Monday, December 30, 2024
I'm grateful. It's been one of the most difficult years in memory. I am thankful that it's almost over. During the night, I write in my journal about things I appreciated and what I learned last year.
I'm evaluating the year as I usually do. This time I have a black notebook for highlights on the 2024 calendar, observations, and lessons.
We drive to the IKEA sale in the next suburb. The straight street and limited traffic feel as though we've stepped into 1990s suburban life in the USA.
One of my purchases is this clay pot, which sits in a few inches of water inside a porcelain dish. It must be soaked for an hour before planting the cypress and lavender shoots.
In the afternoon, PakG brings back the tree stump from the hall's Christmas display. We rewind the hoya vine around it and replace other plants on its branches.
I'm hungry for Vietnamese food. On our way home is Royal City restaurant. We walk up 3 long flights (20 steps each). It's quite full when we start with their free appetizer. We spot the elevator later.
While we wait for our order, I admire their mural.
W prefers cold noodles (bun) while I like hot soup (pho), even in this weather.
A neighbor sends me a picture of Juno outside our gate. Someone from next door has left the gate open. Luckily the dogs are old and don't run away. By the time we get home, Juno's returned to her sweet spot, a massive dog pillow that overlooks the entry.
Too many lights! for the New Year, after all the excitement of Christmas. I strip out the shelves and lay the long string back on itself. Better. Now to find the boxes they came in.
Tuesday
Someone is burning garbage, which is common though illegal. Workers sweep debris and leaves to the sides of the roads and start fires that pollute the neighborhoods.
When I leave the hall, it has almost burned itself out without catching the big tree on fire. Amazing.
W and I stop at the hall on our walk. Daniel has taken down the decor in the hall and the bins are ready to come home.
W and I separate our items from what belongs to IES Bandung.
My breakfast is a source of wonder. Consider what you are eating today? Have you paused lately to thank God for the global economy and social media?
As I'm talking to my mom in Canada, I sip tea from Malaysia, made with water filtered by an American machine (Sawyer). The yogurt is from Indonesia and the Italian panettone (sweet bread) came back in our suitcases.
After our call, I walk back to the hall again, admiring the water apples growing overhead.
I'd forgotten that these vines have bean-like pods. What a beautiful red-orange color! after the yellow-orange flowers.
The helpers meet me at the hall to pack our things into boxes and bring them home.
The IES Bandung tree and ornaments belong in the basement storage room.
Lisa WAs me - anything going on tonight? We've planned nothing - we share supper and watch the first-of-the-new-year fireworks going off in New Zealand.
We have a few cakes after rice and savory treats. I share a "coffee coffee" cake Keelee baked and sent along.
Lisa and John are from Auckland, so the 6PM New Zealand festivities - 6 hours ahead of Bandung - are perfect timing. However, I'm wide awake until 1:30 AM. Sigh. Finally, I swallow 2 melatonin chocolates and sleep until just after 5 AM.
Wednesday - New Year's Day
We walk and admire a worm making its slow trek across the street. The harmony of nature - sticks, snakes, worms and more - are astonishing.
Our late breakfast is oatmeal and panettone on the Porch. After calling Mom, I take down a few ornaments. And then a few more. And then some garlands. And then some lights ... pretty soon the tree is almost bare and the shelves are almost clear of Christmas decor.
We eat lunch at Ethnic, a few blocks away. Tiny orange flowers grow on the stems where new new leaves are emerging.
I order a delicious tenderloin ($8) which W helps me finish.
He asks the staff to pack up his leftovers (2/3 of a $7 black pepper steak) but somehow it gets tossed. They deliver a new steak to the house! which he has for supper.
For supper, I plan on soup leftovers from last week ... but I'm not hungry. I put that in the freezer and eat it Friday.
Thursday - Friday
On our loop, I notice the one-lane road leading to a village on the hill. Typically, there's a squeeze between a pedestrian, a motorcycle and a car. The car can only drive partway into housing because the road forks into tiny alleys that require skill to pass through on a motorcycle. Selamat datang means "welcome."
We go down the dead-end street behind our house: W has heard construction noises and we're curious. A neighbor is rebuilding. At the end of the street, can you spot the entry to the villages below? See the opening between the roof and the little shed? We didn't notice it until someone pointed it out to us years ago.
This narrow stairway and trail give access to a warren of houses and hillside structures. We've climbed down that steep hillside a time or two.
We pack up 95% of the Christmas decor. The rest is waiting for boxes that have disappeared. "No one" seems to be able to find it while I sort ornaments and coil lights. I put away what I can and am dusty, ready for a break at 4 PM.
I keep calling PakG to come back after he dashes outside each time he carries up a box. Finally I appeal to W, can you ask him to stay around?
We note that the majority culture was much more relaxed when we came a decade ago. It's fascinating, observing how people reshape their culture with more and more restrictions. Of course, my PhD is in Intercultural Studies so watching that unfold is an anthropology textbook come to life.
Early Friday morning, I go upstairs to find how the storage boxes for lights and ornaments have disappeared. They're in plain sight. The explanation: "Oh, I thought I told you there were boxes." When I specifically asked if there was Christmas stuff, the response was "no, just picture frames and boxes." Sigh. If I hadn't been doing other things, I could have checked and saved ourselves hours of work. Even I can't find the box for the shell-and-pearl tree ornament from the Philippines. It's like it's fallen into a black hole.
While I'm upstairs, I look at what was put away while I worked downstairs. The last of it was essentially dumped atop carpets and stacked haphazardly. I even have to move a clutter of bags to get to the shelves. Well, their big chore next next week will be repacking items for proper access. There's no avoiding instructions skipped over the first time.
IbuS changes the sofa slipcover from red to black. It's hard to feel winter-ish? in 80o (27C) weather.
The room feels calm, fresh, and empty after the house is cleaned. I bring a lamp down to the reading area. The rest can wait.
With the tree gone, W pushes a few pieces furniture into place. He is motoring through his book on women in ministry. He has already written Sunday's talk, which introduces our 2025 themes. It's Friday - but Sunday is a-coming.
On the reading chair, Kim batik quilt feels like a hug from a friend. I like the chair's wide arms, which safely hold a mug of tea.
My own assignment is compiling research for a book on parents of global workers. First, I have to compose a good survey. "In January," I promised myself, having no capacity for extras before Christmas. Well, it's January. Let's get to work.
Read more:
*This is God, our God forever and ever. He will be our guide forever. Psalm 48:14
*Great is our Lord and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. Psalm 147:5
*The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom, and the favor of God was upon him. Luke 2:40
*Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” John 14:6
Moravian Prayer: Lord Jesus, the fullness of your humanity could be found in your life as a child. As you played, learned, and grew, God was with you. May your human life help us see God in all that we do.
Jesus, we leave behind the joys and regrets of the year gone by. Guide us as we embrace new challenges and new opportunities. Help us make following you our first and only goal. Amen.
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