Email ::: 11 November 09
So I'm kind of in love with Indonesia. Like skipping up the street, singing in the rain, I-don't-care-who-knows-it in love with Indonesia. Last night I was walking home with Sister M, the streets glittering with what little light penetrates the dark here to catch a reflection in the residue of recent rain, families gathered on front porches and curb-sides to share food or newspapers or stories, the air crisp and clean after a storm . . . we were singing Primary Songs in Indo and I never wanted it to end. And maybe it was because I saw a particularly dashing vintage Peter Pan illustration at the Mal yesterday, but I was feeling a little bit NeverNeverland. A little Lost Boys, a little full of flight, a little made of magic. Lately, it's all I can do to stop smiling.

And this is all still in Jakarta, mind you. I had four days with Sister S before she was transferred to Bandung with Sister A, and then it was just me, M, C and the new sisters to stay in JakSel. More Americans by a long run, and it's making me dizzy. When Presiden gave us the verdict last Saturday, I was a little up in arms about the imbalance. How dare he take my Indonesians away from me! But then it was all okay because I just decided I'll become Indonesian in Sister S's place and we'll be halfway back to well. And I already like sambil ["Sambil is the Indonesian version of Japanese wasabi. It is made from grinding up all sorts of “chili” peppers and it seems to be a contest to see how hot people can make it!" thanks Eric C.!] and Bahasa Jawa [the Javanese language], so it was a logical step anyway.

So now it's me, M, and H in a trio, which has been some real fun and some real (relative) success these past few days. I'm going to have to cut a lot of corners here as I only have five legitimate minutes left of emailing (stretch it to fifteen . . .), but here's the gist:

We have a progressive investigator. And not just progressive, maybe golden. Sister S and I met her at the mall with Sister Lily ages ago, and just in the last two weeks she started calling again, and has wanted to meet with us everyday since. She's 25, intelligent and educated and curious and thoughtful and yesterday testified to us that the BoM was true. We'd taught her about the Plan of Salvation. . ., and afterwards we're asking how she's feeling, if there are any questions, etc, and she sat still for a moment, gathering her thoughts together, one hand on the Bible open on her left knee, and the other on the BoM to her right. "It's true," she said. "It just. Makes. Sense."

Cue the Hallelujah chorus. You have no idea how amazing it felt to finally teach someone who could put the pieces together and see not only how they made a picture as a whole, but how they fit right into their personal picture, too. With that initial opener, she then went on to say how incredible she felt to hear that families can be together forever, that there was a life before this one and that there's a life after it, too. She said how she called us because she knew something was missing in her life, but she felt whole whenever she was with us. She told us how she'd gone home after her first lesson with us and called up her sister, telling her about this new scripture she just had to read.

The catch? She's moving. And yeah, we've already sent in the referral, but it's going all the way to America. Because she's off to law school in South Carolina on Sunday.

Still. Investigator. Glory, glory hallelujah.

And now it's a storm to beat anything I've yet to see here, and we've got to go back out into it. I'm sorry there's not more story and substance here, but I've felt a real disconnect in my thoughts since I sat down to the computer an hour ago and it's just not working like I want it to and (as usual) there's just far too much to say. The basics: happy and hopeful. Love Sister M. Sister H a welcome, witty addition to the companionship. Rainy Season=win. As always, heart the members most.

Kind of never want to leave right now.

love you.

Sister E.

ps: I can speak Indonesian! Crazy talk. I love it. And love you. Always.

Last Week ::: Part Two

. . . the major moment being PLD (Zone Conference).

It was bound to be good, seeing as we've been looking forward to it for weeks now. That first week we arrived was our last one, so on parting the five MTC originals were all handshakes and promises that we'd see each other at least by next PLD. Which turned out to be a little untrue---Elder G and SisLily have left us for the Solo PLD these days---but the reunion was no less joyous. Plus, it was only the beginning of a full weekend of gathering; our PLD coincided with District Conference for all of Java Barat, which meant we got a General Authority in the mix, too.

Elder Kent D. Watson presided. Presided, uplifted, enlightened----the gist of his lessons and presence will have to wait for a letter (things on the more emotional side are never any good to explain in the rush of a time constraint). His wife was especially engouraging, and just the general atmosphere of the meeting was something I've missed for a while; it was all the electricity of an MTC Sunday, with the added vivacity of being together as missionaries, as feeling some sort of unity in a country that constantly makes us feel the smallest drop of water in a tumbling storm. Within fifteen minutes of the opening prayer, I was feeling pretty good about life.

Until it came to talks----every PLD the message goes out from President what the topic will be (usually you can choose from 3-5 principles of PMG) and we're expected to prepare a three minute ceramah just in case it's our name called from the pulpit. That's the way it's presented on the program, too: Ceramah . . . . Mungkin Anda (Talk . . . Maybe You). And wouldn't you know it, by an inspired process of revelation known only to a GA, Elder Watson pulled my name out of his pocket. Mine, Elder S, and Elder M.

Which was okay, because I was prepared! Two pages written out in neat Indonesian script so I wouldn't miss a syllable of pronunciation, with clear references to the scriptures I would include if asked to speak on Hope. Except that Elder Watson, as the power and authority at the meeting, put a new spin on things: If you had been serving longer than a year, you had to use your second language. So Indos in English and Americans in Indo. But, if you had been here less than a year, you would share your thoughts in your mother tongue.

And there went my talk.

Because, given that I'd prepared it in Indonesian, it was a lot more simple than I would have kept it to had I been given the chance to speak in English. And there I was, given the chance. Luckily Elder S took the stand before me (delivering an address on Charity in fluid English, I might add), and by the time M got up to go next, I'd arranged enough of my thought into a somewhat workable outline that allowed me to listen to my former DL in relative peace.

It was classic Elder M, very simple and balanced but powerful to every point. And I couldn't help but smile; he'd chosen Hope, too. When I got up to follow him, I mentioned that we were definitely on the same wavelength still, as these last two months have been something of a crash-course in the principle. And then . . . I just talked. For exactly three minutes, managing to say all I needed to say and, in a true manifestation of the Spirit, saying it the way I wanted it said. It was a really good experience for me, realizing that I have changed these past four months, that an assignment that would usually mean excruciating hours working every last word to perfection and then read from the pulpit had become an easier thing for me, a rush, even. I didn't do it all on my own, of course, but it was still the push I needed to feel a little more the strength I've slowly cultivated since arriving in the MTC only four months ago.

Right. So if that's not enough, the rest of the PLD was super stellar, and then the very next day we all got to meet again with the Jakarta saints and then as missionaries at Senopati for a Halloween dinner, that ended in us singing Called to Serve in the loudest chorus we could muster, all 30 crammed about the piano where Elder L pounded the keys with little attention to any musical marks other than Forte all around. Sunday we taxied to Senayin, where the saints of West Java filled an entire conference room full with hymn and prayer and the little Primary choir that started it all was enough to break your heart and bind it up all over again. Joy, so much joy. It was the soaring high we all needed---numbers are lower than I would even want to tell you and it's only a sight like Saints that could overcome it.

I've got to sign off on this epistle if I'm ever going to get to pictures and a few more quick answers, too. Apologize for all the ADD. Love you.

Sister E.

And now for something completely different:::

Keluargaku yang terkasih:::

I'm just going to let you know from the get-go that I have yet to read a single email of yours this week---nor will I until I return home later tonight, and revel in the printed version for the quiet hour before bed. It's not because I don't love you, it's not because I don't need you; it's because the last seven days were Splendid + Extraordinary, and I plan to do them justice even with only an hour to write.

And yet even that needs another disclaimer: please do not expect anything especially spiritual in the following paragraphs. My adventures of late have not been so heavenly and I'm about to rattle on about baby tigers and cowboy shows.

Yep. You heard that right. I have officially fulfilled any dream I could've ever dreamt and today, this very day, spent the morning in company of wee leopards and lions, plus an orangutan and a particularly saliva-blessed zebra. Taman Safari Indonesia, family! Put it in your planners, because this is one thing I can't exaggerate: this little gem just outside Bogor is the Best Zoo in All the World.

Plus, it was all a secret. Sisters Trip. Elders in the dark. We meet up with Millecams and Reebers (the other mission couple assigned to Jak) in the church parking lot at 8, and got out of there as quick as we could, escaping to the mountains in the black mission vans with the angel Moroni trumpeting from the back window. The drive alone was worth it---Indonesia! It is green! It is beautiful! There is life outside the capital!---but the Safari itself? Magical. First you pay all of 7 bucks for your entire car to get through, passing about a hundred signs that warn you not to feed the animals, keep your windows closed, etc---and then promptly roll down all windows and pull out the box of carrots and bananas you've just bought in bulk at the pasar down the road. For the first hour it was just winding up through this wild jungle, feeding anything that came close enough. Which was just about everything---zebras, camels, antelope, strange-striped deer only found in Sumatra, hippos, rhinos, giraffes, the works. Oh, llamas. Those are so weird-looking. Anyway, we're just feeding these crazy animals, no big deal. Also hilarious because I'm the only one who would stick my arm out the window and offer a bunch of carrots or a banana, half-peeled. Indonesians are unbelievably frightable (word?), and my companions spent most of the ride squealing in the back seat.

So there I am, living my PetVet Dream at new heights, when we arrive to the main concouse and the BABY PETTING ZOO. Which is where I commenced a bit of squealing, too because HAVE YOU EVER SEEN LITTLE BABY WILDCATS UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL?!? Sorry about the shouting; the five-year-old in me hasn't quite worn off yet. It deserves the capitalization, though, and I've got the pictures to prove it. Maybe we'll just leave it at that?

Except, real quick: favorite part of the whole wild ride: the elephants. I could've spent hours at the Gajah Plaza, feeling a friendly trunk wrap about my wrist or snuff against my back in search of more bananas. They're so beautiful, these giant works of nature, and so gentle---though that didn't stop all the Indos from their constant worry. "Jangan!" they kept shouting, shying from the beasts as I reached up to wrap my arm around a neck. "Sister! Awas! Awas!" Bonus: Being called brave all day was a beautiful irony I more or less reveled in. When I sat with the mum panther, for example, a whole crowd of Indians had gathered to watch the spectacle (Team India!) and just kept saying over and over again, "So brave, so brave!" And I really loved to imagine them gathered about me on any other typical Indonesian day, as I hesitated to talk to the person next to me on a bus or angkot. Big cats? No problem. Actual missionary work? Hmm . . . still got a ways to go.

This just in. . . a photo courtesy of Sis. M, senior missionary extraordinaire and resident photographer:

Sister E looks up from her school kit packing duties. At current count,
17,000 backpacks filled with school supplies have been sent to the
earthquake-devastated area. Sis. M reports that the Church also
sent 200 huge army tents to be used as temporary schools.

(as always)

. . . it feels eons since I last sat down at a computer to write---or at least seven years, rather than seven days. A lot of change in these parts; a few trials, a few joys, and (as always) a whole lot of growing.

First, Sister K and I spent our final day together (Saturday) at the church again, from eight in the morning just about til five at night, where we proofread the final typesetter's copy of the newly re-translated Kitab Mormon. It was a blissful exercise to me, reading aloud with a red pen in hand, glad for our packet portion that included Ether 2 right through Moroni 10, some of my most absolutely favorite passages (and so even easier to understand with my limited Indonesian). We had almost 100 people there that day, all grouped into twos to catch punctuation errors or grammar abuse, stopping only for water breaks and one lunch-hour rest. I really enjoyed the work, and even with my four months of Indonesian could really see the difference in this translation, how the language more closely matches the beauty of the English translation and even more fully conveys the glory of this Gospel. It was incredible to be a part of something that will obviously mean so much more to the Indonesian saints.

But the end of that service project meant the end of our companionship, and with weary eyes and full hearts we watched Sister K climb into the car and off and away. She cried! I've never seen her cry. I realized that we'd managed to become friends sweet enough to feel pain at parting---in the course of only six weeks, with the language barrier to boot. I'm very glad she's going home to Malang, one of the few cities Sisters can serve in here and so that absolutely wasn't any sort of final goodbye.

Still sad. And nothing could have prepared me for what came next, either. President, thus far, had only waved us away when we pestered him about new companionships. Just as we were about to turn home, he called me over to reassign me to . . .

Sister L. As in just arrived from Solo, a brand-new missionary of barely 24 hours. And brand-new here is a little different from our brand new there---the newbies in Indo haven't been to the MTC yet, either. There are only a certain number of slots available all year round, so Sister L won't head to the Philippines until November, which means that for the next three weeks, I'm officially a Trainer.

I've been here six weeks, not six months---and besides my not knowing the language well enough for the task, Sister L hasn't learned the lessons to teach, either, so we're something of a sorry pair. Not that she's anything terrible----heavens no. We get along really well, and she's a talker with a capital T so there's never want for conversation and in these last few days my Indonesian has taken a definite upswing (she also knows absolutely no English). But I'll admit, I totally panicked. In the end, we JakSel Sisters banded together in a glorious display of our combined intelligence and sympathy and pulled off a plan that has this week worked really well: whenever I have an appointment, I split with Sister M or Sister S (so we have someone who can actually teach the lesson), and whenever one of them has an appointment, Sister L goes with them to learn the ropes. Anything else and it's up to me---which means those notes I've been scribbling this last little while have really come in handy.

So it's an adventure (as if it's ever not . . .) and things are picking up speed, if only slightly. . .looking back at the last seven weeks I feel tricked as to the passage of time. Especially when things start to go really well, it's all I can do to keep up with the month and date. October? Almost over? Soon enough the next round of American Sisters (and last, for awhile, actually) will be here and we'll no longer be the newbies.

Blast. I'm on a computer with a timer this week and it's quite the race. What else? Oh. Monday. The Best Day of My Mission Ever So Far.

So the very first week we were in Jakarta, Sister Lily and I met Sister O in the English Branch, an ExPat who's been here for eight years now and was ecstatic to finally have Sisters in the Branch. She had friends, she said, and she wanted us to teach them. We called President right away and he OK'd the split and there was much rejoicing as SisLily and I reveled in the chance to teach together again (we're quite the power team, if we do say so ourselves. *ahem*). But Sister O's friends were out of town, and SisLily was swept away to Malang, and so when it all finally worked out, it was me and Sister M at the dinner table, sharing the message of the Restoration with a lovely little family of three.

They're Indonesian, but speak excellent English. . . It was a casual affair---they'd mentioned to Sis O that they wanted to know more about the Mormons and so we simply discussed Doctrine over chicken enchiladas (an added blessing of the evening---oh, Mexican food!) while also talking about life and family in general. And family, this is how real missionary work is done.

Sister M was on fire, giving all the right answers in all the right ways in beautiful Indonesian which I could follow wonderfully, nearly every word. By the end of our two hours together, we'd become friends, had a fulfilling conversation with a side of actual ice cream for dessert, and a return appointment plus the promise of Church on Sunday and that they'd for sure read the Kitab Mormon and pray, too. I can't quite contain what this all means in the space of an email and especially in the sad writing I manage to spit out under a time constraint. . . But here's the thing: we were just doing exactly what all the prophets and apostles and PMG [Preach My Gospel] and MTC teachers have taught us over and over again: members. Members are the key to missionary work.

Oh, you should have seen us in the taxi home. I was talking a mile a minute---me! talking! Like crazy! In Indonesian, too! Laughing for no other reason than that we were happy. It was a real feeling of strength and testimony, the boost and blessing I needed after having a rather rough time of it only the day before. In that hour's drive home, I watched the Jakarta streets rise and fall outside my window with the strangest feeling at the sight: I didn't want to leave.

I'm getting better at managing my letter time, so hopefully I'll be sending another envelope your way soon. Until then,

kasihlah.

Sister E.

photos:

::With the wise & wonderful Sis. C
:: A handful of volunteers as we finished up our Padang work [see previous post] late Saturday night.
:: FHE
:: Sis. C and I with Vero & Tali, two YW from Bekasi who made the 14-hour-day full of fun.

this week's email

Subject: There are four little children in this internet cubicle with me, watching the crazy bule (foreigner) type. It's more than a little distracting. But also terribly cute.
Date: Oct. 14th

Family:

I was feeling somewhat more confident last night, as I lay on my little mattress awaiting sleep, running through the happenings of a Tuesday in Jakarta and imagining what a Wednesday might bring. I'd just said my prayers, and in that sweet half hour of silence undimmed by the purr of our little fan (broken in two places and still struggles valiantly on), I just waited, and listened. And the thought that came was this: start taking notes. Know places and people and bus stops and phone numbers, because life's about to get a little harder.

Funny, how that works.

President called this morning, with the news that Sister K's going to spend her last three weeks of mission in Bandung. As in, she's moving. Saturday. My senior companion and trainer, off and away just like that. Which means a few things: one, I'll have a new companion. Two, I'll be the one that "knows" Jakarta and therefore holds the authority in where we're going and what we're doing and who we're seeing. Three, I'm going to be here for a while.

Part of me might be a little upset about that, but most of me knows it's a major blessing that I'll praise later---everyone says Jakarta's the hardest place to serve in Indonesia, and it I spend my first 4-6 months here, I'll never have to come back. And I can spend Christmas at Senopati. And keep teaching the children's English Class. And have FHE with Ibu Astuti. And know exactly where to find the most top-notch Bebek Goreng in Tebet.

Still. I was really set on finishing out these last three weeks with Sister K. Change is never what you think it will be, is it?

So that's the news from today, and here's the quick list from the week:

Spent all Saturday (9 am to 11 pm) at the Church, along with every other missionary from Java Barat and members from all over the Jakarta region. School supplies for children in Padang finally arrived late the night before, so we were set to work first thing pulling together backpacks and pencil cases and erasers and rulers and 14 hours later we had filled 12,000 backpacks and 5 trucks for the cause. It was a beautifully long day, full of good, hard, work and the end result of feeling like we'd finally done something quantifiable here. Plus, I made some good friends in Bekasi, and we sang while we worked. Lovely.

Monday morning got to talk with Sister Lily! Her companion called our house to get a number from Sister M., so we had a few minutes to catch up beyond our weekly letters (I know, we're very nearly pathetic). That was quite lovely, too.

Yesterday taught a lesson, huzzah! Would write more but this computer has now died a total of four times and my patience is wearing thin along with the remaining time allotted. Am going to try to send photos again, too, so this is it for now.

Love you. Always.
E