on traffic, and getting to where I am now

I congratulate you in advance if you decide to wade through the many words I have just posted. Since being here in Indonesia, I have really enjoyed the time to reflect on my new surroundings.

21 juli 2009
Pt. Yonasindo Intra Pratama
8:45 am – first day of work

If I had perfect pitch, I could tell you immediately what note the fluorescent lights sound as they flicker over my head in my new boss’s office. He is not here, so I am sitting here writing while we wait for his arrival. I don’t have perfect pitch, so I will use my time to write instead…shout out to Dr. Victoria Hsiao, also known as Vicky, for the Moleskine journal in which I wrote down all of my thoughts that follow.

Upon arrival in Indonesia, we discovered quickly that anyone who is someone has a driver. I estimate that a driver’s monthly wages are somewhere around $100-$120 USD a month – considered a decent salary, sufficient for supporting a driver and his family. Rather than hiring a driver, we have purchased a used vehicle, into which we normally cram 9 members of our 13-member team (the Kim children Josiah, Elliot, and Karissa are small, which helps). Today, no such cramming was necessary as only four of us – Irene, Ruth, Sarah, and I – were the only passengers. Driver, you ask? It’s Pastor Seth!

If you have not visited Southeast Asia, you’d be amazed to observe the commute to work. Over the past year in Ann Arbor, I drove to work every day sitting on the left-hand side of my car, driving on the right-hand side of the road, with the majority of my commute being State Street, which turns into State Road just after the Ann Arbor Municipal Airport – my uneventful daily commute ranging anywhere from 9-12 minutes. (And if you’re sitting reading this at 880 Technology Drive, Suite B, I miss all of you very much!) Although traffic this morning wasn’t terrible, we felt bad for Pastor Seth, who had the privilege of navigating the labyrinth of expressways and toll roads this morning without clear directions to our new place of employment.

The traffic during the commute is a sight to behold, as well. We do have lines that demarcate where each lane of traffic should be – but once off the expressway, they are essentially meaningless. At any given intersection, where three lanes of cars [mobil] might appear, there are at least six if not more! Ojeks, or men who offer the backseat of their motorcycles to passengers as a type of taxi ride, contribute to the convolution of the lanes – weaving between cars effortlessly, sometimes so close that should I open my window and stick my hand out, I could touch them. We also have minivans with the side door ripped off that function as buses, driving slowly enough so that people can hop in or hop out as they please. Interspersed throughout traffic are people – pedestrians and passersby. And then there are those who remain between the “lanes,” holding their wares on their heads or shoulders, looking to make eye contact with anyone who might want to buy something of theirs – a purchase which would contribute to their income, which would be valued at pennies, I’m sure. I find this heart breaking, because in order to not buy, one has to avert their eyes and ignore these vendors, who are people.

Today I will meet my new boss, who started this company 10 years ago with this thought in mind for the people of Indonesia: ”For a Better Life.” I saw this company mission statement on the green t-shirts of the women who greeted us this morning with smiles and bows, these women who are training to become domestic workers and maids, in order to give themselves and those they love a better life. I was expecting to work in a skyscraper somewhere in South Jakarta – even hoped for the possibility of being hired into the company that first employed me as a brand new graduate, since they have a bureau here in Jakarta. I actually work in a small compound, on the outskirts of Jakarta, located near the Soekarno-Hatta airport. Surrounded by rice paddies, with classrooms made from bamboo and thatch, I would hardly say that this was the place at which I was expecting to work. I should clarify that in spite of my previous expectations, I know that there is no place in the world that I would rather work than di sini – here. I decided this after our superior Jeffrey took us on a tour of the compound last week. I went from sitting in an air conditioned conference room with chairs big enough to get lost in, to stepping outside into another world – thick heat even so early in the morning, classroom huts surrounding the nicely manicured grass. Through the classroom windows, the four of us could see faces peering curiously at us. That day, I remember worrying about what to wear since “first impressions are everything” – after deciding on a 52% wool skirt and heels, I realized the impracticality of such vanity in this hot weather, and how silly my shoes sounded clackering on the pavement where these women stood, barefooted.

Between each classroom where we were greeted enthusiastically with “Good morning, ma’am – how are you, ma’am?” Jeffrey explained that many of the trainees were single women looking to support 2-3 children. He said that the divorce rate here is very high because the culture here is to marry very young. Hearing this from him reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend “Dr.” Matt Schumann on this topic – and reinforced the reality of not only the stress of making enough money to support a family, but also the reality of pain and heartache. I thought that I knew the pain of heartbreak when I ended my relationship with my boyfriend of two years, almost two years ago. And while the pain I felt is not invalidated by the greater suffering of others, I see that my perception of pain was naïve and very small. Jeffrey is more familiar with these women, and I don’t know if he sees more than just women who are training to be domestic workers. I am sure that he understands the plight of the poor here in Indonesia – otherwise he would not still be here at this company.

I know sedikit-sedikit [very little] Bahasa Indonesia, but I am hoping to be able to get to the point where the four of us working here can speak the heart language of these people – regardless of how well we pronounce things or any grammatical errors we make. I am no one to talk about pain, but I know a Healer who is qualified, who knows the deepest hurts of the heart, who experienced pain Himself, even death – but conquered it so that he, by being broken, could mend broken hearts – and also break them further again for his purposes. I can’t say that I enjoy having my heart broken. But if Christ’s heart broke over me, because in my heart of hearts I was so destitute and trapped in the poverty of sin, then a broken heart is what I want to have for other people, too. I guess this is the long-winded (as is the nature of kids who study political science) answer to “why Indonesia?” which so many of you asked me before I left. Mengapa [why]? For a broken heart.

discovering gifts

20 juli 2009

Kondominium Golf Karawaci, #6F

[9:48 pm - elektrik mati, or electricity off] Three air conditioner units, a washing machine, and one eventful switch of a light later (the last done by none other than yours truly), I am sitting in the hot, still darkness of our apartment – with the exception of the light coming from my computer. As early as it is in the year, I feel like I am already discovering new gifts I never realized that I had: bug killing (going on my resume as “freelance insect exterminator”) and the uncanny knack for causing blown fuses. Tonight is case number two for the latter, and I can feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I type.

I’ll share about the first newfound gift, since the process surrounding the discovery is actually quite amusing. On our first night in Lippo Karawaci [July 11], while exploring our tiny yet cozy and adorable kitchen (white cabinets, with red knobs and red countertops – we also have a white heart-shaped dish rack, which for me, was the icing on the cake), we discovered some creepy crawling neighbors – cockroaches!

[10:09 pm – the electricity is back on!] Rachel met our tiny neighboring tenants first actually, and I knew it from her screams. Two weeks, and I’ve already forgotten which roommate ran into the kitchen after her but whichever girl it was, the two chorused in a shrieking extravaganza. I knew that I could either join in the screaming, or we could do something to keep the cockroaches away. I grabbed a large can of bug spray and started spraying the floor and the counters. Once they reached the newly sprayed surfaces, the cockroaches started flipping over, legs flailing, and then were still. It seemed that our problem was solved – but it seemed that every time I entered the kitchen, there was a new cockroach. Total casualties to the cockroach population, before John Eom helped me to find the drain hole from where they were entering the apartment: 8.

If I took any sort of pride in the “courage” displayed from killing those bugs, I had a good slice of humble pie for breakfast the next morning when I realized that I have been developing another gift over the past year, which I happened to bring with me to Karawaci: blowing fuses. (And if Nancy Choi is reading this, she is probably laughing because she knows that it’s true…).

Before showering on Sunday morning, I spied a plug on the bathroom wall that looked like it would be the water heater for my bathroom. Without thinking about the further implications of having at least two air conditioning units running, along with the water heater in the other bathroom, I inserted the plug into the socket. Almost instantaneously, I was standing in darkness. If I remember correctly, poor Irene was in the shower at the time, and I’m sure she was surprised not only by the change in water temperature but also by the lights going out! With five women living in one apartment in Jakarta, it’s really easy to forget how much electricity we are accustomed to consuming – and that that what was second nature to us in terms of using energy is actually an overload for the resources that we have available to us here.

We found the fuse box in our apartment, but despite all of our attempts to get the power back on (e.g., flipping every switch), we were unsuccessful. Fortunately, when the power went out the first time, we were about to leave the apartment anyway for a day with a full schedule. Strike two, and I’m writing the night before embarking on a new adventure – working at Yonasindo Intra Pratama for one year.

Holiday

J.Co Donuts and Coffee, Supermal Karawaci - 12:00 pm

Almost two weeks since leaving Ann Arbor, but I feel like two months has passed by in the process of settling into our home in Lippo Karawaci, Jakarta - especially in light of Friday's events.  Southeast Asia teems with shopping malls, and within them abound people - and air conditioning!  I am sitting inside Supermal Karawaci, writing at Indonesia's version of Krispy Kreme (I just inhaled a green tea frosted donut!) on this national holiday, the Ascension of the prophet Mohammed, I have to say that today appears to be just like any other day.  

It has been interesting, however, as an outsider to observe the reactions of the nationals to the bombings in South Jakarta.  Yesterday, my teammates and I attended Gereja [church] Bethel Indonesia, a fellowship with over 500 churches all over this vast island nation.  The service was held in Senayan City, a super mall near Central Jakarta, and conducted entirely in Bahasa Indonesia - with the exception of the song "I am a friend of God." At one point, the worship leader halted, and spoke to the congregation for a few moments, after which everyone placed their hands over their hearts and began to sing, "I'm not afraid anymore" instead of the chorus "I am a friend of God."  This man was speaking to the people about Friday, and how we do not have to be afraid of anything if we place our complete trust in the Lord. What a comfort, especially in the face of circumstances that we cannot control.

On Saturday, we spent some time with a Michigan/HMCC alumnus Eunice, at Plaza Senayan (across from Senayan City), who has been working for the Singaporean Embassy here in Jakarta for the past month - located very close to the two hotels bombed on Friday.  She shared with us that she was actually supposed to have lunch at the Ritz Carlton on Friday, and that if the bombers had waited, she may have perished that day were it not for God's protection and care.  

What else can I say about life here?  Irene and I start work tomorrow with Ruth and Sarah at Yonasindo, a Human Resources Management company that trains maids and domestic workers to be sent overseas.  We actually have no idea what we will be doing, but I know that God has already thought of each task.  Our higher ups speak English, but the majority of people at the firm speak Bahasa Indonesia.  I am looking forward to this intense language immersion, especially after my first impulse purchase, Welcome to Indonesian - an English linguistic explanation of Bahasa Indonesia and comparisons between it and other Austronesian languages  (such a nerd, I know).  

Off to shop for blankets, peroxide, and other necessaries that we've forgotten - and then hanging out with Grace Liu tonight, hopefully for dinner and Harry Potter!  I'll share more about that and other adventures later.  Thanks for reading!

thoughts on the aftermath

Uno Cafe, Lippo Karawaci, West Jakarta 10:46 pm

Writing to you while sipping my new favorite love, lychee iced tea while listening to a rendition of "If I Ain't Got You" here at the Uno Cafe, across from Kondominium Golf Karawaci, also known as home (I'll post my official mailing address next time). Posting to let you know that yes, the Jakarta Team is safe and sound west of Jakarta on this Friday evening. I wrote out my thoughts below earlier this morning, when we first got word of the terrorist attacks in South Jakarta. One of the organizations that sponsored us for our visas is actually located between the JW Marriott and the Ritz-Carlton, and some of our teammates were actually in that area earlier this week. We are thankful for God's protection. He is good and faithful, even in the midst of uncertain circumstances. Disclaimer: I am actually light of heart right now, here with my teammates as we are all typing furiously to let you know that everything is all right. Know that you are in our hearts, too, and that we are thankful for you.

Friday, July 17, 2009 12:12 pm

Kondominium Golf Karawaci, #6F 

Writing while watching Al Jazeera English news, regarding the terrorist attacks [Bahasa Indonesia: serangan teror] that happened in South Jakarta earlier this morning.  To this point in my life, I can’t say that I have ever been so close to breaking news as I am now, sitting in my living room west of Jakarta. 

Wednesday morning, I was at home lining drawer shelves when I heard our front door open and the voice of two of my roommates, Sarah and Ruth, worriedly calling, “hello? Hello?” even though they knew that Irene and I were at home.  Ruth and Sarah had left not half an hour before, to do some research before starting work on Tuesday, so we were surprised to see them back so soon. 

“There was an explosion,” I heard Sarah say as she turned on the TV to see if what they had just seen was news, “and they were evacuating the mall,” where the girls had gone in search of internet access.  I looked out the window, and I could see the smoke rising over the mall and the mosque [masjid] nearby. The four of us were also supposed to meet our roommate Rachel later that morning, at 11:30 am at the Supermal Karawaci to do our grocery shopping for the week.  Rachel was already out running errands, and since our cell phone situation hasn’t been sorted out yet, we had no way of contacting her to see if she was all right. She actually returned home an hour after we were supposed to meet, exclaimed half-exasperated, “I was waiting for you!”

We inferred that whatever Ruth and Sarah had witnessed is actually quite commonplace, because it was cleaned up so quickly, which allowed Rachel to enter the mall to meet us, with virtually no knowledge of what had happened earlier that day. I mention Wednesday because it was an opportunity to give way to fear – just as today’s events are. 

I meant to bring the book The Hiding Place with me, but books are deceivingly heavy so I didn’t.  For those who have never heard of this book or read it, it is the autobiography of a Dutch woman, Corrie Ten Boom, who with her family hid Jews in a secret room in their home during World War II.  The plan was discovered, the family arrested and sent to concentration camps.  Corrie emerged after the war the only survivor.  I wish I had the book here so that I could quote verbatim something that Betsie, Corrie’s older sister, said to poignantly, regarding safety (so I will paraphrase): “There are no safe places in this world …but God is our Hiding Place.” 

One of my qualms about moving to Indonesia was the compromising of my safety – in particular, events like the things that happened today.  But now that I am here, even though it is frightening to think about how close we are to South Jakarta proximity-wise, and I am saddened by images flashing across the TV screen, I have a great sense of peace in my heart, and am comforted to know that no matter what happens, God is my security and my hiding place.   I shared all of this not to frighten you and make you anxious for my safety, but that you may take comfort in God’s care.

dua (2): a tear-strewn path

For those of you who know me very well, I think you won't be surprised when I say I was just lying face down on my floor crying like a baby.  And regardless of how well you know me, you may be surprised at the rationale behind the tears.  Might I add that these were not tears of sadness, in spite of the fact that my parents had left me to drive home to Kalamazoo just moments before.  The rambler that I am, of course there is always pretense...

"Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy, " said the psalmist (Psalm 126:5) 

I think there has not been a time in my life like these past almost two years where I cried so that my tears flowed like water.  Many of you reading these words saw me, broken and puffy eyed - with the ability to drench three paper towels easily in the attempt to dry my eyes.  And despite coming back to Ann Arbor for work, it was still confusing to be here without a clear direction or sense of purpose.  

Enter opportunity to participate on this journey to Jakarta, November 2008.  Crying a lot less out of sadness, but with this trip and all of the unknowns, a lot of opportunities to give way to fear and to fret often.  Everything in my limited knowledge about Indonesia was cause to worry: the tsunami in 2004, volcanoes, earthquakes, Japanese encephalitis- just to mention a few things.  Not to mention the fact that I am left-handed, moving to the most populous Muslim nation in the world, where culturally, the left hand is considered unclean and passing things with it is considered taboo!  

After a Thursday prayer gathering one wintery evening, a very dear friend and birthday twin pulled me aside, prayed with me, and even sang me these words which so poignantly described how I felt at the time:  "Sometimes my life just don't make sense at all/and the mountains seem so big, and my faith just seems so small...hold me Jesus, I'm shaking like a leaf/Won't you be my King of glory, won't you be my Prince of Peace?"  As we wrapped up our time of prayer together with one another, she said to me, "God has already thought of everything."  I really wanted to believe her, but as the months drew on, there were always something more to worry about - where we would get the money to pay for two years rent up front, when and if our visas would be processed so that we could stay in Indonesia for one year.  Thinking my acne was a thing of the past, it flared up even more as a physical manifestation of the stress and anxiety in my heart over things I was not entrusting to God.

Jump to - our visas have been processed, as of last week just before the 4th of July weekend, by the grace of God.  Also, I don't know where we stand financially as a team, but something wonderful happened to me today in which I was really able to see that my friend was so right when she said that God really has thought of everything.  After my parents left today, I began to read the cards written so thoughtfully by dear friends I have found here over this past year in Ann Arbor.  One friend, whom I will allow to remain anonymous, had slipped into my hand a package which she hoped would be "useful" to me during my time in Jakarta.  Inside, I found an envelope with $200 and more importantly, a few words which spoke volumes about only love.  I began to cry because each of the members of our team was responsible for purchasing our plane tickets with our own money.  I actually wrote the check last night - and I will admit that this year, it has been so easy to worry about money because everything extra was going into my savings, for this ticket!  

I was thinking this week about all the money going to the ticket and other start up costs, and how I would have to withdraw more money for the trip tomorrow and exchange it for brand new currency.  The suggestion was $300-$500.  I was thinking I would just withdraw $300.  I opened another card nestled inside a pink envelope from another very dear friend, and found $50 inside.  This time, I was really crying because my cousin and her husband had written me a card before I left home, wishing me well - with a $50 bill inside.  I was crying just now because the dollar amounts were exactly enough for the road ahead, demonstrating to me not only God's perfect provision in his perfect timing, but also the love that he has for me through these wonderful friends of mine.  I write to you now, with approximately 48 hours left here, with a heart of gratitude and peace.  

I have been apprehensive about this trip because I know that the road ahead will be difficult, and strewn with tears.  But now, I see that there is no need to worry about the money, about conflict that is inevitable between human hearts, or anything else that was troubling me.  And I never needed to worry, but for some reason, it was so easy to.  For however difficult I thought my road was before, I see how it has resulted in so much joy.  And I "eagerly expect and hope" for the road ahead, with whatever is to come because I know that whatever tears there will be, there will be so much greater joy.  

I hope that many of you reading this who don't have a personal relationship with Christ will be able to experience this same God who loves you so much, knows every detail about your life intimately, and whether or not you know what lies ahead for you in this life, that you can know that he has thought of it already.  

empat (4)

I'm perched on a bench adjoining the University of Michigan Administration Building, whose design I have actually loathed throughout my time here in Ann Arbor.  I'm sitting here because I wanted to sit outside and found an outlet (to charge my brand new MacBook - imac@umich.edu, the PC girl, converted finally...) on the side facing the Cube, the LS&A Building (another building with a loathsome exterior, in my opinion) and the Michigan Union.  (I'm really old-fashioned and prefer the architecture of places like the Union to my right, built in 1904, and the Kelsey Museum to my left).  

I mention my surroundings because I find myself sitting at the center of places that hosted certain significant moments in my life, which give the context for bringing me to four days before embarking on this next great adventure in my life, moving to Indonesia for a year.

April 2005, Helen Newberry House (due north of the LS&A Building).  My beloved and now dearly departed Toshiba A-75 Satellite was giving me rounds 1, 2, and 3 of problems.  One of my freshman year small group leaders was kind enough to pick me up from my dorm and take me to a computer repair shop on Technology Drive, south of I-94 where State Street turns into State Road. 

January 2008 I visited a professor of mine, whose office is inside the LS&A Building, in order to ask him for a letter of recommendation for my applications to law school - a jump I had been contemplating since eighth grade, but as a senior in college in the midst of an emotionally harrowing year, it was a leap I wasn't sure I was ready to take just yet.

My professor assured me that he would be more than happy to write the letter for me, and then said this to me: "I think you should take a year off.  Wait tables, read books, attend lectures - find that thing you are really passionate about."  I confess, I thought he was crazy to say so, but at the same time, his suggestion sounded romantic - not as in his feelings toward me, but as in something I never dreamed I would do.  I left his office that morning, thrilled to have secured my final recommendation for what I thought was this new direction in my life.  

June 2008, I was invited by my small group leader at the time to attend a conference in Dearborn, Michigan, on ministering to Muslims in the Islamic world.  Since it was something I never envisioned myself doing of my own volition, I decided to attend anyway and see what it was all about.  We met at the Cube for rides, and once at the conference, I met many people who were so burdened to share the love of Christ with Muslims, and the thought occurred to me that I had never really felt that way about anybody - but I wanted to.  

On the way home from the conference, I had a conversation with my then-small group leader, now-roommate, about these people I met whose passion in life was to share with people how the love of Christ had changed their lives in a wonderful and powerful way.  She listened to me thoughtfully, and then said, "I think you should really consider going on missions with our church."  By that time, it was too late to apply for a summer missions project.  But there I was, a college graduate waitlisted to several law schools, rejected by Teach for America, without a clue in the world as to what to do or where to go next.  I had no pressing commitments to anything, and my professor's suggestion to take a year off was sounding like a beautiful reality, and I wanted to do that here in Ann Arbor.

While the economy was not what it is now, this liberal arts kid found it difficult not only to determine a field of industry in which to work for a year or more, but also to find a job!  When nothing in Ann Arbor surfaced, I retreated home and started job searching from there.  When I felt I was at my rope's end one day in August, I prayed, "Lord, I just want a job.  I will do whatever you would like me to do, whenever you want me to do it, wherever you want me to go." That same day, I received a phone call from recruiting at Thomson Reuters in Dexter, asking me if I wanted an interview.  I had posted my resume at their website, without a cover letter, so I apologized to the recruiter, who responded by asking me if I still wanted an interview.  

I accepted a position in a 9 month internship at the Tax & Accounting Business of Thomson Reuters in Ann Arbor after a series of interviews - the last of which was located at 880 Technology Drive, right next to the place where I had taken my computer to be repaired all those years ago.  I took the internship, with no benefits and pay lower than a graduate of the University of Michigan might expect, because I knew that this would be a wonderful year to grow as a person and focus on "being" rather than just "doing." And when I moved back to Ann Arbor, I ended up living in an apartment down the street from the LS&A Building and the Cube, these places where I felt challenged to take the path laden with unpredictability.  

There's so much more to say in terms of the small details that clearly show that Jakarta, this place that I am moving to, is exactly where I am supposed to be for this time in my life.  I do have the tendency to ramble, and I've already written too many words.  But - our visas have been processed, as of this week!  Our fundraising efforts have not yielded the results that we thought that they would, but it's been a great opportunity to trust God to provide us with exactly what we need at exactly the right time. If you made your way through this inaugural post, I thank you for reading - and for those who are partnering with us in prayer and financially, thank you for joining us as we go on our way.  Four days (4 = empat in Bahasa Indonesia)!