Climate change: 35% humidity (Seattle) to 90% (Singapore) to 78% (Bandung)

Thursday, April 7, 16

We eat supper at Aroma of India, a favorite eatery of Josue and Claudia. It's closed when we get there, but Claudia knocks on the door. She asks if they'll open for us. We can't wait until regular hours because Josue has an evening appointment.

They say, "Come back at 6:00. We'll open 15 minutes early."

We walk through part of Little India, taking in the smells and colors. The fragrance of flowers wafts from the temples. The food is well worth the wait!

Little India: colorful courtyards

Friday

Claudia bakes a Brazilian specialty for breakfast: fresh, hot cheese and tapioca flour rolls. (She first made them for us as her farewell breakfast when she stayed with us in November.) Absolutely yummy. The house smells wonderful as we emerge from a good sleep.

The kids are off to school at 7:30 but young Leo is under the weather. He toughs it out and goes, while we all sympathize.

Taxis and buses are plentiful, clean, and cheap

When Josue returns from taking the kids to school, we talk and pray together. We hear their hopes for the congregation and share resources.

Sooner than we’d like, it’s time to leave. We stand on the curb with 4 bulky suitcases, flagging down 2 taxis. (The fee: $7 Sing each vs. $50 Sing for a large taxi = about $10 US total, rather than $35.) Claudia hops in with me while W comes separately. After unloading, the taxi drivers urge us to check the trunks and back seats to make sure we have left nothing behind.

Options on the free foot massagers at the airport

We have no problems with luggage check-in. The scales weigh our suitcases at 2 kilos less than our digital scale. Final hugs and promises to pray for each other, and then Claudia heads home. We go through security without hassles. The airport is spotless; the gardens and amenities are worthy of a good hotel. Singaporean airport employees are briskly courteous and efficient.

The water lily garden at the airport,
an oasis for exhausted travelers

The flight leaves at noon. Our lunch: fried rice with shredded salty fish (eek, I hand it to W) and tofu strips (ok.) We land around 12:30. (Bandung time is an hour behind.) Ah, the new terminal is open: they even have a luggage carousel! It’s a fine upgrade from the conveyer that spit everyone’s suitcases into a small room. Everyone would throng the conveyer until their luggage arrived, then wade through the crowd to queue in the cordoned Z-line to customs.

We stop at Setiabudi Grocer for eggs, vegetables, and Coke for W. We are home by 3, to ecstatic barks and run-arounds by the security dog Gypsy. I’ve brought him a squeaker ball; he spends the afternoon chasing it and making it peep. (He shreds the “indestructible” ones from here, layering them into neat piles of plastic pieces.)

Gypsy in his glories: "squeak squeak"

The place looks tidy. The dehumidifier in a Rubbermaid container of shoes and handbags has kept them from moulding. Last time we traveled, our shoes became dusty with mildew. A ceiling fan helps, too. W has installed one in the bedroom since we don’t have air-con.

The internet is down at the house. The rain “or something” is wrecking reception. Welcome home! W puts in our Indonesian SIM cards so we can WhatsApp our family and friends that we’re safe. We connect with Indonesian friends, too.

We are too tired to cook so we walk to a new restaurant on the corner named Wild Grass. W has a burger, which he likes. I order a disappointing prawn salad: a bowl of romaine lettuce, topped with 3 prawns (reassembled with heads on), 4 small cubes each of sweet potato and dragon fruit and a watery yoghurt dressing. We splurge on a banana dish for dessert but take most of it home. The wait-staff members are friendly and speak some English.

W’s shower turns cold after a few minutes. Mine stays hot. Whew. We crash into bed after unpacking our suitcases. Of course we are up, off and on, all night. Jetlag is a beast.

Saturday

We’ve exchanged 35% humidity in our Seattle basement suite for 78% in the house here.

I slather my face with sunblock for Gypsy’s early-morning walk, a chance to say hi to neighbors and look around the neighborhood. Even when we pass other dogs, Gypsy is mostly calm. What a switch from the day we got him, when he pulled me off my feet to charge a pack of dogs. Neutering and Pak Entang’s daily walks have transformed him.

Ibu A is happy to see us. 3 days a week while we’ve been gone, she’s kept the house sorted and clean. “I clean. I sleep. I come back and clean more.” Sweeping and mopping is a never-ending chore in houses where many windows have screens instead of glass. All the little animals that call this home need someone to tidy after them, too. She washes the grit off the top plate of each stack in the cupboard and scrubs lizard poop off the walls. She irons our travel clothes while we finish unpacking.

And she shows us the broken toilet lid: “I’m so sorry. It slipped out of my hands one day as I was cleaning it.” We have to replace the toilet if we can’t glue the lid together. Her husband has already checked: lids are not replaceable.

Ibu W has suggested a post-travel massage and her lady comes in the morning and eases my sore back. What a relief.

For lunch, Ibu A steams bananas, cooks rice, and makes a salad from the greens in our garden. She warns me off plucking weeds that look like mesclun (young salad leaves).

A refreshing water

I start to readjust to the lizards darting here and there. A few spiders and lots of ants roam the place. I even find ants in grains stored in a sealed plastic box (which is in a sealed plastic bin). Every time we leave, we renegotiate the tenancy of insects. “Out with you!” we insist, but they resist us and return when we look away.

After lunch, we pass a few Pacific NW goodies to neighbors and walk to Borma on the next hill. It’s not a simple walk: the pavement is variable, the streets and alleys go up and down steeply, and twists and turns through the kampung (villages) bring us further uphill than we planned. It’s hot hot hot in the sunshine but the wide brim of my Walmart straw hat keeps the sun off my face.

At Borma, a “we-have-everything” supermarket, I refresh with a red bean yogurt popsicle (40c) while W replicates a key for the new lock on the gate. People say hello but stand at a respectful distance from Gypsy, who lies calmly on the pavement.

The dog carries our water bottles in a pack. He loves being a working dog but he and we pant our way up the final hill to home. +11 km (+13,000 steps) of hills on our first day back. Welcome home indeed.

In late afternoon, lightning and thunder crash almost simultaneously around the house. Gypsy, frightened out of his wits, leaps the patio fence to sit beside W on the porch until it’s over. At least he’s not in the neighbor’s house, where he’s fled the past weeks during the worst storms of rainy season.

Sunday
I'm up at 4. That's it for the night, then.

The blog takes 3 hours to write. Sigh. Oh yeah, I have to plan time for writing here. We still have no internet and I keep getting bumped off my phone hotspot.

We look forward to attending a church service nearby.

 Read more:
*In God we boast all day long, and praise your name forever. Psalm 44:8 NKJV

*With gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. Colossians 3:163:16 ESV

*Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. James 4:7-10 NIV

Moravian Prayer: Jesus, we could give thanks and praise all day and night and never come close to expressing our gratitude for all that you have done for us. Today we pause to thank you for all our blessings, great and small. Amen.

C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity, on happiness:

What Satan put into the heads of our remote ancestors was the idea that they could “be like gods”—could set up on their own as if they had created themselves—be their own masters—invent some sort of happiness for themselves outside God, apart from God. And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history—money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery—the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.

Travels across the Pacific and a mini rant

Saturday, April 2.16

Packing. It's what we do. The flat dissolves into a mess of suitcases and sorting.

Another memory from Friday:
dear friends Zahra and Sadri

By noon, I'm on the way downtown for one final art demo. The lecture is on using Golden acrylic paints. We get a goodie bag with paints and mediums (gels to alter how the paint flows), which goes straight into my suitcase.

We have to lighten the load. Since we'll be in Singapore to process Indonesian visas, our luggage is weighed internationally for the first leg. But in the final flight - Singapore to Indonesia - we are permitted less weight. The website doesn't say we can pay for more, so we leave a full suitcase behind. The women's conference gifted us with fresh linens, familiar spices, and household necessities. We'll bring most of those on the next trip or kind friends /visitors may bring them.

The chaos of packing

Sunday

Breakfast with a cross-cultural friend refreshes my spirit. We meet at a greasy spoon café. Dishes are saturated in fat and salt. Yum. Tasty. And more to walk off when I get home to Bandung!

Oh the irony at the next table.
enjoying a high calorie, high fat, high cholesterol, high salt breakfast:
volunteers for a Group Health event

She and I talk and pray - it's an intense morning of "small church" for both of us, one last reminder of God's care and calling before she heads east and W and I return to Indonesia. Pastor to pastor, we promise to hold each other accountable for learning, cultural adjustments, and matters of ministry. W goes to "big church" with our family.

A blessing to have godly parents
who like us enough to drive down for a goodbye

My parents drive from Canada, joining us and our children for lunch. Melissa's assembled a big lunch. We savor the meat in sauces from Shamiana (a Kirkland restaurant of northern Indian food) as we visit, pray together, wish each other God's blessings  - and much too quickly, my folks return home.

The tribe, including K's dog Zoe

In the evening, Jodi and I meet at a Starbucks near our place. She drives miles to see me. What a bonus! We run into Sue and her husband, dropping by this Starbucks for a treat. Hugs all around, of course.

For a few hours, Jodi - dear friend and mentor - refreshes my heart with reminders of the Lord's faithfulness, the importance of our calling, and the joys of obedience to God. Oh my, I feel recommissioned to serve by the time we wave goodbye. 

Monday

We have made no plans. We finish packing, W cleans the car loaned us by Dale and Phyllis (THANK YOU!), and we visit with the kids.

For supper, we take the two singles (K and J) out to say goodbye. The food is solid American and tasty at the Lake Forest Grill. We talk about transitions in their future.

I get to say goodbye to Phyllis, a longtime friend, as we drop the car back to her. She's ill so we forgo the hug.

Kirsten drives us to the airport. She returns to Austin tomorrow.

Monday night: a little rant, so please excuse me. I'm at the airport gate, feeling frazzled and invaded.

It's a part of the cost of travel. And I’m mad about it. Is it not mind-boggling to everyone that in a country that shouts “freedom and liberty for all” its people can be weighed down with rules? Some of the most ridiculous must be the pat-downs for those who choose to bypass the nuclear screening booth at airport security. (X-ray security machines at the airport have not been independently tested as safe. If you are a regular traveler, you will accumulate radiation in addition what streams through airplane windows. We choose not to.)

I endure the general strokes in public, which is humiliating and silly enough. The gal checks her gloves with the machine and it beeps. Her gloves register an explosive residue. Yup, that’s me. Explosive.

She calls another gal and the two women paw through my purse, touching everything including undies and makeup in my carry-on. They smash everything back into general position. 

"You are not done," they say. May I put on my shoes so I don’t have to walk across the whole area of airport dirt in socks? “Not yet,” they say. Oh yeah, those could be a danger, though they've already checked them over.

They move me to a private room for a yet more invasive pat-down, one woman touching and the other watching. I resent the invasive process, as humiliating for them as for me. I say it aloud: "Isn't this stupid?" One, who's worked for 12 years in security, says, "Yes. It's not good, all around. But what can we do?"

Fellow travelers have remarked on the absurdity and danger of not training airport security about the markers for suspicious people. Instead, they'll pull a young person, a grandma, or any traveler by lotto (“lucky you, #10"). It's pretty useless.

Being herded animals has become part of travel – and the odd thing is how few of us protest. We usually blunder through discomforts without a peep. [Historically, the powers-that-be evoke no protest from the general population. We keep a low profile to raise the least awareness, risk, or trouble to ourselves.]

This night, stressed after saying goodbye, the cattle prod shocks me again. And I protest. Without effect. Impersonal regulations. "Protect the people." My resentment swells against those who harm others and bring such a mess on the world. All the advancements of technology cannot compete with the wickedness and depravity of a broken human heart. Enough said. Maybe too much.

It’s late at night when we board: midnight is long gone by our 1:30 a.m. flight. We’re on our way back to SE Asia, with a Singapore stop for visas. We layover in Taipei, the airport a clean and orderly portal that shuts out the noise and color of this city.  People are subdued; we’re all tired.

It’s pretty incredible that the big birds will take thousands of us through the night air, winging over oceans and islands, cities and farms, mountains and valleys. We lose Tuesday to the International Dateline, arriving in Singapore at noon on Wednesday.

"Luckily, you get the time back coming to Seattle," says a friend. True.

Thursday

We land in Singapore around noon, in time for a late lunch with Josue, Claudia, and their wonderful kindergarten-aged kids, Leo and Kat (for short). Josue took a masters-level video class by W and a class with me when we taught here last year. They are pastoring an international church while the lead pastor is on sabbatical.

The view from our Singapore window: a horizon of flats

At noon on Thursday in Singapore, it's 9pm on Wednesday, Seattle time. Our bodies feel the day/night shift, though traveling westward means less adjustment than traveling eastward. We have flown for a day and night - so hopefully our friends don't hold anything said in fatigue against us. haha

Claudia cooks a wonderful meal of chicken, veg, fruit, and rice. We also get to taste Brazilian-style pinto beans and another favorite, roasted pumpkin. It's a feast, a wholesome landing after airline food.

I nap while W takes public transport downtown. He hands off our passports to "the guy" who helps with our visas. It was nerve-wracking to be without passports, the first time we did this. Now, it's become routine.

And somehow, Claudia whips up another feast by evening. Their kiddos are adorable. They're also respectful, friendly and well-mannered. They head off to bed late (8:30) with minimal fuss.

Friday

Claudia takes the kids to school and rejoins us. Breakfast in Singapore ... what will it be? Roti parata of course, with curry gravy. 

Josue heads to work while W returns to the flat with us. He shows Claudia how to make a simple soft cheese with milk, lemon juice, and salt (or optional flavors). Claudia's Brazilian family owned a buffalo milk and cheese farm so she loves dairy: she adds another skill to her cooking.

I love the heat: 31oC by noon (91oF) and humid. I'm warming my bones in preparation for returning home. I am grateful for God's protection and provision so far.

My dear restless husband heads into town again. He has things to see and things to do. I stay behind to write, think, and pray. Claudia will pick me up when the children finish school and swimming this afternoon. We'll go downtown for supper together before Josue's meeting. Tomorrow morning, W and I are homeward bound.

My folks call on FaceTime - oh so good to see their faces again! Our daughter confirms she is back safely in Austin. As Julian of Norwich wrote: "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well." Thanks be to God.

Read more:

*The sun will no more be your light by day, nor will the brightness of the moon shine on you, for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end. Isaiah 60:19-20 NIV

*For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised. 2 Corinthians 5:14-15 ESV

*Jesus says, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” John 20:21 ESV

*The Lord is our judge, the Lord is our ruler, the Lord is our king; he will save us. Isaiah 33:22 ESV

*The Lord is faithful; he will strengthen you and guard you from the evil one. 2 Thessalonians 3:3 ESV

Moravian Prayer: Mighty God, thank you for the shelter of your love. Your grace surrounds us, keeping us safe, even though we know we don’t deserve it. Help us to share your love and mercy with all we meet this day. Amen.

*C.S. Lewis in Miracles: To shrink back from all that can be called Nature into negative spirituality is as if we ran away from horses instead of learning to ride. There is in our present pilgrim condition plenty of room (more room than most of us like) for abstinence and renunciation and mortifying our natural desires. But behind all 

asceticism the thought should be, ‘Who will trust us with the true wealth if we cannot be trusted even with the wealth that perishes?’ Who will trust me with a spiritual body if I cannot control even an earthly body? 

These small and perishable bodies we now have were given to us as ponies are given to schoolboys. We must learn to manage: not that we may some day be free of horses altogether but that some day we may ride bare-back, confident and rejoicing, those greater mounts, those winged, shining and world- shaking horses which perhaps even now expect us with impatience, pawing and snorting in the King’s stables. Not that the gallop would be of any value unless it were a gallop with the King; but how else— since He has retained His own charger—should we accompany Him?

The start of goodbyes

EASTER SUNDAY, 2016
This is one of my favorite days of the year, the joyful celebration of God's provision. I finish the Lenten blog with relief: it's a tough discipline, compounded this year with painting each day of prayers.

The youngest grandson, Isaac

We attend church with the family. The pastor encourages us to live in the faithfulness and love of God. Inspired, we eat lunch together at one of our favorite restaurants, Sichuanese Cuisine.

Our daughter arrived from Texas last night. The family is together - all the boys, their wives, and their sister. We include Lemuel, our nephew studying at Northwest U. He's never been to the Chinese restaurant. We devour 10 plates of chicken, beef, noodles, and rice.

The kids come back to the flat for crème brûlée and mango juice bars. Of course the grands get Easter baskets: trucks for Levi and princess jewelry for Kinsey.

Monday: my 60th birthday
Today we celebrate 2 birthdays with family and friends: Jonathan's (27) and mine (60). We run errands and then I lay low for most of the day. Periodically, I check Facetime as hundreds of wishes stream in from around the world. We are blessed!

At 5, we head to Third Place for supper from the various vendors around the Commons. My parents and brother meet us there, and friends start to arrive shortly after. Soon the room is full. Our daughters-in-love Melissa and Rebekah set up and clean up a party for about 60 people so it's a relaxing evening of visits for me.

What a delight to see our various groups of friends connecting and chatting together! (writers, university and ministry peers, girlfriends, W's coffee group, Jonathan's friends, etc.) Many know each other, but new connections always make my heart sing. We enjoy cakes and ice-cream (vanilla, plus maple nut ordered through Voula's restaurant - amazing!)

My mom has baked a Black Forest torte, her specialty. Fresh natural ingredients, lots of whipped cream and cherries, and deep chocolate cake. It's a family tradition that takes hours to prepare. She also brings Nanaimo bars, a Canadian and family favorite.

Guests arrive from Eastern Washington and around the Seattle area. I feel utterly honored by their presence. W prays a blessing over Jonathan and me, as well as our friends.

"Do you feel any trauma in entering this decade?" asks one friend. Nope. Every 20th birthday seems to be a special celebration. Dad sent me (and my mom) to visit my brother in London for my 40th birthday. I have very special memories of that trip. And I suspect this will be a highlight as well.

Levi with Grandpapa and Grandmama

Tuesday
The sun's out! My parents meet us for breakfast at the Woodmark Hotel's Beach Café. (Thanks to Norm and Carrie for this special treat.) Grandson Levi joins the fun, well-behaved and fascinated by Lake Washington's boats and the dogs walking along the beach trail.

We eat lunch at the Olive Garden with family and dear friends, Mel and Martha. "We thought we'd go somewhere that is not like the food you eat in Indonesia," they say. The salads are fresh - and as usual, there's far too much food.

It's a pleasure to relax with them in basement suite for the afternoon. Crème brûlée dessert caps off lunch - and makes us feel like we should have a nap!

Instead, we chat and get good advice. It's amazing to share married children with best friends who ... and very special that they have loved us enough to coach us and pray with us over the years. We make a quick trip to Frye's Electronics. Martha and I sip tea in the restaurant while the guys cruise "a store with nothing in it," according to my tastes. Of course, the men enjoy browsing all the technology and gear.

For supper, we meet our kids Jeremy and Rebekah at a Jewish deli. Ooooooh - the food! and the good company. More leftovers, though. Our small fridge is getting full - for the next few days, I must resist cooking so we can consume leftovers.

Mom sets a beautiful table

Wednesday
We get an early start, driving to Canada to visit my parents. Kirsten and her dog Zoe come along. While my folks and I visit over lunch, W and K zip an hour away to see his mom.

While Dad's in his violin workshop, Mom and I take Zoe (toy poodle) on a walk in the sunshine along the Hope River dike. The road of my teen years has been paved over as a walking trail. We meet neighbors, dogs, strangers ... all friendly and grateful for a warm, bright day.

"Even she couldn't make your $200
fine magically disappear."

The hilarious sign asking people to clean up after their animals reminds me I'm in Canada, where the humor leans more to British than American.

When W and K return, Kirsten chooses some giraffes she likes from a big collection of African art. Grandma promises "to put her name on them." The carved legs are too fragile to put into a suitcase. I choose a birthday gift as well, a pretty porcelain breakfast set.

Thursday
These are my last meetings with Kim, the Thursday morning group, and Jen (who graciously moved our normal visit from Wednesday to today.)

Four of six women who show up at Third Place Commons

Over the past weeks, these gals have filled my heart with friendship and wise advice for times when I may feel lonely in a country where my language and communication skills are still limited. How glad I am to have such faithful companions and great friends!

Dicks Burgers is a Seattle classic drive-in. W and I head over to Dick's for lunch. It's a tradition.

We have an appointment at the university, inquiring about internships. Does David know young people who might spend a few months serving in Bandung? Maybe so. There's time for a very short nap when we get home.

And then we're off to an adventure with two sets of friends. Verlon and Marilee Fosner are longtime friends who spearhead community gatherings around Seattle each week. Thursday night is Greenwood's community dinner - an excellent meal cooked by Upper Crust Catering, a food service with a big heart. The windows of the loft space where we eat are boarded up - casualties of the blast from a gas leak that rocked the neighborhood a few weeks ago.

The Bunda family joined us for a few months in Bandung, so they understand the wonderful country where we serve. Their kids pitch in to help dish up the meal. Trey holds tongs for bread with his left hand and a spoon for corn in his right. Kamaile hands out cherry cobbler desserts.

After dinner is cleaned up, we walk across the street, past the building leveled in the explosion. Newer windows of neighboring shops survived; those from 50 years ago shattered.

We share conversation, hot chocolate, and the free chocolate truffles for first-time visitors to the chocolate store. We pray over each other's requests and hug goodbye.

Then we drive home and fall into bed. Tired out! but happy.

Friday
It really is the last weekend? Wow. And the sun is out.

Our breakfast with Arlyn and Sharon is a blessing. They are enthusiastic encouragers. Sharon flies out of bed to meet (after our miscommunication that only the guys were getting together) - and is at the Pancake House in a flash.

Love you, Zahra!

Arlyn warns us in advance about big portions. Turns out, with a dish each, we have enough food - potatoes, pancakes, omelet, and Dutch babies - for lunch and supper! Reminds me of "Friends don't let friends ... eat too much."

We set them up with WhatsApp and W answers a few tech questions before we share the joy of living in Indonesia. It makes me homesick, thinking about Bandung.

Our next stop is to see dear friends of 27 years!, Sadri and Zahra. They came nearly 40 years ago from Iran. (We've been here over 30 years.) They've taught us about the graciousness of Persian culture. Zahra always reminds me of Queen Esher, who married a Persian king and earned a whole book in the Bible. Zahra has fixed a delicious pot of tea (sugar held between the teeth please) and brings fruit and pastry to the table. We haven't had apple turnovers in years - yum!

When we get home, we start to pack. We have a few more errands to run but mostly we're wrapping up life here, preparing to go home.

Read more:
*"The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation. He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior--from violent people you save me. I called to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and have been saved from my enemies. 2 Samuel 22:2-4 NIV

*The fool says in his heart, "There is no God." They are corrupt, and their ways are vile; there is no one who does good. God looks down from heaven on all mankind to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God. Everyone has turned away, all have become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one. Psalm 53:1-3 NIV

*For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. 2 Corinthians 5:21 ESV

*Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. Psalm 139:4 ESV

*When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Matthew 6:7–8 ESV

Moravian Prayer: Heavenly Father, you know our hearts and minds even better than we do. You understand our needs and you are there for us. Help us to express our love and thankfulness directly from the heart, unfiltered and true. In your name we pray. Amen.