A little R&R for W&R

Thursday, December 26, 2024 to Saturday

W and I are barely functional after a very arduous Christmas month. Our last big event is over. IbuS comes to do a deep clean on the house.

W decides we have to leave home for a break. I'm delighted. In our 10.5 years here, we've done one other staycation, in a hotel on the next mountain. This time we go all the way into the city. Bandung is noisy, polluted, and crowded with continual traffic jams of honking, smoking buses, cars, horse carts, and thousands of motorcycles. We ride downhill into Bandung before lunch for our 2-night "city-cation" escape.

At the historic Savoy Hotel down the street, I take a bath a day. A tub was part of the criteria by which W chose the hotel, along with good ratings and great prices, of course. For a few days, we walk and explore our city. We eat at restaurants we like, including #Hutanika, a new oasis of calm and planted courtyards two blocks from the hotel. What a good break from regular life.

We have a classic hotel room with beautiful art deco touches. It's clean but could use some maintenance: the bathroom door is missing the lock. The air con rattles at high volume during the night. (We turn it off.) We have to pay for extra towels and have to ask for hand towels. W pays a refundable deposit on a second key for me.

Friday morning we follow the foodies' advice to the "best bubur" (rice porridge) breakfast. The little food cart is on the sidewalk of a sister restaurant to one of our favorites on our hill: Ethnic Resto. There's a lineup at the cart and another lineup of people eating on the curb bench. We stand for a while before we realize that going inside the restaurant will get us faster service.

It's been in business a long time. Pictures of historical Bandung hang on the walls.

We love the mix of dried onions, chicken, sesame oil, and parsley, with hot sauce on the side.

We come at the right time. By the time we leave, there's a long line of hungry clients waiting to get inside and the cart lineup is much longer.

Through Saturday, we walk a lot. W trips off a curb and falls onto his finger. Ouch, though it's almost better by week's end.

We see few Caucasians (5? 10?) despite the crowds. The demographics of this formerly international city have shifted. A decade ago, foreigners - working or tourists - were abundant. They came from all over SE Asia, as well as from Australia, Europe, and North America. Now, life and attractions are geared for locals.

During COVID, the government closed the local airport to public use and reserved it for the military. A brand new airport was opened 1/2- to 2-hours from the city. Few foreign tourists bother to come because the new airport has almost no international flights. Those flights are often cancelled or delayed if the planes don't fill up. There is much easier travel access going elsewhere.

Hoards of Jakartans drive to Bandung on weekends but the Malaysians, Dutch, and others are gone. Their money flows into other destinations so the city is less prosperous. That attrition has reduced the middle class by cutting thousands of jobs that depended on tourism and accessible business travel. With few middle-income jobs, skilled workers and university graduates migrate from Bandung to Jakarta or other places.

Most expats have relocated to a neighboring city as well. Besides having a fast-train into Jakarta (1/2 hour instead of a 3-hour drive), KBP has a good international school, curbed streets (straight! not built around tree roots), and feels like an old American suburb. It reminds us of Vancouver's shift into self-segregated suburbs: the Indians moved to Surrey and the Chinese moved to Richmond. A drawback is that KBP is 3o-5oC hotter. Most foreigners' homes need air-con, unlike on our hill where the mountain winds bring more temperate weather.

Downtown Bandung? Swarms of locals hang around, chatting, shopping, and eating snacks around the central mosque. Some people smile and are friendly. Others? not so much. That's a change, too. Regular chants are piped from loudspeakers in the twin towers of the mosque.

In our wanderings, we step inside an electronics shop where we picked up gifts for our Christmas Day exchange. We buy a leftover-warmer but the cashier refuses to check that it works. W plugs it in next to our lunch table. It burns out immediately. Nothing is returnable so that's $3 wasted.

Lunch is at a Vietnamese restaurant.

Spring rolls are one of my favorite foods but I've never combined one with peanut butter and jam before. Usually they come with a side of peanut sauce.

I take a picture from the top of the stairs at the second storey. The risers are 12"/30cm tall. And each step is short: 10"/25cm or less. It's worth touching the railing as we descend.

At the hotel, we cash in our vouchers for tea at the Sidewalk Cafe. We order a lava cake to share. The chocolate is not quite warm and the ice cream is a Mini-Magnum ice cream bar. Oh well.

Saturday, we have one final meal - brunch - at Hutanika. We often eat at Nara, a few blocks from our house. This is its 'new sister' eatery downtown. Off the busy street, you step into quiet courtyards surrounded by tropical foliage. It's like arriving at a resort miles away from the car-to-car traffic on the other side of the wall.

I enjoy the chicken tortellini.

We check out at noon Saturday, catch a Grab taxi up the hill, and enter the narrow tree-covered streets of our neighborhood. What a contrast this is to the crowded city center, where gritty ruins-on-ruins and buildings-on-buildings are memorials of Dutch colonial rule. The buildings are well-constructed but few old government and trade buildings have been maintained. Plants have seeded in the cracks in walls and on their roofs. Plaster and carvings are crumbling away in the tropical heat.

We enter our yard with relief, greeted loudly by our dogs and marveling at the garden filled with flowers. A few blocks away, an influencer has tigers, bearcats, ostriches and more exotic animals. Read about him here. Our creatures are tamer.

We wash a few items from the kitchen wholesaler and heat up Thursday's leftovers for a late lunch. We're unpacked by 2 PM and spend the day preparing for Sunday and catching up on messages and reading.

I pirate last week's flower arrangement for 12 simple Round Table bouquets: cypress, pine, and red berries.

The leftover plants make 2 sweet little bouquets for the coffee table.

Sunday

We're back to the routines, this last Sunday of 2024. The word I chose for 2024 year was "Transition" There have been many of those. After prayer and contemplation, I choose the word "Hope" for 2025. Let's see how God works that out.

At the hall, we sit around tables to ask each other: "What has God done this year in your life?" Many people have spent the year trying to recover "life before COVID," with limited success. We choose a year-end verse from the center of the table. Then we share what that scripture speaks to us. Happy asks if we can take a selfie in front of the bulletin board. Sure. Meanwhile, Daniel and Martin take the hall apart, moving tables back and deconstructing the Christmas decorations.

Rocky and his family hand over a package of delicious ribs, which make a fine lunch.

I have some new "floaters" in my eyes. W suggests that we walk to the nearest pharmacy for medicine that made the last batch disappear (be reabsorbed). A vine along the street flowers with flame lookalikes.

As usual, W edits and uploads the recording from the morning Gathering, posting it to YouTube before unwinding and relaxing.

Read more:

*Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward them for what they have done. Proverbs 19:17

Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. Luke 6:38

Moravian Prayer: Generous God, you have blessed us beyond measure, and you call us to be a blessing. May we consider what more we can share, what more we can offer to be of service to you. Amen.

Tea parties and cookies galore

Tuesday, December 17, 2024

A week from today is Christmas. The house smells of baking. Today the helpers make dough for another 1500 cookies and baking starts. The rest of the dough goes in the fridge for tomorrow and Thursday.

Mid-afternoon, the book group arrives for tea. It's relaxing to set out china and serving pieces brought from our life in Seattle. There's little chance to use it here since meals and events tend to be informal. I figure the women won't judge me for using good dishes and cloth napkins.

What You Are Looking For is in the Library is this month's book, a pleasant series of life-changing encounters with a librarian and books. It's a delight to discuss how each month's assignment affects group members. We have different personalities and backgrounds, which makes sitting around the table even more interesting.

They leave as W and Melvi come back from a birthday party at 6 PM. Food is put away and dishes are done within an hour. Whereupon I fall into bed with a book ...

Wednesday

W and I eat leftovers and drink hot chocolate for breakfast before calling our moms.

The Mastermind group, meeting online from around the world, gives me good counsel (guten Rat.) I follow up their advice immediately. What a relief to have trusted backup voices affirming what I know = some projects don't belong on my plate. Twisting myself into others' timelines for volunteer work is a wasted effort; neither the work nor the satisfaction are good.

Baking day. The house smells of peanut butter cookies and melted chocolate, spread on ginger cookies while the butter comes to room temperature.

IbuS and I work together though the bulk of the work is hers. I shove ChaChas (Indonesian M&Ms) into the tops of the cookies and put them onto cooling racks. They're stored in whatever we find - bread savers, cake domes turned upside down, and plastic boxes. Between, IbuS makes lunch: marinated tofu, egg sandwiches from yesterday, rice, and veggies. Pretty good.

Innumerable cups of tea get me through the day. A surprising hit yesterday was the Twinings Gingerbread Joy tea, a variation on chai flavors.

Thursday

Due to slippery conditions, rain, and Christmas proximity, the mountain hike is cancelled. Group members wish each other Merry Christmas or Happy Christmas, depending on the country of origin.

Instead of a hike, W and I walk along the river to Dalaraos for Sunda food. It's mid-morning as we eat but we wander up the hill before catching an angkot (taxi bus) partway up to our intersection.

The string needed to close our cookie bags is nowhere in sight, said an admin. Since hearing that, we've tried to find colored string in several shops, including this stationer.

From the outside, the stationary shop looks like a dark hole with graffiti sprayed on its corrugated walls. When you move to a new location, you get used to a different storefronts as well as sorting out what's available inside.

The beloved (or hated) durian fruit is ripe next door at the new fruit shop. Each spiny oval is 10-15" (25-35cm). The rack might be outside the shop, but you can smell the fruit from inside and from the street.

When we get home at 11 AM, IbuS and IbuA are baking and chatting. I remind IbuA that she needs to finish the chocolate dough for 1200 cookies today. She whips up 7 or 8 double-batches and bags them. In the last month, we've gone through at least 12-15 kg of butter, bags of flour, and more sugar than I could track.

While the mixer whirs, IbuS bakes cookie sheet after sheet in several ovens. The timers ding ding ding all day. I lift the cookies off the sheets onto cooling racks and put them away. The last batch is baked before they go home. The full bins and boxes are stowed in tubs, along with about 2500 other cookies, made over the last few weeks. Tomorrow we package!

Friday

W and I drop into the hall to check where the string is to close the bags. We've been told they're not at the hall so we ransacked our house, to no avail. This morning on the way home from the walk, we pop into the IES storage basement to root through all the bins. We check various rooms at the hall. Nada.

Before we go home in defeat, I decide on another look in the kids-classrooms. On the shelf is the colored string we've wasted time trying to find. It is in plain sight. We take it home and I cut the string before anyone arrives.

When everyone shows up, the assembly line starts on the first batch of 140 bags. IbuA has agreed to work an extra day and Alice helps us get this DONE. It's one task per person until you have capacity to help someone else. Then you hop over and help others catch up.

• open the bag and put in 2 kinds of cookies - IbuS
• put in a specialty (frosted) cookie and 2 more kinds of cookies - IbuA
• pull the string through a label
• close the bag with a bow and put it into the "finished" tub - Alice and I.

It's efficient and we finish the first run in record time. The second (120 X5 cookies) is packaged before the second batch of labels arrive. when they do, we add the labels onto the strings and tuck those away. The third run (+100 X4 cookies) goes even faster.

We've made 370 bags before 11 AM. The helpers wash the emptied storage boxes and the floor, make lunch for themselves and PakG, and leave for home by noon. They take the cookie discards for their families to enjoy.

SO... MANY... cookies.

W and I walk to Miss Bee to get away from the smell of baking. These flowers are worth a second look.

The shapes and colors are exotic.

Dead seed pods, split open by their fall from the trees above, look festive.

I order linguine, so rich that I can eat only half. W enjoys his fish and chips.

After work, we head to Robin's for supper. His home is an artist's showcase, with prototypes of his furniture and artwork. I like these end tables, designed for ships on a cruise line.

He shows us his grandma's recipe for Rösti, a Swiss method of preparing grated potatoes. 

And I learn how to make chopped chicken the German way. It's a taste of home at Christmas time, which is comfort to a soul far away from family.

Saturday

Fresh baking arrives from Dr I. W and I enjoy one each for breakfast and a second for lunch, along with yesterday's pasta leftovers.

After a massage to unkink my back, W and I head to the hall where the worship team is rehearsing. Back by noon, there's time to write the talk for the final Sunday of the year.

It's a 3-book Saturday. Before our walk, I finish a novel Her Sanctuary about the witness protection program. Managing Leadership Anxiety has come highly recommended by several trusted leaders. I listen to the audiobook while my body is being pummeled.

The final book is Still Alice, the story of early-onset Alzheimer's. My closest cousin died of that 4 years ago; how little I knew of her struggle and her family's loss, even when she tried to explain how her memory was failing. All three books are the kind I like to learn from: well-written and engaging.

The groomers arrive to clip poodle hair in time for Christmas. Our friend's little dog joins the pack while they're gone overnight. I wonder what our family and friends are doing this weekend. Feels like they are very far away ...

Read more:

*For justice will return to the righteous, and all the upright in heart will follow it. Psalm 94:15

*A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit..The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him—the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord—and he will delight in the fear of the Lord.

He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes, or decide by what he hears with his ears; but with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked. Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist. Isaiah 11:1-5

*Jesus said, “And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them.” Luke 18:7-8

Moravian Prayer: Gracious God, we long for restoration on our own schedule, but we know your time is not our time. We have no doubt that you have heard our cries and will answer them. We thank you for your faithfulness. Amen.

Missing my dad's voice

Saturday, December 14, 2024

4 years ago from yesterday, my dad died. I miss him more this year than ever. I want to run ideas past him, hug his barrel chest, and hear his curt snap-back with an answer to any question we had. He was a quick and instinctive thinker who said what he thought without filtering words in case someone wanted to take offense. What a relief it was to call him for an honest opinion!

I miss his integrity. He warned me most often to be myself - to be the best self that God designed. He told me to ignore gossip and small thinking. He sure loved his family and his grandkids - and considered each of us his priceless treasures.

He said aloud what we both felt about management and gave me solid counsel: "Get the best executive admin and leave the details to that person. If you can't trust him/her with your money, your people, and your life, they're not the right fit. And when you find that person, don't let them go, no matter what others say."

He did that. He was a high trust person and a good boss who didn't hold a grudge if you failed. "Try again!" he'd say. "Failure is a lesson that cost only a blow to your pride or a chunk of your budget." He taught us that those could be recovered but you had learned something new and valuable. However, when someone betrayed or harmed others, that person was gone.

He let Mom run the home. At work, Patti ran the office. He handed her the administration, budgets, and office planning. So he worked at work and was home at home. I'd happily do the same.

In contrast, W grew up with a different level of trust. He manages our money and keeps personal things private. Because he wants things done the way he likes them, he prefers to do them himself. There's no way he'd hand the bulk of life's details to an executive assistant. However, he doesn't want fill his plate with most of the 101 details that an assistant tracks. So that stuff lands in my lap.

I'm stuck as my own executive admin, scribbling notes and sending them into the capable hands of others. "Did you get the social media up?" "Please create an announcement for the upcoming event." "Pls schedule the meeting. Check how many can attend at X:00." "Do we have resources for the volunteers?" "Can you check who is looking after ...?" It feels endless and exhausting to someone like me, who is wired to the big-picture.

I've seen leadership done and done well. And I've read that the best executive assistants love to pick up everything I'd happily drop. They run the world from behind the scenes. It's my fondest daydream to be able to sit down once a month with an executive admin to look over the quarter's budget and current calendar. I'd task that person to oversee social media, money, schedules, volunteers, resources, agendas, and more. 

I rarely have energy to cast vision or start new things. I don't mind occasional questions but wouldn't it be amazing to check off a day's meeting and tasks ... and still have capacity to think creatively about the year (or 5 years) ahead, setting something in motion (like Dad did) and letting others run it?! Dream on.

Today, my Dad would probably challenge me: "What's the matter with you? Why are you wasting your time on that?" haha I still hear his voice and feel his love.

I'd reply: "I know, Pop. I miss you, even when I can't follow your advice."

It's what it is. W and I have a satisfying life. I'm writing this on a tropical Porch overlooking a beautiful green backyard. That provides an antidote to the internal chaos of living strangely different from the way I'm wired.

Oops, hang on. Before I head out the door to that pre-meeting, let me write a quick note: "Are we covered for tomorrow's ...?"

Sunday

That morning pre-meeting pays off today. The team works together and knows their stuff. In the hall, Daniel has hung pictures of the IES family beside a tinsel tree for everyone to enjoy.

My new shoes had fit well in the stop. However, after wearing them for an hour I have blisters on my second toes. They also pinch the little toe on my left foot so hard that the pain is almost unbearable. I lift my foot every 10 minutes to release pressure. When I do, my whole foot shakes with relief.

It's a weird feeling to have no control of a foot flapping from the knee down. Hopefully no one notices. I remove my shoes during a meeting after the Gathering. And slide in with a different position afterward. Ah better - and even more relief when I take them off at home.

Our daughter shows me her solution for the ugly plastic pot under her Christmas tree: washi tape. Clever. Looks expensive and matches her coffee table!

In our yard, a clipping has rooted and is blooming in bright Christmas colors.

We walk by a mother hen with two chicks tucked under her wing. Another three peck at garbage nearby. We breathe shallowly and hiss at the chickens so they run out of the dogs' (harm's) way. For our one-mile loop, we endure a short stroll past the garbage dump before passing Bandung's 5-star hotel. (W reads their ad: "$300 instead of $600/night.") That's typical of the side-by-side contrasts in our city.

The Porch is quiet. The garden drips with rain - it's a miserable afternoon but we're under cover and the wind chimes are singing.

We eat lunch at a new place but nothing on the menu hits the spot. The ramen is warm not hot, without many noodles. My sandwich is grilled in olive oil = too much grease for me. But W like his sandwich and doesn't mind lots of oil.

The flowers from the hall are amazing as usual. We put them on the coffee table. Each week, Titik captures the beauty of the season in her arrangements.

"Flowers are hard to find," she admits. "Not much is available in flower shops right now." She supplements with plants from her own yard. What a gift of celebration she offers IES Bandung and us, week by week. When we visit hospital or others, we share the arrangement.

Monday

My friends and mentors teach me so much. Monday morning starts with calls. Work is work but the backdrop is festive when you work from home.

W and I head into town for most of the day, getting groceries for Christmas baking and events. He picks up the unrepaired weed-wacker (too broken to fix; he'll see if someone wants it for parts.) 

You know what a culture eats by what is stocked by their grocers. One entire aisle is 1-2 liter bags of cooking oils.

Another aisle is lined with ramen and other instant noodles.

When we get home, DrW has dropped off tea and cookies - she knows my favorite tea, which is only available in Malaysia.

At night, the lights glow.

Tuesday

This is my usual view on the neighborhood walk. W holds three dogs on one leash.

By the time the helpers come at 8 AM, I've relaxed by setting the table for afternoon tea.

The clotted cream is whipped, the marmalade is plated, and the butter and sugar are ready.

Today is baking day! The ingredients wait at room temperature on the counter as we pull out Christine's KitchenAid. W plugs it into the voltage adapter. There's no time to fool around with a hand mixer. I hear the familiar whir of the beater - we had a KAid in Seattle and it makes fast work of serious baking.

Today and Thursday, IbuA is making and refrigerating dough for +2000 cookies. IbuS and I will bake until all cookies are done. Angie has designed labels for the giveaway bags. Next week, Alice and crew will package the cookies for several events, making it a group project. The logistics are in place; we're praying for smooth sailing!

We confirm which guests are staying with us over Christmas and write Sunday's talk for the 4th Sunday of Advent.

The topic is PEACE. God's peace is much needed. And much appreciated. We hang the Advent ornament of the day on the tree. Each clear glass globe contains a verse and a Christmas item.

We wish you a wonderful season. There's one week left until Christmas. Please ensure you are not celebrating the birth of Jesus alone. Go to a church, meet with a group of friends, or gather with family. Make this the most special time of the year, whether it's been a year of joy or sorrow - because God is for you and his love is with you.

Read more:

*Love truth and peace. Zechariah 8:19

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

Moravian Prayer: Understanding Savior, you are able to comprehend the message of our hearts, even when words fail us. We rejoice to be seen, heard, and known by you. Amen.