Borneo Mama

Betah

2012-02-05T05:48:00.000-08:00

It's been about a month since we first arrived in Papua. Boxes are (mostly) unpacked, furniture is in place, we are in a school and work routine, and we are starting to feel "betah" - at home.

Papua is vastly different from Kalimantan, in many ways. The current weather season, for one, has taken some adjustment. Right now it's angin barat or "west wind" season, and every afternoon, a mighty wind blows through the house, making the curtains fly...

...and blowing all kinds of dust and dirt into the house. And that is something else that is different here - how quickly the floors get gross. For now, I am choosing not to have a house helper, so I am working hard to stay on top of the chores - but really, that's not such a bad thing. I recently wrote on the MAF blog about how the chores are good for me, which you can read here.

Our days start earlier here, and that has been an adjustment. If David is flying, he has to be at the hanger pretty early...

...so by mid-morning I feel ready for a nap! David says the terrain interior where they fly is wild and beautiful, with mountain peaks reaching above 14,000 feet in places.

The people are beautiful, too, with a totally different look from the interior people of Borneo.

Many of the people interior, and around the town where we live, use net bags called noken, which they hang from their heads. It's amazing what they can carry in them. Often in the afternoons an old grandma comes to our house, carrying several kilos of pineapples in her noken. It makes my neck ache just to watch her.

Carter has been on the lookout for any new and different critters - especially of the reptilian variety - and while he isn't currently keeping a snake, the cage is all ready for one, just in case. He was happy to spot this tree frog in a neighbor's tree.

I have missed my little canary Zip that I had in Borneo (sadly, we just learned of Zip's demise; rest in peace, little bird). But I am so happy to have a pair of black and white songbirds living in a tree in our yard. They sing and dance all day long, and are fun to watch.

Carter and Grace are adjusting well to their new school - I will try to blog about that soon - and Luke, Zoe, and I are enjoying our time together homeschooling this semester.

So...our work and school routines are falling into place, the house is arranged, we're adjusting to the climate...and now we're ready to look beyond ourselves and become involved in the local community.

One way we hope to do that is with the Papua Harapan School. This school, started by an MAF'er a few years ago, exists to help Papuan children - especially ones from interior areas where educational options are limited - have the opportunity to get a quality education.

This weekend, we, along with another MAF family, hosted a few of the Papua Harapan kids in our homes for a few hours of games and hanging out, just to get to know them. They are amazing, intelligent, and fun children, and we thoroughly enjoyed being with them.

We look forward to spending more time with these kids, and becoming more involved in the community.

First Impressions

2012-01-09T13:31:00.000-08:00

The Borneo Mama has landed in Papua, but the tyranny of the urgent is keeping me from changing up my blog to reflect our change in location. Bear with me!

We left Savannah a week ago on a cold and blustery morning. After three days en route, we and our four kids, 17 suitcases, and 11 carry-ons, arrived in the city of Sentani. I used to think traveling to Borneo was bad, but flying all the way across Indonesia added a whole new layer of fatigue to the trip. It just seemed so wrong to travel so far west, then south, just to back east and north. But - we made it.

Waiting to get our first glimpse of Papua

The flight arrived early morning and the views of the mountains and Lake Sentani were fantastic.

We live on the MAF base right across the street from the airport, so starting about 6 in the morning we can hear passenger announcements and airplane engines warming up. Other new sounds for us are the voices of dozens of preschoolers singing their hearts out at the preschool across the fence from our house. I was serenaded yesterday by a pair of black and white birds that were just lovely, but some not-so-lovely noisy birds come to roost in a tree by our yard every evening - literally hundreds of them, and they squawk and chirp and make the most racket.

Looming behind our house is Cyclops Mountain, which is often shrouded in clouds.

The kids have enjoyed the playground that is on base. Within a few hours of our arrival, our kids were running around the base with new friends. I forgot how dirty my kids get living in Indonesia, from all the playing outside and sweating. But they are happy!

We've been working to get our house set up this week. Thankfully all our stuff from Kalimantan had arrived and now it's just a matter of finding a place for everything.

Chaos reigns for the moment, but hopefully not for long. I love my new kitchen!

All kinds of things are growing around our house - so far I've spotted pineapple, chili peppers, mango, papaya, and avacado.

The MAF team here has been very gracious to help us with our settling in. They've provided meals, helped us unpack, taken us around town, and answered our questions. Even though we've lived in Indonesia for a while, this is definitely a different Indonesia than where we were before, and it's going to take some time to acclimate. But we are excited and grateful to be here!

Back to the unpacking!

2011-12-23T21:35:00.000-08:00

A rare moment - sitting together with both of my brothers. Hooray for Christmas togetherness!!!

Every Christmas my dad gets a cake. A few years ago he wanted a cake that said, "Happy Birthday Jesus" and instead it came out "Happy Birthday, Red". Last year he asked that "nothing" be put on the cake. So they had a cake with "Nothing" in nice red letters. This is what he got this year:

Dad said he wanted one word to encapsulate our Christmas this year, and this was it.

I guess it is a little chaotic, but it sure is fun. The kids are running around like crazy, the kitchen is overflowing with good things to eat, and my brothers are keeping us entertained on piano and guitar.

We spent a few days in the country with David's family, having Christmas with them. It's so peaceful where they live; I took several walks around their property to soak in the quiet.

The kids enjoyed time with their grandparents, making cookies, and checking out library books.

Zoe, accommpanied by her very musical grandmother, sang "Away in a Manger" for us.

Last week we took Carter and Grace on a field trip to court to see their grandfather in action. We watched as he weighed evidence then made decisions as to whether young offenders had to stay in detention until their trials, or if they could go home. I think it was sobering for C and G to see kids - some who were their ages - come shuffling in to the courtroom in shackles and handcuffs for their hearing. It was heartbreaking to hear the proceedings for one boy who had served his time, but had a mother who said she didn't want him, and no one else who could take him. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell from the slump of his shoulders that he felt no one cared about him. I almost stood up and shouted, "We'll take him!" as he was taken back into detention to await a foster home.

Another field trip we were able to do recently was a tour of Savannah. I forget that my kids haven't grown up here, and don't know all the history - the city's as well as our family's history, so we started at Bethesda, where D's family served as house parents, then went on to see our various homes over the years, and the Baptist Center, where my grandfather pastored.

The Indian chief Tomochichi's grave

Then Aunt Mary came to town, and her visit included a trip to one of our favorite places, the Tea Room.

This furlough the kids have really enjoyed taking part in children's activities at church. Zoe was able to dance as an angel in the Christmas program, and she loved every minute of it - especially wearing a costume.

A few random photos:

Recently we saw this white sparrow - which is apparently quite rare - at my parents' bird feeder. It made the kids miss our little canary that we left behind in Indonesia.

Oh, the love of a grandmother, that would allow a granddaughter to go crazy with the face paints.

Today we had to stop by Wal-Mart and it was a complete zoo. I couldn't believe all the masses of people, and all the masses of stuff the masses of people were buying. This is the part of Christmas in America that drives me crazy, and makes me yearn for our simple Christmases in Indonesia.

But there are definitely aspects of Christmas here that we love, the first thing being family. Other things that come to mind are cooler weather, fun Christmas activities in the community, and ready-made eggnog.

My computer keeps crashing, and I am taking it as a sign to finish this and get to bed so I can get up early to be the first to say "Christmas Eve Gift!" (first one to say it gets a gift - so goes our family tradition).

Merry Christmas, dear readers! May you be blessed beyond measure this Christmas season.

A Birthday, A Race, A Tree

2011-12-05T11:18:00.000-08:00

Last week, we celebrated Luke's birthday . His requests were simple: dinner at Chik-fil-A, a visit to Monkey Joe's (an indoor playground with huge inflated slides), and dirt cake.

Luke is a serious Lego builder, and spent several happy hours putting this jet together.

Later in the week, I got sick. It hit me quickly. We were having coffee with some supporters, then an hour later I was standing in the Kroger check-out line, simultaneously shivering and blazing, with a basketful of meds and teas, my favorite of which is ThroatCoat tea. If you've never tried it, I highly recommend it for sore throat.

Anyway, once we got home I went straight to bed and stayed there for several days, feeling so incredibly bummed out. Not just physically, but emotionally, as I had been planning to run the Savannah Bridge Run with David. We'd been training for several weeks, and despite the fact that I am a WLE - Woman of Low Energy (thanks to a bout of mono several years ago which seriously messed up my immune system), I was ready for this race and looking forward to it.

Race day rolled around and despite my cold, I forced myself up that bridge and met my personal goal of running the whole thing and not walking.

My dad is a runner, and has several marathons and half-marathons under his belt. I never quite understood his fascination with running and races, for to me running has always meant pain.

But while David and I stood at the starting line with thousands of other people, waiting for the race to begin, I got it. I realized why Dad gets so "geeked" about it (to use his terminology). Fun loud music was playing, and while it was cold, the crowd buzzed with energy and anticipation. It was like a big party. And then after the race there was more music, and snacks. What's not to love?

And while I know a 5K race is nothing to boast about (I mean, really, do you ever see anyone put a "3.1" sticker on their car?), for me, as an aforementioned WLE, it was an accomplishment, and it's given me the confidence to shoot for a longer race next time.

We finished off the week with the decorating of the Christmas tree. Does anything smell better than a fresh Christmas tree? If I only had one scent to enjoy the rest of my life, it would be a Frasier fir.

Mom still has many of the ornaments my brothers and I made as kids. I made this Santa as a second-grader in Mrs. Graham's class. Mrs. Graham, wherever you are, that was one of my favorite years of school.

My brother Jonathan, back when he was young and sweet.

My parents brought back purple Christmas balls from Germany when they lived their in the early '70s. Only a few remain, and they get a special place at the top of the tree.

And now it's less than a month till we head back to Indonesia. I have mixed feelings, as I always do, about heading back. We are ready to be settled in our new location, and ready to get back to a normal pattern of life, ready to get back to our ministry with MAF. But I dread the goodbyes with our family, which have not gotten easier with time. And there's the List that hangs over my head, of items to buy to take back with us. I am hoping to finish the purchasing and maybe even start the packing next week.

And hopefully we'll have time to take in some fun Christmas activities, enjoy tall, frosty glasses of eggnog, and spend some quiet moments contemplating Immanuel, God With Us.

Giving Thanks

2011-11-27T20:50:00.000-08:00

There was much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving holiday...

The eldest, who has become a Denver Broncos fan on this furlough, turned 14. He managed to somehow fracture his growth-plate, so he has a brace to wear for the next month. I love this kid and we are thankful for him.

Thanksgiving week also included a visit with one of my long-time best friends, Christy. We spent several hours in Barnes and Noble catching up on the last few years, then stood outside in the parking lot and talked some more. There was a funny moment when a car full of guys went by and hooted at us. I yelled, "We are so old, you don't even know!" to which Christy added, "Yeah, I have an orthopedic insert in my shoe!" So thankful for Christy, who always interjects laughter into my life, right when I need it most.

Thankful for this little beauty I cooked up and shared (sort of) with David on Thanksgiving Eve - leftover pie dough and blueberries.

I am thankful for cornbread dressing. It always makes me think of my beloved Mamaw, who passed away three years ago. She would be proud that I took pictures of the food.

This would be me, in the kitchen, NOT SWEATING. As much as I found myself missing our Tarakan family this Thanksgiving, I was thankful not to be sweating buckets whilst cooking.

I am thankful for a dad who cooks. Despite the fact that he insists upon putting giblets and other innards in his gravy, he knows his way around the kitchen.

Thankful for cousins!!!

And for good friends like Miss June. She is a friend from our Baptist Center days, when she taught me in Sunday school.

Thankful for time in the country...

...and for a father-in-law who takes his girls for pony rides.

I am thankful, so very thankful, for healthy, strong bodies. It was about a year ago this Thanksgiving that I started having all my stomach issues. There's no way that I would have had the energy to do this...

eight months ago. Praise God! And yay for leaf piles!

Si Kecil Turns Six

2011-11-20T20:22:00.000-08:00

Si Kecil, the little one, turned six this past week. She's been counting down the days to her birthday - her first one in America - for weeks. Normally in Indonesia we have a big party with all Zoe's friends, but this year we just did a family party. And while I missed our friends, I did not miss sweating in my Tarakan kitchen, frantically trying to make a cake look like a pony's head, and scrambling to come up with a party craft. Ahhh, a stress-free birthday.

Zoe wanted to go to lunch at the Pirate's House, a legendary restaurant in Savannah.

We sat in the part of the restaurant that is the oldest house in Georgia. And a real pirate came by to sing "happy birthday" to Zoe!

Here we are, making our best pirate faces.

At home, the kids whacked open a pinata from Bop, which was full of candy.

And if gobs of candy from the pinata weren't enough, I laid it on thick with a Candyland-inspired cake. I saw a picture of this cake a few years ago, but could never get my hands on the candy needed for it while in Indonesia. It was a big hit.

A kid's dream cake, right?

Zoe wanted two things for her birthday: to get her ears pierced, and an American Girl doll. We came through on both counts, although she almost chickened out of the ear piercing. Most Indonesians have their girls' ears pierced when they're infants, and I wish we had done that with Zoe. She was all excited about it, until we walked into the mall and got closer to the jewelry store. There were a few tears, but after it was all done she was all smiles.

Our little one, si kecil, has brought us so much joy. She is an energetic, affectionate, crazy little kid, who lives up to her name: life, full and genuine, which belongs to God.

And tomorrow we will be celebrating her brother's birthday. Carter (who doesn't live up to his name - "cart-driver" - we love him anyway) will be 14. Yep, I feel old.

The Adventure Continues

2011-11-09T13:27:00.000-08:00

Last week we returned from our last big trip of this furlough, our Blitz Tour of New England, also titled "David Finally Makes it North of the Mason-Dixon Line" and "How Many Seasons Can We Experience in One Trip?"

With the kids, their schoolbooks, David's sister Anna and her new-hubby Rich, Anna's wedding dress, and our winter coats all packed into the van, we set off.

Our first stop was in Virginia to see my college roommate JJ and her family. I haven't seen JJ for about 10 years, so this visit was loooong overdue.

Next we stopped in New Jersey for two nights and stayed with our friend Kevin. He and his wife Linda have come to Kalimantan for the past few years to lead our MAF family conference. Linda was away speaking at a women's retreat, but Kevin was our trusty tour guide for a whirlwind tour of New York City.

We've been spoiled by riding the immaculate subway system in Singapore. The New York subways left a bit to be desired, but the kids loved it nonetheless. A few blocks after exiting the subway we ran into the Occupy Wallstreet people. Frankly, we were unimpressed. There just wasn't much to it, at least not on this chilly morning.

We visited the 9/11 Memorial which opened in September. The security was tight, and the mood was somber.

We took a ride on the free Staten Island Ferry to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

"Give me your tired, your poor, your crazy brother-in-law, yearning to be in the picture!" quoth Lady Liberty.

The weather was clear, which meant we could ascend to the top of the Empire State Building. Despite the metal fence surrounding the viewing area, I couldn't help but clutch the backs of the kids' coats, in the very unlikely event that fence should fly off. David laughed at me, but he agreed he felt a little woozy, too. We all felt the "tingles" being up so high - for me, it was in the backs of my knees; Grace said it was in her stomach.

It gave me the willies for Grace to put her hand through the fence like this. But the view was amazing!

Next we went to Central Park and visited the statue of Balto, the famous sled-dog.

And one of the most entertaining things we saw was this hawk devouring a mouse in a tree above us. The kids were fascinated.

After a stop by F.A.O. Schwartz, we walked to Times Square and sat for about an hour and just watched the craziness of New York City whiz by us.

So much to look at...big screen tv's, Broadway musical ads (sigh...maybe next time), the Naked Cowboy (um, only a brief glance at him!), and people, people, people! That's our friend Kevin in the picture above. I love how we're all looking in different directions in this shot.

At the end of the day, I asked Luke what he enjoyed most about New York City. He thought for a minute, then said, "Well, that hawk eating the mouse was pretty cool." I just had to laugh. So often that is how it goes with our travels. I make plans, choosing sights that I think might interest the kids, and in the end it's the spontaneous, unplanned-for experience that they most enjoy and remember.

The next day, as we continued our journey north, it started to rain. Then it started to sleet. By the time we reached Aunt Mary's house in upstate New York it was snowing. Yippee! We bundled up then headed out for a once-every-few-years walk in the snow.

This jungle bunny was cold!

The juxtaposition of the snow on the orange and red leaves was just beautiful.

Our next leg of our trip took us to Plymouth, Massachusetts. Together with Aunt Mary and Uncle Harvey, we toured Plymouth Plantation, the Mayflower II, and Boston. We were going to do a whale watch, but the weather turned foul and the trip was canceled. A historic nor'easter blew through and we experienced some crazy cold wind and rain.

Inside a Wampanoag summer home

"Good morrow, sir, how do ye fare?"

The staff at Plymouth Plantation were all in character, and it was hard not to start speaking in a British accent as they were.

We hired Carter out to split wood.

Plymouth Rock - are you supposed to spit on it?

And I thought we were cramped in the van. Can you imagine living in these quarters for two months aboard the Mayflower? Yikes!

Zoe swabs the Mayflower deck.

The girls pose with the ducklings (from Make Way For Ducklings) in Boston. I was feeling rather duck-like myself at this point.

This was the morning after the nor'easter, which blew the hotel's sign clear away!

The last leg of the trip was Philadelphia. We saw the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and Ben Franklin's grave. Then it was on to cheesesteaks...

David liked Pat's...

I liked Geno's.

So we're home for a bit, and as much as I love to travel, it's nice to put the suitcases away for a while. We are enjoying time with my parents, who have been so gracious to us - letting us stay with them, taking the kids for field trips (they're out on one now), and making our time with them very special.

The Agony & The Ecstasy

2011-10-17T17:09:00.000-07:00

The past few months of furlough have been like leaping from one mountaintop to the next - exhilerating but exhausting. We've been living like vagabonds; weeks have gone by and I haven't been able to put my suitcase away. I love the traveling, I love seeing people, I love all the yummy things we've gotten to eat, the places we've gotten to see. But I'm starting to wear a little thin.

David asked me today how homeschooling went (he had jury duty, of all things). I replied, "Well, okay, I guess. I didn't have to leave the room and cry." Maybe that was an exaggeration of how schooling is going - but at times it can be supremely frustrating trying to school the kids in all the craziness of our lives right now.

It's weird to be in this in-between place of having said goodbye to our home in Tarakan, and never having seen our new home in Papua, and having no permanent home in America. I feel like I don't really belong anywhere at the moment - except on the road, atlas in one hand, eighth-grade math book in the other, yelling over my shoulder, "We'll be there when we get there!"

That would be the Agony. Here, my friends, is the Ecstasy:

Watching Hurricane Irene Slide By the Georgia Coast:

Ole Miss home game against BYU with my dad and younger bro and family. It was a cultural experience for us all. After the national anthem was sung, Zoe asked, "Is it over? Can we leave?"

Swimming in Papaw's pool in Mississippi

Fishing with Papaw

At Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, Aunt Judy and I contemplate the beignets we've just ordered.

Sugar-coated goodness.

With my sweet cousin Leslie. We have so many fun memories together of vacations spent at our grandparents' place. She and her family live in a suburb of New Orleans that was heavily damaged by Hurricane Katrina.

On our way to Colorado for Anna's wedding, we stopped in Texas. We went to church at the Village church in Dallas, and heard some great teaching from Matt Chandler - you can hear him for yourself here. After several Sundays in a row of giving our MAF presentation, we welcomed the break from hearing ourselves talk. :-)

We broke up our long drive through Texas with a stop at the kitschy restaurant Big Texan. We watched, with a mixture of awe and revulsion, as the man below attempted to eat the Big 72-ouncer. If he could eat the whole meal in an hour, he got it for free. When we left, he had barely made it a dent in the steak and was sweating profusely.

The wedding week in Colorado was immensely enjoyable - lots of kids playing, food, late night talks, and celebrating David's sister Anna and her now husband, Rich. Here they are at the rehearsal:

Lovely Anna on Wedding Day

The nieces were the bridesmaids. Here they are with Grandma and Grandpa.

The whole family, exceptin' Carol and her crew.

Mr. and Mrs. Lebedda

After the wedding we booked it back across the country at break-neck speed - well, for us. One day we drove 700 miles, with only two quick stops - no small feat considering there were six bladders on board. Why the hurry? A trip to Florida to speak at two churches, and Disney World! I know it's probably rather juvenile, but I love Disney World. David would say it's more like an obsession, but really, it's not. I just want to get the most bang for our Disney buck, which means getting up really early to beat the crowds. And having the day all planned out so there's no aimless wandering, wondering what to ride next.

The family gave me a hard time about being a commando with my Disney plan, but it works and we had hardly any wait on rides and only a few meltdowns.

This trip, we discovered that Zoe is a little adrenaline junkie and loved the roller coasters - she just didn't care so much for the noise.

Unfortunately she was too short for this one. That's David and Luke rockin' it in the front, Grace and I behind them.

David will probably kill me for this one, but it cracks me up. A silly moment in France, in Epcot. Unfortunately I don't have a picture of our favorite Disney moment. We were in Magic Kingdom and a thunderstorm was rumbling through. We dashed over to Big Thunder Mountain Railroad it ride it one more time before they shut it down. We were the last train they go out, because the heavens opened and it absolutely poured on us. Lightning and thunder and rain on a roller coaster - it was crazy fun! I could hear people down below cheering us on.

We wrapped up our time in Florida with these friends, who have been pen pals with our kids for a few years.

These have been the mountain top moments. But there have been lots of every day, ordinary times that have been just as enjoyable. The kids taming a kitten at their grandparents' farm. Eating cereal any time of day. Walks under moss-covered oak trees at Skidaway Island State Park. Hearing my dad laugh as he reads the comics to the kids. Watching my nephew smile as we put a puzzle together. I am thankful for these little moments that help me enjoy our furlough - despite the craziness of it.

America the Beautiful, Part 2

2011-08-23T18:26:00.000-07:00

After leaving the shrunken heads in Oklahoma we drove across Missouri to visit the iconic St. Louis arch. Before visiting the arch, we checked into our hotel, a Homewood Suites, which is now my favorite hotel chain. Not only do you get an awesome breakfast, but a buffet dinner on some nights, as well. It's all about the food, and also all six of us had a bed to sleep on - no one on the floor. I digress...

All of us but Carter - who suffers from acrophobia, enjoyed the ride to the top of the arch. The sun was setting over St. Louis and the view was beautiful.

Lovin' it!

Hatin' it.

The next day we visited the St. Louis Zoo, which was free! Gotta love those free attractions. Our kids consider themselves zoo conniseurs, and they rated this zoo up there with Singapore's.

Touching stingrays

Seeing this hornbill reminded us of our Borneo home

As did this critter

From St. Louis we drove south to Nashville and stayed with my older brother and his family for a few days...

...then we went on to north Georgia and stayed with my younger brother and his family.

Finally, after two weeks on the road, we made it to southern Georgia. We've enjoyed time with our parents.

Driving the golf cart with Granpa

Playing the piano with Grandma

And David caught this huge fish in the lake. I love how it looks like the fish is swallowing the dog!

Bop and Luke have a lego-building competition.

So we have a few weeks to catch our breath before we hit the road again. We're in our third week of home school, and we've spoken at four churches so far. This past Sunday David and I took turns getting emotional as we spoke at a church; the emotions of saying goodbye to so many dear friends in Inodnesia are still quite raw.

Until next time...

America the Beautiful, Part 1

2011-08-16T15:23:00.000-07:00

Fourteen states.

Fourteen different beds.

Fourteen thousand times we heard "Are we there yet?"

Our first big road trip is behind us, and what a trip it's been. We've been reminded along the way of many of the things we love about our home country.

Water fountains. Automatic soap dispensers. The ease with which you can do laundry, wash dishes, and get an internet connection. Berries. Family.

There have been the normal return-to-America adjustments. The need to remember the right side of the road to drive on. Clearing away our own garbage at fast food restaurants. Remembering not to feel offended if someone hands me something with his left hand.

The adjustments have been hardest for the youngest one. Zoe - who last visited her passport country when she was three - has virtually no memory of the U.S. She keeps asking me what island we are on. I had to pull out the atlas and show her the big "island" of America.

She also keeps asking me when we're going to have "normal" food. The rest of us can't get enough of frosted shredded wheat, Chik-Fil-A, and deli meat, and poor Zoe just wants some nasi (rice).

She is learning that the U.S. flag is not just displayed on July 4th ("Look, Mom, there's the Fourth of July flag"), that everyone around us can understand English and we can't just talk openly about them (a few embarrassing incidents with that one), and that we can take books from the library FOR FREE. She was totally amazed.

And so am I. This is truly an amazing country, a good bit of which we got to see on our long drive. After Hawaii we flew to the mainland and were met by my parents who drove their van out from Georgia. Wasn't that nice? My dad kept saying he was going to look for an old beat-up station wagon to drive out, so that my children could experience road trips like I did - no seat belts, am radio, no a.c., and a car top carrier.

Instead they drove out in their Honda Odyssey (which does have a car top carrier), then flew back to Georgia so we could ride in style. Our first stop was my Aunt Brenda's place in northeastern Oregon, where we grazed in her garden, went on a boat trip down the river (saw a bear!), and watched lightning strike a tree and catch it on fire.

Foraging

Our Catch

From Oregon it was on to MAF's headquarters in Nampa for a few days, then on east to Colorado. We spent a week with David's brothers and their families. The kids had so much fun reconnecting with their cousins.

With cousin Rachel

Zoe and Pharoah

With the Fort Collins cousins

The road trips of my childhood consisted of driving to out of the way places to visit free (or nearly free) points of interest. I wanted my kids to experience the same. Driving east through Colorado we passed through the little town of Burlington and stopped to ride the historic Kit Carson County Carosel. 25 cents a pop. 105 degrees.

This carosel, made in the early 1900s, had some unusual animals for a merry-go-round - lions, tigers, dogs, zebras, and a giraffe with a boa constrictor wrapped around its neck. Yeah, a little creepy.

Speaking of creepy, I should warn you, gentle reader, that there is a picture of shrunken heads coming up. If that kind of thing makes you squeamish you may want to quickly scroll through the pictures.

From Colorado we headed on to Kansas, where we visited one of the home sites of Laura Ingalls Wilder. This site, near Independence, is where her book Little House on the Prairie was set. The number of minivans with car-top carriers in the parking lot attested to the fact that it's one of many Little House sites that faithful readers make a pilgrimage to see.

"Pa, the rabbit stew and corn pone are done!"

A replica cabin on the site where the Ingalls family lived. Looks the same as it did when I visited in '83.

We met Laura in the gift shop.

After Little House, we went on to the Woolaroc Museum. Now, this is a place that has lived large in my imagination since my family visited when I was a wee lass of eight. My father wanted to visit this particular museum because it housed the world's largest collection of shrunken heads. As a kid, the heads both fascinated and repulsed me. So of course I had to take my own kids there.

I think we chose the hottest day in Oklahoma history to visit - it was 110 in the shade. The parking lot was eerily empty, but the museum was gloriously air-conditioned. Once inside we headed straight for the head display...which, no pun intended, seemed to have shrunk since I was eight.

Are you ready?

Here they are...

The heads were from South America, and just were too little to seem real. Completely creeped out, we didn't linger long at the display, which - in my eight-year-old's mind - had taken up a whole wall of the museum.

The rest of the museum is full of Wild West paintings and Native American artifacts.

Next post: St. Louis to the Atlantic!

Hawai'i

2011-07-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

The horrible goodbyes are behind us. And they were horrible. I'm not quite ready to blog about our last week in Tarakan just yet...I need some more time to pass so I can type without crying.

But what I AM ready to blog about is beautiful Hawai'i! We arrived last Thursday after traveling through Balikpapan, Singapore, and Tokyo. The flights went fine - it's amazing how much easier it is to travel now that the kids are older - no pacifiers, diapers, etc. - everyone carrying their own bag, and a few able to help tote the big bags.

Zoe really enjoyed the water fountains and automatic soap dispensers at the airports we traveled through. It doesn't take much to give our kids a thrill.

Our reason for traveling to Hawai'i was to visit our supporting church, Berean Bible, on the Big Island. You can read more about them here. They arranged for us to stay in a fantastic beach house situated right on rugged lava-rock cliffs. All day the waves crashed into the cliffs, sending up salt spray and creating the most sopophoric sounds to sleep to. There it is. My favorite SAT word. Have to use it when I can.

From the heights of the world's largest mountain to the roiling depths of an active volcano, we took in several of the amazing sights the Big Island has to offer. We drove to see the beautiful Akaka Falls, which reminded me very much of some waterfalls we've seen in East Kalimantan.

One night we drove to Volcanoes National Park to see the lava glow. We wrapped up like bedoins (57 degrees feels cold to our thin jungle blood!) and sat for as long as the kids could endure (about five minutes) and viewed the red-hot caldera.

Another night we headed up the slopes of Mauna Kea, Hawai'i's iconic mountain that is renowned as the world's best place for viewing the stars. We went up to the visitor's center at 9,000 feet and waited for the sun to set so we could hopefully do some stargazing.

The view was incredible, and once the sun set and the clouds cleared we had a crystal-clear view of the stars. The moon was quite bright, so we couldn't see the Milky Way, but a telescope view of the moon made up for that, and the kids were excited to see Saturn's rings through a telescope.

We didn't shiver the whole time we were on the Big Island...we did manage to get in the water some. The place where we stayed had a minature pool, and we got to swim in a lagoon with friends from the church.

On Sunday we shared a presentation about our work with MAF at the Berean church. Since we last visited there in 2004 they had constructed a lovely church building that is perfect for the tropics. They opened up side doors and let the breeze blow through. After the service we were treated to a pot luck lunch, and some Hawaiin music. One of the ladies even taught me a simple hula dance - so much fun!

The two ladies in the picture below sang for about an hour. It was the quentessential Hawaiin experience for me - sitting, enjoying the breeze, chatting with long-time Hawaii residents, listening to this beautiful music. We really enjoyed our time there.

This morning we flew back to Honolulu and went to Pearl Harbor to visit the U.S.S. Arizona memorial.

We then headed to downtown Waikiki to eat at a restaurant we saw a blurb about on one of our flights that the tv food guy Anthony Bourdain visited, the Puka Dog.

Buns are toasted on these sharp burners, then filled with different relishes, like mango and pineapple.

David is taking suitcases down to the hotel lobby, so this is it for now. We're hoping to drive up to the North Shore, see the surfers, and eat some shave ice before heading to the airport to catch our overnight flight to the mainland.

Aloha!

2011-06-28T22:03:00.000-07:00

What a crazy couple of days it’s been.

Yesterday was Pack the Container Day. We are shipping our stuff to Papua via a 20-foot container, so Monday night David and I were up past one, boxing up and wrapping our worldly goods. I was hanging out laundry at midnight, having just remembered my aprons hanging on the back of a cabinet. You’d be surprised at how much noise there is at midnight here – roosters crowing, toads croaking, the night watchman banging out the hour on a pole.

Tuesday morning a crew arrived to help take our stuff to the dock where the container is. In just a couple hours all the stuff was gone.

The truck is loaded. Note the sweet grafitti.

It is a relief to have a bare house, after the craziness of packing up. And yet it is sad, too. Our voices bouncing off the walls, and the early morning light coming in earlier than usual because of the lack of curtains attest that our house is EMPTY.

My sentimental side has kicked in, and allowed a floodgate of memories to hit me when I am already feeling emotionally vulnerable. I stood in our playroom/schoolroom yesterday, and thought of all the playing and learning my kids did in that room. In the kids’ bedroom, by the door, are the fading marks of where we’ve marked their growth over the years, the first mark for Grace – now a gangly 11-year-old – barely two feet off the floor.

Our kids learned to talk, walk, ride a bike, read…so many things in this house. Leaving here is the end of an era for our family – the end of the Holstens With Small Kids Era. And while there are some awesome perks to having older kids, I am sad to leave the small kid era.

And Orpa is pregnant, and I am bummed that I may never get to hold her baby, my “grandchild” if you will. Many Indonesians wish to have children right away after tying the knot – sort of making their family or the marriage complete, I guess – and Orpa and Herry were no different. She and I have had our first good cry – she flung herself on me the other day and I held her as she sobbed, “Oh Ibu, I never got much love from my own parents…it wasn’t until I lived with you that I truly felt loved.” So yeah, this goodbye is going to be pretty tough. She made soto ayam (Indonesian chicken soup) for us one last time yesterday, which was sooooo good. So good that we had it again for breakfast this morning.

Comfort food

Monday was kind of an insane day – David flew one last time in the Krayan region, and there was room for Zoe and I to go along. The plan was to drop a load of passengers in Long Bawan, then another load in Long Layu, then head over to Paupan where one of our adopted families lives. We were hoping to be back in Tarakan by 2 so we could get back to packing.

Alas, it never seems to go according to plan when you really need it to. The load of passengers was a group of immigration officials who wanted to hang out in Long Bawan for a little while before heading over to Long Layu. So we had to wait while they did their visits – but we were invited along so we had a meal, which I was happy about. Any chance to eat the wonderful short-grain rice of that region, along with a side of wild ferns, I take it.

With the immigration officials

On one leg of our trip Zoe got to sit up front with David and “fly” the plane. She is our fearless one and was more than excited to go “weightless”.

When we finally got to Paupan, we had to rush it a bit. Zoe and I went on a little walk, and I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I was able to say goodbye to the beautiful wild jungle of Borneo. Our “father” in Paupan, Pak Ajang, hosted a little goodbye meeting for us, which was followed by a meal. He and his family rode with us back to Tarakan, where they will wait for the birth of their second child. Their older son, Bryan, is 14 and will be living in Tarakan to go to high school. For years they've wanted a second child, and it's finally happened.

Pak Ajang (standing) formally bids us farewell

Goodbye Borneo! (photo by Zoe)

A Dilemma

2011-06-13T05:38:00.000-07:00

What to do with the dog?

Sandy

Sandy, our beloved mutt with the face of a fruit bat, will not be able to accompany us to our new home in Papua. We acquired her after the unfortunate demise of our first dog, Sydney, who was accidentally given away to be eaten for Christmas dinner. No joke!

For eight years she has guarded our home well - sometimes, a little too well. She's a barking fool, as my neighbors can attest, and as she gets older and grumpier the barking has gotten worse.

Carter and Grace with little Sandy, 2003

Unfortunately, because of her incessant barking, she scares the hooey out of most Indonesians. I feel badly about that, and we try to put her up when we know people are coming over.

So no one really wants her, and I would be hesitant to give her away, actually, knowing how she can be with strangers. I don't want her biting anyone. There is also the very real possibility that if I give her to someone, they would eat her. And one of our dogs getting eaten is enough. If there were a humane society or animal shelter here, I would probably take her there, but alas, no such option exists.

So, sadly, we will probably have her put down. Our friend, Tim, has offered to do this after we leave. As he said, "Hey, that's what friends are for - we kill each other's pets."

Another sad goodbye. Poor Sandy. She's been a good dog, even if she has driven me half-nuts with her barking.

The Goodbyes Begin

2011-06-01T00:47:00.000-07:00

The painful process of pulling up our deeply-embedded roots from East Kalimantan has begun. Our first few years in Tarakan, I would have had a hard time imagining myself depressed at the thought of moving away. There were times when I could have left and not looked back. But the longer we stayed the more betah or at home we have felt.

For months I've been saying to myself, a la Scarlett O'Hara, "I won't think about packing and saying goodbye right now - I'll think about that tomorrow." Tomorrow has arrived and our goodbyes are beginning. I have always been a sentimental sap - in part thanks to my dad who would often say things to me like, "This is your last Thursday as a third-grader" or "That's the last turkey sandwich you'll eat as a 13-year-old." Silly stuff, but it did ingrain in me the need to "mark the moment" be that moment the end of third grade, or a move across the country. So my next few posts will "mark the moment" and hopefully help me process the goodbyes in a healthy way so I'm not a mess at the airport when we leave.

Monday I flew with David for the last day of his operational flying in the Apo Kayan region of East Kalimantan. He wanted to "pamit" or officially take leave of his friends in the villages there, per local custom. There is also a cultural tradition to "minta maaf" or ask forgiveness from your friends for any possible sins committed against them. So in each of the villages David gave a little speech about how much he is going to miss the people there, how thankful he is for their friendship, and to forgive him for any possible misunderstandings.

Getting ready to take off in the Kodiak

David with Taman Bang ("father of Bang") in the village of Mahak Baru. Taman Bang and his sister, long-time airstrip agents, are good friends of the MAF pilots. They usually have lunch waiting for the pilot, and Monday was no different. We feasted on fried chicken, rice, sauteed pakis (ferns), and - what Mahak Baru is famous for - fresh pineapple. The pineapples from Mahak are the best!!!

Taman Bang hacks into a freshly picked nanas (pineapple).

Me with Taman Bang and his daughter. Taman Bang's sister gave me the necklace.

David receives an ornately-decorted machete from the village elders.

As we flew to other villages, we were likewise showered with kind words and gifts - baskets, hats, sugar cane. I got choked up watching David fight tears as he said goodbye to friends he's known for almost ten years.

Flying home that afternoon, my eyes hungrily took in the miles and miles of lush, pristine jungle and I thought of the people who live in the little villages below. Their lives are directly impacted by MAF - like the woman who was one of our passengers that morning. She told me how she was returning to her village after going to Tarakan for treatment for a miscarriage. She and her husband have hoped for a baby for five years, and were very disappointed over their recent loss. "But," she said, "I am so thankful the MAF plane came to get me when it did."

Laden with gifts from interior

The goodbyes continued today with the departure of Dorkas, a young woman who has lived with our family for the past three years. She is our house helper Orpa's younger sister, and she worked for us part-time while attending a local high school. She just graduated, and today she departed for her home island of Sulawesi where she hopes to go to nursing school. She was a great help to us, and has such a sweet spirit about her. We will miss her, especially Zoe who would spend hours playing with her in the back yard.

So I'm hoping that by crying a little bit over the next few weeks, I'll save myself from the really big ugly cry that's been building.

What Can't you carry on a motorcycle?

2011-05-25T19:05:00.000-07:00

We're always seeing goofy things around town, in particular people on motorcycles and the various items they can carry on them: goats, families of six, gas bottles, etc. We never seem to have a camera handy when we need one. But here are a few we shots we got recently:

Need your tv delivered? No problem!

Rear-facing child seat.

Crackers anyone?

Driving is never a dull experience here!

Easter

2011-05-02T06:47:00.000-07:00

Easter morning found us scrambling, as usual, to get ready for church.

"Flowers!" I remembered. "We need flowers!"

Our Indonesian church has an Easter tradition that I absolutely love called "flowering the cross". Everyone is asked to bring flowers that are then attached to a large styrofoam cross.

I loved sitting in church, surrounded by people clutching flowers freshly cut from their gardens - orchids, bougainvillea, and that's where my knowledge of local flower names ends. Living here where it's perpetually summer, I often forget what season it is in the U.S. All the flowers reminded me that it is spring.

Attaching our flowers

The "flowered" cross - a beautiful symbol of hope for Easter morning!

Zoe and Grace with "Oma" - a sweet grandma from our church.

Grace's birthday was a few days before Easter, and she had a party with some of her MAF friends. We made some Easter crafts...

...and Grace ate a stack of 11 pancakes - one for each of her years of life!

The Wedding

2011-04-20T22:40:00.000-07:00

The wedding is over, and what an experience!

A few days before the wedding, we were invited to take part in a premarital counseling session for Orpa and Herry at their church. They had already met twice privately with the pastor, Pak Niko, but this third session was open for the church elders, family, and anyone else the couple wanted to invite. Different people, including us, stood up to give advice or words of wisdom to Orpa and Herry. It was encouraging to see their church family stand behind them as they "launch their ship out onto the sea of matrimony," as Pop would say.

The morning of the wedding I walked in the kitchen and there was Orpa, scooping rice into the rice cooker, and a chicken was defrosting in a bowl on the counter, just like it was any other day.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaimed in disbelief.

"Oh, Ibu, my parents are going to come here to get ready and I have to cook for them," she hurriedly replied. I helped wash up some dishes, then Orpa showed me how to cut up a pineapple as we discussed some weighty matters (yes, after almost ten years in Indonesia, I still didn't know how to cut up a pineapple - I am that pathetic). We discussed the wedding, what their marriage might be like with Herry spending most of his time working at a rock quarry many miles from Tarakan, and then we got down to the facts of life. We had lots of laughs as we worked our way through that conversation.

Orpa's phone rang; her brother was on the phone. "Where are y'all?" she asked, then burst out laughing. She looked at me and explained, "My brother said they're late, because he's having to teach my parents how to wear shoes. They've only ever worn flip-flops in their village!"

Orpa's parents had never been on a boat, never really ventured far from their small village in the mountains of Sulawesi. Her mom speaks only their native dialect. So for them to travel on a ship for three days to attend their daughter's wedding was a big deal.

Orpa chose her 25th birthday as her wedding day. I told her - lucky for your husband, he only has to remember one day! I made her a cake that morning, and we laughed about how it looked like it was a 25th anniversary cake.

After the parents finally showed up and got their meal, the makeup and hair lady from the salon arrived with the dresses. Orpa's dress, the mom's dress, and my dress were all crumpled up in a plastic bag - but amazingly looked pretty good once we shook them out and hung them up. Makeup Lady ordered Orpa to lie down on the floor while she applied makeup to her. I'd never seen this technique before - but considering the amount of makeup she put on her, it was the best position to be in.

My friends Joy and Sarah arrived to start working on me. I haven't been this gussied up since - well, since my own wedding fifteen years ago, I guess. They did an awesome job, and it was really fun. I kept popping out to take peeks at Orpa, and when I first saw her all done and in her dress, I lost it. I kept thinking of her as this 18-year-old girl, who came to us looking for a job, and how she has lovingly worked for us through the years - cooking for us, rocking fussy babies, helping me navigate cultural dilemmas, hanging out countless loads of laundry - all done with her gorgeous smile.

photo by Dave Forney

Orpa and her mom

photo by Dave Forney

Orpa and her American mom. She often calls me "Mami".

photo by Dave Forney

Striking the quintessential Indonesian pose

photo by Dave Forney

After our little photo shoot with MAF teammate Dave Forney, Orpa hid herself in our guest room and waited for the groom and his entourage to come and fetch her, per Indonesian custom. Herry and his family arrived, knocked on the door, then tentatively came in and inquired after the bride. A few photos were snapped, a prayer was said, and we were off to the church.

The arrival of the groom's family

Unfortunately I don't have any photos of the actual wedding ceremony in the church. But here is something different - we all - Herry, flanked by her parents, me, and his parents, walked her down the aisle, and all the entourage, walked in behind us. It was a fairly typical wedding service - music and exchanging vows - but it was different in that the pastor gave a long sermon, the power went out a few times, and after the church service a man from the Indonesian government held his own civil service and gave them their marriage certificate on the spot.

From the church we went straight to the reception, which was held at Herry's parents' home. A huge tent had been set up, with a stage for the bridal party, and a buffet line.

The looooong line into the reception. The ladies in the picture are some of our neighbors.

photo by Dave Forney

The buffet line

photo by Dave Forney

Orpa and Herry changed clothes for the reception, as is typically done here. They then sat on the stage, along with the parents, to receive guests. Orpa wanted her dad and me to represent her side of the family. Sitting next to me was a little girl whose job was to fan Herry (another little girl was on Orpa's side) but after a while she succumbed to the heat and fell asleep and was moved, then David joined us on the stage. I felt like I shook a thousand hands, at least, and smiled so much my cheeks were sore the next day.

Orpa and Herry, on their throne

photo by Tripp Flythe

They very solemnly fed each other wedding cake...

...then they also fed the parents!

photo by Dave Forney

Two of Orpa's sisters and some of her friends performed a traditional Torajanese dance.

photo by Dave Forney

Orpa with Dorkas on the left, Abi on the right. Dorkas lives with us and is about to graduate from high school. She plans to go to nursing school in Sulawesi.

Orpa with her family. There are nine siblings all together - only five in the picture.

I'm sure we looked a little out of place (ok, maybe a lot!) but it was such an honor to be a part of the wedding.

photo by Dave Forney

Wedding Bells

2011-04-07T18:53:00.000-07:00

Wedding bells are in the air in Tarakan. This beautiful invitation was delivered yesterday.

Here's what was inside:

Isn't that the most unique wedding invitation??!! Beautiful, and practical - in the equatorial heat, you always need a good fan, especially at an event like a wedding reception. The wedding is for Meily, the daughter of our beloved office manager, Pak Simeon, who passed away in June 2009. I don't know if you can make it out on the invitation, but David is listed as one of Meily's "pihak" or supporters. We were humbled and honored by Simeon's family listing David on the invitation.

This is the first time David's been listed on a wedding invitation (other than his own, of course), and the crazy thing is the day before Meily's wedding, our beloved Orpa is getting married, and he's also listed on hers!

Ah, my Orpa is getting married, and I don't know if I'm ready for this. Orpa has lived with us for the past eight and a half years, and has been such an important part of my life. It's been such a joy to watch her develop spiritually, to grow as a young woman of great faith. She has such a joyful and giving spirit, and I have learned much from her over the years.

Orpa wearing traditional Torajanese dress

A few weeks ago she and I headed off on the motorbike to look at wedding dresses. She directed me to a little nondescript, out-of-the-way house that apparently is Wedding Central for the neighborhood. A few guys wearing shorts and smoking cigarettes sat with us, looking more like they should be discussing their next expedition on the Jolly Roger than wedding dresses, colors, and flowers. But these were the Wedding Guys and they knew their stuff.

The first dress Orpa tried on had layers of white, fluffly satin. Orpa's future mother-in-law clucked her approval, but Orpa shot me a look that said, "This isn't the one - help!"

The next dress was bone-colored and not at all to the liking of the mother-in-law, but Orpa was glowing.

"You are gorgeous!" I told her. And she was. Never the mind the cracked concrete floor she was standing on, the layer of cigarette haze hovering around her head, the rooster crowing his lungs out at the window - in that dress Orpa rose above time and place and was what little girls everywhere dream of becoming - a beautiful bride.

In about an hour, Orpa had decided on colors for the bridal party platform, outfits for the mothers (I am one of them!) and outfits for the greeters, her dress for the ceremony and her dress for the reception (typically, brides change dresses at least once), flowers, etc. She hadn't pored over any websites of Martha Stewart wedding magazines. They haggled for a while then decided on a price, and it was done. I couldn't believe it.

Hopefully my next post will have wedding pictures!

Introducing Baby Vera

2011-03-01T00:15:00.000-08:00

Just after Christmas, one of the MAF national workers and his wife welcomed their daughter into the world. Before she was born, Pak Isto told us he would like David to help with the naming of the baby. We felt very honored and started brainstorming name ideas.

There are quite a few kids running around the interior of Borneo who have been named after David, kids whose moms were in labor when he picked them up in the plane. There's even a brother and sister in one of the villages named David and Natalie. One family chose "Holsten" for their child (yes, as a first name). But this was the first time we were asked to choose the name ourselves.

I immediately thought of my late grandmother. Her name was Vera, though everyone knew her as "Beebie" and we called her Mamaw. She often joked that any of the grandkids who would name a child after her would get all the inheritance. She was a sly lady, knowing that "Vera" probably wouldn't come back into fashion for a while, at least not until most of the populace forgot the "kiss my grits" Vera from the tv show Alice.

But "Vera" with an Indonesian pronunciation is just lovely - "Ferrah" - rolling the "r". And while I'm not sure the exact meaning of Vera, to me it means a beautiful, godly, funny, hard-working woman of faith.

Baby Vera needed a middle name, so David suggested my name, since the baby was born just after Christmas (hari Natal). So Vera Natalie was thus christened.

Ibu Leni, Pak Isto, and me, holding baby Vera

Since before last Thanksgiving I have struggled on and off with stomach issues, the details of which I will spare you. It got to the point that I went to Singapore three weeks ago to be checked by a specialist there. It was hard to leave David and the kids behind, and I have to give a shout out to my wonderful MAF team in Tarakan who helped out with watching kids and having them over for meals. While in Singapore, I stayed with some Singaporean friends who took very good care of me. All my tests came back normal, and the doctor suspects I had some kind of bad infection that was slow to respond to the various meds I took. I seem to be on the mend - thank you, Lord!

And now...some news. After over nine years living in Tarakan and bucking the MAF trend of Move Again Friend, our family will be soon making a major move. In July we'll be starting a five-month furlough in the U.S., then next January we'll move to the MAF base in Sentani, Papua, way over on the other side of Indonesia. It was a hard decision to make, because we love where we are and what we do. But we felt like the time was right for our family to move. The kids will be able to attend an international school, David will fly and fix planes, and I - what will I do? Aside from learning how to function without our faithful house helper Orpa (who's getting married next month), maybe I'll find time to start that book I've always wanted to write.

Natalie

New Year's in the Krayan

2011-01-04T03:51:00.000-08:00

After a lovely Christmas in Tarakan hosting Indonesian friends, opening gifts, attending church services...

...and riding around the island visiting friends, we headed interior on a ministry trip on New Year's Eve.

As always, the scenery was gorgeous...

...the kids had a blast...

...and we ate well. Freshly-harvested short-grain Krayan rice is hands-down the best rice in the world! Still recovering from a parasite, I was unable to eat this big hunk of fat and skin, but I appreciated them giving it to me just the same. :-)

Two other MAF wives and I led a Sunday school for the kids. Some of the kids brought small tin cans of rice with them. Their teacher explained that if they don't have money to give, they bring a can of rice...

...and give it for their offering.

The people were so kind to us, accompanying us out to the plane as we left, one lady grabbing my arm as I fell into a big mud hole (it had rained a lot) and pulling me out. She then told me how she had two children, but the oldest, a daughter, got sick when she was in college, and David was the one who flew her home to her village so she could die at home with her family. She was so appreciative - even several years after the fact - that David did that for them.

Sometimes I count the cost of what we do and I think it's too high a price to pay - the distance from family, the frustrations of living in a different culture and climate, the giving up of silly things like Chik-Fil-A and shopping at Target. But every time we take a trip interior, I am reminded of why we're here - and I realize the cost isn't too high, that I am glad to pour out my life in service to the Lord here.

Usually I make some sort of resolutions at New Year's, but having failed to meet last year's very lofty ambition of learning to whistle loudly (you know, that kind of loud, ear-piercing whistle your p.e. teacher could do), I'm not feeling very motivated to make new resolutions. I'll keep working on the whistle, and I'll keep plugging away at reading the books stacked on my shelf, and I'll keep working on an idea for a novel.

Happy New Year from Tarakan!

Another Christmas in Tarakan

2010-12-20T18:51:00.000-08:00

A few friends have asked me this past week, "Ibu mau pulang kampung untuk Natal?" Are you going home for Christmas?

Nope, it's another Christmas in Borneo for the Holstens. And strangely, this year, I am perfectly okay with that.

I miss my family, of course, and the wonderful Christmas ambiance that permeates every shopping mall in America. Some days I wish I weren't sweating away like it's the Fourth of July, and I would really, really love to be part of a flash mob and belt out the alto line of "Hallelujah Chorus" with gusto.

But I have come to appreciate our Christmases in the tropics. In some ways, holidays overseas have become more meaningful because of the effort I have to put into them to make them happen. And there are some traditions unique to our location that I enjoy - like driving all over Tarakan on Christmas Day and visiting our Indonesian friends. And getting together with our MAF friends Christmas evening, eating yummy desserts, and trying to get the group to indulge me in singing "The Twelve Days of Christmas."

This has been by far our most "Christmasey" Christmas in Tarakan yet. A few weeks ago we went to a tree-lighting ceremony at one of the local hotels. A choir sang, punch was served, and I basked in the glow of Christmas tree lights (so what if it wasn't a Frasier fir?).

Zoe participated in the children's program at church, where her class sang "O Christmas Tree" and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" in Indonesian.

Our church also hosted a Christmas Carnival, which included a nasi goreng (fried rice) cooking contest, volleyball tournament, a coloring contest (Grace won first place in her division), and a visit from a clown and Sinterklas. Not exactly what we might expect from a Christmas carnival, but it was fun nonetheless. And I got to chow down on one of my favorite foods, daun singkong (cassava leaves).

Yep, Santa wears shades in the tropics

Last week we had our last English Club for the year, and we played a game where kids had to create a snowman out of toilet paper, which then turned into a crazy free-for-all "snowball fight" with the toilet paper.

Grace as an Indonesian snowman, with friends from English Club

So this week on our agenda is Christmas baking, getting ready for our open house on Thursday (I'll be serving chicken fajitas for our Indonesian friends to try), and hopefully finding some quiet moments to sit and contemplate the Word becoming flesh.

Merry Christmas from the Holstens!

Birthday Madness

2010-11-20T04:13:00.000-08:00

Our baby girl turned five this week. Our kids look forward to their birthdays and plan them months in advance. So back in August or so Zoe decided she wanted a My Little Pony birthday. My mom sent us some My Little Pony themed party gear, and then last week Zoe decided she wanted to invite all the MAF kids to her party, especially all the little boys in her preschool class. So I quickly came up with a craft (a stick hobby horse) that could reach across the gender lines. Although, most of those rough and tumble little boys have at some point played with Zoe's My Little Pony dolls at our house.

MAF kids enjoying their stick horses

I love to make and eat cakes, but unfortunately I am not very talented in making them look pretty. Alas, I lack skills in all areas of decorating, crafting, sewing, etc. But for the love of my kids I do make an effort; over the years I've made cakes in the shape of squids, pandas, snakes, and fish. So I found a pony cake online that looked easy enough and decided to give it a whirl.

I have a newfound appreciation for the cakes my mother decorated for my brothers and me over the years. She took a decorating class and her cakes looked and tasted GOOD. Whatever shape we wanted - be it Holly Hobby or R2-D2 - she could do it. But one year, maybe it was not too long after the R2-D2 cake, she gave it up, and I never really understood why.

Until the other day. Standing in my kitchen, sweating buckets (the electricity was off), trying to make four pieces of cake come together into some kind of equine shape, I was feeling ready to throw in my decorating spatula. But an hour later, the cake was done and I was feeling pretty good about it.

Then I showed it to David.

"What is it?" he asked.

He almost got a pink pony cake in the face. But Zoe loved it, and that was all that mattered.

Tomorrow my oldest son turns 13. For years - pretty much as long as I've been a mom - I have dreaded the teenage years. But now that we're almost there, I'm not feeling so intimidated. I know there will be challenges, but I'm not quaking in my boots, er, flip-flops, like I thought I'd be. Carter is already showing some signs of teenagedom - he has, of late put some effort into his appearance - at least, his hair. He wants to have hair like Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. However, his attempts to grow his hair out have not gone how he planned. He resembles not his favorite reptile wrangler, but instead that teenage wonder, Justin Bieber.

We recently were interior, a million miles from anywhere, and a group of teenage girls saw him and squealed, "Justin! Justin!" and ran over to get a picture with him. Carter was mortified. Zoe has picked up on it and informs people that Carter looks like "Justin Beaver."

Though he may not have the Crocodile Hunter's hairdo, Carter does share his passion for animals. He spends a good many hours looking after his many critters. It was a real thrill when a few weeks ago one of our neighbors called saying a huge python had been found nearby.

Carter aka Justin and friends with big mama python (photo by D. Forney)

We are looking forward to celebrating Thanksgiving next week with our MAF teammates. David and I picked up the turkeys for our feast when we were in Balikpapan a few weeks ago. For two birds - $100! David's mom told us they're selling for 59 cents a pound in Georgia. That makes me ill. We will nonetheless enjoy our Thanksgiving - one of my favorite holidays we celebrate over here, despite the heat, distance from family, and lack of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. It's a fun time together with friends.

And then it will be on to Luke's birthday and a few days off from home school.

Pop

2010-10-24T05:59:00.000-07:00

Packages. Oh, how I love them.

Normally, packages from America contain some sort of goodies from my dear mother - dark chocolate, sugarless gum for the kids, t-shirts she found on sale. Sometimes we get packages from sweet little Awana groups or Sunday school classes - gifts for the kids, grits, supplies for care packages for our medivac patients.

But this week I received something totally unexpected in a package.

A family friend in the U.S. mailed me two books that belonged to my grandfather, the Rev. John Beam, affectionately known by many as "Brother Beam" (often shortened by kids to 'Butter Bean'), and in our family as "Pop". This friend found Pop's books among her things and thought I would like to have them.

Pop's books (photo by Tripp Flythe)

What makes them especially meaningful is that when we packed up and moved to Indonesia nine years ago, we took very little with us that had sentimental value. We'd been advised not to, because in the cross-pacific trip, things are often damaged or lost, and once things arrive in country, whatever made the trip intact can be damaged by mold, critters, etc. So we took the bare essentials with us, leaving behind letters, old photographs, our nice dishes, etc..

So when I received these books, and saw again for the first time in years my grandfather's beautiful handwriting, it touched a place down in my soul that I rarely go to over here. I am a sentimental sap at heart - I tend to save every letter, photo, and scrap of paper that has any kind of memory attached to it. I remember before we left to come overseas - which coincided with my parents' move from the house of my childhood - I went through boxes and boxes of the most random assortment of junk: ticket stubs to movies from 1989, a note from a seventh-grade boyfriend (complete with the obligatory "Do you like me? Check the box" postscript), neon green cassette tapes of my brother and I singing. Most of it got tossed; the good stuff was promptly squirreled away again.

Having reformed my junk-collecting ways, I have no desire to return to the life of a packrat. Thus, piles of papers and old junk sort of freak me out now, and are quickly tossed. But these are two old books that will stay on my shelf forever, because they belonged to Pop, the all-time King of Packrats.

I have found myself missing Pop - who passed away in 1999 - a lot lately. My growing-up years were spent at his inner-city church in Savannah, Georgia. I remember riding the bus with him as he rode through the projects to pick kids up for Sunday school or weekday clubs. He was one of my heroes - a man of faith, a man who believed the best about others, a man who lived out Jesus' command to love "the least of these." He is one of the reasons I am serving in a far-flung corner of the world with my family.

I wish I could discuss ministry matters with him. How did he deal with being surrounded by needy people, knowing he probably couldn't help everyone? How did he avoid burnout? Did he struggle with doubt and discouragement?

I will take care of these books. They will stay in our air-conditioned bedroom, safe from the tropical heat and humidity. I will pull them out from time to time, maybe even read through the one that is an old commentary on Mark's gospel. And I will remember Pop, and thank the Lord for such a heritage.

Thank you, Tami, for sending them.

Indonesian Anniversary

2010-09-06T09:11:00.000-07:00

Today, September 6, marks the nine-year anniversary of our arrival in Indonesia. Nine years ago, we were stepping off the plane in Jakarta, scared to death and wondering what we'd gotten ourselves into. I'll never forget stumbling down the jetway from the airplane and encountering the sights, smells, and sounds of a new country - the faint scent of clove cigarettes, the warm blanket of humidity, the distant call to prayer from a mosque.

Those first few weeks of language school, trying to make my mouth twist around new sounds, were challenging, all the more so after the events of 9/11. Back then I never could have imagined how much I would come to love this country, which in many ways seems more like home now than the U.S.

Grace (age 17 months) and I experience culture shock in 2001

As a tribute to our nine years in this country, I'd like to share some things I love about living here - there are many, but here is a list of 10.

1. The friendly people. Indonesians are soooo friendly. Total strangers frequently strike up conversations with me, curious about where I'm from and what I'm doing here. I love that they are open and easy with a smile. It is easy to get to know people and make friends here, and I'm really thankful for that.

Amal Beach, Tarakan, 2009

2. The gift of another language. It didn't seem like a gift when I was struggling to make myself be understood in the beginning, feeling like an idiot. I still feel like an idiot much of the time, but I love, love, love being able to speak a different language. Knowing Indonesian has been crucial to developing relationships, but it's also opened up my world and (hopefully) flexed my brain in new ways. I love the simplicity of the Indonesian language, and saying lovely words like "perpustakaan" (library). Plus, when we're in the U.S. it's like knowing a secret language, since very Americans speak it.

Teaching a song, Long Alongo, 2008

3. Orpa. Orpa has lived with us for almost eight years, and I can't imagine life here without her. She is my right-hand woman and is such a huge help to me around the house and with the kids. She would kill me if she knew I posted the picture below of her, but I think it captures her personality quite well - she is so much fun and loves the kids. The whole employer-employee relationship can be a little weird at times, but she's so much more than our employee - she's family.

Orpa and Zoe, 2006

In 2008 Orpa's sister Dorkas came to live with us as well. They are both from a poor mountain community in Sulawesi, and Orpa and her family wanted Dorkas to have the chance for a better education. So Dorkas goes to high school and works part-time for me. Like her sister, she is a joy to be around.

Dorkas, Zoe, Orpa, Grace, 2009

4. Watermelon all year-round. And pineapples, mangoes, papaya, rambutan, etc. You get the idea.

5. The food! Aside from the fruit, there's nasi goreng (fried rice), srikaya (coconut jam - my latest obsession), fried cassava, chicken sate, spring rolls, soto ayam (chicken soup), and so many other yummy dishes here, including the one pictured below, gado-gado.

Gado-gado, 2008

6. Rain and the weather in general. I have always loved rain and thunderstorms and while I really, really miss the Weather Channel, I love that we get lots of rain and when it's not raining, lots of sun. I have moments of longing for a crisp fall day, but most of the time I love the fact that I get to wear flip-flops all year round. Which reminds me of another thing I love about living here - a salon right down the road where I can get a cheap pedicure.

7. The beauty. Orchids, virgin rain forest, rainbows that span the sky, bright blue kingfishers, crystal clear seas - there is much beauty to behold in Indonesia.

8. Amazing vacations. We've been able to take some pretty cool vacations in our nine years here - to Malaysia, Singapore, Bali, and some islands close to Tarakan that have great snorkeling.

Carter, Grace, and their friend Britton on a weekend snorkeling trip, 2008

9. Going interior. One of my favorite things to do here is a weekend trip to a village interior. The mountain air is so refreshing, and I love just going for walks and hanging out with the people, getting a glimpse into their lives. On our last trip interior I met the young lady pictured below, who is going to the Bible school there. She was disowned by her family for her faith and has a very inspiring story.

Sarah, Kampung Baru, 2010

10. The crazy experiences I have here, and the beautiful friends I've made.

Cuddling a sun bear, 2007

Riding down a river in the heart of Borneo, 2008

Learning to drive a motorcycle, 2009

My friend Maylan, 2010

Ibu Markus holding Zoe, 2006

Church cell group, 2007

Neighbor Kids, 2006

MAF women, Family Conference 2010

Young couples class we teach, 2010

Baju Adat

2010-08-24T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday a dream came true for me. I have for over a year been the owner of a beautiful traditional Dayak outfit, given to me by a friend from an interior village. It is gorgeous - black velvet decorated in colorful sequins - but there aren't too many opportunities for me to wear it. It's not exactly the kind of thing that you throw on to run out to the store...or even to church.

Until last week. It's missions emphasis month at our Indonesian church, so everyone was asked to wear their baju adat (traditional clothing) from their own suku (people group). Alas, being a Heinz 57 American, I am seriously lacking in the traditional clothing department. I feel very culturally poor in this regard. The German, Scotch, Irish, English, and Native American blood that flows through my veins is so diluted that I can't truly claim any of them as my suku, hence the lack of traditional dress. If I had access to a Goodwill store (or, better yet, my parents' closet) I could have put something interesting together - like a German dirndl, a Scottish tartan, and a Native American headdress.

We tossed around the idea of dressing as cowboys, since many Indonesians have that perception that Americans are all spur-wearing, lasso-toting cowhands. Luke wore a cowboy hat and vest (David did grow up on a working ranch in Colorado, so he does at least have that in his heritage) but, in a nod to our island residence, wore flip-flops in lieu of boots.

So, not having a traditional American costume, I became Lun Dayeh (one of the tribes of the people interior) for a day. Several older women in the church came up to me and said, "Oh, you need a belt" or "You need bracelets" so that by the time I went home I had a complete outfit with all the accessories.

The church service itself was a glimpse of Heaven with many suku from across the Indonesian archipelago represented - Java, Toraja, ethnic Chinese, Bali, Lombok, Sumatera. David and I looked at each other during one of the songs and we both had tears in our eyes, moved by the visual reminder that even though we are a diverse group, we are unified by our shared faith.

Natalie

Remembering Hannah

2010-08-02T02:45:00.000-07:00

When we first arrived in Tarakan in the fall of 2001, we quickly became close friends with our MAF teammates, Dave and Linda Ringenberg. Their daughter, Hannah, was Carter's age and they played together often.

A year later, Hannah had some strange symptoms, and a trip to Singapore confirmed everyone's worst fears for sweet Hannah - an inoperable brain tumor. The Ringenbergs left for the U.S. where Hannah received treatment for several months before passing away in August of 2003.

After Hannah's death, Dave and Linda began serving at MAF's headquarters. We have kept in touch over the years, and I have been so blessed and encouraged by how Dave and Linda have trusted God through the worst possible circumstances for a parent.

A month ago, after being away for eight years, Dave and Linda along with their two boys C.J. and Ryan (ages 9 and 3) came back to Tarakan so Dave could help with some of the flying for six months. It has been so fun to have them back, though there's been a bit of a weird role reversal - when we were the newbies here, they were the ones showing us around. Now, it's the other way around, with us reintroducing them to life in Tarakan. Some things haven't changed in their eight year absence (the heat, mosquitoes, etc.), but many things in Tarakan have changed for the better - wonderful things like a really nice swimming pool, higher-speed internet, and fresh butter.

So today, August 2, marks the seven-year anniversary of Hannah's passing. Yesterday the Ringenbergs asked us to help them commemorate together.

We shared memories of Hannah, the kids drew pictures for Hannah - mostly of butterflies. During Hannah's illness, the butterfly became her symbol - to this day, I think of her every time I see one.

At sunset we released balloons and reflected on how Hannah is with the Lord in Heaven, and while we feel sad and miss her, we know we'll see her again one day.

Our lives were forever touched by knowing Hannah. She taught me some very important lessons - how I need to cherish my children and take the time to really enjoy them. I also learned that they are in God's hands - no matter how much I may try to protect them from harm, what happens to them is ultimately up to the Lord. And that is okay, because He is a good, loving God.

Natalie

Women's Retreat

2010-07-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

This past weekend the gap that exists between "American Natalie" and "Cross-cultural Natalie" got narrowed a bit when I attended a women's retreat with ladies from my Indonesian church. I constantly strive to be one with the culture, and in several areas I have adapted and am more Asian than ever before - but there are still some things, some very basic things, that I cling to as an American.

Bathing, for instance. We still take hot showers here in Indonesia, though some days I opt for a cold one. Indonesians, however, for the most part take splash baths - just you, the water, and the bucket, splashing away. I have done this type of bath numerous times and while it's very refreshing after a hike in the jungle, I still prefer my American hot shower.

This past weekend though I went a step further than the splash bath and entered a new realm. Our retreat was held at a little elementary school on the beach, and there was no bathroom, other than just a toilet. So those who wanted to bathe had to do so out in the open, wearing a sarong.

I have long been in awe of women who can bathe wearing a sarong and somehow go from being completely clothed under the sarong, to being undressed, showered, and dressed again - and not show any flesh doing so. It's truly amazing. A few ladies took me under their wing and gave me some pointers with the sarong bath and I think I was successful - I got clean and flashed them only once.

Another aspect of life I cling to as an American is how I sleep. A soft mattress, a fluffy pillow, a cool, dark room makes for perfect sleep. But having slept on floors many a time on our trips interior, and being one who loves to camp, I was up for whatever on this retreat. We ended up sleeping in one of the classrooms; some were on the floor, like the ladies in the above pictures, and some - like me - on tables. Okay, sleeping on a table - no problem. But then there was the issue of the light. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Um, are we going to turn off the light so it will be dark?

The other ladies: But if we turn off the light it will be too dark, like a cave. Ibu Natalie, if you want it to be dark, just close your eyes!

So the light stayed on all night. Long about 1 a.m., when we finally went to sleep, I was so tired they could have shone a flashlight in my eyes and it wouldn't have mattered. It was entertaining to lay there and listen to these ladies - some of them grannies in their seventies - tease each other and giggle as we were settling down for the night, like a bunch of middle-school girls at a slumber party.

I was up by 5:30 (!) for our morning service, followed by games and exercise. I was amazed to see the aforementioned grannies playing soccer, at six in the morning. We played partner soccer, where you had to hold your partner's hand while playing. After being drug up and down the soccer field by a very athletic woman and making pathetic attempts at kicking the ball, I was glad the next game was something I could actually do. One team had to keep a balloon up in the air, while the opposing team tried to knock the balloon to the ground. Effortlessly I - who at 5'6" is considered a tall woman - could rise above the crowd like Michale Jordan to bat the balloon around.

Swimming in the ocean, eating fresh coconut, singing together, and playing bingo into the wee hours of the night were all highlights of the retreat. But the best part for me - aside from learning to bathe in a sarong - was getting to know the ladies from church a little better. Even though we've been attending this particular church for about two years, I had yet to form any deep relationships with anyone. But there's nothing like an overnight trip to help you bond with people. I especially enjoyed getting to know the woman in the picture below, Ibu Elisabeth, whom everyone affectionately calls "Oma".

I really miss having older women in my life to look up to and to emulate. I see Oma at church every week and this woman ALWAYS SMILES. And you can just tell by looking at her, that her smiles well up from real joy in her life. I told my friend Novita, who also went on the retreat, "I want to be Oma when I grow up!" I am so thankful the Lord allowed me the opportunity to get to know her - and hopefully she can help fill the need I have felt for a mentor.

And lastly, one of the most amazing things about this retreat, and something that really impresses me about the women who attended was that NO ONE COMPLAINED. About anything! I mean, we all swatted mosquitoes and had a few disparaging remarks about that, but overall everyone was just happy to be there. This is another aspect of American Natalie I would like to shed forever - my tendency to complain when my personal comfort is threatened.

Bali

2010-06-11T01:44:00.000-07:00

I love vacation. I know, who doesn't, right? But I really, really, REALLY love vacation. I dream about it. I plan for it months in advance. I rip articles out of magazines and save them in file folders as fodder for future vacation fantasizing. I know I spend way too much time thinking about and pining for vacation. Part of it is my over-active imagination, and part of it is a by-product of living on a little spit of an island that seriously lacks in the diversions department. I know that to hear we live on an island in the tropics conjures up all sorts of images of white-sand beaches, crystal clear water and pina colodas, but to quote a former MAF teammate, "Tropical island it is; paradise it ain't."

We live in a small typical Asian town - noisy, hot, dusty - and for most of the year we don't travel outside of a 5-kilometer radius around our house. Every other week we make the long (10 kilometer!) drive out to the beach, or pool, and that's it. No road trips, no trips to the next town over for dinner, nothing. David gets to fly to the jungle interior a few times a week, but for me and the kids, most of the time our world is quite small.

All that to say, I was really looking forward to our trip to Bali. I once visited Bali years ago when I was about 8 months pregnant with Luke to attend a women's conference, but we'd never been with the whole family. And to make it even more wonderful, my parents flew to Tarakan and spent two weeks here with us before we all traveled together to Bali. I got my love of traveling from my dad, who is a master at it and makes any trip fun.

One of the best things we did in Bali was to rent a car and ride around, getting lost in the lush countryside. We saw rice fields and volcanoes, and I ate about a kilo of one of my all-time favorite fruits, the mangostein. We hiked to some Buddhist stone carvings that pre-date Hinduism. The place had an ancient, other-worldly feel to it.

We enjoyed a day at the water park, and a trip to the Bali Bird and Reptile Park, where we got to hold some different birds.

When my parents were in Tarakan, Dad got to fly along with David and had lunch at a village interior, where he was fed monitor lizard. At the reptile park in Bali he got to see what he it was he ate:

The hotel grounds where we stayed were just lovely, and I enjoyed seeing several of one of my favorite types of trees, the sea fan. I would love to have one of these growing in my backyard.

So all in all, Bali lived up to my vacation expectations - lots of playing, relaxing, and eating. Dad left from Bali to go back to Georgia, but Mom came back to Tarakan with us and will be here another week. It's so nice having her around.

Sampai nanti,

Natalie

Mother's Day

2010-05-09T19:54:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up to my sweet children bringing my breakfast in bed. My first thought was, "oh, just let me sleep!" but then my second thought was "Wow! They made breakfast and I didn't hear anything breaking!" They are thoughtful kids, and I am thankful for them and thankful to be their mom.

So this is another Mother's Day that I am far from my own mother, and unfortunately she won't be with either of my brothers, either. I hope she knows how much she is loved and appreciated. I didn't fully appreciate her until I had children of my own and I realized what an unglamorous, sacrificial job it is to be a mother.

My parents say that I was a sweet baby, but even sweet babies have their crazy intense moments and I am thankful my mom put up with me and my brothers, and cared for us so well. She taught me so many things, like compassion for others and how to make cornbread dressing, and tried to teach me other things that I wish I'd paid more attention to (like sewing!).

The above picture is a bit old (look how little Lukey is!) but all my recent pictures are on the desktop computer, which sadly crashed yesterday. Anyway...my mom has such a caring heart and loves us - her children and grandchildren - and demonstrates that love despite the thousands of miles between us. She is wonderful about remembering our birthdays and sending a "party in a box" for the kids. She hates to fly, but she has conquered that fear and several times has made the long journey over to see us. Next week she and my dad will be visiting, and we are so excited!

I love this picture, Mom being silly with her grandkids, and acting out a fantasy I know she's long had - to be a weather forecaster. She loves weather - windchill factors, doppler 5 radar warnings, heat indexes, etc. Just one of the quirky things about her that makes her my mom, and I love her for it!

This is the other mom in my life - my wonderful mother-in-law. I'll never forget the first time I met Faye. It was my senior year of high school and a group of my friends and I were kind of tired of being goody-two-shoes and we wanted to rebel a bit so we skipped school one afternoon. Weren't we bad? We thought so, anyway. David was among this group, so after we fled the school grounds he suggested we go to his house.

There was his mom, welcoming us in, offering us ice cream. I remember thinking, "This lady must be pretty cool, to welcome in her son and his friends who are skipping school, and feed us!" And over the years I came to learn that she is indeed a very cool lady, and a very godly woman who did an awesome job raising three sons and two daughters. I hear horror stories about overbearing mothers-in-law and I am soooo thankful I don't have one! Quite the contrary, she is so supportive and encouraging. I love her!

Happy Mother's Day!

Natalie

2010-05-05T05:16:00.000-07:00

The past few weeks have been about as crazy as this picture of Zoe in a bucket! This time of year always seems to bring a flurry of visitors and activity. Not that I'm complaining. Life on an island can be a bit dull at times (no, really!) so a change of pace is welcome.

My Aunt Mary and Uncle Harvey paid us a visit around Easter. It was their first trip to Indonesia, and we tried to pack as much into their week here as we could. They celebrated Easter with us at church and at a brunch with our MAF teammates, Uncle Harvey rode along with David on a medivac flight, we visited all the local tourist spots (all four of them!) and took a two-night trip interior.

In the picture above, Mary and Harvey try out fried chicken feet. They were very adventurous and we had many laughs, especially over Mary's introduction to the Indonesian squatty potty.

I was also proud of how Aunt Mary braved the rickety bamboo bridges we frequently crossed on our hike interior. Looks easier than it is!

Carter is always catching critters - he caught this skink at our friend's hut near their rice field interior.

On our hike, our friend Pak Ajang took us to a place where in the old days of Dayak headhunting, they used to store the heads. There was only a depression in the earth, and the heads are long gone (to Luke's disappointment).

In the photo above, Pak Ajang is demonstrating how his ancestors in years past would prove their bravery by leaping off this stone over a spear that was stuck in the ground. If they cleared the spear, they could call themselves brave. If not...well, I guess they called themselves severely injured, at best!

There was a tense moment when a kerbau (water buffalo) got between us and the trail. They are docile creatures, but none of us wanted to get any closer to those horns than necessary.

Zoe, however, didn't mind getting up close and personal with this kerbau, under Pak Ajang's watchful eye.

Here we are after a trip to the Tarakan beach. It's always fun to see Tarakan again through a newcomer's eyes, and experience the culture anew.

A few days after Mary and Harvey left, we had a party for Grace's 10th birthday, a few days early. Then we were off to family conference in Balikpapan.

Conference is always a highlight of the year. A group of ladies from MAF headquarters came out to do the VBS and they all had a wild and fun time. Kevin and Linda Swanson, whom we know from our Tennessee days when they worked at a counseling center and later when Kevin served as MAF CEO, came to be our speakers. They did a fantastic job speaking on the topic of joy.

Here's our MAF Kalimantan team. I love these people!!!

Grace's actual birthday happened when we were at conference in the big city of Balikpapan. So we were able to celebrate by going out to Pizza Hut and have J.Co doughnuts - which are just as good, in my opinion, as Krispy Kreme doughnuts. A very special birthday, indeed!

I can't believe Grace is 10 already. Seems like she was just this size the other day. This is Grace with my grandmother, Mamaw. On April 24th it was two years since she passed away. We miss her so much!

The day after conference David headed off to the U.S. to be trained to fly and instruct in our new Kodiak aircraft. I'm glad he has the opportunity to go but we sure do miss him! Just about 10 days to go and he's home.

Natalie

2010-03-11T01:55:00.000-08:00

Every other Tuesday a few friends and I teach an English class to a group of Indonesian kids. This class started out as more of a preschool storytime, but as word got out that we were teaching English, more and more elementary-aged kids started coming. We now have a group of about 25 regulars who come for singing, games, and crafts. It's been fun to get to know some of the kids in our neighborhood, as well as their moms who come and sit in the back and learn the Hokey Pokey and other silly English songs with their kids.

A few months ago, when an influx of older kids started attending, I was a little surprised when they all started taking my hand when we were saying goodbye, and touching it to their foreheads. I have seen Indonesian kids show this sign of respect to their parents when being dropped off at school - and I've even jokingly tried to get Carter and Grace to do it when I drop them at school - but I was unprepared for our English class kids to start doing it to me.

Tegar bids me farewell

Now, here is something I just noticed after looking at this picture closely. It appears that on Tegar's shirt is a skateboard with an attitude, giving us the middle finger. It's a bit ironic, isn't it, that Tegar is being so polite (and he is one of our nicest students) while wearing this crazy t-shirt that he probably doesn't even realize could be offensive.

We are very glad to have our friends the Forneys back from their furlough. Carter and their son Britton are big buds, and they relished the opportunity to dissect a cow bone recently.

Science was never something I was enthusiastic about doing when I was home schooling the kids, so I'm very, very thankful to have our teacher Lynne. She has been a wonderful teacher for our kids, and we're really going to miss her when she heads home at the end of May.

A few weeks ago Grace and Zoe went to their first dance class. I never would have imagined they would have the opportunity to take ballet on our little far-flung island. An Indonesian friend arranged the class with a local aerobics instructor, and while it isn't the kind of ballet class I grew up with, the girls don't know any better and really seem to enjoy it. Zoe mostly goofs off, as you can see in the picture below.

We are off to the island of Derawan this weekend for a snorkeling trip. It's a three-hour boat ride away, and I am looking forward to laying on the beach with my book (Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer - it will be hard to imagine the ice and thin air of Mount Everest while relaxing in a tropical paradise - but I'll do my best).

Sampai nanti,

Natalie

2010-02-23T05:15:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite things to do here, as I've probably said before, is to take trips interior. It's such a different world interior than where we live in Tarakan, and it's always a welcome break from life on the island. Two weekends ago we went to the village of Kampung Baru, located in the Krayan area of East Kalimantan. David was invited by the head of the Bible school there to speak for their opening services for the start of the new semester.

From the airstrip in the village of Long Bawan it was a 15-minute ride by motorcycle to Kampung Baru. I felt rather conspicuous, riding through the village, part of this long motorcycle caravan, all of us clutching bags and backpacks, trying to hold on to the bike without actually having to wrap my arms around the guy driving it. Afterward I felt like I'd been for a ride on a bucking bronco.

The Bible school is named for John Willfinger, an American missionary who was killed in the Krayan during World War II. You can read more about him here. The school, which has about 50 students and a dozen or so instructors, teaches Bible and theology with an emphasis on evangelism. The campus consists of a few clapboard buildings such as the one pictured above, set in a beautiful mountain valley. The Bible school is low on funds right now, and the instructors (pictured in the top picture by the plane) have not received any salary for several months now. In spite of that, they are a joyful group of people serving God in a remote place, and we really enjoyed spending time with them.

The evening service started about at about 9 and went for about two hours. Different groups sang, and then David spoke. After the service we got the kids down for the night then joined another service, which was just for the Bible school teachers and their wives. It went very late, but was a good time of fellowship. I wasn't sure how my stomach would react to rice and boiled pig at 1 a.m. but it was actually pretty good.

I wish I had a picture to post of the night sky in Kampung Baru. There were so many stars that we had a hard time picking out constellations. It was just gorgeous and the kids said it was a highlight of their weekend. Seeing the familiar outlines of Orion, Plaides, and the Dippers always makes me feel not so far away from home.

Luke, who has like .02 % body fat, had a hard time staying warm and huddled by the fire a good bit. He also had fun playing with one of the village kids' toys.

Who needs Toys R Us?

At the Sunday service David spoke, and afterward had a chance to speak with the man standing in the middle in this picture (that's Tim Maynard, our mechanic, on the right). This man, whose name I forget, was born and raised in the Long Bawan area, and he has the distinction of being the very first medivac patient that MAF ever carried out from that area. He was a young boy when he contracted typhoid and had to be flown out to a hospital in Tarakan for treatment. He is now a police chaplain and has a ministry to inmates as well. Our guys do several medivac flights a week, and it's cool to think how this aspect of MAF's ministry is having an eternal impact on lives.

I was able to spend some time chatting with some of the instructors' wives. Veronica, pictured above, is expecting her second child. She had such a sweet spirit about her. There was another wife who was expecting as well, and the week after our trip we got word that she had delivered her baby, and decided to name it Holsten! I'm not sure if it's a boy or girl, but with a name like Holsten, I'm hoping it's a boy. :-)

We totally switched gears last weekend when we celebrated Chinese New Year with our Chinese friends. A highlight was watching the barong sai or lion dance. Tarakan has a championship barong sai group and it's always fun to watch them perform. Luke got a little freaked out so while we watched he waited in the car. The guys in the costume are so good at what they do they make the lion seem like a real animal.

Another exciting day for us recently was seeing this huge python at the hanger. The man on the right, Pak Nelson, caught it in a nearby garden and brought it to the hanger for everyone to see. We were kind of bummed to hear that it would be consumed the next day. David tried some of the meat and said it was sort of chewy. Our budding herpetologist Carter finally got a replacement snake for the one that escaped - a lovely little python that he has named Sophie - that just doesn't seem to fit a snake, does it?

Sampai jumpa,

Natalie

Fly Along

2010-01-26T18:28:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to fly along with David in the MAF Caravan. This was the first time I have flown in the Caravan, and what a different experience it was from flying in a 206. It was like trading out a Go-Kart for an SUV. The Caravan was smooth and had all sorts of cool instruments on its dash board (or whatever the pilots call it!).

It was a stormy day when we headed out, but armed with weather radar we were able to dodge the dangerous areas. David was actually a bit gleeful to have some weather to work so he could make use of the radar and the IFR guidelines the guys use for flying through the mountainous areas of Borneo.

We did eight take-offs and landings in four different villages. I enjoyed watching David interact with passengers and airstrip agents. This older couple below were so cute in their funky t-shirts and solemn expressions.

The man below was quite a character. He had a hat on that said "Indonesian veteran" on it and told us he fought in the border wars with Malaysia (back in the 40s or 50s maybe?). He was at the airport to say goodbye to his younger brother, who was going back to his village to die since the local hospital couldn't do anything to help him.

It was touching to watch the two brothers saying goodbye, knowing that this could very well be the last time they see each other in this life. Then later when we landed at the sick man's village, it was heart-rending to see the somber crowd gathered to welcome him home.

Contrasting that scene was this man on the other side of the plane who was downright giddy receiving one of our "passengers" - a pig in a poke!

The weather continued to be an issue through the afternoon but we were able to make it to all our scheduled stops. Rice harvest had started in several of the villages and from the air we could see men and women wearing conical hats beating out rice stalks on woven mats in the rice paddies. One of our passengers was a pastor who was returning to his village after helping his wife start the harvest in the village where they used to live. He was leaving her behind to finish the harvest, and David and I had to laugh about that because this pastor is a very small thin man (think Jack Sprat) and his wife is a beefy lady who could easily beat him in a wrestling smackdown. She was definitely the better choice for finishing out a physically-demanding rice harvest.

At the end of the day I couldn't believe how tired I was - and all I did was sit in the co-pilot's seat and look out the window. Every time I fly with David I have a renewed appreciation for what he does and why he's so tired at the end of a flying day.

Another happy MAF passenger

Sampai nanti,

Natalie

To Market, To Market

2010-01-06T02:23:00.000-08:00

My house helper, Orpa, has been gone for the last month visiting her family in Sulawesi for Christmas. I'm really glad for her, but while she's gone all the jobs she normally does fall to me. One of those is making weekly trips to the pasar, or open market. I have been to the pasar on numerous occasions and it is a job that I am very happy for Orpa to do. It's a smelly, damp place, with all manner of creepy crawly things creepin' and crawlin' over the food you buy. I have come up with a list of a few tips for those of you who may find yourselves heading out to the open market soon.

Pasar Primer

1. Go in the morning. The smells are much worse as the day goes on, so be sure to go first thing in the morning. The produce tends to be fresher, too.

Now, in addition to going to the pasar this past month, I've also been learning to drive David's motorbike. He used to own a big dirt bike and it was just too big for me to handle. So he downsized and bought a smaller bike that is easier for me to drive (it's so small that one of our co-workers said David looks like a Shriner in a parade). I've always been hesitant to drive a motorbike here - the traffic can get kind of crazy and I've seen lots of accidents. I always seem to have at least one child with me when I go out, and when I shop I tend to buy a lot, and you can only hang so many bags on a bike. But the main reason I haven't learned yet is that I'm a chicken, but I am working to overcome my fears. It's kind of like being a teenager again and earning my learner's license. David has put restrictions on me, like I can only go to certain places and only at certain times. All of that to say, another reason for me to do my marketing in the morning is that the traffic is light and it gives me a chance to practice the motorbike.

Early in the morning lots of vegetable sellers load up their motorbikes and head out to sell in the neighborhoods.

2. Never look down. If you know me, you might know that I have an irrational fear of cockroaches. It was one of the things I really worried about when we first came overseas. Silly, I know, but there it is. The pasar is crawling with cockroaches, mice, rats, etc. so to keep myself from screaming I find it best not to look down, if it can be helped. There was one time I had a panicky moment when I dropped some money and I was faced with the dilemma of bending down and picking it up and risking seeing something I'd rather not, or just leaving the money there. I realized how silly that would look to the Indonesians around me so I held my breath and picked it up, with one eye closed.

3. Never buy a doughnut at the pasar. I think the photo below best illustrates this. Raw chickens are on the left, doughnuts (uncovered, unpackaged) on the right, and you can't see the flies but they were doing circuits between the two tables. Need I say more?

4. Take the time to get to know the penjual (sellers) you buy from. As much as I would like to rush through, grab what I need and go, I try to spend a few minutes chatting with each person. They are more likely to look out for you on your next trip. The little lady below sells all kinds of greens and one day she didn't have the type I was looking for. On my next trip she practically grabbed me off my feet to show me she'd been holding some for me.

5. Wash it, peel it, or cook it. The hardest part of going to the pasar for me is dealing with all the stuff I buy once I get home. In the U.S. I would just toss whatever I buy into the fridge - but here there is no pre-washed lettuce, or wok-ready vegetables, so everything has to be cleaned and put away. But once that is done there is a great feeling of satisfaction at having survived another trip to the pasar.

On to other things...last night was Twelfth Night here in Tarakan. I am always on the lookout for fun things for us to do and new traditions to keep (and reasons to make a cake) and after reading some about Twelfth Night I decided to try it out on our family. First I made a King Cake which I am sure is unlike any other king cake since I followed no traditional recipe (apologies to my Cajun cousins who know what a real king cake is). Zoe helped me hide a coin in it, since the tradition is that whomever finds the coin (or bean, or whatever) is then the king or queen for the night. The coin was in my piece of cake, though Luke was so crestfallen by not finding it, I snuck it into his piece. So Luke spent the evening giving out royal decrees that we his loyal subjects had to obey. We also sang "The Twelve Days of Christmas" at the top of our lungs, ensuring the neighbors would have plenty to talk about. I don't know if it will become a yearly Holsten tradition or not, but it was a lot of fun.

Sampai jumpa,

Natalie

Birthdays and Harvest Time

2009-12-01T21:05:00.000-08:00

November is a big month for our family, with three of our kids celebrating birthdays. Our baby girl Zoe turned four and we had a party with the other MAF kids and some Indonesian friends. Next was Carter, who turned 12 and instead of a party wanted to go on a pig hunt with one of the Indonesian men who works at the hangar. Pak Nelson took Carter and David into some jungle on our little island of Tarakan, and they said the best part was watching Nelson track the pigs. They didn't get anything but had fun hiking. That evening Nelson went back out hunting and was successful and brought us a pig leg.

The 12-year-old

And then Luke turned six and wanted a jungle-themed party, which is a wonderfully easy thing to do when you live near the jungle.

The back of our yard looked like a jungle when we piled up branches and banana leaves that David had recently cut.

And no jungle party would be complete without kids popping balloons using a blowgun, the traditional hunting weapon of Borneo.

Luke's Snake Cake

Besides celebrating birthdays, we've been enjoying a time of harvest. While the words "harvest time" used to conjure up for me images of fat pumpkins, acorn squash, and sheaves of wheat, here I have come to connect harvest with fruit. Our friends interior have been sending out lots of rambutan, longsat, pisang, and ketimun, shown below.

But the best part of this year's harvest has been our mangoes. We have four mango trees in our yard that sometimes produce fruit. This year we had a bumper crop, thanks to the hard work of our house helper Orpa. She put plastic bags over all the growing mangoes to protect them from fruit bats that like to fly in at night and feast.

Orpa and her sister leave in a few days to head home to Sulawesi for a month. I am going to miss her so much - and not just because of how much work she does for us. She is a close friend, and a lot of fun to have around.

And while I'm on the food theme, here are a few pictures of Luke with his friend Christopher. Christopher's mom came over one day to teach me to make shrimp wonton soup. Rather than throwing away the shrimp heads, like I would have done, she fried them up into a crispy snack. They were actually quite good - as most fried things are - and as long as I didn't look at their beady eyes staring at me, I could eat them.

The Shrimp Heads Go....

....Crruuunch!

And lastly on the food theme, we had a wonderful Thanksgiving with our MAF teammates. We even had a turkey and cranberry sauce and all the other fixins. We've decorated for Christmas and we look forward to celebrating Jesus' birth with our Indonesian brothers and sisters.

A Trip Interior

2009-11-03T23:27:00.000-08:00

November 4, 2009

Our family spent this past weekend in the village of Long Taan in the Krayan region of East Kalimantan. Trips interior are always a blast for our family, and this one was no exception. We took our house helper Orpa with us. She is from the island of Sulawesi, from a mountainous village, so it was interesting to hear her observations on how it was different or similar to her home. We stayed with one of David's friends, Pak Ajang, who frequently flies on the MAF plane.

David, Zoe, and Luke with Pak Ajang

It rained a good bit of the time while we were there, and the river was too high to go swimming like we'd hoped. We asked Pak Ajang what they do when it rains. "We sleep." Oh, that was music to our ears! Of course the kids weren't too interested in sleeping in the middle of the day, but I snuggled down with my book (Frank Peretti's Monster, a very appropriate read for the jungle) for a few hours.

The rain, plus being at a higher elevation, made it deliciously cold for us. It was in the 60s - which felt really, really nice. The last time we experienced autumn was in 2000, so it was wonderful to be somewhere in October and it felt like October should!

Pak Ajang took us on a hike to his sawah (rice field), which was about a 45-minute walk from the village. It was a gorgeous hike, through jungle and along the river, everything green and glistening in the rain. Zoe managed to find every puddle along the way and was quickly covered in muck. We all were pretty mucky by the time we reached the sawah, except for Ajang and his wife - who amazingly looked barely wet at all.

We hung out for a while in their pondok (small hut on stilts) and had a meal of noodles, eggs, some kind of fruit I forget the name of, and some durian. Durian is that enigmatic fruit of southeast Asia that so many people love - and I have yet to figure out why. It smells like something rotten, and tastes even worse - yet people here love it. I politely slammed down a few bites - which is better than the last time I tried it (gagged and spit). Despite the durian, we had a pleasant time in the pondok.

Carter went off with Pak Ajang and his son to explore, hoping to find a snake to replace the one that escaped a few weeks ago. They didn't see any snakes but had fun looking.

Any time I go interior and observe how the women live there, I come away feeling like a wimp, like Napoleon Dynamite saying "I don't have any skills." These ladies are amazing - they carry their own firewood, cook over a wood fire, work in the rice fields, haul incredibly heavy loads, butcher animals, weave baskets and mats. They rock!

Note in the picture above, the lady in the back with the jean jacket. She is Pak Ajang's wife, and she carried in our food and water in a woven basket. I carried an umbrella. :-)

On Sunday Orpa and I led Sunday school for the village children, and David preached at the church service. We were blessed by the different groups who sang, particularly the older people. After church and another meal, we loaded up the plane and headed home.

Some village kids gather around for a look at Carter's Snakes of Borneo book.

Orpa cuddles a very tired Zoe on the way home.

Sampai Jumpa (until later),

Natalie