KelKu,
I think the rainy season might be over. There have been some thunder warnings that come up on us all sneaky-like, but so far that's just a grumbly-rumbling from the mountaintops with no follow-through, so I'm going to call it here and now: we are officially into our Indonesian summer. And I like it.
The mornings, anyway. It starts out all lazy-slow and slightly chill, like overcast mornings on T-Street /San Clemente except that we don't wake up to USA Today and a box of donuts but that's okay because with all the doors wide open and the sun starting to rise it's quite pleasant on its own. By evening we've cooled down, too; the palm trees along the railroad lit in a turquoise sunset with the slightest hint of a coastal breeze. Last night, while waiting for an appointment at the Church, SisLily and I sat along the parking lot curb and it almost felt like home. But then there's the afternoon. When the sun is out and you are, too: walking, walking, walking terus and that at-least-okay hair you managed to pull up into a ponytail is suddenly not so fashionable and your bangs are curling around your cheekbones and your shirt is more soaked-through than haute-chic and goodness gracious can we get an es jeruk? For a long time now I've been thinking what's all this fuss about equator living? August in Utah's got more sun-muscle than I've ever felt! And then, this. Oh, this.
I guess that's what P-Days are for. Because on P-Days, you can go out into the foggy morning for your fun, walking pleasantly through the leafy Alun-Alun, pushing through Pasar Besar, fingering batik, sharing es coklat when noon's coming around the corner. And then, then you go home. You go home to your cool, quiet house and switch out your skirt for some shorts, flicking the fan onto top speed as you toss off your shoes and collapse next to SisLily on her mattress, and you laugh and laugh and laugh because you are wearing matching pajama shorts, and they are made of Indonesian school uniform fabric, and wouldn't Olivia just be mortified? Because maybe no one else in the whole wide world would really ever recognize the cleverness of us, and maybe, actually, they are ugly. Except they can't be, no. They are far too cool to be ugly. Keren banget. Also, why has it taken us an entire year of friendship to realize we should take a badminton class at BYU next semester? And we lie there and laugh there and let the hottest and highest part of the day pass us by because we can! And it is wonderful! And we are happy.
Or at least that's what we did today. Between all the funerals. Because when you're following the Javanese calendar, as I've mentioned, there's not just one celebration of a passing life. So today, early morning, we began at Sister Hamid's for an actual funeral. This afternoon, we were out at Sister Yuni's for a 100 day. Then just now, we came from Sister Hamid's yet again, since coincidentally she passed away while visiting friends in Solo so her first funeral also coincided with the three-day commemoration. On Sunday we'll go back for her seven-day. It is all very exhausting, but also fascinating, while at the same time being a lovely way to spend a few hours with my favorite of the Indonesian people—-the members. Thank goodness for their goodness. Because sometimes just sitting cross-legged in the corner of a lime-green room on a bamboo mat with 8-year-old Bianca curled up into my lap, drawing pictures across my email notes is actually the definition of happiness.
Though my personal dictionary is being logged full of that word these days—-it's been a good week. I'll send a few pictures in a minute to fill you in on it all (Happy One Year! Sparklers! Fourth of July! Oma Irawadi!), but to close up this email here's a quick scan of the week's lessons and investigators so that we all remember that also, actually and oh, yes: I am a missionary.
Kel. Rifai: Mum, dad, four girls from 21 to 10 years old. Live out in Sukon, where we help them string badminton rackets and then learn about the gospel. They are a happy, humble family and it has been a really good experience to learn with them; this week it was the Plan of Salvation.
Mas Kuncoro: Has a baptismal date! July 18th, if all goes to plan and his mum doesn't shut it all down last minute. Monday we taught eternal marriage with him and Sister Maria (aaaww!) plus had a long, lovely chat with his older sister who was in town visiting from Antwerp. Goodness, she was a laugh. And hey, if we're ever in Belgium next year, her door is open.
Pak Bobby: a former investigator returned! A hysterical blend of Belanda/Manado who likes to throw in some English for good measure, too. Plus, he really likes introducing us to all of his friends, like
Pak Ferdi: a middle-aged Lutheran from Manado currently earning his PhD at Brawijaya University here in Malang. We only just barely met him/taught him for the very first time yesterday (completely unplanned, too—-Bobby was walking us out to the angkot and randomly ushered us into a neighbor-house with a "Ayo you mengajar prayer di house sini" and then suddenly there we were, eating salak at a courtyard table and telling the Joseph Smith story. Mission is such a ride. But anyway, Pak Ferdi wasn’t (for some reason my apostrophe key has stopped working, so bear with me here on out) entirely receptive but nowhere near rejecting us, either, and we have a return appointment for tomorrow afternoon, the interim of which I will spend madly studying to be ready for whatever he throws at us next. I think I was able to hold my ground through the entire Trinity talk yesterday but wahduh this guy knows his Bible and I’ve got to keep up. He’s by far the most educated of persons I’ve ever taught here in Indonesia, and the difference is remarkable—-and a real stretch for me as a missionary, since I haven’t been used to this sort of speed for almost a whole year now. But it will be good, and we’ve at least got one guarantee: this guy will read the Book of Mormon. Which is a far leap from any other investigator we’ve ever worked with.
So that’s the line-up and this is the end; I have a few minutes more here but am going to write some individual emails in lieu of this weeks questions and epics from home, so family-wise this is over and out! I love you.
sayang,
Sister E.
I think the rainy season might be over. There have been some thunder warnings that come up on us all sneaky-like, but so far that's just a grumbly-rumbling from the mountaintops with no follow-through, so I'm going to call it here and now: we are officially into our Indonesian summer. And I like it.
The mornings, anyway. It starts out all lazy-slow and slightly chill, like overcast mornings on T-Street /San Clemente except that we don't wake up to USA Today and a box of donuts but that's okay because with all the doors wide open and the sun starting to rise it's quite pleasant on its own. By evening we've cooled down, too; the palm trees along the railroad lit in a turquoise sunset with the slightest hint of a coastal breeze. Last night, while waiting for an appointment at the Church, SisLily and I sat along the parking lot curb and it almost felt like home. But then there's the afternoon. When the sun is out and you are, too: walking, walking, walking terus and that at-least-okay hair you managed to pull up into a ponytail is suddenly not so fashionable and your bangs are curling around your cheekbones and your shirt is more soaked-through than haute-chic and goodness gracious can we get an es jeruk? For a long time now I've been thinking what's all this fuss about equator living? August in Utah's got more sun-muscle than I've ever felt! And then, this. Oh, this.
I guess that's what P-Days are for. Because on P-Days, you can go out into the foggy morning for your fun, walking pleasantly through the leafy Alun-Alun, pushing through Pasar Besar, fingering batik, sharing es coklat when noon's coming around the corner. And then, then you go home. You go home to your cool, quiet house and switch out your skirt for some shorts, flicking the fan onto top speed as you toss off your shoes and collapse next to SisLily on her mattress, and you laugh and laugh and laugh because you are wearing matching pajama shorts, and they are made of Indonesian school uniform fabric, and wouldn't Olivia just be mortified? Because maybe no one else in the whole wide world would really ever recognize the cleverness of us, and maybe, actually, they are ugly. Except they can't be, no. They are far too cool to be ugly. Keren banget. Also, why has it taken us an entire year of friendship to realize we should take a badminton class at BYU next semester? And we lie there and laugh there and let the hottest and highest part of the day pass us by because we can! And it is wonderful! And we are happy.
Or at least that's what we did today. Between all the funerals. Because when you're following the Javanese calendar, as I've mentioned, there's not just one celebration of a passing life. So today, early morning, we began at Sister Hamid's for an actual funeral. This afternoon, we were out at Sister Yuni's for a 100 day. Then just now, we came from Sister Hamid's yet again, since coincidentally she passed away while visiting friends in Solo so her first funeral also coincided with the three-day commemoration. On Sunday we'll go back for her seven-day. It is all very exhausting, but also fascinating, while at the same time being a lovely way to spend a few hours with my favorite of the Indonesian people—-the members. Thank goodness for their goodness. Because sometimes just sitting cross-legged in the corner of a lime-green room on a bamboo mat with 8-year-old Bianca curled up into my lap, drawing pictures across my email notes is actually the definition of happiness.
Though my personal dictionary is being logged full of that word these days—-it's been a good week. I'll send a few pictures in a minute to fill you in on it all (Happy One Year! Sparklers! Fourth of July! Oma Irawadi!), but to close up this email here's a quick scan of the week's lessons and investigators so that we all remember that also, actually and oh, yes: I am a missionary.
Kel. Rifai: Mum, dad, four girls from 21 to 10 years old. Live out in Sukon, where we help them string badminton rackets and then learn about the gospel. They are a happy, humble family and it has been a really good experience to learn with them; this week it was the Plan of Salvation.
Mas Kuncoro: Has a baptismal date! July 18th, if all goes to plan and his mum doesn't shut it all down last minute. Monday we taught eternal marriage with him and Sister Maria (aaaww!) plus had a long, lovely chat with his older sister who was in town visiting from Antwerp. Goodness, she was a laugh. And hey, if we're ever in Belgium next year, her door is open.
Pak Bobby: a former investigator returned! A hysterical blend of Belanda/Manado who likes to throw in some English for good measure, too. Plus, he really likes introducing us to all of his friends, like
Pak Ferdi: a middle-aged Lutheran from Manado currently earning his PhD at Brawijaya University here in Malang. We only just barely met him/taught him for the very first time yesterday (completely unplanned, too—-Bobby was walking us out to the angkot and randomly ushered us into a neighbor-house with a "Ayo you mengajar prayer di house sini" and then suddenly there we were, eating salak at a courtyard table and telling the Joseph Smith story. Mission is such a ride. But anyway, Pak Ferdi wasn’t (for some reason my apostrophe key has stopped working, so bear with me here on out) entirely receptive but nowhere near rejecting us, either, and we have a return appointment for tomorrow afternoon, the interim of which I will spend madly studying to be ready for whatever he throws at us next. I think I was able to hold my ground through the entire Trinity talk yesterday but wahduh this guy knows his Bible and I’ve got to keep up. He’s by far the most educated of persons I’ve ever taught here in Indonesia, and the difference is remarkable—-and a real stretch for me as a missionary, since I haven’t been used to this sort of speed for almost a whole year now. But it will be good, and we’ve at least got one guarantee: this guy will read the Book of Mormon. Which is a far leap from any other investigator we’ve ever worked with.
So that’s the line-up and this is the end; I have a few minutes more here but am going to write some individual emails in lieu of this weeks questions and epics from home, so family-wise this is over and out! I love you.
sayang,
Sister E.
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