This Post ends with Photos!!!

Hey there, family and friends!

Well, I have allowed nearly two weeks to pass without a word on my blog. I'm not sure if it's a testament to my busyness or my laziness, but either way, this post is long overdue! I hope that the pictures I've FINALLY been able to post (due to unlikely circumstances that I will explain later) will make up for my two week absence. I also will apologize now for the length of this post. I've broken it into paragraphs so that you can take some bathroom and snack breaks in between! ;) Enjoy...

Last Friday (November 18th, also my sister's birthday), I went on my second class trip with the TK. We left in three carloads to head to the zoo first thing Friday morning. There were at least 10 kids packed into each van, including sharing the front seat with me. Let me just say that I think I was more excited than any of those kids, at the prospect of going to the zoo. I impatiently sat in the front seat, wishing that these five year olds would hurry up just a little bit, so that we could get going! (Loading children into vehicles is no quick task.) After half an hour, we were finally on our way. On the way out, the driver told me I needed to put on my seat belt on. I told him that both myself and the little girl sharing the front seat with me could squeeze into one seat belt, but he said, "No, just you." I was a bit confused when he explained that the children didn't need seat belts- only me- but I chalked it up to another "there must be logic behind this" situation, and sat with my seat belt fastened while the girl stood (not sat, stood) in the front seat beside me. Within about 5 minutes, my excitement began to take a dive. 10 excited five year olds in one car doesn't exactly make for a peaceful ride. The screaming directly in my ear accelerated the plummet in enthusiasm so that by the time we got to the zoo (about an hour later), I was feeling about ready to go home again.When I got out of the car, a teacher asked me if the girl I shared a seat with threw up on the way? I said, "No, why?" The teacher said, "Oh, she usually does." I spent much of the day praying I wouldn't be sharing a seat with her on the way home.

The zoo trip turned out to be quite fun! One of the parents who came along, took me under her wing, and made sure I could experience the zoo to the fullest. I got to feed monkeys, pet a python, and ride an elephant. I passed on holding the cockatoo, who appeared to be in a particularly crochety mood that day, evident from the random nips he took at said parent. I also experienced what my sister experienced a few years back, when, while we were looking at it through a glass wall, a tiger on the other side jumped at us. It scared one poor kid so much that I doubt she will ever like tigers again.

The day was long and hot, but it was also a lot of fun. I felt very lucky to get some of the experiences that I did, and was grateful to that parent for making them happen. The good Lord had a different answer to my prayer on the way home, and I found myself sitting with the same kid. I anticipated a quiet ride home after such a busy day, but unfortunately a well-meaning salesman managed to sell whistles to 75% of the kids, who, since the toy was in it's new/novelty stage, blew the whistles happily for the vast majority of the car ride. They quieted down somewhat after one of the kids puked, though I cannot say that that was a consolation. Thank goodness it wasn't the girl sharing my seat (and lucky for me, she had fallen asleep in my lap, so someone else got the task of cleaning up the puke-covered, teary-eyed boy). We arrived back at the church, and I went home shortly after and took a nap, which is very rare for me.

I was at the zoo again on Saturday (with a little less enthusiasm than I had on Friday, as idealistic views gave way to the reality of spending 2 hours in a car, and all morning at the zoo with a group of five year olds) and had a bit more of a relaxing trip this time around, as the kids spent a lot of time in an art contest. I also fed an orangutan from my hand, which, while it was no baby orangutan orphanage in Kalimantan (my dream vacation in Indonesia!), was still a really cool experience. He seemed so gentle and human-like, carefully taking cheetoes from my hand. We really had a connection, I think, between a common love for cheetoes, and a shared hair colour.

My host parents took us out for dinner on Saturday night, to what was hands-down THE best restaurant I have been to in Indonesia, both in food quality and in atmosphere. I've discovered a new favourite food here- udang goreng mayonnaise (fried shrimp with a mayo-esque sauce), and this restaurant made an incredible version of these. They also served Western food, and I enjoyed a truly amazing fettucine carbonara. We even got dessert, as the restaurant is known for their icecream. We ate everything on a lit-up balcony, which overlooked all the lights of Semarang, and beyond that, the sea. It was a beautiful evening.

Monday is usually my day off, but because one of the kindergarten teachers is in school right now, she had some tests to write, so I was asked to come in. It ended up working out really well. I spent my morning at the TK, and then took the afternoon as a break, before heading back to church in the evening for my very first (and possibly very last- I'm not sure if they'll let me come back) kulintang lesson. The kulintang is similar to a piano in that if you can play piano, you can understand how to play the kulintang. That is about as far as the similarities go. The kulintang is played with 3 mallets, two in the right hand and one in the left. You strike the instrument, which looks like a wooden xylophone, to produce a sort of muffled, but really pretty, percussion-y sound (wow, what a weak description- there's what a 3 year music minor has done for me!). My host parents seemed quite convinced that I would catch on quickly, but sadly, that was not the case. I arrived, eager to blow everyone out of the water (because, I thought, I have sixteen years of piano playing behind me... Eventually I will learn that I'm consistently proven wrong whenever I let my God-given gifts go to my head), and instead, wound up holding up the whole class as I squinted at the handwritten chords (which, in my defense, were VERY difficult to follow) and attempted to successfully make the transition from a C chord to a G chord (the first of a multitude of transitions that I didn't even attempt to handle). The teacher also seemed quite crestfallen that I wasn't immediately able to play all of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" (and a dream that shall remain, in a country where "cool" is 28 degrees), and attempted multiple times to show me what to do. I told him that I understood perfectly how to play the instrument, but that I was unable to play at the speed of those who have been practicing for months. Needless to say, it's looking like I will not be joining the group in their performance on Christmas Eve, as was the original plan.

On Tuesday night, I headed off with my host family to Kudus, for a memorial service for my host dad's uncle. Jason is living in Kudus, and usually my host parents really try hard to coordinate visits whenever we are in the same area as another SALTer. This time, however, my host dad told me that there wouldn't be time to see Jason. I was not expecting to tack a visit on to the visitation, and I told him that was totally fine. Around 4:30, we packed into the van (my extended host family and I, for a total of 10 people) for the hour and a half-long drive. We arrived in Kudus at the place where the memorial service was to be held. I quickly discovered that memorial services in Indonesia are quite different than in Canada (why this surprised me, I don't know). We pulled up to a big building, open on three sides. The front part of the building was divided into 6 "stalls", about the size of a bedroom. The rest of the room was open. The stalls are where the caskets go, and the open area is where people sit. The open area can be divided using partitions, in the event that there is more than one memorial service going on, as was the case on Tuesday night. We sat in two rows, facing each other, with the casket at the end of the row. There was food (of course), and we ate a bit and talked for a few minutes, before my host parents said we were going to head out for a bit and then come back. I was so confused, and I asked a million questions- why are we leaving? Where are we going? Why isn't everyone coming with us? My host dad finally said he had to go see a friend for a bit, which was enough of an explanation to keep me quiet. We drove for a few minutes, and then pulled into a church parking lot. My host dad said to me, "Look, who's that?" and out of my window, I saw Irene, Jason's host sister! It turned out that my host parents planned a whole surprise visit to see Jason! I never had any idea!

Around 11:30 on Wednesday, the surprise visit was returned. I opened the door of the kindergarten class upon hearing a knock, and lo and behold, there stood Jason! His pastor had a meeting at the synod office, and Jason came along for the ride. He joined me in the kindergarten (much to the excitement of the 14 little kiddies, who have asked every single day since Jason's last visit, when Jason would be coming back) and then we had a quick lunch before returning to the church for PPA. The lunch break provided me with an opportunity to really barter for transportation (and redeem myself after an experience last week with a truly INSANE woman who somehow got me to pay over two times what the bus ticket should actually cost). I was more confident being with someone else, and my Bahasa Indonesia skills really kicked in. The ride back was particularly successful, as I got the price down from 5,000 rupiah (an attempted rip-off that screamed "I'm doing this because you're white") to 2,000. I've discovered that the key is to barter before getting on, and paying at the beginning of the ride.

Wednesday nights are one of my favourite nights of the week- teaching English at the Gloria Patri Learning Centre with three other people who speak English, and have spent time in North America (two of whom are very involved with MCC). We always go out for dinner after class, and Bu Linda (one of the teachers, and a 3-time host of SALTers in the past) always finds awesome restaurants to try. This week we tried a place that serves ribs and sambal, which is a unique combination, but the ribs were excellent on their own!

Thursday was PPA (teaching the kids in the Compassion International Program) and then a relaxing evening. PPA has been somewhat of a confusing point in this SALT position. They have gone back and forth between having me teach the whole class (one and a half hours two times a week) to teaching none of it at all after I told them that it was too much to teach the whole thing twice a week (to stressful for me to try to figure out, and unfair to the kids, who cannot listen to an hour and a half of English). I'm really hoping that we can get a schedule figured out soon that would allow for shared teaching between myself and the Indonesian teachers who have already been there for awhile. 

On Friday at school, I received a phone call from Jeanne, informing me that one of the SALTers is in the hospital (for nothing life-threatening- she is totally fine, and in good spirits) and asked me if I would spend the night with her. I was more than willing, as I hadn't had the opportunity to see this SALTer yet, and I headed off to Kudus a few hours after receiving the phone call. The SALTer and I had a pretty fun night, talking and watching Harry Potter. I was treated yet again with the kindness that Indonesian people are known for, as nurses and doctors chatted with me and eagerly helped me in finding things I needed (I think I was more demanding than the person who is actually sick). Irene, Jason's host sister, also made arrangements to provide me dinner, which was incredibly kind of her.

I woke up at 3:30 in the morning on Saturday morning to catch my 4AM ride from Kudus back to Semarang. By the time I got back to Semarang, I had two hours to sleep before heading to the GKMI synode office for IVEP selection. I met Karen, Major, Pak Lilik, Jason, Nicole, and Laura at the office, and we spent the majority of the day just hanging out and talking, save for 2 hours that we spent administering verbal English tests to 13 IVEP candidates. The poor IVEPers were so nervous, and it reminded me of my own interview for going on SALT about a year ago.

After the IVEP selection day was done, the SALTers came home with me to spend the night. Nicole, Jason, and I, wanted to do something special for Laura to celebrate her birthday. The plan was to order pizza and eat ice cream at my house. My host parents one-upped the plan, and took us to Lind's (that amazing restaurant we went to last week). It turned out that it was a surprise party to celebrate ALL of our birthdays! After dinner, an ice cream cake came out, beautifully decrorated. My host mom produced four candles, in the shape of a 2, a 0, a 1, and a 4. She changed them 3 times, so that we lit candles to celebrate Laura's 20th birthday, Jason, Valen, and my 21st birthdays, and Nicole's 24th birthday. It was such a surprise, and such a beautiful evening!

We all hung out back at my place before bed, and woke up early Sunday morning in time for church. We had a quick breakfast and then headed off to church. After the service, my host parents took us all out to see Sam poo Kong, a Chinese temple and one of the attractions in Semarang. It was pretty cool! After that, we went for lunch, and then came back to the house. I received a text from Dan around 1:00, asking if I could hang out at the hospital again, and, since the last time was surprisingly fun, I was eager to go back (the hospital has wifi!). At 2:00, Laura and Nicole headed back to their hosts, and Jason and I hopped on a bus to Kudus. Once again, Jason's host sister came to my rescue in the food department, and brought me buffalo satay (a Kudus specialty, and probably one of the most delicious types of satay) and rice, as well as dessert, snacks, and drinks. It was so incredibly generous! I also had an awesome experience when I  went down to the hospital bakery, which is owned by Jason's host mom, and was informed that everything I wanted to buy was free, because I am a friend of the family. We spent the evening talking and being interrupted by random nurses and doctors (one of whom tried to practice her English on me, and wound up thinking that I told her I loved her, to which she eagerly responded "I love you too!" whilst patting me on the knee), and then tried to sleep. It's now 8:44 in the morning, and I'm looking more disheveled and sleep deprived than my friend who is actually sick!

Last night, the SALTers host dad came to visit, and in that time, I was called fat yet again.This has been an ongoing issue since our arrival, and is something that MCC told us about. While it is nice to know that it is a cultural thing and not something that I should take personally, I cannot help but feel incredibly offended whenever someone says, "Oh! Kamu besar!" (Oh, you're big!) or, "You are more fat than she is." or "Are you getting fatter or thinner?" (I got that question two days ago, and am still confused as to why it was asked). There is an incredibly big focus on body types here, but what I am unsure of is why it has to be verbalized. I was first told that being called fat is a compliment, but upon meeting many girls here who are on diets because they want to be thinner, I have learned that it is not nearly as much a compliment as I originally believed (especially coming from people of this generation). I think that this issue will remain a mystery to me- why they say it, and what good they expect it will bring by saying it- but one good thing that has come of it is the birth of the idea to create a "YALTer Survival Guide", from YALTers to future YALTers, including our feelings at the beginning of the year, how we're coping with some of the cultural differences, things that we've done that have been effective or ineffective in our positions, funny cultural blunders, and reassurances about being able to deal with the difficulties that will come their way! (I've claimed the "How to Survive Being Called Fat" section, though other YALTers are welcome to give their input on that too). MCC does a really good job of relaying feelings of past YALTers to us, but so often I've wished I could just hear straight from them how they deal with things. We're going to try to make this "survival guide" as a group, since all of us have very different experiences and all have valuable input. It's a fun focus to work at throughout the year, and is something that keeps our group connected despite the geographical divides.

Anyways, I'll let you go before this post gets any longer. Below are a whole mix of pictures. Since life is becoming just... well, life, I haven't really been taking too many. let me know if there is anything you're particularly curious about seeing pictures of, and I will do my best to get pictures up of those things!

Have a great day!
Love,
Ellery

PPA (Compassion International)- part of one of the classes

TK A-1, upon completing their first English assignment. (Not one of the words stuck, but it was a good learning experience for me!)

No, this is not a wedding... this is that engagement party that I mentioned a few posts back

Hanging out with Hoffman, Dan and Jeanne's brand new puppy!

Celebrating the 21st Birthdays

At the Sam Poo Kong Temple!

Out for an incredible dinner at an amazing restaurant with Pak Har and Ibu Vonny, my host parents

At the zoo! I found it a bit odd to find a tank-shaped paddle boat amidst the ducks

This is a wedding. Cutting the cake with a sword! The cake is not real.

This may be as close as I get to orangutans this year.

Feeding cheetos to an orangutan. I was not a fan of the cage (it made me so sad), but he seemed quite content!

The Life of A Bule

Selamat Malam! (Suh-lah-mhat Mah-lam...Dad, I'm using the Indonesian phrases for you, because you need to learn them! Practice saying it out loud!)

Last time I posted was on Tuesday, and I now find myself  a week beyond that... this week absolutely FLEW by! Though I can totally handle the speed, no need for time to go slower... ;)

Last week, I was invited out twice to see movies with some avid movie-goers. The movie theatre experience here has its similarities to Canada, but it's a much more formal affair here, with attendants at the doors to take your tickets (dressed in black button-down shirts, and long skirts or black pants), and with predesignated seating. The best part about the theatre here is the popcorn. I thought that the popcorn at home couldn't be beat, but somehow, Indonesia has outdone us! They have two kinds, either sweet, or salty, and the sweet is absolutely incredible.

After the second movie, we went for ice cream at J.Co, a really nice cafe. While we were there, some kids came up to us, begging for money. For the first time ever, I did not feel awkward about the situation- at least not right in the moment. I told them "sorry", and continued on with the conversation I was having. When the kids were persistent, I asked my friend if it's better to give them money or not to, and she said not to. As she said it, however, she pulled out her wallet, and handed them some cash, telling me, "It's so that they won't bother you any more." While I watched them scamper away, I began to think about my response to the situation. I think that these scenarios are generally so uncomfortable because we are directly confronted with an issue that we'd rather ignore; it tugs at our conscience in that split second when we have to decide whether or not we are going to hand over money, all the while thinking of our abundantly blessed lives. It is easy to justify how we spend our money when we are not looking the problems that our selfishness creates, directly in the eye. I think the other dilemma that we always face is the idea of how that person is going to spend the money. I used to think, "It's going to drugs and alcohol, and I refuse to feed those habits" (as though this act on my part would cure them of any drug habits they have, assuming that they even DO plan on spending the money on that- and that is a BIG assumption.) Then, just last year, I watched a documentary about some homeless youth in Kitchener. I don't remember a lot of the video, but I remember one of the homeless guys saying,"Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to stand and ask people for money?" He went on to talk about how not only do people not give, but they glare at him, scowl at him, avoid eye contact, pretend they don't hear, comment on his situation as though they know exactly how he got to where he is- and that he doesn't deserve any better. He said, "I just want to be treated with dignity, like any person would want." After watching that, I realized that not giving only makes me look like another cold-hearted, apathetic person, and if I cannot take the time to talk to someone, the least I can do is offer a smile and a few bucks. How that person spends it is their business. I guess what bothered me so much in the J.Co situation is that I let my whole belief slide. I reverted right back to my old "I'll save you through NOT giving" mentality (since, usually, children who beg are not keeping the money for themselves, and I feel like I am condoning the use of children in these situations, by giving money to it). What I completely lost sight of was the HUMAN- the little girl (and two little boys) standing in front of me, asking for a few thousand rupiah.

Since I am unable to follow church sermons right now, I've been using the time to start brushing up on some Bible knowledge (or more accurately, cracking open the New Testament for the first time in my life), and the passage that has been going through my mind since J.Co, is Mark 3:4. Jesus finds a man in the synagogue on the Sabbath, who has a shriveled hand. The Pharisees were watching to see if Jesus would heal on the Sabbath, as doing so would be breaking the law. Jesus responds, "I ask you, which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save a life or to destroy it?" Jesus doesn't care about the structure behind things. He cares about the people, here and now, in every circumstance. I feel exactly like a Pharisee for my response to those kids, because I put the system ahead of the people. I had good intentions, but I missed the point. Without using any words, I told three kids (and those who were watching) that I didn't care about them. I hope that the next time the situation presents itself, I'll be a bit more Jesus-esque in my response. That is something I'd love prayer for.

Nicole came over on Saturday, and we went to a wedding in Kudus. Weddings, I have discovered, are really not my thing. We were asked to sing (and declined the offer), and the camera crew was on us yet again, since we were the only bules (foreigners) at the affair. I was glad I had Nicole there to shed more humour on the situation! On the up side, the trip to Kudus meant that we got to see Jason for a little while, and it was Nicole's first time seeing him since we moved away from Salatiga. Jason's host family is wonderful, and we had a really nice visit prior to the wedding.

On Sunday, we went out for lunch to celebrate at least 5 birthdays in the family- everyone in my host family seems to be born between the end of October, and the middle of November! Nicole joined for that too, and then after a quick shopping trip, we headed to Ungaran to spend a night at Nicole's host family. The evening was a relaxing one, and we ended up just talking until almost 2AM! I haven't had a night like that in a LONG time!

On Monday, I took a bus to Salatiga, and hung out at the MCC office, before taking a bis kecil (a small bus) to Kopeng, where Laura lives. We chatted and watched movies, and it was a perfect way to spend my day off. Around 2:30, I started the trek back to Semarang (and a trek it is- 3 different buses!). Knowing the angkota ("city bus") system in Salatiga was really great, and knowing how to get between cities is awesome (and shockingly easy), but the angkota system in Semarang is one that I may never fully understand. I have ridden the same angkota from the same spot, TO the same spot, three times now, and each time the price has been different. Of course, I have never paid enough. Last week I was able to put my foot down and say "No, just because I'm white doesn't mean I'll pay more", but this week, I think the angkota helper was actually insane, because she got angry when I started to explain that I know how much it is supposed to cost (whilst counting out more money for her, because it's not worth a fight in the street over 20 cents) and cackled (not laughed, cackled) at me as they sped away, KNOWING that she ripped me off. The money is not the issue, but the fact that I'm taken advantage of for being white, really angers me. I guess if anything, it builds empathy and understanding for those who live as a minority in a country or region, and who are treated accordingly. It also makes me increasingly thankful each and every day, for being born into multicultural Canada, where it is not weird for me to be surrounded by people of all different races.

Today was the beginning of the "work" week, and I woke up from a dream about home this morning, that left me feeling like my dreams seem more real than my reality here sometimes. It was a strange sensation!

Share and Care was canceled tonight, which is allowing me the opportunity to get caught up on a bunch of stuff I've been wanting to do, and maybe even relax for a little while before bed.

Thanks for reading!
Love,
Ellery

Engagements and Weddings!

Selamat Sore, teman-teman dan Keluarga!

After Saturday's post, I received a lot of words of encouragement, and a lot of reassurance about prayers being sent my way. I also discovered that the post was a bit distressing to some of the family in particular, and I want to assure you, Grandma, that I am ok! If this was easy, I'd be suspicious that I was missing the point. There's a song that I love (skip this next part of my blog if you're not into cheesy lyrical quoting), and the chorus goes, "You said 'I know that this will hurt, but if I don't break your heart then things will just get worse. If the burden seems too much to bear, remember the end will justify the pain it took to get you there.'" While I wouldn't use the words "broken heart" to describe my feelings, I think there's a more general truth to those words- that God has to break us down before He build us up again, and that when we look back on it, we'll see the growth that came out of the hard times. I'm for the better for the challenges that I'm working through, and I am blessed to be working through them with such a strong support network standing behind me.

Things have been going really well these last few days, and some really new and really fun experiences have happened to me! Allow me to share...

First of all, going back to last week, I realized that we did not just do the mall on Sunday- we went to an engagement party! Not intrigued? Let me tell you about it. The bride-to-be is a daughter of two doctors, which means that they are quite well off. In Indonesia (or at least in Java), engagements and weddings are BIG deals, and are celebrated to the max. This event could be described in no other way. We drove up to the hotel, and the first thing we saw was about 8 HUGE, brightly coloured banners from various companies and organizations, extending their congratulations to the happy couple. I have no clue what happens to those things after that day. We walked under a massive canopy of flowers, and inside the lobby, there were multiple guest books that could be signed, and decked-out women standing behind them. They were all dressed in the same dress, so they looked something like bridesmaids (maybe they will be the bridesmaids). Finally, we were inside the hall, and... I don't even have the words to describe it. It was more lavish than any wedding I've ever seen. There was a film crew and a camera crew. EVERYTHING- even the air conditioning units- was decorated, and there were people everywhere! I've learned that a big difference between weddings and parties in North America and weddings and parties here is that you don't exactly have to be invited to go. One invitation is good for 4 or 5 people, whoever they may be. I'll explain what that looks like when I tell you about the wedding I attended this past weekend.

The way these parties often work is that there are food booths that you can walk up to and just take food from. I counted thirteen different ones at the engagement party- goat, lemon chicken, ribs and potatoes, gelato, and so much more. People came in and out, eating and chatting, and wishing the couple all the best. The couple- the bride-to-be in particular- was probably the biggest shock. She was dressed in an incredibly ornate white gown, complete with gloves. Her hair and makeup were professionally done, and she looked more fancy than any bride on her wedding day. I don't know how she is going to outdo herself for her wedding! We left the engagement party and received a party favour (an ice cream bowl), and headed to the mall after that. I was just so blown away by the whole affair. It put any party I could ever throw, to shame.

Anyways, moving forward to this week thus far. On Sunday, I went to church, and after church, we went out for lunch with my host family. Our plan was to go see some temples afterward, but then it started to rain, so we changed our plans to- wait for it- the mall! An unexpected surprise was that Jason, who was spending the day in Semarang, ended up coming to the same mall (there are 5 or 6 in Semarang), and we hung out in the Shampoo isle of the Carrefour (similar to a Wal-Mart), just chatting for about half an hour. It's always nice to see SALTers, especially since they feel so much like family here, and Jason is always a cheery and enthusiastic face to see. He was particularly excited on Sunday because he had spent the morning in a mosque, cutting up meat. Sunday was Eid al-Adha (though it has a bit of a different name here, I cannot remember), a Muslim holiday. In the words of wikipedia, "Eid al-Adha ("Festival of Sacrifice" or "Greater Eid") is an important religious holiday celebrated by Muslims worldwide to commemorate the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice his son Ishmael as an act of obedience to God before God intervened to provide him with a sheep to sacrifice instead." On Sunday, thousands of cows and goats were slaughtered in or near mosques, and the meat given to people. The goat market around the corner was absolutely packed full with goats in the days leading up to the holiday. I swear I could hear the bleating of dying goats the night before, and, while I did not witness it firsthand, Nicole told me that it was a scary sight to behold. I was told that they slit the throat and then wait for the animal to die, and that sometimes the animal runs off in a panic after the throat has been slit, spilling blood everywhere. It... is not an event that I feel too torn up about missing out on. Jason, however, thoroughly enjoyed cutting up the meat, and told me that his clothes were covered in blood afterward. Nice.

On Sunday night, I was invited to a traditional Chinese wedding in Java. As I mentioned earlier, an invitation is good for more than just the person whose name is on the invitation, and the hall was set for about 1000 guests. I don't think it filled completely, but it was pretty close! A typical wedding includes entertainment between each course of food, and food is served family-style, on one big platter. The entertainment was a group of 4 girls who danced in different costumes between the six courses of traditional Chinese food. Indonesians really love bling (a friend told me this, but it is an easy conclusion to draw), and there was no shortage of it at the wedding- dresses were covered in sparkles, there were coloured strobe lights everywhere, and even the wedding cake (fake) was lit up and sparkly (and adorned with snowmen, which is always funny to see in a hot country). The most memorable part of the wedding for me, was when my friend suggested I join her to take a picture with the bride and groom. I was very reluctant, but she was persistent, and so I joined her. The second I got up on stage, the MCs started to tease me, though I couldn't tell because I couldn't understand them. Then they asked me where I live (a common question here, and they like specifics!) and then had me say congratulations to the bride and groom. With the film crew glued to me, I said a congratulations to the bride and groom (in the fastest English I could possibly speak, to ensure that no one understood me) in front of nearly 1000 people, and- red faced- got my picture taken and then hurried offstage. It was awkward, but made for a memorable evening! I was told that usually a foreigner is made to sing or dance, so I actually got off pretty easy. I also learned that the SECOND you are done eating, the wedding is over. I literally was lifting the last spoonful of "Es Buah" to my mouth when my table stood up and said it was time to go.We shook hands with the bride and groom, and we were home before 9PM!

On Monday morning, I headed up to Salatiga, picking up Nicole on the way, and we spent the day at Karen and Major's, baking brownies, talking, and watching a movie. We took a bus home, Nicole getting off in Ungaran, and I continuing on to Semarang. My prayers for some independence were answered- I was allowed to ride the bus home independently, and that just made my week! I like the challenge of learning new things, and I love that feeling of success when something new like that goes smoothly. The angkota driver tried to charge me extra (a common trick used against us poor bules- foreigners), but I have been in the country long enough to know what the bus fare is, and could communicate well enough to tell him so. He looked a bit sheepish as he drove off.

Today I was at the school, and then I spent the afternoon making travel plans for my parents and sister, who- if all goes smoothly- will be coming in December! I am unbelievably excited for them to come, and to have someone from home who will understand the people and places that I talk about. My dad is supposed to come 10 days before my sister and my mom, and right now, I'm just so excited to hang out in Java with my dad for 10 days. My mom and my sister are supposed to be coming on the 23rd (in time for Christmas!!!) and our family is scheduled to sing a song at church on Christmas Eve. We are planning on heading to Salatiga on the 26th, and then on to Yogyakarta for 5 days, beginning on the 27th. They fly out again on January 1st, which means I have nearly 3 weeks to spend with my dad, and nine days with my whole family. I cannot fully express how much I am looking forward to their visit!!

Tonight I have music practise at the church, and tomorrow begins my Wednesday-Saturday stretch of craziness. I am a bit more prepared this week, which should help keep my stress down, and allow me to get a bit more sleep, which was part of what contributed to my downfall last week.

Thanks for reading another pictureless post! I'm going to stop promising pictures, and let them just be a nice surprise if and when they come, because as of now, I do not know when I will get the opportunity to post more!

Lots of love,
Ellery

Highs and Lows... and Lower Lows

Hey there Everyone!

Once again, I have allowed quite a bit of time to go by in between posts! On the plus side though, I have a week’s worth of experiences, and I can sift through them, weed out the boring experiences, and perhaps provide you with a more interesting post as a result.

Saturday of last week was once again the day that I was responsible for English lessons at the TK (kindergarten). The week before, I had painstakingly drawn and cut out 55 shirts, shorts, shoes, skirts, belts, and people for the kiddies to colour and, in the case of the people, paste clothes to. I had run out of time to actually complete the activity that day, but there was no way on earth that all that work was going to waste, so the kids made the puppets last week. I didn’t exactly time it perfectly (the puppet-making went 45 minutes past the allotted 30 minutes) but they seemed to enjoy it, and perhaps they learned a little something from it too.

While I’m on the subject, let me just say a huuuuuge thank-you to every single one of my elementary school teachers, particularly Mrs. Pyle, Mrs. Fowler, and Mrs. Edgar, who set me out on the right track back in kindergarten and grade one. I have a newfound respect for teachers- it is a hard job. I’ve always known it isn’t easy, but man, the time that you have to put into it in order to be one of those really memorable and effective teachers is astounding. I’m guessing that it must get easier over time, as you settle into a groove, but still! After 16 years straight of school, I thought that this year would be a bit of a break... instead, my current stress levels rival the stress that I feel the night before an exam that I haven’t properly studied for! One enormous blessing is that the kids in the TK are a dream to teach. Every one of them is enthusiastic and excited to learn. They have so much patience with me as I struggle to explain things to them in Bahasa Indonesia. They eagerly learn songs, they ask for stories and they gasp in excitement every time I turn a page, and they are always willing to participate wholeheartedly in any activity I plan. I couldn’t ask for a better group of kids.

Last Saturday evening was the weekly youth service, and it was followed by ice cream, which is a rare treat. My host family had specifically instructed me not to eat too much of it, as we would be going out for dinner afterwards, and man, did we ever go out for dinner! It was my host sister’s birthday, and we went to her favourite restaurant- S2- to celebrate. S2 is a Chinese/Japanese/Western restaurant cluster, with a common outdoor eating area. You can also order off of any menu no matter which restaurant you’re sitting in. It was all lit up, and it was quiet (or rather, devoid of street noise), which is a rare find in Semarang. It was such a nice evening, and one that I really needed after a busy week.

Sunday is a church-and-mall-walking-day for my host family, and we did just that- went to church, and then headed to the mall to do some walking about. I’m not the world’s biggest shopper, but they say that they do it for the exercise, and I am more than happy for some “exercise” opportunities here. I lack the same opportunities to walk and ride my bike like I did in Salatiga, and I miss it a lot!

Monday was my day off, and I used it to go to Salatiga to visit Ibu Christin and the boys, drop by the office, make some Kraft Dinner, and hang out with Laura. She came back with me to Semarang, and we spent the evening at the mall (yes, by choice! Shopping is the big thing here), and ended our adventure with a trip to Pizza Hut. She ended up spending the night, and we had a quiet evening at my house, watching Harry Potter before heading to sleep. We also made a list of everything that is stressing us out here, and then reasons why we needn’t stress so much. As you will read, though, putting the ideas into practice is proving more difficult than I thought.

Laura accompanied me to school on Tuesday morning, and heard my TK-B class sing Away in a Manger (my biggest accomplishment thus far in my teaching career), before she headed back to Kopeng, where she is serving this year. From the moment she left, my emotional state- which had really been teetering on the brink of mental breakdown- tipped too far one way, and I slid right down into what could be the most negative mental state I have ever found myself in. I got through the rest of the day, as well as the events of the evening. I did get invited out for supper by Indonesian friends, which was my first invitation to do something just for fun, and I was grateful for it.

Still, despite that, I slept horribly that night, and woke up early to talk to Andrew, which resulted in him listening to me bawl for an hour about all of the stresses that I am feeling right now. (Sorry, Andrew!) We ended the call right before I had to go to school, and I got to school with a puffy face, and red eyes. I was asked to pray that morning, and it was probably the shortest prayer in the history of prayers (one teacher hadn’t even gotten her head completely bowed yet), and the combination of everything led the teachers to question my emotional state. Now let me just say that, under normal circumstances, I consistently employ the “I’m a Mennonite, and I’m a Penner” mentality, and I highly value my ability to put on a brave face despite what my true feelings may be. But these are not normal circumstances, and so when one teacher asked me if I’d like to take the day off, I said, “yes.” She went and talked to the principal, and the principal felt so bad for me that she started crying and then I was crying and it was just a big crying mess. She one-upped the offer for the day off, and asked me if I’d like to go to the beach (not actually a beach, but that is the word they use for Marina) for the day. Since my pride was already shot (today, three days later, there are still people at the church asking me if I’m still sad, and that I shouldn’t cry), I eagerly accepted the invitation. The principal made a few arrangements, and within ten minutes, the two of us were off to the beach for the day.

The beach day started out completely normal, and extremely relaxing. The principal stopped and picked us up some snacks, and we just sat by the water, eating and chatting about the fishermen and the crabs and the port (Semarang is a Port city). A turn for the… more unique (I won’t say worse because rock bottom happened that morning already) happened about two hours into our day. I noticed small boats driving around along the shore, and asked about them. The principal asked me if I’d like to go out on one, and I said “heck yes I would!” so off we headed towards the docks. When we got there, however, there were no people, and only a few big boats left. Our fallback plan was to get some fruit from a passing vendor (they go around with a cart, and cut up the fruits that you want and make you a fruit platter!) and sit at the docks and watch the fish.

About 45 minutes later, a group of people walked our way. The principal said something to me, but I didn’t understand anything except that these people were from the church. As they approached, the principal stood and greeted them. They talked for a minute, and then the principal told me that they were going out on a boat, and would I like to join? Well of course, I said yes! I thought nothing of the fact that it was mid-morning on a Wednesday (an odd time for a boat tour, particularly a boat tour taken by those who live in the city), and that one lady was holding a small clay pot in her hands.

I eagerly clambered aboard the (massive and extraordinarily unwieldy) boat, and found a place to sit. I felt the most content that I had in days, and thoroughly enjoyed our departure out of the harbor. We chugged along in this big wooden boat for about ten minutes in what I thought was blissful silence, before the principal said to me, “Ok, we’re going to pray now.” Pray now? I thought, What could we possibly need to pray for at this moment? Well it turns out that that jar had more significance than I originally thought- it held the remains of the husband/father of the people on the boat, and we were out at sea to spread his ashes. Mortified, I did the only thing I could do- join the prayer circle, and then quietly observe as the ashes were scattered. I was then invited to partake in the throwing of flowers, and given that I really didn’t have an excuse not to (I was on a boat out in the ocean, you see) I accepted the invitation, and joined in tossing rose pedals out to sea. Afterward, I quietly sat back down, waiting for the boat to circle the scattered ashes a few times before heading back to the dock. I muttered a “thank you for letting me join” (just to ensure that the experience could be made as awkward as possible), and the people from church headed off.

I learned quite a bit from this experience. For one, the surrealism of it made me completely forget my homesickness, which was a real bonus. For another, I learned about customs and rituals related to funerals here in Indonesia. Most importantly though, I learned yet again how incredibly community-oriented the people are here. In Canada, no way would anyone outside the family be allowed on that boat. Here, I was welcomed wholeheartedly, and even invited to participate in the ceremony. I’m not sure that I needed to learn it that way, but at the very least, it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that really tops the “I must be dreaming” feeling I had at the Dolphin show last Friday.

The week settled back into a normal schedule after Wednesday’s little episode. I taught at the TK, as well as at Compassion (where I learned the hard way about the importance of organization and preparation) and at Ichthus FM. I acquired a new teaching position at the Gloria Patria Church, which gives me an opportunity to spend time with a former IVEPer, meet some more kids, and enjoy dinner with an English-speaking crowd. It is really nice to have that chance every so often.

Today I taught TK, where I was rewarded for the hard work I put into making puppets to accompany the book “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” (34 puppets in total). The kids LOVED it, and I think it was an easier concept than last week’s activities. We went shopping in the afternoon, and then I went to church for youth tonight. I was invited out a second time after that, to just hang out, head to the mall, and eat ice cream and nasi goreng (fried rice). I got home late, and talked with my family for a bit. That brings me to this moment!

I’m off to bed! I REALLY hope to get pictures up soon! Sorry, everyone!

Love,

Ellery