11 August 2010

Lahir Bathin.

Keluarga,

Mohon Maaf dan Lahir Bathin! This year's Fast is now officially 9 hours underway and while I myself am currently contentedly full after a leftovers lunch of nasi kuning and the requisite cup of coconut gel, most of Malang's Muslim world has closed up shop. The roads are still plenty full of the usual traffic-sans-regulation havoc, but the streetsides are uncharacteristically empty; warung folded down to bare bamboo trappings and full-on restaurants boarded up against the noonday sun. It is strange, but also familiar; I arrived in Indonesia almost a year ago smack dab in the middle of Ramadan and so to me it has the feel of returning to something and that is something my sentimental soul can appreciate. I have also decided to take the second half of that opening salutation to heart and join with my Muslim brethren in making a concerted effort for lahir bathin this month—a spiritual rebirth. These last few weeks haven't been anything too fatal, but I can't deny a distinct flagging of the spirit this last little while that was only compounded by Mas Kuncoro not showing up at church on Sunday. I think of home too much and rely on the future far too often. I dwell on the past, fingering each failure and filing alphabetically mistakes and missed opportunities. I feel like I could have been better, could be better, should be better—-I need a jump start, and fast. So let's see what a little extra scripture study can do, plus some Ramadan re-dedication.

Enough about that. I'm sorry. Indonesia itself is still seru! and four months more of this kind of scenery can't kill me. In the Department of Travel way of things, I have found a new favorite form of transportation, and that would be: military convoy. Because when your whole branch wants to trip it out to Balekambang, that's the only way to go and after yesterday's there and back again I am a full-fledged fan. Sure, it's a bit bumpy and you can't count on any amenities beyond Martoyo's makeshift snack services (eeeewww vienna sausage no thank you) but you just cannot beat those views. I got a prime spot on the last inches of the back bench and enjoyed three full hours of sightseeing all to myself (esp. since sometimes branch activities just really mean everyone speaks to each other in Javanese so I am exempt from being social anyway).

Upon arriving, Oma Irawadi threw her hands to the air and announced “I am a child of the sea!” Which she then promptly proved by leaping (I use this word appropriately, even if she is 78 years old) out across the sand and headfirst into the waves. Later, as the two of us climbed out to the Amertha Jati temple together, she recited and recalled her various and venerable adventures as a scalawag seventeen year old living along the coasts of southern Sulawesi. I am almost entirely sure Oma Irawadi is the happiest person I have ever met.

All afternoon we missionaries led a discussion/lesson/activity on member missionary work, hoping to get somebody somewhere in here excited about inviting their friends to church because if we don't get some inside help real quick here we're just treading water—something we've been doing so long now that drowning's only a matter of time. I've been talking a lot with Pres Iwan lately and we're really going to try to get this branch up and going again; we have a few firesides in the works and tomorrow night we're

And . . . this email* just went out the window with my HP ringing and President's name on the screen. He's coming this weekend—something we already knew since Sister Groberg spilled that secret in a text yesterday afternoon (tangent: one of the many things I love about Sister Groberg is that the very first week she was here she went out and bought herself a cell phone, “khusus sisters.” It's our very own little land line to sanity whenever we need her.)—but this call today was to tell me that he'd be bringing presents, too. Khusus untuk saya. Namely, a new name. A new face. A new companion. My trainee.

Actually with Lala in the office this is something I've been steeling myself for a while now; there's only one new sister coming in the rest of the year and word on the street was I'd be her trainer. So really, I should be ready for this, right? No. This is the exactly absolutely last moment I feel capable of teaching anybody else how to be a missionary . . . which I guess is why I've been called to do it. I've juggled enough curve balls this past year to know that's usually the way the Lord works and so I'm ready and willing to accept the assignment—but just because I'm used to change doesn't mean I like it. There's also that minor detail of my greenie never having been to the MTC so . . . square one, anybody?

Though President's call came with a disclaimer: this could, potentially, not happen. It was just his initial feeling and decision so he called me to see how I'd feel about it too and after some back and forth it looks like a go but we won't know for sure until Friday night. Thank goodness for a few deep breaths. I will also still have Sumarno here with me for a while longer, so I am grateful for that. Am also grateful for SisLily being online at the exact same moment I logged in, and for an email from Ren to make me feel loved. I like my friends. And I really like my family. Hope all's well at home; I missed hearing the Yale Daily News this week, but hope President will bring glad tidings of good joy with my post on Saturday. Be blessed and be a blessing.

Selalu,
Sister E.

*we'll just have to pretend I already told you about speaking in Sacrament on Sunday and teaching Sis Lili on Saturday and riding an empty military truck back into Malang as the sun set. And wasn't it just such a good story?

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