Notes from a Not-So-Small Island

I'm sick. Or Sister Atmi is. Or then it's Sumarno. Or then it's all of us together. Whatever the day, at least one of us is down and out, all with this weird sick stomach but not a flu thing that's made this week not really one enough to report. I very vaguely remember yesterday . . . something about cinnamon toast and I think we listened to Josh Groban's Noel. Monday I got a hair cut! But only a trim, so that's it for that news. Sunday I sat on the first row in Sacrament Meeting and sobbed through most of the testimonies but most especially the one where the first (and only, actually) counselor and his family stood all together at the pulpit to sing "Families Can Be Together Forever" on the two year anniversary of their only son's death to leukemia. And then went to Sunday School where there were flowers on the table and we read The Family: A Proclamation to the World (is that what it's called in English? I can't remember) and the light through the windows was like New Zealand winter and the Brother sitting behind me was teasing me like a Maori and up on the board someone had drawn a little flock of frolicking sheep and I don't know . . . it's just one thing after another these days.

I'm still a little sick (as in, I thought I was healthy enough to follow Sumarno around malls all day, but that kind of energy expended has quickly caught up with me and I'm ready to sleep like the dead right here, right now) so sentences aren't fully making sense right now, so I'll try a quick list and hope the photos make up for the rest of it.

1. Last week I left you in the hope that my English class at En-Hai would save my sorry state——that was an understatement. My two hours on a campus in a classroom setting with an eager cast of intelligent, willing students restored more than a sense of happiness to my soul; it was my month's manna. I felt more myself than I have for quite some time, refreshed and recharged by their questions and curiosity and tangible enthusiasm for education. I stayed long after I was supposed to, chatting in the courtyard with Ernest and Sandy in a workable mix of Indo and English while the (no joke, praises be) juggling club practiced under the jackfruit tree behind us. Knowing I get to go back tomorrow has kept me going through the more trying moments of this week, for sure. I just feel like I'm really doing something worthwhile there, making a difference, seeing actual progress—-and also, it's just something I can do. I rode the angkot home last week in this overwhelmingly foreign sense of confidence. I'm relatively good at something again! I'm not entirely useless! I have a skill I can share!

2. Saturday I called Presiden to ask permission to come to Jakarta this weekend for Florentina's baptism. He still hasn't replied. At first, it was an absolute no—-missionaries are asking to stay for baptisms all the time, and the whole island would go crazy if he allowed it—-but when I reasoned that I'd be coming to Jak Sunday night for the following morning Zone Conference and therefore miss the baptism by mere hours, he seemed to give a little. And told me he'd get back to me. . .

3. Today I sent letters from the post office and watched them ACTUALLY CERTIFY AND SORT THE LETTERS INTO OUTBOUND BOXES. I love Bandung.

4. Don't ever buy clothes in America ever again. There is absolutely no reason you should be paying even $25 for an Old Navy blouse when the outlets here have the exact same one for a mere three. Oh, and Marc Jacobs? Or maybe a little Dolce and Gabbana? Yes and yes, all at about 80% off the price you're paying over there. (Olivia, are you so sure you want to be in Paris next December?)

5. Today I passed a billboard sponsored by the Department for Bandungese that said something to the effect of "Let's be honest: who's looking out for Indonesian anyway?" Which basically captures the entire country's attitude to their adopted national language—-they've been speaking their own way for centuries, so why make the switch? Um, so I can understand, please. Today I got in the angkot here and the guy next to be said Mau ke mana except it was in Sundanese so I didn't know what to say until Sumarno explained and then I was like "Oh, try Indonesian, I can understand that," but he shook his head and said "I only know a little" at which point I decided that I'd speak in English and he could reply in Sunda and we'd make just about as much sense as ever.

6. I bought a sweater (it's legitimately cold here sometimes, esp. at night).

7. Time is almost up and I still haven't replied individually. So I guess this is over and out, with the prayer that there will be more to say next week. kukasihmu. selalu serta selamalamnya.

E