Feeling welcome in Bhutan Pt 2

Traditional painting

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Everywhere you look, traditional paintings decorate the posts and window frames. Symbols and flowers brighten the buildings, railings, and walls throughout the town. The government encourages the preservation of old structures: most houses were built with rammed earth, though newer construction uses cement. Building remains in the old style of square walls and an open storage area under the gently sloped roofs.

I finally get a SIM card for the phone, and connection becomes easier. I get to call Waldemar back home. He sends pictures of guests at our place. They look warm.

True to her word, Dr. Debbie from Yale (Boston) meets at dinner with Tandin (a national working on his doctorate in the Philippines), her faculty mate, and me. We eat Thai food and enjoy lively conversation until 8 or 9pm.

It’s noisy tonight. The dogs are barking but people are on the streets under my window, roaming, drinking, and laughing. Apparently Wednesday and Saturday nights are the city’s party nights when friends meet up for dinner and hang out. I’m too tired to put in my earplugs but I know I’ll regret it in the morning. I give up on sleep about 4:30am.

Thursday

The Kingdom of Bhutan has never been colonized. King IV was 16 when his father died and he became king. Bhutan remained isolated from the outside world until King IV allowed access to the internet in 1999. 

"We never heard about WWII or other world events until then, just staying in our own country and history," explains my guide. When he was 58 (2008), the king abdicated in favor of his 29-year-old son (King V, who currently rules). Apparently, he lives a quiet secluded life in retirement. 

It is not uncommon to petition the current king by stopping the car when he's on his way to events. With only 750,000 people in the country and 100,000 in the capital city Thimphu, the Kingdom of Bhutan feels intimate and interpersonal.

I ask about vacations, celebrations, foods, culture … well, about everything that comes to mind. I’m curious about the people who love living in these beautiful mountains, how the men don’t freeze with their knee socks and bare legs, and how families make a living and get an education.

“We go south in the winter months, where it is very pleasant.” The guide tells me that they love the south's temperature: 12-16C/50-60F is ideal. (Brrrr.)

“The children can play outside and the monsoon rains of July and August are absent.” He asks if I like the crisp cold. I like it only if I am totally bundled up and on my way somewhere warm.

That red patch on the ground is paprika (red peppers),
drying in the sun and wind. Red peppers are in almost every dish.

In the evening, there's a special treat in store. Nengboi and I go for a traditional steam bath and sauna. It is so hot we sweat and sweat for over an hour. My skin feels newborn when we are done and I sleep like a (good) baby, too.

Friday

Today is a red light day: I find the heater switch and the red light goes on to heat my room. Though I’ve been turning the radiator dial to 25o, the room always feels cold at night (15C/50-55F). In the morning, I throw open the drapes so the sun streams in, warming the air. I’ve brought a hot water bottle, which I fill it with almost-boiling water and tuck into the bedding every night. When I slip into bed, the sheets and crisp white blanket are warm.

There’s a tub in my bathroom. What a pleasure: I take long soaks on 4 evenings, thawing my bones. What a contrast. When I'm home in Indonesia, our portable tub fills with green water (when we have water.) So this Bhutanese mineral water is utterly refreshing.

Construction and remodeling are everywhere.

"You can drink from the rivers," they tell me. "But we filter our water because the mineral content is too high for our health."

Today we’re celebrating the end of the week. A group of us hang out for lunch. Some around the table have been in a conference. They know each other well. There’s conversation and laughter. I enjoy the art and musical instruments hanging on the wall. In the evening, I read and edit until 2am. I’ll sleep in tomorrow morning.

Saturday

I have hung a “Do Not Disturb” sign on my door. I get a call at 7:00: Debbie is flying back to the USA and wants to leave a book for me at the reception desk. We’ll talk about it after I read it. It might be one for our Bandung book club, too. It’s called Being Wrong. (We think we’re right most of the time, in spite of evidence to the contrary.) 

A new friend drops off some reading at 8am. I get out of bed in my PJs, say a quick hi at the door, and stagger back to sleep. (Why did I read so late?!)

The hotel cleaning cart

At 9, the maid rings the bell. Where on earth is the “Do Not Disturb” sign? It's nowhere in sight when I get to the door. I give up. It’s time to get dressed and explore the city.

No exploration is complete without a street dog

Ethne Tours takes me up a mountain to Royal Thimphu College. The king (in his late 30s) and his queen (in her early 30s) are a beloved pair. They support education, encourage the well-being of their nation, and their picture hangs everywhere.

It’s a beautiful campus for 1000 students. With only 750,000 people in the country, each Bhutanese college is personal … and small. We have tea at the empty cafeteria – students are on break. Then we check out a property down the road for a few hours.

Prime view for a new statue

On another mountain across town sits an enormous golden Buddha statue A huge flat area of the mountaintop has been razed and leveled. The figure was commissioned by wealthy Singaporean Chinese. (How astonishing that Christianity, which first entered the country in the 700s, is considered an import, while this 5-year-old statue has become a national monument.) The golden image is visible from most places in Thimphu.

Last month, about 100,000 monks and others gathered for sit-ins. The pavement is striped with rows of clean (carpeted rows for sitting) and dark (foot-traffic between), marking their places.

I take a few pictures: the sheer height and bulk is astonishing. Under the unmoving figure is a large temple filled with golden statues, floral-painted pillars, scenic walls – wealth galore. The artwork celebrates the stories of Buddhism.

Devotees can buy little gold statues and have them put on ledges beside thousands of identical little gods. A monk is burning incense at a central altar covered in gold, with figures in various poses surrounded by golden pillars. There is no idea of a loving, living, or speaking God here: just a hopeful appeal to an impersonal universal force. On this mountain, the religion is symbolized by a statue that does not speak, move, or interact with humanity.

Buddhism is made appealing to the West as a religion of simplicity – the renunciation of passion, ego, and material wealth. We might be the victims of false advertising, though: the money poured into these silent relics, appeasing these mute effigies, is astronomical. Contributions are expected at all the holy sites to earn merit toward one’s next incarnation.

Flags with prayer words wave in the breeze

Standing in the shadow of the figure, I realize something awe-inspiring. Only the Christian God says, "Enough! I Am. Holy. Absolutely good. Completely just. Too great. So your efforts could never take away your sins or come close to my perfection."

Our good works cannot earn his favor or appease his wrath. But in Jesus, God declares, "I myself will reconcile us. My perfection will be applied to you and then you can draw near to me.”

Therefore, a Christian's good deeds are a response of gratitude. What a completely different way of looking at life and 'being good.' God who is Enough is also “God-with-us, on our behalf.” Our "thank you!" to God for his love and his kindness is sharing his generosity with others. My heart swells with gratitude and joy.

On the way back into town, we stop for supper at a Korean restaurant. I like Bhutanese food, but this is also delicious. The tenderloin strips and side dishes are tasty.

Modernism and tradition mix on the streets

Read more:

*There is a God in heaven who reveals mysteries. Daniel 2:28

*He is mindful of his covenant forever, of the word that he commanded, for a thousand generations. Psalm 105:8

*And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:6-7 KJV

*Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.” Luke 17:20-12

*Paul wrote: Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope. Romans 15:4

Moravian Prayer: O Key of David and Scepter of the House of Israel, who opens and no one shuts, who shuts and no one opens: Come and bring forth from prison the captives who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

O Adonai and leader of the house of Israel, who appeared to Moses in the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai: Come, and with your outstretched hand, redeem us. Amen.

-->

Far away, in another time and place ...

Traditional boots and shoes

Talk about going places you never expect to be! I just returned from 10 days in Bhutan. The scenery, vegetation, and dry climate resemble British Columbia or Washington State – or maybe even parts of Montana. Since I’m missing our family this Christmas, it is a treat at least to have a similar landscape around me.

I'll be blogging in three posts to make it easier for fellow adventurers to follow. Here's the first.

It takes 3 flights from Bandung: first, to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia (8 hr layover); second, to Bangkok, Thailand (7-hour layover); then to Paro, Bhutan (with a midway stop in India). Then it was another hour’s drive to the Bhutanese capital city of Thimphu. The brutal layovers and 24 hours of travel (coming and going) were determined by the flights booked in Bhutan. Next time, we’d choose a better itinerary.

On the first leg, I sit beside a proud papa and his 9-yr-old daughter. She’s the chess champion of Indonesia for her division, and the global champ for under 10 years. She buries her nose in a book, finishing the Disney tale on the flight. This is so rare: Indonesians are literate, but they are not readers. To see a youngster reading is a shock.

On the next flight, I sit beside a man who is struggling to believe. He has decided on science as his religion, and we talk about AI, transplants of organs and if (he wonders when) scientists will clone humans for body parts. He thinks the time is coming when we’ll transplant a head onto a younger body. I suggest there may be problems with body donors – even if someone wants to extend the life of their head, who would volunteer their body?

Malaysia airport: a mosque with people sitting in front,
and down the hall is a Christmas tree

I have a problem with his claim of science as ‘absolute truth.’ Many scientific truths of past generations have been disproven with new discoveries. Doesn’t it make more sense to have a Creator who delights in letting his creatures uncover what he already knows (absolute truth), bit by bit?

Debbie sits down beside me in Bangkok, taking the place of the gentleman who has moved down a few seats so I can lay down and fall asleep. I’m cold, which wakes me. Debbie and I start to chat: she and a colleague from Yale University’s Public Health Department are helping the Bhutan government set up public health metrics. We share the final two flights and agree to meet up this week.

Sunday, December 10

Touchdown Bhutan. It’s mid-morning and I’m exhausted. From Paro Airport, the roads wind around the sides of mountains. They’ve been upgraded to two lanes with a shoulder in some places. As in most Asian countries, whoever is on the road is “sort-of” on their side. Most of the time, the car drifts across the middle lane, avoiding people walking on the side and other unforeseen traffic hazards. Here we swerve around cattle, dogs, and the occasional parked car.

One day, we drive around a curve and find a huge yellow tarp sitting in the other lane: there’s a car underneath it and there are rocks from the hillside above scattered around it. Apparently, it just stopped and someone pulled a yellow cover over … and left.

But that comes later. Today, Ethne Tours is picking me up for lunch and some initial orientation. We drop by the local market, heaped with sun-dried peppers, local honey, and homemade cheeses. Oh my – I have to come back next weekend to get some for home. We have lunch and I’m finally dropped at the hotel mid-afternoon. I unpack, have supper, and then it’s off to bed. I’m not quite ready to sleep, but I fill my hot water bottle and tuck it in my bedding to warm up the bed. I climb in and read for a few hours.

I like dogs. And that’s a good thing. Dogs sun themselves on the sidewalks and in public courtyards during the day, trotting around the city. Bhutanese Buddhists believe the final reincarnation before becoming human is being a dog. So – in about the same number as the cats that roam Indonesia – dogs are everywhere. They’re friendly, in various states of health or mange. I’m told women earning religious merit feed them. (You never know who the dog is or will be in the next life.)

At night, packs of dogs roam the streets. In the past, tourists jogging with their youngsters have been attacked in the early morning hours. I hear yelping as the dogs protect their territories and scavenge for food. I like dogs – and don’t mind the barking and howling most of the night. It makes me happy to hear them as I’m missing Gypsy, our yard dog. I drift in and out of sleep.

Monday

The air is dry. My nose clogs with inner nosebleeds until it adjusts. The little bit of laundry I do is dry overnight. My skin needs moisturizer and sunblock against the intense light and dehydration.

It’s possible to dry things outside, either in the sun or shade, which we would never attempt in Indonesia. Red peppers dehydrate outside on mats. One of the specialty foods is dried meat. It can be hung outside from the clothesline for a few days, before being spiced and cooked with chilies.

The mornings are chilly. Some days there’s frost on the ground. As soon as the sun comes up after 7am, it starts to warm the ground and the air. You can see the progress of white shadow reappearing as bare ground. By afternoon it will be a balmy 18C/68F.

When the sun goes down, anywhere from 3:30-6pm, depending on the surrounding mountains, the cool air sweeps away the day’s promise. I wear gloves and a hat except in midday. My friend Martha has sent me black fitted “smart” gloves: I can use the phone without taking them off, which is great for taking photos.

 

Tuesday

The bells wake the dawn each morning. From every bridge and many trees, fabric banners and flags flutter – especially where wind whistles along the hillside or through the gorges between. Religion is part of every day’s sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch.

There is no apology; people are proud of being a religious nation. Conversion is forbidden and can bring a jail sentence. Happiness is not defined as freedom to choose here – that is a Christian concept of free will, practiced only in nations with core Christian values. Rather, happiness is the ability to fit in and submit to the culture and religion. (In that way, Bhutan is the “happiest” nation.) Disrespect of elders earns you 6 generations of curses.

A new friend, Nengboi, wraps me in a traditional hand-woven cotton skirt, pleating it across the front for modesty. It is held up by a woven band. Ooooh, that is tight (but the skirt doesn’t slip all day). The skirt, a silky pink jacket, and its black under-blouse were chosen for her by her husband of Nepali and Bhutanese fabrics. What an honor to wear it. We’re taking pictures with a group of Bhutanese who are in traditional dress. They’ve asked me to join them.

The government mandates traditional dress for any official business. Locals can’t enter government buildings without it. So the men and women are wrapped in plaid, stripes, and beautiful patterns. Of course the teenyboppers have leggings, jeans, trendy jackets, and T-shirts. Globalization began with the opening of the country to the outside, about 20 years ago.

In the evening, the couple tells me they’d like to gift me with this outfit. Seriously?! I’m stunned. It’s beautiful and expensive; their generosity is totally unexpected. I’m blown away. I can certainly wear it in intercultural settings, and when I do, I will remember them and pray for their well-being and good health.

Read more:

*Caleb said to Joshua, “My brothers who went up with me made the hearts of the people melt in fear. I, however, followed the Lord my God wholeheartedly.” Joshua 14:8

*Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed. Isaiah 54:4

*And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;  for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” 

And the child grew and became strong in spirit; and he lived in the wilderness until he appeared publicly to Israel. Luke 1:76-80   NIV

*Jesus said, “Stand firm, and you will win life.” Luke 12:19

*By faith Moses left Egypt, unafraid of the king’s anger; for he persevered as though he saw him who is invisible. Hebrews 11:27

Moravian Prayer: O Root of Jesse, who stands as an emblem of the people, before whom the mighty keep silence, and to whom the nations make their supplication: Come, deliver us and do not tarry. 

God of promise, God of possibilities, God of perseverance, help us to follow you boldly into the future you prepare for us, to go where you lead us, and to undertake the tasks you give to us. Let us know that you are always with us. Show us your glory. Amen.

Worth the wait

The week slips by in relationships and food shares.

In KL airport: a wall-to-wall sign for the nursing room
beside one of the mosques

Wednesday, 6 December: St. Nicolas Day and, 'It feels like Christmas.'
I think I'm saving time by having pizza delivered - and I've done enough cooking and hosting this week and. Nothing is certain: will it be ready at the right time? So W is a bit anxious about what will arrive when. We have someone delivering it in two shifts - the first 8 "1-meter pizza" (each delivered in 2 boxes) at 6pm and the second when he can get back down the hill at 6:20pm.

There are sOOOOso many boxes, and they're here on time. Some of the guys go out to help bring them into the house. They sit stacked and heaped on the stove while three of us cut the huge pieces in half and put them out. Everyone piles in to eat after we say grace at 6:30.

People keep coming. Probably 80 show up tonight. Cool!

The loveliest part for us is sharing our family traditions with our growing local "family." We have a motto at movie night: "First time, you're a guest. Second time, you're friends. Third time, you're family!"

We overhear the students tell each other, "Today is my third time. I'M FAMILY!" It's a big deal. And they give us a hug - I'm their mom from here on in. They're more shy with W, but they swarm him to talk. We've really grown to love them and taken them into our hearts.

After supper, we read the Christmas story from Matthew and Luke. My friend wrote an 11-part script that we've shared with family and friends since the 90s. We skip the carols between (for example, the Magi reading is in 2 parts, followed by We Three Kings). We 'll sing the carols and do the readings again at our open house on Christmas Day. Today, we pass out the script and whoever wants a part reads it aloud.

Then we watch Miracle on 34th Street and talk about what we believe after the fairytales of our childhood are over. It's a lively bunch tonight. Everyone is in a festive mood - some are graduating in a week or two, and except for the high school kids, are done with projects and exams.

Dessert at intermission? IbuA has been baking each time she's been here this month. She puts the last cookies from the freezer onto two trays. She's set them out for study groups, our team Thanksgiving, our Thanksgiving brunch, and everything between.

"Ibu, that's all. I think I have to bake some more," she says. Earlier today, she made a double recipe of peanut butter cookies. Good thing! All but a dozen (of everything) is eaten tonight.

Later, when the movie is over and conversations are in full swing, I look around the room. What a wonderful mix! Old and young, all faiths and atheist, from many islands of Indonesia, from Australia, USA, Iran, Europe, Philippines, Thailand, Malasia, Uganda, China, Singapore ... we're all talking, laughing, and thinking aloud together.

The last ones wave goodbye just before midnight. W and I lock up and fall into bed. He's dead asleep - but it takes me an hour or two to unwind.

Thursday
I'm supposed to be studying. But I can hardly think. I catch up on other things, set the house in order with W and the helper - who comes an hour later than usual because of last night's late hour - starts to bake.

Then she sits down to cut 2 huge bunches of bananas for the freezer (we used up our frozen mango with fresh papaya, bananas, apples, and pears with yoghurt and a can of fruit cocktail to augment the baking). She shakes her head, "I feel like I'm a bakery worker, but I love baking." She cools them and then fills three square Tupperwares with cookies, storing them in the fridge.

I hear our Roomba 650 buzzing around. When it stops, I plug it back into the charger and an hour later send it back out. It has been a lifesaver. W initially questioned why we needed an auto vacuum when a helper would sweep and mop every time she came. The Roomba used up a lot of suitcase space, which was tight on that trip.

But it zooms around automatically once a day and makes 4-5 rounds after company. Each time it fills with lint, grit, and dust blown in by the wind and tracked in by us and our friends. No one wears outdoor shoes in the house. A shoe stand full of flip-flops stands at the entry to the porch and we wash them after use - but ... yeah. I'm glad to have the vacuum. Today I thank God again for its inventors.

I'll have real Chinese dumplings in Malasya

Friday
Finally, I finish reworking next week's course, pack, and get ready to be on the road. Well, in the air. W notices that the first flight has been delayed by two hours. He starts to rework my flights - the later one won't give me enough time, but the airline says, "Impossible," until they work it out. Thanks, hon.

In Malaysia, my first stop, I need 3-4 hours to get through immigration, pick up my luggage, check in and drop luggage, then go through immigration. I don't have a connecting flight there or in Thailand. I'll have a 3-hour flight, an 8-hour layover before another short flight with a 7-hour layover, before two more flights.

It's going to be a brutal 24 hours in airports and on 4 airplanes. I'll arrive Sunday morning. I hope no one expects me to be perky and sweet.

Saturday
We're on our way to the airport by 7am. W and I have a quick breakfast across the street from the terminal. Then he heads home and I swipe my suitcase through the scanner and go to check in.

The plane leaves at 10, with no hitches. I'm sitting beside the sweetest nine-year-old and her dad. We'll connect again in Bandung, from where she flies to all kinds of competitions. "She doesn't especially like chess, but she loves to compete," her dad explains. She loves spelling bees, art, and many other things. And she loves reading.

Cheering on a young chess champion

She's the #1 Indonesian chess champ for her age group, and #1 in "under 10" in the world. While her dad and I discuss the existence of a Creator, the value of science, cloning, artificial intelligence, and logic, she reads a whole book. Reading for pleasure is unusual in a country where almost no one picks up a book voluntarily. (It's a literate but oral culture). I love her already.

The lounge is on the other side of security. The check-in counter is closed until 3 hours before the flight. So I eat lunch noodles at one place and dumplings - fantastic - in another. For 4 hours (after 2 in the immigration line and getting my luggage), I sit around. My body is weary but let's see what happens. These adventures are a lot of wait wait sit stand sit wait - between the good stuff.

Read more:
*Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. Psalm 51:12

*The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” Luke 17:5

Moravian Prayer: God of light, illuminate our lives at this darkest time of year. Quell our doubts, calm our fears, relieve our sadness. Restore our joys and let us share them with the world. Amen.

Advent blessings

It feels like Advent is truly here. This time of anticipation, when each day we yearn to celebrate Christ's birth, is a special time of year for me.

A November guest from the USA brought 2 packs of clear ornaments. **If you are traveling to someone who lives abroad, I'd encourage you to ask if there's something that you could bring to make their heart sing.** When she asked, I suggested clear ornaments and Kraft caramels. (Thanks, dear friend! I'm enjoying the globes every Advent day and looking forward to making homemade nut and caramel Turtles for Christmas.)

Inside each globe, I put a number and a verse. Day by day, I'm adding something "Christmas-y" before hanging it on the tree. Twinkle lights glow under the ornaments in an old IKEA tin. The light reminds me of God's love and forethought. Oh my, what kindness and perfect planning, to make it possible for God to live among us.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Waldemar has returned from Kuching, Malaysia. His +40 students were enthusiastic in the classroom as well as taking him for meals and around the city. As usual, he also explored the surroundings on his own. He comes back exclaiming about the nice people he met, and the modern amenities, clean streets, and cars that drive in their lanes.

The neighborhood masseuse calls: any chance that we would be willing to have a massage? She needs the money for the holiday this weekend.

"Oh yes, please," we say. At $15 for 2 hours, she is a lifesaver, unlocking muscles tense from travel and study. She comes to the house and works her magic.

We have a few people stop by - one for advice, another for resources, and still another wants company.

Friday
The logistics for life here are complicated. The flow is flexible because every month has multiple holidays. Births, weddings, and funerals (done within 24 hours of death) are communal events, so you can't count on someone being at their job or post.

Today is a national holiday to commemorate Muhammad's birthday. That means coming and going, that Jakartans are here a day early for the long weekend, and families are visiting each other. Many helpers have a day off so the neighborhood houses are mostly quiet.

We relish the empty house. We even have water for showers part of the day. Bliss.

Saturday
The day hurries by in a blur of activity. We are baking pastries and pumpkin pies for tomorrow and cleaning the house. Our 2 1/2-week guest has departed: the room is turned over and aired, the kitchen and fridge emptied, and the floors washed. As soon as the bedding dries on the laundry racks, it is ironed, killing whatever bugs have landed on the rooftop. Then the room is restored for the next visitor.

Last night, I drifted into sleep with the smell of my Grandma's house around me. She's been dead for decades, but the smell brings back many memories.

Ready for some artwork

It's the first time I'm using the white coverlet I brought here in my suitcase. It is so old that the fabric-covered buttons have only a few shreds of fabric left on them. The family smell lingers in this crisp, perfectly ironed damask fabric. Soft. The pure cotton is so soft from many washings. I bet my mom washed and ironed it - because some of the fragrance is from her linen closet. Clean and sweet.

The first time I'll wash the cover here, the smell may dissipate. There will probably be wrinkles because it will be completely dried by the wind on the rooftop before it is pressed by the iron. We don't have a clothes dryer and don't need one. The air whips through the clothing and bedding and takes all the moisture away.

So I inhale, drift off with happy memories, and stay fast asleep until morning.

Sunday
It's the first Sunday of Advent. I've made a 24-day outline to paint or draw this month. (Feel free to print out the photo for your own art. (If you do, I'd love to see it when you're done!) I've pulled out the finished and framed marker-medium page from Advent 2016, and hung it in my office for inspiration. The tree is up and decorated.


It's a big day for the team. 45 people are joining us today for a Thanksgiving brunch at the Bamboo Shack. Alice, who sent the invitation for us, closed the guest list but there's a healthy waiting list.

We leave the house at 8. W is driving but the traffic is surprisingly light - the back of the car is loaded with a sound system, cheese rolls and pumpkin pies, and more.

We are grateful to God for his blessings, so this is our chance to share our gratitude with others. The food is good, the program is short but well-thought out, and the table talk centers around being thankful and giving back to others.

Yay - the weather is good and nearly everyone shows up within an hour of the set time. Every member of the IESBandung team takes part: DrH welcomes everyone and prays over the food.

Claudia, who has designed the decor and managed the food service, speaks briefly about a woman who offers her son to God, in return for an end to her barrenness. (Read Hannah's fascinating story in 1 Samuel 1-3.)

Waldemar talks about the command God gives most in scripture: to be happy. It's said in various ways: "Be blessed, be joyful, abound in hope," etc.

Josue, a general go-for helper like me, adds a short summary and a closing prayer. And then the table talk starts. The room is buzzing for a few hours.

Claudia has put a quote about thankfulness at each place-setting. We write or draw something we are grateful for on a little card and use little clothespins to post them on strings hung at the entrances.

The cards make a great backdrop for the obligatory selfies (an Indonesian "must," no matter what the event.)

The best "Thank You!" card on each string gets a prize = the framed quote hung at the end of the rope. We take group pictures and are done at 2:00.

Monday
W and I are in a meeting online at 7am. At 8:30, we hear the gate bell ring.

Zelli has arrived. He's become our Monday right hand: he starts setting up the tables and chairs at 8:30 or 9am, before our large group arrives. He takes the metal wind chimes down as well. Often, a sturdy breeze whips up the valley midmorning: then the chimes ring so loudly that they drown out whoever is speaking. The bamboo chimes continue to clack as the wind arrives.

The cages for the birds stay put. The two canaries provide a trilled backdrop, singing very loudly in accompaniment to certain voices.

It's a sprint for me, trying to get things ready. The helper is volunteering at a neighborhood preschool clinic, as she does once a month. So I fill 3 big teapots with tea and put cookies and fruit bread (baked by a friend) on 3 large trays.

About noon, study participants often go off to lunch together. The IESBandung team heads upstairs to the conference table for lunch and our weekly meeting. We cherish this time together. This week, we discuss what went well yesterday and how we can improve our serve.

Tuesday
It's supposed to be our day off. Um, ok. Last week we studied two passages of scripture that happened to be about Sabbath and resting. We agreed it was a good - and a God - idea.

However, W is doing receipts and paperwork. I'm rewriting the course I'll teach next week in Bhutan. We have to buy supplies for tomorrow's movie night. Maybe we can combine the errand run with our scheduled date later in the day? Breathe. Relax. GO!

I love the fresh green of December! Rainy season brings an explosion of plant growth. There's a steady clip-clip of shears outside my office. The gardener is chopping back hedges, which have grown a foot since the last time he cut them. He finds some avocados while working in the neighbor's yard.

He already scrubbed the slippery algae off the driveway - it smelled like an aquarium cleanup for about 2 hours. He won't have time to mow the 8" lawn until next week. Hiring someone for yard work once a week is barely enough to keep the jungle at bay.

Back in the USA, home help is an unthinkable luxury. Realistically, few office workers or managers clean their own offices, public spaces, or office landscapes. Here, we live downstairs but most of our space is used for work and guest space. (Since we work from home, we don't have to rent offices or commute to town. Yay.)

Inside, the helper is busy sweeping and mopping the living room, kitchen, and porch, anticipating a sprawl of people on the floors. She fills the house with baking smells from 200 cheese balls and 2 cakes, before cooking a rice and chicken lunch for everyone. (A meal for 6 costs about $8, plus her wage.)

We drop by the local pizzeria: I'm not cooking the main meal tomorrow - we order a lot of meter-long pizzas for movie night. Tomorrow is another day.

Read more:
*Moses said, “Take to heart all the words that I am giving in witness against you today. This is no trifling matter for you, but rather your very life.” Deuteronomy 32:46, 27

*See, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered. Isaiah 66:17

*There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. John 1:6, 8

*Jesus said, “Be like those who are waiting for their master.” Luke 12:36

Moravian Prayer: God of revelation, make us attentive to those whom you send as heralds. May we receive their words, respond to their proclamation, and follow their admonitions, that we may find you and receive abundant life.

God of the new, teach us the ways of renewal. Grant us a new start in this season of waiting for the Christ. May we, through him, make all things new in the world you have entrusted to us. Amen.

Of lizard poop, roaches, and cold showers

Stock photo of a dead roach

The silky swish across my ankle at midnight shouldn't be fabric: I'm wearing shorts in the tropical heat. So I switch on my cellphone light - and yeah, that's a +2" cockroach scurrying away under the bathroom storage cart.

Instead of screaming, I heave a sigh of relief. Thank you, God - it's running away, not coming toward me. I wash my hands and go back to bed.

While W was gone last week, there was not a single roach in sight. The same thing happened when he left last time. (The first morning he was back, an ant-covered roach lay on its back, feet kicking, in the shower. W disposed of it quickly. My hero.)

Stock photo, but we swept hundreds of dead ants
from the downstairs bathroom yesterday

When he travels to teach, my dear husband prays God's covering over me, our parade of visitors, the house and car, our work, and those we love. And somehow, God protects everyone and everything from harm and keeps those ugly critters away. We still have mass invasions of ants and the occasional rat or mouse. But however it happens, I see no roaches until he's back. So I thank God for his mercy when I see that first roach. Even when it's just run over my foot in the dark.

This past week, our guest noted the deprivation of hot water (= none for her showers all week). The fix is unique to each house, acquired over many experiments. Here, we turn on both water pumps to suck water into the reservoir tanks and pump them into our bathrooms. The squeal of the pumps may or may not come on until the initial sitting water in the pipes is expressed or drizzled out.

Every "bit of normal" is normally a "bit of extra" work

Sometimes - but not always - turning on the pumps means enough water pressure for the gas spot heater to click on. Even when there is water, you have about 2 minutes. Then the uneven water flow turns off the heater and you have to restart the process. If there's no water, you get dressed and try again later.

Filtering our water (and the covered
drinking water to prevent algae). Note, on
 the left, the plastic pipe for city water

Good thing we use bottled drinking water, though if we forget to clean the filter every week, it clogs and our supply is limited. We listen for that steady drip. drip. drip. drip to refill the 5-gallon bottles used for brushing teeth, washing food, making tea, and cooking. The other day, I saw the helper rinsing the rice with river water (filtered by the city before reaching our main house system, mind you) and I think that's how we're acquiring some immunity to stomach bugs.

Living here, you become desensitized to an ongoing variety of daily - shall we say, surprises? When we are back in the West, or at a hotel during transit, we stand under the hot flow and thank God for his blessings. A whole shower of hot water. Wow - it's not taken for granted.

And we're not complaining. We love it here, as you can tell from what I usually write.

Western visitors come expecting things to be different from home. But they enter our house with its old teak trim, the big meeting rooms where we host events, and the wide marble tile floors installed by the original wealthy family more than 60 years ago. The walls are solid concrete.

Spacious ... until the furniture is moved for 70 guests,
who sit on the floor, on pillows, and on the furniture

Somehow that's seductive and their expectations rise. The house looks like luxury, compared to the wooden structures and laminate floors of America. I'm not a shopper, but 50-90% off sales found me when we needed bedding, furniture, and dishes. (Thank you, God!) I sewed slipcovers and pillowcases to make the spaces feel homey.

However, by the time visitors stay a few days, they begin to experience the shock of real life in Indonesia. In our neighborhoods, water comes and goes, electricity flickers on and off, and traffic is so bad that it can take 3 hours for a 15-minute drive.

In the house, the ants, rats, flies, and roaches wage unceasing war on our food. Termites fight the spray to eat the wood trim. The fruit bats cling to the rafters until they peep peep peep on their way to eat the fruit in the yard. (Oh no, I was watching that papaya ripen and now it has a big hole torn in it. Toss.)

Weekend market chickens - @80o for 2 hours so far

We do love our life here - and mostly I write about that. But maybe, once in a while, it's good to admit that under the surface of an ongoing adventure of faith, we get homesick. We miss our grandchildren, parents, and children. Especially during the holidays when friends post pictures of family gatherings and church get-togethers. We sigh when parts of the modern life we grew up with disappear for a night or a week or forever.

Behind the scenes, we work hard, especially when we have new courses to prepare or events to host. It takes a few days of cooking to get food ready for our monthly movie nights. For a house manager raised by a German mother, it's an ongoing battle for clean bedding, floors, and walls. (Lizard poop dries up and sweeps right off, thankfully.) The yard sheds leaves onto the porch, rainy season turns everything to mud, and plants grow wild ... all year long.

When we fly off to some exotic destination, our friends sigh with envy. "We've always wanted to visit Bhutan / the Philippines / Singapore / Thailand ..."

Meanwhile, we've dragged our carry-on luggage down a flight of broken stairs and walked a city block or further along (and then across) the taxiway with jets blasting by (earplugs are our friends)  ... just to get to the stairs of our plane. Up we go.

Waiting for a jet to pass so we can cross to the terminal

Boarding may have been delayed an hour or more because the incoming flights are late. The planes can be old and a bit stinky, and there's usually one flight option at a time. There's rarely a first or business class, even if we could afford it with travel miles.

When we return to our city, sprawled across the valleys between tall mountains, we are tired and happy to be coming home. Still, our plane may circle over the city because of storms. We may have to make so many turns that the air traffic controllers divert us to refuel in another city before we return for a landing: thunderstorms are too dangerous to fly through and wind gusts make the runway treacherous for takeoff and touchdown.

I won't mention much about the promises kept and revised. About permissions given and withdrawn. How, "let's start breakfast at 9:00am" means people may be on the porch at 7:30am, wanting to hang out as we prepare. I'm scatterbrained and easily distracted: for big events, I have to work with a list and a timeline. (Oh oh. Hold those loosely.) Some guests may not arrive until 10:30 because they've met someone along the way and the chat took longer than expected.

Still moving: it's a good day

When we are stuck in traffic, it's hard for W not to feel anxious at "not showing up when we're supposed to." However, our Indonesian friends shrug off the half-hour delay and greet us warmly: "Come sit here. We're so happy you came."

Our conference session - carefully prepared over weeks - may be cut in half (spontaneously, as we stand at the mike) because the conference started late and the dances, speeches, and photos at the beginning ran long.

It's all part of this crazy, high-alert, and marvelous life abroad. Please pray for us as Christmas and New Years approach, would you? And we'll happily keep you posted about how privileged we feel to be called to serve across cultures. Thanks.

What would be the hardest part for you in crossing culture and living here for the next 10 years?

Read more:
*Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out. Proverbs 10:9 NIV

*Be very careful, therefore, to love the Lord your God. Joshua 23:11

*The pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, and on them he has set the world. 1 Samuel 2:8

*God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. 1 John 4:16

*God appointed a Son (Jesus) heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. Hebrews 1:2-3

Moravian Prayer: Lord of all creation, you hold the whole world in your hands. We give you thanks for the teaching of your Son, Jesus, who sustains us and brings clarity to how we should live our lives. 

God of compassion, if we truly love you we will feed your sheep. Grant us the strength to love and serve our friends as well as our enemies so that we will live in the warmth of your love. Amen.