KCAB NI GNOK GNOH

I am back in Hong Kong, another lengthy layover. But I seem to be doing everything in reverse. I sat at this exact same computer almost 6 months ago after a long flight from San Francisco and typed a blog entry before meeting my friend Gregory and seeing a bit of the city. Today, I have seen a bit of the city and am now at the computer and then headed for my long flight to San Francisco. For some reason I find it extremely satisfying to be retracing my steps.

Well, the last entry didn't go so well. I am going to try to rewrite as naturally as I can the entry I created a week ago and subsequently deleted. There is so much to say about my experiences, and I intend to use most of the upcoming 14 hour flight to try to recount all that transpired over the last 6 months (most of it is extensively recorded in my journals, but in preparation for the strange transition I am making back into "normal" life I feel prompted to relive it and rewrite it all one more time :) I can't even begin to retell all that happened on outreach, especially because there is a fifteen minute limit to these computers.

But there were a couple stories and a some thoughts I wanted to share.

One highlight was the time I ate chicken head. I thought it was a leg. Until the host started rattling off in Bahasa Indonesia and the only thing I could catch were the words "kepala" and "ayam" which I unfortunately understood to mean head and chicken respectively. I tried to pretend in my own head that I didn't understand. But she persisted. She really wanted to know whether I liked the chicken head or not, so she asked the translator to ask me. When he said in Bahasa "no, she doesn't know, let's not tell her, it's better that way" I could no longer feign ignorance. I looked down at my plate and sure enought there was the place where the eye ball used to be and there were the neck muscles and part of the beak. I will never look at a chicken the same way again.

Another highlight of outreach was Senter Klas, the dutch holliday where a big, jolly, old fellow comes in a suit in the middle of the night and leaves kids presents. No, this is nothing like Christmas I am assured because unlike Santa Claus, Senter Klas deposits gifts in shoes not stockings and because instead of coal if you are naughty, Senter Klas's assistant will come and take you away in the middle of night to Spain for a whole year. I don't know what the Spanish did to the Dutch that was so bad that a year spent there is considered punishment rather than a vacation. Anyway, we got gifts in our shoes and we each wrote a poem for another person on our team, like Senter Klas does (another clear distinction between the big bellied holiday heroes), and read them out loud in the morning. To use my friend Amanda's favorite word: it was "precious."

On the serious side, it is times like the last three months that I really appreciate the education I got in sociology. Indonesia is a great place full of incredible people. It seemed the worse off people were economically the more hospitable, loving, and generous they were. While some were reserved, the vast majority welcomed us into their homes and yes, many invited us into their hearts. We developed relationship with people, which proved to be of more worth to many than gold, literally. Not just for us, but for them as well. Several people commented on the fact that they had seem many "bule" (foreigners) come in before. They drop off food or try to start a service project and then leave as quick as they can. But not us, they said, we kept coming, not just to give them something but to know them. Many couldn't understand why. Why would we have interest in them? That, we quickly discovered, would be our main "mission" in the slums of Jakarta. Everywhere we went they called us beautiful. It was a nice compliment we akwardly accepted at first. But when women started asking us to pray for their babies to be born looking like us a huge flag went up. It was then that we realized what they meant by "you are beautiful" was also "we are ugly." More and more we tried to show people and tell people of the value they have, their beauty and worth, not just in our eyes but in God's eyes, even if the whole world would tell them otherwise. I learned alot more about poverty in the last three months. Sociology at Cal taught me unbelievable things about the way the world is structured, how poverty happens, and how inequality is perpetuated and exacerbated along racial lines. What I learned in school helped me to explain to the wealthier Chinese-Indonesians why people in the slums are not lazy, not less. And it gave a voice to those afflicted by Indonesia's racial economic system. But with all that I learned at Cal I did not understand till recently that poverty is not just material, not just physical but spiritual also. Poverty doesn't only cause empty bellies, it empties people's souls. The people we met had been taught all of their lives by all spheres of society that they were ugly, valueless and meaningless. That is a kind of poverty and lack that clearly affects quality of life. I also discovered that it affects the material as well. Many of the people we interacted with, spent time with, prayed for started looking for jobs for the first time while we were there. Sometimes poverty is caused, or worsened, by hopelessness and fatalism, and feelings of worthlessness. Poverty is not only material. Nor is the solution. Unfortunately we had a church back out of slum adoption because of concerns over the world economy. It was such a sad day. The lie that money solves everything paralyzed a group of people that had the potential to continue what we had been doing for the previous eleven weeks (without a penny). I don't know if I am doing a very good job trying to articulate this, I hope I am making some sense. What I learned is that the problem isn't only material nor is the solution purely material. If we want to address poverty, we have to recognize and address all the needs, not just some. Without hope, faith and love the material will never be enough. I wish there was more we could have done, but I know we did alot. And I know it is not over. This is the first of many experiences in the world's most desperate places. It's where God's heart is. And now, it is where mine is, too.

Fresh Air, Ozone-Free

I am back in Australia. So sorry that it has been a MONTH since I last wrote. The internet situation in Jakarta was dire, and only got worse as outreach continued.



I am sitting in a pleasant cafe in Perth, enjoying my Early Grey and the soft breeze and pleasant smells. I haven't really enjoyed breathing for the last eleven weeks. The air here is so delicious.


Wow... I just wrote a huge entry and spent nearly two hours writing and editing it. And it got deleted somehow. I am very sad right now... will try to rewrite it later... may not happen till I get to the states again... :(

Fire drills, Jellyfish, and Chicken Feet

I am using my friend's laptop right now to write this.  What an absolute pleasure. Someday I will have this luxury. 

I am in Bandung. One of my closest friends from training phase lives here and me and another friend got to come along for our free day and enjoy her home, her family and her hometown.  I thought this would be an exotic mini vacation, but I pretty much traded Jakarta malls for hers.  But it is really nice to be in a home and her family is beyond kind.    They took us out to dim sum this morning, which was great!! Dim sum in southeast asia, what could be better.  You have to take advantage of every chance right?  So I tried chicken feet and jellyfish.  This is remarkable considering I am the same person whose mother serenaded her as a child singing "give food a chance!"  Then I got to try jackfruit and snackfruit.  No kidding. Rhyming completely random. They were yummy, too.  I oughta be more adventurous.  I will be more adventurous from now on.   I am far too cautious in life.  :)  It's a good thing my mom doesn't read this blog. Ha. 

In other exciting news, our apartment had a fire drill yesterday. You know, like the kind they organize in elementary schools at the beginning of the year? Yeah, one of those.  And they don't play around.  They stopped the elevators and everything.  We had to take the stairs down from the 27th floor, which is actually only like 20 flights because of the whole missing floors phenomenon.  But still, our calves are still hurting.  But it was definitely worth it.  We didn't just have to leave the building and stand out in the sun, oh no! like I said, they take it seriously.  They had a little "evacuation area" set up in the parking lot, a beautiful frilly red and white awning, and rows and rows of fold up chairs.  We all took our places and waited for further instruction in a language we don't understand.  There was very little space between rows and the lack of leg room reminded me immediately of an airplane ride.  As soon as I thought this, as if on cue, they started handing out snack boxes! I kid you not!  We had rice and a pastry and water.  Mmmm.  Then came the in-flight entertainment portion.  They stood in front of us and explained, still in a language I don't understand, how to use a fire extinguisher.  Awesome. Wait, it gets better.  After explaining, they took out a large tin garbage can and started a fire in it (never thought you'd see a fire started rather than being put out during a fire drill!) and then allowed people in the audience to practice putting it out. This was a great idea I thought, except for the fact that the chairs were set up down wind and we were all soon inhaling and coughing up fire extinguisher powder.  But the show must go on!! Soon they were building an even bigger fire and getting out the big hose. This was truly the climactic part of the presentation... until they were unable to get the hose working.  About ten minutes later an anticlimactic spurt of water came out and put out the flames. We all cheered and then rebuckled our seatbelts as we prepared to land.

Things are strange here.  I find it highly entertaining. 

More news from the slums next week... 

Good News

Yea! Breakthrough. Can't write much, but just wanted to share that we have seen great exciting progress here... Two churches have agreed to each adopt a slum community. This means they are committing to two years of involvement- spending time in the community, building relationships, trying to assess the greatest needs of the community, trying to meet those needs as well as teaching the people how to meet their needs themselves (empowerment/teaching skills/social networking etc). I love the vision of slum adoption, it is amazing what God can do through it. It has the potential to seriously meet physical, social, spiritual, mental and psychological needs. I am such a fan.

This will mean a much busier schedule, so keep me in your thoughts and prayers.

Also, in follow up with Jantik- new mother. I have it on my heart to fundraise money for their hospital bill and to possibly buy them a new mattress- which I found out would only cost about $100-150 USD. Keep this in your thoughts and prayers.

until my next rushed entry hopefully a week from now...

thanks faithful readers!

Growing Gap

I spend most of my times here in the slums. Let me share a bit with you about what it is like and who I have been meeting.

I have done some traveling in my day, but let me tell you I have never seen this big of a contrast between the rich and the poor. Nor have I ever seen it in such proximity- what I mean is that the slums border the richest neighborhoods here. Yards, literally, separate one-room wooden shacks from mansions bigger than the ones you see along the Lake Michigan shore in Evanston. Many of the people in the slums have come to the city from the countryside in search of work, the grand life that city jobs provide. Unable to find jobs and unable to raise enough money to return home they end up living in these slums. The slums by the way are mostly illegal lands that the government threatens to bulldoze any minute while the people living in these awful spaces actually pay rent. Speaking of injustices, the corruption is so bad here that many teachers actually bribe the parents- if the parents want to see their children move to the next grade they have to pay the teacher. Most families in the slums cannot afford school past junior high. Yet every family I talk to emphasizes the importance of education, these parents starve so that their kids can go to school. From the information I've gathered I think it costs less than $100USD a month for a good education, but this sum is way way too high for these families to pay.

Just one quick introduction. I have been visiting a beautiful woman named Jantik. She just gave birth to her first baby, who they named Jordan. They are smiling and happy and so glad to have this little blessing. We gave her some nutritious milk mix for her to drink while she is breast feeding. Unfortunately she had to have last minute c-section and owes the hospital $500. This doesn't sound like much to us, but it is a huge debt. They have no way of paying it. I would also love to see them own a bed, or at least a mattress. They sleep on the floor and own two pillows. My heart's desire is for them to have something soft to sleep on with their baby. Praying into how these needs can be met.

There is so much need.... I am glad I am here. I am glad I am doing what I am doing. It is easy to get overwhelmed. Again, I remind myself: one person at a time. One at a time.

Finally in the hot spot

It's hot here. And the food is spicy. Mmmmmmm. It's times like these that I am really grateful for the part of my upbringing that included annual trips to tropical Mexico. I am adapting remarkably well.

This place definitely is foreign. The buildings are missing floors because certain numbers are bad luck. The highways don't have lanes. The whole city shuts down for a couple days for Eid - the end of Ramadan celebration. There are no intersections or crosswalks. On most roads, if you want to turn across traffic you must find an opportunity to chuck a U-ey and then drive back a distance to the road you wanted to go down, resulting in repetitive turn arounds- back and forth, and back and forth. Al Gore would certainly find flaws in this system. At first we thought the taxis were trying to cheat us.. or severely confused. But then we understood that's just how the roads are. Trying to cross the street involves the wave of your hand and a prayer that you make it across alive. You can't wait till there is a break in traffic, or that the cars stop or slow down on their own, of you'll never cross the street. Seriously.

But surprisingly, I don't feel foreign here. Except for the constant reminders from the people -"buleh! buleh!" (westerner) they shout- I feel almost at home here. Ok, the language barrier is a bit of a reminder, too. But the point is I feel good here. It is tough being in the slums here though. There is nothing normal about that. People live in one room homes with no furniture, atop wooden piers that are constructed above highly polluted and littered water. They live next to dumps and among the dead rats and dead cats. The first family I interacted with was a couple who had lost their five year old daughter a couple months ago. She became sick and they took her to the better hospital but found out it they could not afford it. By the time they arrived at the public hospital she was already dead. It is difficult to sit there and listen, knowing that just outside this slum there is a HUGE megamall where people go every day to spend hundreds of dollars. It is difficult to try to explain why I believe in a God that is good. Most of all it is difficult to know that most likely, no matter what I do in these ten weeks I will not be able to bring her out of poverty, and I certainly won't be able to undo the injustice that cost her her child's life. But the trick to this do-gooder thing is to not fall under the same spirits that afflict those you've come to serve. If I give in to hopelessness, then this trip is finished. The key is to remember that one person helping one person can change the world... and that no matter how big the situation, my God is bigger.

Another departure....

So... I will be leaving in eight days... to a place unlike any other I have been to. I am nervous and excited and overwhelmed by the preparation process. There is alot to do right now.

I may not be able to write again for a while, because I am not sure what the schedule and internet cafe options will be like once I am there (sorry faithful followers). But I will fill you in on the most recent news and just hope you don't suffer too much from eager anticipation till my next entry. I am being really sarcastic now given the fact that I think my readership has plummeted recently to just two.

Fun story: here on base they do birthday tables almost every night. They are real fancy, have lots of sweets and snacks, a table cloth, candles, napkins (I've already mentioned that we use our jeans for napkins here right?), cordial (kinda like pop?) and a cake after dinner. Hospo (hospitality crew) does all the set up and preparation and everything. This is all great and exciting except when you don't have a birthday during your stay here and haven't managed (despite all your selfish attempts) to make any friends with birthdays during these months. It's very sad. So my clever friends and I decided to make our own fake birthday table. We put out a sheet as a table cloth, bought our own sweets and cake, made little name tags and used an old board game as a center piece. Instead of setting it up in the center of the room where the birthday tables usually are, we had ours in a random corner. It was quite a hit. We got many confused reactions and quite a few laughs. I love the creativity and randomness of my friends here.

Another fun event: "commissioning night." It's a little ceremony to honor the people that will be leaving for outreach. We had ours this Wednesday. Everyone gets all dolled up (which is a treat in itself) and they say nice things about us and honor us on stage and then we get to eat yummy food after. Mmmm so good. Well, the night was nice enough in itself but the added treat was that I was asked to share something about my experiences in front of the whole base. I was so nervous but it was a real honor. After the ceremony, everyone talked, laughed, danced and took pictures till late. It was an incredibly lovely evening. This pic is from that night- these are my friends Edolbina and Leah. We work together on 'property'/'maintenance' which is non stop hilarious fun.

More exciting news: for teams that only have one staff member, one student is asked to help lead. They asked me. It is a humbling honor as I am younger than some of the people on my team, but I am excited for it as I know it will be an opportunity for lots of growth. Student support leader means I will pray with the staff leader every morning and help lead if the staff member ever gets sick. It is not a huge role- as my friend Ian described it I will be a mechanic making fine tune adjustments to our car (fixing the oil and stuff, making sure we are in unity and encouraged and staying strong). It's going to be a great challenge. I can't wait to be stretched.

I think that is it for now. Sorry to be so brief... and blunt. Until next time, whenever that is!