Singapore Day 30: All pain and some gain

Zentangle #4: Where are we?

OUCH! That was the most painful massage I've ever had. In the evening, we stop in at a semi-famous Javanese traditional massage, and the hour of torture begins. If I'd been a screamer or even a whimper-er, they would have heard me on the sidewalk. I'm not sure it helped do much but strip my veins: I'm sore rather than relaxed when the tiny but strong gal is done.

One big mangrove tree!

W and I enjoy the morning service at VFC. The pastor talks about the four animals that encourage us to be practical in our walk with God: the ant, the rock badger, the locust, and the lizard. (Students may have used some of the tips from W's class to run the accompanying videos.)

I make ramen for lunch before we catch our favorite bus #12 to East Coast Road (actually the south coast). W and I walk a mile or so to the beach from the bus stop. It is 95o, humid, and brutally hot at 3pm. (By 7, it's cooled to 90o.)

The sandy beach has "No Swimming" signs posted, but campers have erected little tents for sleepovers. Families and friends using the barbecue pits make the most of the stunning ocean view. Off-shore, dozens of ships swing at anchor. We can see freighters, container ships, smaller vessels, and everything between, nose pointed into the wind. W drops me off for the massage and strolls up the street and back.

Ships on the horizon

I'm sore after that massage torture. We ride #12 back to Tampines Street and eat. Can you believe we have hot rice and chicken (W) and tea soup (me)? We eat warm food for most meals; so does everyone else. The fans overhead move the air around so everything cools quickly, including us.

CK and Mimi bring their 2-year-old twins over from 8-9pm. We pull the big newprint block out of a suitcase (Yay, someone can use it!) and hand over the two sets of markers I used for class. The kids keep busy: they're drawing, jumping, looking around. Angel and Ansel are beautiful children, an answer to prayer and a long wait. It's easy to see that they have good parents: they're friendly, lively, and creative. What fun!

W coming back from taking pictures
on a breakwater

We finish packing at 10 and fall into bed for a few hours. We'll be leaving here at 2:30a.m. for our 5a.m. flight to Tokyo and then Seattle. The plan is to arrive Monday morning - after 17 hours of travel- a few hours later than when we leave Singapore. Time zones. Jet lag. It's all coming our way.

Read more:

*They shall live in safety, and no one shall make them afraid. Ezekiel 34:28 NLT

*No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:37-39 NIV

*Make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed. Hebrews 12:13 NLT

Moravian Prayer: Like a comforting mother, hold me this day, Lord, with the tender touch that kisses our wounds and rubs our shoulder and keeps us safe when we fall or even fail. Thank you Lord. Amen.

Singapore Day 29: Wrapping up the month

Zentangle #3: Cry for the city

W goes off to teach his last session. I start to pack and tidy up the bedroom.

While I relax, I draw my third Zentangle. We picked up four black gel pens @ S$1.50 ($1.20 US) last night after supper. Little India is full of bargains and the pens are good fun.

W lets his class out two hours early. He starts to gather the tech gear into his hard-shell suitcase for protection and security. The month of teaching has flown by for both of us.

We head for IKEA. It might not sound like a foreign destination, but every shop has local tweaks. In advance of setting up a home in Bandung, we've been scouting out furnishings and prices. IKEA lands in Jakarta next year. We trust their dishes to be lead-free, their plastics non-toxic, and their furniture classic. I'm hungry, so we eat in the cafeteria. I should have skipped the pasta with its watery tomato sauce and meatballs. We love Asian food: it's a shame to miss even a meal.

Look-alike to the lady nearby

At the next table sits the most beautiful Indian woman I've seen in Singapore. She could be a model, with her perfectly painted eyebrows and lips, and a stunning black flip. Before we leave, I say hi and tell her husband he's a lucky man. Their preteen son smiles at his pretty mom. Singaporeans tend to have few children: most of the island's population growth comes from immigrants and the bigger families of Muslims.

The market bustles with shoppers

We hop the shuttle bus to the center of Tampines, a series of three malls and a crowded Ramadan market. Two weeks ago, thin and nimble men bolted and clambered on the metal trellises. They stretched canvas over the frame to assemble a huge covered space. Kirsten and I were in awe: they hung 20' above the ground without safety harnesses. Now, the booths inside seem to be selling phone covers, fake purses, and food.

Japanese prawn and
chicken croquettes

Neither of us is hungry. But we pick up a "Satay burger" (mutton, peanut sauce, and lettuce on a bun) and some Japanese croquettes. The vendors pour dough into round, cast iron trays, letting the dough firm up before flipping them over with long skewers.

We walk a mile or so to Tampines Shopping Street to see if we can find a massage place. There are two reflexology shops. Indonesians charged $11 for an hour. Here it's $35-50. Too much. We get a bubble tea instead.

Supper last night in Little India
with Augustine and Sumathi

It takes us less than a half hour to walk home but it's very humid and hot (in the 90s. As usual, a surprising number of people are exercising: shooting hoops on the basketball courts atop parking garages, cyclists speeding by, and lots of people out walking.

We split the mutton burger and each try a croquette. (Shall we have leftovers for lunch tomorrow after church?)

One day left. Unbelievable! God has faithfully helped us to do good work. Today W brought back a card from a student who took all three of our classes. Students with similar enthusiasm and progress make our time - and the long flights - feel worthwhile.

Singapore Day 26: A list of Other-ness (or "This place is not like home!")

Everyone who travels experiences moments when they realize, "This is not like what we're used to!" I thought you'd enjoy a short list of some things that are different between Singapore (or Indonesia) and Seattle.

Jakarta traffic

• Human cargo: 
• To save space on the roads, work teams of foreigners sit on the bed of pickup trucks. Rails on the sides and a canopy suffice for moving people efficiently, protected from the weather. (In the US, animal rights activists sometimes protest dogs riding in the open back of a truck.) A taxi driver explains that employers move huge numbers of people this way: having them crowd into buses in their workclothes would be inefficient and dirty.
• About 270,000 men from China, Sri Lanka, the Philippines, India, and Bangladesh provide the bulk of a work force for landscaping and construction, while female Filipinos and Indonesians help with housework and nanny-ing. Most support their families at home with wages from Singapore.
• In Indonesian cities, middle and upper class households hire drivers and maids. City commutes can be hair-raising if you're not used to lane changes, cars zipping by on the shoulder, or motorcycles squeezing between the lanes. People walk through any space provided (at their own risk).
• Locals who have been down-sized sometimes join the taxi workforce. Singapore's taxi drivers are AMAZING: they find the address quickly, are fountains of info on food, shopping, and local sites, and fees are regulated. (Here's a funny video about taxi drivers: click here, and get a feel for the language, too.)

Electrical socket and plug

• Electrical plugs: 
• voltage is 220, not 110 (so you'll fry Ami electronics that aren't wired for dual voltage). 
• The plugs themselves are varied, but mostly British style - big and clunky. 
• You have to turn on the out at the wall and on an extension cord before power flows.

•  Kitchens: 
• Many Singapore kitchens have no oven and some have no stove. Why would you cook and bake when there are hawkers stalls within walking distance?
• Every neighborhood has food courts with individual vendors in hawker stalls. Eating outside (on the open ground floor of a building) is cheaper than eating inside (enclosed air-conditioned space).
• Most parents work late. Children eat with friends at the food courts. Many kids become picky eaters: from the time they're little, they can choose whatever they like from a variety of cooks. A family eating together will have many different kinds of food from various food stalls.
• Restaurants that serve supper are open until 10 or later. Friends or family often hang out together after work. Little kids run around their parents' table area with no fear of danger or getting lost.

Change of style: you may have to
squat not sit

• Toilet stuff: 
• The bathroom is called a toilet here, as in "Where's the toilet, please?" It's called a WC (short for "water closet") in Indonesia. 
• In many places, you'll use an old-style toilet, a hole in the floor.
• In most flats, tap water runs only cold (that is, a tropical lukewarm). We flip a switch to turn on point-of-use heaters for showers. (Hardly anyone has a tub.)
• Some Singapore toilets and every one we saw in Indo come with a bidet: manual (a water hose running from the wall beside the toilet) or automated (a water jet sprays from inside the toilet rim).
• In areas of limited sewer capacity (like Indonesian cities), the garbage bin in the stall is for toilet paper. Do not flush it! Before you say, "Eyew!" keep in mind that it's the same in Israel and other limited-water/sewer areas.

  

Shopping in Chinatown

• Getting around:
• Walking? Watch your step. You need to know what's underfoot, both in style and stuff.
• The curbs and sidewalks are smooth and uniform in newer neighborhoods. In others (like Little India), every shop has paved or tiled its own frontage. Steps up and down, level or slanted walks, and variations in width are just a few of the hazards. In Indonesia, there seems to be no regulation. When pavement is dug up for repairs, it might be replaced by uneven blocks (18"X32" near our hotel) or repaved in any fashion. The sidewalk can serve as a motorcycle passageway if roads are too congested, or may disappear entirely in some places.
• Instead of following the curving roads on sidewalks, most housing is built with an open ground floor. You can take shortcuts through courtyards and under buildings.
• Buses and taxis are commonplace. The SMRT (trains and buses) that run through Singapore are efficient, routes are easy to figure out, and the cost is reasonable. If it takes an hour and a half to get from city center to our eastern side of the island, there's a lot to see from the bus window. Long lines wait to get on the trains during rush hour. People are polite, even while queuing and jockeying for position. However, sometimes Chinese or Indian grandmas elbow their way past us without qualms.

 

Wave down a taxi when
the green roof sign is lit

• Service:
• Whether it's food or shopping, Singapore takes its experiences seriously. The people go out of their way to give great service. Check out this "Goldfish Birthday" video. Made me laugh.
• Singaporeans are hard workers. Competition for education means tutors and after-hours studying. Then the workplace demands a lot of overtime.
• Singapore is CLEAN. If there's litter, it disappears in a hurry: mostly foreign workers sweep and wash public spaces. Garbage is efficiently disposed of. From shop windows to bathrooms, surfaces are wiped down and sparkling. Back alleys and ethnic neighborhoods aren't always as tidy or hygienic.
• The Singaporean government uses ad campaigns, fines, and other incentives to enlist locals' help in wiping out mosquitoes. Standing water is forbidden and inhabitants are strongly cautioned against providing breeding ground for bugs that carry disease and fevers.

How we love this part of the world!

Read more:

*O God, you have taught me from my earliest childhood, and I constantly tell others about the wonderful things you do. Now that I am old and gray, do not abandon me, O God. Let me proclaim your power to this new generation, your mighty miracles to all who come after me. Psalm 71:17-18  NLT

Singapore Days 19-20: Loving it! Singapore to Malaysia

Google Hangout with family

We take the kids across the border to JB, Malaysia, on the weekend and talk to family on Google Hangouts today. (They're 15 hrs. behind so it was last evening in Seattle and morning here.)

I'm tired when I finish teaching and grading each day. My course (Research Methods and Writing) requires a lot of assignments, which I try to get back by the next morning. Someone gives me a ride back to the flat after I clean up and prep for class in my office. Then, while W and the kids are downtown and away from the flat, I study, grade, and rest. Sometimes we head out for supper; other times, the others have eaten and I make ramen for myself. (No condolences needed: I love the S'pore varieties of ramen and they're easy to cook.)

JB: a mix of old and new

Kirsten finds a good rheumatologist Friday and is encouraged by the office visit. Jeremy and Rebekah have strolled through various parts of the island, with and without the others. We spend Saturday browsing Chinatown and local shops.

Sunday, we head through the Singaporean and Malaysian customs and into JB. One of my students pastors a church in JB, but we don't have phone service to connect with him once we crossed the border. Sadly, we miss the service and his offer of tourist guide and van.

W and I have a regular circuit in JB. We're usually on the run, but the kids are less nimble so we take taxis instead of busses, and plan an overnight stay. For lunch, we eat at our favorite Australian hot-stone restaurant: flat lava is super-heated, food arrives raw, and we cook our own meal. Yummy. Everyone loves it: lamb, steak, chicken, fish ... and fantastic mashed potatoes with black pepper sauce.

On a previous visit (2010), W took Kirsten and Jonathan to a seafood restaurant outside the city. This time, we cram into a small car (all five of us! plus the driver). I kneel sideways on the floor between W, K, and Jer. Ouch for 20 minutes. 

However, our taxi driver waves us off our destination. "Not there. Not that one. I take you to much better place. Near. Is near same. This Restoran Todak much more food for local and Singapore-people." Singaporeans are notoriously picky about their food: my students know exactly where they like to eat local specialties. So we figure we'll follow the taxi driver's advice to a place Singaporeans frequented. 

The place is crammed. A server finds us a table: "Outside, yes?" -- on the deck overlooking the water and the opposite shoreline. We ask those around us what we should order. "Steam fish," they say. We liked that, but the pepper crab, mayonnaise prawns, and Chinese greens were amazing. We eat family style but can't finish.

Kirsten and I overlooking the water

Between cracking open crab legs and slurping sauces, we need to wash our hands a few times. The sinks, fastened to the bayside railings, drain right soapy rinse-water into the ocean below. The pink lights warm the faces of hundreds of diners.

Little kids climb on the railings: no one falls over or into the sea. They run back to their parents, among other tables, wash their hands, and stare at the big, light-skinned foreigners. There's an assumption of responsibility and self-awareness here = if you do something stupid and get hurt, it's your fault. But parents don't fret over every little thing about their kids, either.

Sink draining into the ocean

Monday, after a nice stay at the Citrus Hotel, we head to a mall for some last-minute shopping. I try to find a few Indonesian movies. The shop-keeper takes ages running them for English subtitles. We use up our time waiting. Time runs out, which is really disappointing. (I have to teach, so we can't stay late. We miss our second visit to places we'd seen yesterday.)

We've planned to meet at the bridge to immigration, but it's hard to find. When Jer and Reb find K and me, W's gone across to see if they're already on the other side of the street. I lean over the railing beside the bridge, three storeys above eight lanes of traffic, and whistle.

I don't think my whistle was that loud. I didn't put much force into it. But the two teens smoking beside me open their eyes in shock and a few passersby stand still for a second. W comes walking back out from the heart of the immigration building ... because he hears the whistle. Oops! Guess it is louder than I thought, echoing across the street and into the big building.

View from our JB hotel

We take three buses home and are back by 7pm. I review my study material, grade the papers that came in over the weekend, and watch a movie with the family.

Wednesday, W and I have supper with Shane, administrator and trainer for a network of 6000 community and house churches. He gives us great ideas of what's working for church-planters in Berlin, Uganda, and East Timor. Missions may not look like what we thought. We're open. We're interested. And we're going. Only God knows what the church plant will look like, but we're making connections that will help us do God's work. We need to ask and trust that spiritual doors will open and people will find Him.

The college administrator picks me up at 7:50 each morning. There's a speaker and worship leader from 8-8:30 before classes start. I give the school devotional Thursday (today) on Luke 11-12: staying on task of reaching the world without hypocrisy or trying to be someone we're not. We're wrapping up class time today: students will meet in groups tomorrow and do their research.

Timothy and Melissa call us via Google Hangout. It's such fun to watch 2-year-old Kinsey squirming and shouting, "Oma! Opa!" She flops on the carpet beside her dad to wave, look at our pictures, and call to us. We'll be doing this often when we move to this part of the world next year.

Tonight, W and I fly to Indonesia to explore the city we'll teach and live in. Can't wait to see the family who stayed with us in Seattle. Both girls have married and one is expecting. Very exciting! Our family continues to grow.

Read more:

*Later, the LORD sent this message to King Ahaz: "Ask the LORD your God for a sign of confirmation, Ahaz. Make it as difficult as you want—as high as heaven or as deep as the place of the dead."

But the king refused. "No," he said, "I will not test the LORD like that."

Then Isaiah said, "Listen well, you royal family of David! Isn't it enough to exhaust human patience? Must you exhaust the patience of my God as well? All right then, the Lord himself will give you the sign." Isaiah 7:10–14a NLT

*From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work. Psalm 104:13 NLT

*Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 NLT

Moravian Prayer: Most Gracious God, help us each day to remember the gift you have given us. Rain or shine, in times of sadness or joy, let us thank you for the greatest gift of all – your Son, Jesus and his love for us. Amen.

Singapore Day 13: Creative classroom

A perfectly captured moment: check
out more marvelous paintings by
the artist: Prabhakara Jimmy Quek

You wouldn't think that a Research Methods class would be a creative endeavor. But the seven students from Singapore and Malaysia have wonderful stories. Today they presented topics that interest them, headed toward a finished paper. Hopefully each will have most of the research done and the paper written by next weekend.

Singapore demands a different kind of busy of its citizens. It's on the run 24-7. Our students come to class 8:30am-1:30pm (8-1:30 next week). Afterwards, they go to ministry events, work, or other commitments. Between leaving class and returning (I'm not sure when), they do their homework and prep for classes.

I'm so grateful for the TESOL classes with Dr. Kobashigawa, taken just before we left Seattle. I've tried to carry over the relaxed intensity of her classroom to our Singapore experience. We have to accomplish a lot, but we take a half-hour breakfast break at 10 and have other breaks between work sessions. After we finish, there's cleanup and an evening ahead.

W, Kirsten, Jeremy, and Rebekah are downtown by the time I finish teaching. The guys walk around in SimLim (tech mall), the girls look for clothes, and eat an early supper in town.

Meanwhile, I head back to the flat and finish the porridge (rice mush with chicken and egg in it) left over from brunch. It tasted fantastic in the morning and still tickles my taste buds this afternoon, though it looks plain and kind of slimy.

J and R arrived during the night. They had an empty seat between them on their flights, a true luxury. However, due to turbulence, no one could use the toilets between Tokyo and Singapore. Needless to say, there were long lines for the restrooms in the airport. W went to the airport to fetch them, but it took them a while to get through the bathroom lines and back to the flat.

I saw the kids for a quick hello and goodbye before heading for class this morning. It's nice to have them here. We miss Timothy and Melissa but it's their turn to travel with us next time, perhaps to Bandung. (Jono, we miss you too. He was here last time we taught in S'pore.)

Kirsten's acupuncture session and herbal meds seemed to help with her joint pain yesterday, but she's pretty sore today. W and the kids come home exhausted. Kirsten's joint are aching, Rebekah's feeling the heat. Jeremy's knee hurts and W's throat is raw. (Good thing he's not teaching this week. He's tour guide and host, between projects.)

I have my grading done by the time everyone gets back. K heads for a nap, W hops online, and the other two relax and set up their phones. I'm ready for morning class, then it's onward ho to the weekend.

Singapore Day 3: Hot, hazy, and delicious

Smoke haze begins to clear

I rest in the morning while W teaches. This time around, neither of us adjusted as quickly to the time change as before. Part of it is that we're riding around in a car some of the time: we'd be walking and using public transit if Taylors weren't kind chauffeurs. The ongoing haze probably doesn't let as much sunlight through to reset our body clocks, either.

We've got opposing teaching schedules. W's on this week and our fourth. I'm teaching the two weeks between. As usual, he comes back from class excited about the discussion and material he taught. I'm reviewing material and getting ready for next week: I have to teach two intensive weeks of research methodology, or "How do you write a research paper?"

Some kids in Malaysia and Singapore wear
masks to prevent lung damage from smoke
blowing from Indonesia to the west

Most of the students have not done theological research or writing. Some from non-tech areas will have only used a computer in the previous 3-4 weeks. A few are barely literate in English. For them, this is a crash course in language and literacy, as well as academia. My job is to give them enough information and skill to get through their theology classes.

I've been inspired by those who've taught this in the past. They've loved the students and their material, and shared their joy in the progress students make. This wouldn't be my first choice of teaching material, to be honest. More artist than mathematician, I like the interchange of "what can be" rather than "these are the rules you will use." However, I have more enthusiasm than I started with from hearing others' passion for teaching English. Plus God just took me through 4 weeks of TESOL, which surely will help!

After noon, Cheryl takes me and their 9-yr-old daughter N across the island to the Junk Pile, a pottery stash on the west side. The Brits colonized Singapore so cars drive on the left, not the right like in the USA. It's a happy reminder of our stay in England a decade ago.

Young N is soon hot and bored. No wonder - her mom and I are fascinated by the variety in each aisle of the shaded warehouse. Temps are in the low 90s, but humidity is high and the breeze is minimal between the shelves. We're dripping within a half hour.

One of the island's only surviving Dragon Kilns is at this pottery. We walk through a brick tunnel and look at the pottery supplies and tools for students who come here to learn and plan with clay. When we're done, we wash the dust off our hands and cool off with a popsicle. It takes 40 minutes to cross the island back to our flat to pick up the other child, 14-year-old J.

W's class is done by 3:15. We drop by the school for him on our way to the most amazing supper at Tim Ho Wan, a Michelin-rated dim sum restaurant. The line is long but quick; we shuffle from one low stool to the next toward the entry.

Hum bao

A server comes by and hands us a tab sheet for pre-orders. Once we're seated, our food arrives on little trays and in steamer baskets. Even the kids rave about the delectable glutinous rice wrapped in leaves, fresh hot hum bao rolls with crispy outsides and bbq pork inside, and the shrimp dumplings. The tables are packed with happy customers. No wonder! We stagger out with bulging stomachs.

We make one more stop: Arab Street (the Muslim quarter). in the shops that line the narrow streets, the Taylors find batik, shawls, and other beautiful gifts. W and I are on stuff-rations. We're severely downsizing at home and determined not to bring more home than we came with. If we can, we'll shed clothing, books, and other goodies here.

W and I pause at the Sufi Corner for Turkish coffee (he) and mint tea (me). Beside us, tables of young people smoke hookahs and visit, passing the hoses of rose and milk shisha around and puffing out fragrant clouds.

We're all weary and happy to be home by 7:30. We toddle off to bed and sleep soundly. By the time I get up at 8 in the morning, everyone else is gone. In the air-conditioned quiet, I sit at my desk overlooking other flats, traffic, and lots of greenery, brushing up on what I'll teach next week.

Singapore Day 2: Sweet Sunday

Murtabak stuffed with mutton, with
more curry sauce to spice it up.

"What do you guys think about breakfast before church?" Cheryl asks. She's awake with us at 4am.

We're for it ... especially since it's not Western food. "The nearest place that serves decent Western breakfasts charges S$15 for French Toast," she explains. Out of our league, even if we were interested. (We're not.)

When you're wide awake that early, an uninterrupted day lasts a long time. I have a quick snooze between 7-8am.

The Murtabak with mutton is super, and we're stuffed when we get to church. I know we're in a different culture when the announcements begin with "Let me tell us about this." (The person making announcements is part of the group, not an individual telling others what's coming.)

The VFC sanctuary (no balloons today,
but this is where we met)

The worship is great - 6 voices, 5 instrumentalists. The usher goes on stage to collect the offering from the worship team and pastor before coming down to the rest of us.

Pastor Joseph, a former lawyer and church planter, is a compelling speaker. His text is Romans 4:17-22. To keep our attention, he uses a device common here: group repletion. "We're talking today about Abraham. Everyone say 'Abraham.'"

The audience responds, "Abraham."

When he reads V. 20, he says, "... grew strong in faith. Everyone say, 'grew strong in faith.'"

And the audience complies, "Grew strong in faith."

Soon we're instructed, "Turn to your neighbor and say, 'You have a measure of faith.'"

W and I look at each other. We're not used to this. We instinctively raise our eyebrows rather than our voices. It's always fun to see what Family does in different cultures. This church is renowned for planting house churches all over the world. There may be as many as 8-9000 church plants in the past decades. As far as they can tell to date, the church has five generations of church planting (the mother church has sent a planter, whose church planted, and then that church plants another, etc.)

Pastor Joseph has a beautiful singing voice. He leads us a Capella in one of my favorite choruses, "Bless the Lord, O my soul, O my soul, worship his holy name." Then we're called to the front if we desire God's help as our heavenly Father.

"God is honored when we ask for much," the pastor reminds us. "It shows that we believe we have a great God, who has limitless resources. He is not made poor by our requests, but delights to hear us ask him for all we need."

I need a fresh anointing of God's Spirit and I'm eager to ask. In this new calling, we will need wisdom and strength, along with the insight and power that only the Holy Spirit can give.

We return to our seats for closing announcements. At the front, off to one side, is a plexiglass box marked "Decency Cloths." inside are blue fleece blankets. An older lady hurries over to cover a gal lying prostrate on the floor praying. The woman stays on the carpet until service is over. Then a few women come up to pray with her. After we are dismissed, as many greet each other and leave, groups of 5-10 pray together among the pews.

Singapore MRT

No one is hungry for lunch. Jay has to teach in the afternoon, so he drops us at the Tampines MRT (train) station on his way to his class. There's no litter on the trains. Women wear flip-flops or cute sandals, shorts, or skirts. The men wear tight indigo jeans with t-shirts and sneakers.

On the way, a group of young people chatters on the train. The guys sit on each others' laps when there are too few seats. Many passengers are texting or checking email. When the teens say noisy goodbyes to each other at a station stop, older people hiss "sssssshhhhh" at them and all becomes quiet again.

We ride to Bugis, a suburb with a huge vendor market and a shopping hub for electronics. I need a sun hat. I don't find one at the Bugis market but the perfect one is waiting at OG, a Japanese department store nearby. It shades my fair skin from the sun. I wear sunglasses, another rarity among women. Many people stare me right in the eye/glasses as they walk by. I look back at them from behind dark lenses.

We eat at an okay place in Little India, sitting between the road (congested with narrow lorries, hundreds of Indian men, and an occasional woman) and the statue of a black goddess with enormous breasts. I keep glancing over to see who's watching us. There she is. Ugh. The chicken korma is fine, the Basmati rice is tasty, and the fennel/coriander potatoes are delicious.

The Indian (Bangladeshi?) men walk holding hands or with arms around their shoulders. The men are out in droves, visiting before the workweek resumes. They ignore traffic lights to drift across the roads in huge swarms or sit in open areas chatting and smoking together.

Little India. Lots and lots of men!

We hop a bus from Little India back to the Tampines Station. The cutest thing we see is while we're walking the mile home  is an older teen with trendy clothes, a serious Mohawk haircut, and a face mask (against pollution). He walks arm in arm with his tiny grandmother. He escorts her over the crosswalk and toward the apartment blocks. I don't have my camera, or you could enjoy the sight with me!

We've walked miles. It's pleasant out - it was still smoggy from the fires in Indonesia but not unbearable. The temperature was a pleasant 90+oF with a bit of a breeze off and on cooling the skin. It's still 93oF when we get home and the sun goes down about 7:10pm.

We're on floor 7. It's my first run at the stairs. My legs start to feel tired between floors 5 and 6. W carries his bag holding water bottles and a few purchases up the elevator. By the time he's unlocked the flat, I meet him at the door, ready for a refreshing drink.

God is good. We love this area - and are grateful for good health, the ability to walk as long as we want, eat whatever pleases us, and do God's work to boot. I think it's going to be another early night. Hope you all have a great day as the sun comes up on the N. American continent.

Read more:
*For dominion belongs to the Lord, and he rules over the nations. Psalm 22:28 NLT

*They sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord, “For he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.” Ezra 3:11 NLT

*Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. Acts 2:46-47 NLT

Moravian Prayer: Thanks be to you, Lord Christ, for your presence in our lives, for the love you have poured out upon us through your life. We thank you for your teaching, your healing, and most of all, for giving your life for us. We know we are not worthy, but we feel your enduring love. Amen.

Singapore arrival

W grins from ear to ear. "They bumped us up."

They are Delta and their rep at the gate takes a liking to W. Though there's a long line for upgrades, she seats W and me side by side in Business Elite. We have fully reclining seats with down-like pillows and comforters. We sip refreshing orange juice as we wait for others to board. The menu choices are for a three-course dinner: soup and salad, [halibut], and a choice of desserts. W has the tenderloin. I try a bit of everything on my plate, but it's like they're feeding us everything the other passengers are not getting. Too much!

I tuck myself in after dinner and a movie and sleep for nearly 6 hours. I'm awake in time to ask for a late breakfast. The tray comes laden with fresh fruit, a quiche and sausages, and two croissants with a pot of preserves. I'd need these wide seats if I'd attempt to eat it all. Tea, fruit, and a few bites of quiche does it for me.

Our trip through security at Tokyo Narita goes smoothly, especially after we are pointed to a short line in another section of the airport. We eat a bit of congee in the Delta Club. It settles W's stomach. We both skip the beautiful sushi with regret: I'm still full from breakfast.

We're rested and wide awake, flying almost 7 hours to Singapore. Some people at Changi International Airport have dust masks on. The fires from Indonesia produce a grey haze that lies over the island as our taxi driver swirls through the streets. These guys are amazing: we tell them our address and they rush off. There's seldom a wrong turn, just a rush to drop us off and catch the next fare.

Singapore haze

It's 2am by the time we find the elevator for our block and haul our stuff into the flat. Our friends, the Taylors, have gotten in just before us and are asleep. We sleep soundly until 7am. Taylors have head out for a breakfast meeting so we catch up on emails and have a piece of toast. The smell of smoke permeates the flat.

At 9:30am, the clock back home says 6:30pm. We normally have a minimal adjustment upon arrival in a new time zone. (We feel jet-lagged for days when we return to Seattle's dark climate.) Our bodies feel like its morning, but we'll see how the evening goes. We're glad to be here!

Read more:

*Plant your seed in the morning and keep busy all afternoon, for you don't know if profit will come from one activity or another—or maybe both. Ecclesiastes 11:6 NLT

*His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away. Daniel 7:14 NIV

*But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.

He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior,  so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. Titus 3:4-7 NIV

*Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8 NLT

Moravian Prayer: God, our lives become unmanageable and we grow weary. Knowing you are the same yesterday, today, and forever provides unimaginable comfort and joy. Amen.