our eaves. After he cut it back, it had one fruit and then did nothing for 3 years. This year? Much fruit. The principle of pruning, waiting patiently, and then harvesting seems true for much of life.

"Hati-hati (look out)!" says PakG as I walk under the tree. Apparently durian can be deadly or cause severe injury if a heavy ball with its sharp spines drops on you. There are at least a dozen ripening over our driveway and yard. Everyone is waiting for the moment they fall ... 

We walk to Kalpa Tree again for supper. The view is splendid from our table but I have no appetite. W helps me eat the tasteless order. ("It tastes as good as always," he says.) And he polishes off his deep-fried pizza as well. Fat on fat - I can't even look at his plate. Oh well - he walked this morning while I rested.

Friday

The morning sunshine streams into the room. I love early hours - this is around 6:15 a.m. I have two meetings online before the day gets underway.

W and I update our health with new tests. Me: instant positive. W: negative. Today's the hardest day. He kindly changes the fish water on the porch while I lean a twisted branch inside a 30" (80cm) cylinder. It's topped with dried garden grasses and copper-colored silks. W takes these Sunday's flowers to the hall so I don't have to think about them again.

One more day of class before a break to rest. Last week we studied research and choosing topics. This week was selecting valid questions, organizing information, and recording citations. We close with formatting papers using the school's template.

It takes a while to get things "just right" in our student exercises. Yes, it actually matters if you have a . or a : and if you have a ), or a ): in the footnote or bibliography. I caution them not to write their papers last-minute. They will need 1-2 weeks to edit the paper they submit. I'll be strict about their submissions.

When class is over, I have just enough energy to redo Titik's creation. Her gorgeous Sunday bouquet is fading.

Enough flowers remain for 2 small arrangements. I poke two snapdragon stems into a candleholder with gardenias plucked from beside the porch. Simple elegance and a sweet smell.

The rest goes into a metal pail on the front table: goldenrod, asters, and tiny carnations.

In the evening, after glowing for over a week on one battery charge, the fake wax candles are still lit. We're waiting to see how long it takes for them to dim. 

Good night everyone. Pray for our friend and the family as you sleep, would you?

Read more:

*For your name’s sake, O Lord, pardon my guilt, for it is great. Psalm 25:11

*Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense; he has become my salvation.” 

With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. In that day you will say: “Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done, and proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing to the Lord, for he has done glorious things; let this be known to all the world. Isaiah 12:2-5

*When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Child, your sins are forgiven.” Mark 2:5

Moravian Prayer: Forgiving God, asking for forgiveness can be hard. We feel so guilty. We are embarrassed by our failures and our disrespect. But before we can ask, you have already forgiven us. Help us now to forgive ourselves. Amen.