Dear Friend,
Last night I went to a friends house to hang out. She had asked me on Monday if I wanted to hang out and told me to think about what we should eat. All I could think of was, "I want to have an ice cream float." You know, with ice cream and coke (since it would probably be hard to find root beer here). So Friday comes around and I run to the convenient store to buy ice cream and coke. Now I had been thinking about these floats the whole week and was very excited. It's no fun to make an ice cream float for yourself, you have to have other people there.
I arrived at her house, got some glasses, and dished out the ice cream. The vanilla ice cream looked more yellow than white, but I figured it was just a different brand of ice cream. I slowly poured in the coke, watching the big bubbles form. It looked delicious! I grabbed my spoon and tried some of the bubbles... it tasted a little weird, not like a normal coke float. Perhaps the vanilla ice cream is just different than in America. I started to put the ice cream into the fridge while licking the ice cream scoop. That's when I realized it. The ice cream was not vanilla ice cream. It was DURIAN ice cream! Durian is this fruit that smells quite strong, some people might even say it smells like feet. I like durian, I can eat it, BUT NOT IN MY FLOAT! It totally changed the taste of the float. Sad day! So much for my much anticipated ice cream float!
It was a funny experience though. Now every time I buy ice cream I will make sure it says Vanilla and Chocolate and not Durian and Chocolate.
Perhaps we will just have to have the real ice cream floats when I see you next.
Your friend,
Rebekah E.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
From Ogre to Barbie
Dear Friend,
It's been quite a while since I last wrote. Life here has been good here I'm having fun and staying busy.
Keep praying for Japan, okay? Everyday I am checking the news and facebook feed to see the updates. It is unimaginable the amount of damage there is. I see the pictures and ask myself, "Is this really Japan?" But I know God's hand is in all of this and am excited to see how He uses this disaster to bring glory to his name.
So I have a few stories for you, hope you enjoy.
Well about a month or so ago I was at a bazzar raising money for an organization that helps street children. There were so many adorable little kids and babies there. The whole time I just wanted to hold them, make them laugh and twirl with them. I saw one adorable two year old boy with big ears try to put a backpack on; however, he had it upside down and it was all twisted up, so naturally I went over to help. I tried to hold out the backpack strap so he could put his arm through it. Instead of putting his arm in the straps, he looked at me as if I was an ogre, let go of the backpack, backed up slowly and then ran away. Ooppps! I felt so bad. At that moment I wished I wasn't a bulé! If I was Indonesian the kids wouldn't be scared of me and I would be able to play and laugh with them. It is not a fun feeling to think that kids are scared of you (or that you look like an ogre).
Well, a week later I went to a party and the birthday girl's four year old niece was there. I was sitting next to the birthday girl and her niece was standing in front of her. She did this adorable stretching motion, looking away from me, and her hand just happened to touch my arm and stay there for a while. It was so cute how curious she was to see if my skin felt the same even though it didn't look the same. Okay, so not every kid is scared of me, of course, her auntie knew me, so it was easier for her, right? So maybe I'm not an ogre.
That Sunday I was riding the bus from my church in Jakarta back to Cikarang. There was a 7-year old girl on the bus sitting in the front, while I was sitting more towards the back. She would often turn around to look at me; then we would make eye contact and smile. She started to stand up and play in the isle of the bus, nonchalantly making her way closer to where I was sitting. I watched as she sat 4 rows in front of me. Ten seconds later she would move back one row, 5 seconds later she would move back again. Now she was only two rows in front of me. Then she stood up and walked back to her seat in the front. Two minutes later she was back, trying again. Eventually she made it back to my row. Not knowing what to do, she just stood there and looked at me, so I held out my hand to say hello. She shook my hand and then went back to her seat in the front. A few minutes later she came back and sat in the row behind mine. She was fiddling with something, but I couldn't tell what it was. A little while later I noticed a candy sitting beside me. She had pushed the little candy between the seats to give me. I took the candy, held it up and asked her with my eyes and hands, "for me?" She nodded and I said, "Terima kasih" (Thank you) to which she replied "Sama sama" (You're welcome). She then moved forward a row to sit on the same row as me. After two minutes she went back to the front where her dad was.
Wow, maybe I'm not so scary after all if a child stranger is friendly enough to give me a chocolate mint candy. That made me feel better.
Just last week, I was on the same bus coming home. Unfortunately it was later in the day and the bus was packed. I sat in the backity-back because there were only about 3 seats left. On the next stop a lady holding a one and a half year old got on the bus and sat right next to me. The little baby boy stared at me with curiosity. He started to quietly sing a song, he clapped his hands and then reached his hand out and 'just happened' to touch my arm. He kept his hand there for a little, then moved it away. He did this a few more times, just to make sure my skin was still the same. SO CUTE! That settled it, I am not a scary person! What a relief!
I kind of feel like a doll because people are touching my arm to see if I am real or fake. Once, I had a teacher friend tell me, "When I was little I would play with barbies and think, people don't really have hair like this, but I was wrong, you hair is just like a barbies hair!" I don't quite agree with her, and don't really want to be equated with a barbie since in my mind a barbie is a blond headed unproportional bimbo, but it is kind of funny.
Anyways, those are my stories for you: from ogre to barbie.
Your friend till Niagra Falls,
Rebekah
It's been quite a while since I last wrote. Life here has been good here I'm having fun and staying busy.
Keep praying for Japan, okay? Everyday I am checking the news and facebook feed to see the updates. It is unimaginable the amount of damage there is. I see the pictures and ask myself, "Is this really Japan?" But I know God's hand is in all of this and am excited to see how He uses this disaster to bring glory to his name.
So I have a few stories for you, hope you enjoy.
Well about a month or so ago I was at a bazzar raising money for an organization that helps street children. There were so many adorable little kids and babies there. The whole time I just wanted to hold them, make them laugh and twirl with them. I saw one adorable two year old boy with big ears try to put a backpack on; however, he had it upside down and it was all twisted up, so naturally I went over to help. I tried to hold out the backpack strap so he could put his arm through it. Instead of putting his arm in the straps, he looked at me as if I was an ogre, let go of the backpack, backed up slowly and then ran away. Ooppps! I felt so bad. At that moment I wished I wasn't a bulé! If I was Indonesian the kids wouldn't be scared of me and I would be able to play and laugh with them. It is not a fun feeling to think that kids are scared of you (or that you look like an ogre).
Well, a week later I went to a party and the birthday girl's four year old niece was there. I was sitting next to the birthday girl and her niece was standing in front of her. She did this adorable stretching motion, looking away from me, and her hand just happened to touch my arm and stay there for a while. It was so cute how curious she was to see if my skin felt the same even though it didn't look the same. Okay, so not every kid is scared of me, of course, her auntie knew me, so it was easier for her, right? So maybe I'm not an ogre.
That Sunday I was riding the bus from my church in Jakarta back to Cikarang. There was a 7-year old girl on the bus sitting in the front, while I was sitting more towards the back. She would often turn around to look at me; then we would make eye contact and smile. She started to stand up and play in the isle of the bus, nonchalantly making her way closer to where I was sitting. I watched as she sat 4 rows in front of me. Ten seconds later she would move back one row, 5 seconds later she would move back again. Now she was only two rows in front of me. Then she stood up and walked back to her seat in the front. Two minutes later she was back, trying again. Eventually she made it back to my row. Not knowing what to do, she just stood there and looked at me, so I held out my hand to say hello. She shook my hand and then went back to her seat in the front. A few minutes later she came back and sat in the row behind mine. She was fiddling with something, but I couldn't tell what it was. A little while later I noticed a candy sitting beside me. She had pushed the little candy between the seats to give me. I took the candy, held it up and asked her with my eyes and hands, "for me?" She nodded and I said, "Terima kasih" (Thank you) to which she replied "Sama sama" (You're welcome). She then moved forward a row to sit on the same row as me. After two minutes she went back to the front where her dad was.
Wow, maybe I'm not so scary after all if a child stranger is friendly enough to give me a chocolate mint candy. That made me feel better.
Just last week, I was on the same bus coming home. Unfortunately it was later in the day and the bus was packed. I sat in the backity-back because there were only about 3 seats left. On the next stop a lady holding a one and a half year old got on the bus and sat right next to me. The little baby boy stared at me with curiosity. He started to quietly sing a song, he clapped his hands and then reached his hand out and 'just happened' to touch my arm. He kept his hand there for a little, then moved it away. He did this a few more times, just to make sure my skin was still the same. SO CUTE! That settled it, I am not a scary person! What a relief!
I kind of feel like a doll because people are touching my arm to see if I am real or fake. Once, I had a teacher friend tell me, "When I was little I would play with barbies and think, people don't really have hair like this, but I was wrong, you hair is just like a barbies hair!" I don't quite agree with her, and don't really want to be equated with a barbie since in my mind a barbie is a blond headed unproportional bimbo, but it is kind of funny.
Anyways, those are my stories for you: from ogre to barbie.
Your friend till Niagra Falls,
Rebekah
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Summer Days in January
Dear Friend,
Today I was walking to school to get some extra grading done over the weekend. It was mid-day and the sun was shining bright. I stepped outside in my T-shirt, capri pants and flip flops. I looked up with my eyes closed to feel the sun on my face. I smelled the freshly cut fields and heard the birds gaily chirping. To be honest I almost felt like I was in Switzerland. I couldn't help smiling and praising God for such a beautiful summer day. Then it hit me, it isn't summer, it is the middle of JANUARY! I laughed to myself at the fact. I can't believe I am in Indonesia and get to experience summer weather all year round. I love being hit with the facts of my life and having a new amazement of God who brought me to this country where I get to experience so many wonderful things.
The same thing used to happen to me at college. Most often in the dinning hall. I would be standing in line waiting for food, watching the hustle and bustle of the Chartwells workers and it would hit me, "I'm in College!" I would go back to the 'people watching booth' where my friends were waiting and I would say, "You guys! We're in college!" With a smile and a laugh they would reply, "Uhh, yeah, Becka, we've been in college for 3 years now." I guess I was always amazed that I was actually in college because when I was little, college was my end goal. I was going to college. I didn't know what I would do there nor what I would do after wards; I figured I would get my MRS degree because that is what happens after college. Thankfully my good friend Claudia kicked that idea out of my head my freshman year and made me find a realistic goal for my life beyond college, because there WAS life after college. I am forever grateful to her for that, because obviously I did not get my MRS degree and I did have a goal for a particular profession, to become a teacher, which is what led me to Indonesia.
Life is crazy, like a roller coaster (I know, how cliche, but I finally understand why people say that, and not just because of the ups and downs). Sometimes in life you want to scream and cry, sometimes you want to laugh and throw your hands up, sometimes you are scared of what may happen next, then excited at the rush of what is happening; in the end, even though you know both the good and bad feelings are going to come, you still want to ride the roller coaster and you actually look forward to the downhill thrust after the gradual climb up the treacherous hill. So enjoy the treacherous hill, because that's when the fun part is about to start. (Gradual and climb were two spelling words last week for my students... I should tell them I used those words in a sentence)
Well, I hope your week goes well,
Rebekah
Today I was walking to school to get some extra grading done over the weekend. It was mid-day and the sun was shining bright. I stepped outside in my T-shirt, capri pants and flip flops. I looked up with my eyes closed to feel the sun on my face. I smelled the freshly cut fields and heard the birds gaily chirping. To be honest I almost felt like I was in Switzerland. I couldn't help smiling and praising God for such a beautiful summer day. Then it hit me, it isn't summer, it is the middle of JANUARY! I laughed to myself at the fact. I can't believe I am in Indonesia and get to experience summer weather all year round. I love being hit with the facts of my life and having a new amazement of God who brought me to this country where I get to experience so many wonderful things.
The same thing used to happen to me at college. Most often in the dinning hall. I would be standing in line waiting for food, watching the hustle and bustle of the Chartwells workers and it would hit me, "I'm in College!" I would go back to the 'people watching booth' where my friends were waiting and I would say, "You guys! We're in college!" With a smile and a laugh they would reply, "Uhh, yeah, Becka, we've been in college for 3 years now." I guess I was always amazed that I was actually in college because when I was little, college was my end goal. I was going to college. I didn't know what I would do there nor what I would do after wards; I figured I would get my MRS degree because that is what happens after college. Thankfully my good friend Claudia kicked that idea out of my head my freshman year and made me find a realistic goal for my life beyond college, because there WAS life after college. I am forever grateful to her for that, because obviously I did not get my MRS degree and I did have a goal for a particular profession, to become a teacher, which is what led me to Indonesia.
Life is crazy, like a roller coaster (I know, how cliche, but I finally understand why people say that, and not just because of the ups and downs). Sometimes in life you want to scream and cry, sometimes you want to laugh and throw your hands up, sometimes you are scared of what may happen next, then excited at the rush of what is happening; in the end, even though you know both the good and bad feelings are going to come, you still want to ride the roller coaster and you actually look forward to the downhill thrust after the gradual climb up the treacherous hill. So enjoy the treacherous hill, because that's when the fun part is about to start. (Gradual and climb were two spelling words last week for my students... I should tell them I used those words in a sentence)
Well, I hope your week goes well,
Rebekah
Monday, January 10, 2011
Crunching Leaves
Dear Friend,
Today I was able to crunch two wonderful sets of leaves at two different times. Yes, crunchable leaves in January. You see, we don't have Fall here in Indonesia, but occasionally leaves get old and fall of their trees, then they dry up and lie waiting for me to crunch them. I was a little skeptical about their crunching ability, but was pleasantly surprised. Both sets of leaves that I stepped on sounded like biting into a really fresh Pringles chip. Once I wanted to collect a shoe box full of prime crunching leaves and save them until February and then sprinkle them on the side walk to watch people excitedly crunch them, because one rarely ever sees crunchable leaves in February.
Speaking of crunch. Once I was babysitting these kids and we were having dinner with baby carrots as the veggie. Naturally the 5 year old boy didn't like them and wasn't going to eat them. "Let's see who can make the biggest crunch," I said right before chomping into one of my baby carrots. C-R-U-N-C-H! His sisters immediately joined in the carrot crunching game. "I think that was an 8!" "Oh wow! Definitely a 10." "That carrot barely made a sound, 2" Eventually the 5 year old joined in. He took one carrot and bit as hard as he could, "Wow! That was really loud~!" we all exclaimed. His big blue eyes lit up at the praise he recieved and he decided to give the same baby carrot another big chomp; unfortunately, this one was followed by a cry of pain. The carrot was too small and he accidentally chomped on his finger! I looked at his big blue eyes and pouting face, then one giant elephant tear glided down his cheek. So much for the "let's make eating carrots fun" game.
Today was the first day of school in 2011. We have some student teachers in grade 2 and 3. I can't believe just one year ago I was in the exact same shoes; experiencing my first overwhelming day in a new school wondering "How will I ever do this?" But then, I always managed; we all did, that's college. We would receive assignments that are hard, crazy and time consuming; which we 'brilliantly' left to the last minute to complete, but then we always do finish them, and finish them well. I miss those crunch days. Running to the computer lab after choir, creating a cover page and adding page numbers, printing out my paper, "Come on printer, come on!" I would whisper, then sprinting up a flight of stairs, running across the green soggy grass in front of the chapel, dashing through three sets of double doors, running up another flight of stairs and finally arriving in the classroom to hand in my paper right as class is about to begin. All I still needed was to staple the pages together, but we always ended up doing that in class. I also miss studying in the library with friends, taking study breaks by running around outside, grabbing a buffalo wrap from the Blink, or posing for silly pictures with our computers. Ahhh the "good ol' days," ha, I know, it hasn't been long enough to be good old days yet, but eventually it will be! I wonder how long must you wait to be able to say, "in the good ol' days..."
Well anyways, I hope you have a splendiferous week!
Your friend,
Rebekah E. S.
Today I was able to crunch two wonderful sets of leaves at two different times. Yes, crunchable leaves in January. You see, we don't have Fall here in Indonesia, but occasionally leaves get old and fall of their trees, then they dry up and lie waiting for me to crunch them. I was a little skeptical about their crunching ability, but was pleasantly surprised. Both sets of leaves that I stepped on sounded like biting into a really fresh Pringles chip. Once I wanted to collect a shoe box full of prime crunching leaves and save them until February and then sprinkle them on the side walk to watch people excitedly crunch them, because one rarely ever sees crunchable leaves in February.
Speaking of crunch. Once I was babysitting these kids and we were having dinner with baby carrots as the veggie. Naturally the 5 year old boy didn't like them and wasn't going to eat them. "Let's see who can make the biggest crunch," I said right before chomping into one of my baby carrots. C-R-U-N-C-H! His sisters immediately joined in the carrot crunching game. "I think that was an 8!" "Oh wow! Definitely a 10." "That carrot barely made a sound, 2" Eventually the 5 year old joined in. He took one carrot and bit as hard as he could, "Wow! That was really loud~!" we all exclaimed. His big blue eyes lit up at the praise he recieved and he decided to give the same baby carrot another big chomp; unfortunately, this one was followed by a cry of pain. The carrot was too small and he accidentally chomped on his finger! I looked at his big blue eyes and pouting face, then one giant elephant tear glided down his cheek. So much for the "let's make eating carrots fun" game.
Today was the first day of school in 2011. We have some student teachers in grade 2 and 3. I can't believe just one year ago I was in the exact same shoes; experiencing my first overwhelming day in a new school wondering "How will I ever do this?" But then, I always managed; we all did, that's college. We would receive assignments that are hard, crazy and time consuming; which we 'brilliantly' left to the last minute to complete, but then we always do finish them, and finish them well. I miss those crunch days. Running to the computer lab after choir, creating a cover page and adding page numbers, printing out my paper, "Come on printer, come on!" I would whisper, then sprinting up a flight of stairs, running across the green soggy grass in front of the chapel, dashing through three sets of double doors, running up another flight of stairs and finally arriving in the classroom to hand in my paper right as class is about to begin. All I still needed was to staple the pages together, but we always ended up doing that in class. I also miss studying in the library with friends, taking study breaks by running around outside, grabbing a buffalo wrap from the Blink, or posing for silly pictures with our computers. Ahhh the "good ol' days," ha, I know, it hasn't been long enough to be good old days yet, but eventually it will be! I wonder how long must you wait to be able to say, "in the good ol' days..."
Well anyways, I hope you have a splendiferous week!
Your friend,
Rebekah E. S.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Cooking and Imaginations
Dear Friend,
The Christmas season is upon us, I am sitting on the couch watching snowflakes as big as feathers from a pillow fall on to the roof tops. How are your preparations for the Christmas festivities? My preparations have included baking many cookies. So far Mom and I have made 3 different types of cookies.
Today I was making molasses cookies. I had my brown sugar in the bowl, and as I added the molasses, I watched the patterns of the brown liquid as it dropped onto the sides of the bowl and seeped into the brown sugar. "Look at the curly pattern it makes," I exclaimed to Mom. "Hm... so you still cook the same huh?" she replied. She was referring to the way I baked in elementary.
I used to always help my mom bake as a 1st or 2nd grader. Now friend, you must understand that it takes a very patient mother to let her 6 or 7 year old help her bake cookies. Mom always let me add the ingredients to the bowl and mix it, an easy enough task right? Well, it always took me ages because I would narrate stories of miniature villages.
There I am, sitting on a stool so that I could see over the counter and in to the big bowl. First I had to add the flour which created a grand snowy mountain. I would pretend there were villagers who lived on this mountain and they just had a snow storm. "The village of Cookiedom has just suffered a heavy snow storm." Next I would add the sugar, pouring it out on top of the mountain to create a hail storm. "OH NO! The villagers that are trying to survive the heavy snow fall are now hit with a hail storm," I would narrate. Next I would strategically add the milk. "Just when they thought it was all over, a little stream of white liquid appears and turns into a big flood." Then this big medal thing would come and ruin the whole town and even their mountain. "Ahhhhh, the people of Cookiedom are lost forever... until we bake again," I would smile at Mom. Sometimes my mom would take the bowl and start mixing it because my narrations would take too long. To be honest, sometimes I still think of those stories when I cook, but I just say them in my head.
What a funny child I must have been. Did you know that at this same age I once told my Aunty Kathi that I didn't have an imagination. My sister would always go play 'lost children' with Aunty Kathi's daughter. One day I was hanging around the kitchen where mom and Aunty Kathi were talking. Perhaps I was being annoying because Aunty Kathi said, "Why don't you go play 'lost children' with Hannah and Megan." "I can't," I replied seriously, "I don't have an imagination."
Why did I think this? I have no idea. Perhaps because I didn't like playing with dolls and I wasn't any good when I tried to play lost children, but I obviously did have some sort of imagination if I could create a village full of natural disasters while baking.
Well friend, I have to go make lunch then practice for our Christmas eve service.
Merry Christmas if I don't write before then!
I'm thinking of you and hoping you are having a great holiday.
Your friend,
Rebekah E. S.
The Christmas season is upon us, I am sitting on the couch watching snowflakes as big as feathers from a pillow fall on to the roof tops. How are your preparations for the Christmas festivities? My preparations have included baking many cookies. So far Mom and I have made 3 different types of cookies.
Today I was making molasses cookies. I had my brown sugar in the bowl, and as I added the molasses, I watched the patterns of the brown liquid as it dropped onto the sides of the bowl and seeped into the brown sugar. "Look at the curly pattern it makes," I exclaimed to Mom. "Hm... so you still cook the same huh?" she replied. She was referring to the way I baked in elementary.
I used to always help my mom bake as a 1st or 2nd grader. Now friend, you must understand that it takes a very patient mother to let her 6 or 7 year old help her bake cookies. Mom always let me add the ingredients to the bowl and mix it, an easy enough task right? Well, it always took me ages because I would narrate stories of miniature villages.
There I am, sitting on a stool so that I could see over the counter and in to the big bowl. First I had to add the flour which created a grand snowy mountain. I would pretend there were villagers who lived on this mountain and they just had a snow storm. "The village of Cookiedom has just suffered a heavy snow storm." Next I would add the sugar, pouring it out on top of the mountain to create a hail storm. "OH NO! The villagers that are trying to survive the heavy snow fall are now hit with a hail storm," I would narrate. Next I would strategically add the milk. "Just when they thought it was all over, a little stream of white liquid appears and turns into a big flood." Then this big medal thing would come and ruin the whole town and even their mountain. "Ahhhhh, the people of Cookiedom are lost forever... until we bake again," I would smile at Mom. Sometimes my mom would take the bowl and start mixing it because my narrations would take too long. To be honest, sometimes I still think of those stories when I cook, but I just say them in my head.
What a funny child I must have been. Did you know that at this same age I once told my Aunty Kathi that I didn't have an imagination. My sister would always go play 'lost children' with Aunty Kathi's daughter. One day I was hanging around the kitchen where mom and Aunty Kathi were talking. Perhaps I was being annoying because Aunty Kathi said, "Why don't you go play 'lost children' with Hannah and Megan." "I can't," I replied seriously, "I don't have an imagination."
Why did I think this? I have no idea. Perhaps because I didn't like playing with dolls and I wasn't any good when I tried to play lost children, but I obviously did have some sort of imagination if I could create a village full of natural disasters while baking.
Well friend, I have to go make lunch then practice for our Christmas eve service.
Merry Christmas if I don't write before then!
I'm thinking of you and hoping you are having a great holiday.
Your friend,
Rebekah E. S.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Airports
Dear Friend,
Hi! How is your Christmas holiday? Mine is starting out well. I made it safely to my parents house, and have talked a mile a minute since I arrived and probably won't stop until I leave. There is just so much to tell my parents, and it is so much fun when I can see them face to face!
Before I saw my parents today though, I had a 7 hour layover in Narita. Thankfully it was an airport I am most familiar with. Did you know that I have been to at least 23 different airports in 11 different countries? Seven hours is a long time, so I had time to count them out. I also had plenty of time to journal, reflect, think, pray, and I even wrote down a blog while I ate a double cheese burger at McDonalds. So here is my blog transported from paper into cyberspace.
Today as I sat in the blue chairs at Narita airport, I watched people pass through the security check to head towards their international destinations. So many different emotions filled the area! To my left, one grandchild tormentingly cried because grandpa was leaving, to my right two sweethearts were hugging a final goodbye. A few minutes later I heard the stressed voice of a father reprimanding his son for riding on the luggage carts. Groups excitedly headed out on a new adventure, families were leaving together counting to make sure they had every child, and some people had no one to say good-bye to. I wonder what everyone's story is. Where is he going? Is she going home, or leaving home? Did they just meet during this trip, or have they known each other for years? I wonder.
Do you get emotional when you travel? Do you tear up when you have to say good-bye? I have been traveling since I was 9 months old, and I never used to get emotional. I remember leaving Switzerland as a six year old. It was the first time I was conscious of being in Switzerland, the first time I met my Swiss relatives. It was a fun few months, but now it was time to go back to Japan. My godmother, who is also my aunt, dropped us off at the airport. She gave us all hugs and was getting teary eyed. I gave her a hug, said good-bye and was ready to go. I had to carry my older sisters massive teddy bear because I was the 6 year old so I should carry the doll, I didn't like dolls and felt silly. We showed the man in the uniform our passports and tickets, walked through the gates and headed up the escalator. I remember looking over the teddy bears head, through the big glass wall, at my godmother and I tried to look sad as I waved one last time. I thought I was an odd cold hearted child since I didn't feel sad and wasn't crying. Today I realized why I never used to cry at airports... and it is not because I was cold-hearted. I was always leaving with my family. The four people that mattered the most to me were still with me, so what was there to be sad about?
It wasn't until I was in highschool that I got teary-eyed at an airport. I was heading for America to attend a mission trip. I was fine saying good-bye to my parents, but then as I stepped on the escalator going down to departures, I looked up and saw my parents through another glass window. As they disapeared from my view, I felt a knot in my throat. I was traveling alone for the first time, no family was with me, I did no know what may happen. Naturally I would cry. Wouldn't you?
Now, I can't help but get teary-eyed when I say bye to family, because the four people I care about most are not traveling with me. We always try to be so brave and not cry, but it never works. When my sisters dropped me off at the airport so I could move to Indonesia, I cried. We all did. We had no idea when we would see each other again. In fact, we still don't! I am with my parents now, but after the holiday when I go back home to Indonesia, I won't know when I will see them again. We don't even know when our whole family will be together again. That's a scary thought! Thankfully, I have the assurance of Christ, that He is in control of everything.
I am so blessed to have such a wonderful family that loves to travel. I love traveling with my parents and sisters, watching movies together, playing card games or talking. Now, I travel alone. I always wonder... when will I get to travel with someone again? Someone I love and never have to leave. When will I be traveling with my own children, knowing that my family is once again traveling with me. God knows when, I love that He knows and that He has it all planned out.
All this from sitting in an airport. Seven hours is a long time to be alone and think.
Your Friend,
Rebekah Edith
Hi! How is your Christmas holiday? Mine is starting out well. I made it safely to my parents house, and have talked a mile a minute since I arrived and probably won't stop until I leave. There is just so much to tell my parents, and it is so much fun when I can see them face to face!
Before I saw my parents today though, I had a 7 hour layover in Narita. Thankfully it was an airport I am most familiar with. Did you know that I have been to at least 23 different airports in 11 different countries? Seven hours is a long time, so I had time to count them out. I also had plenty of time to journal, reflect, think, pray, and I even wrote down a blog while I ate a double cheese burger at McDonalds. So here is my blog transported from paper into cyberspace.
Today as I sat in the blue chairs at Narita airport, I watched people pass through the security check to head towards their international destinations. So many different emotions filled the area! To my left, one grandchild tormentingly cried because grandpa was leaving, to my right two sweethearts were hugging a final goodbye. A few minutes later I heard the stressed voice of a father reprimanding his son for riding on the luggage carts. Groups excitedly headed out on a new adventure, families were leaving together counting to make sure they had every child, and some people had no one to say good-bye to. I wonder what everyone's story is. Where is he going? Is she going home, or leaving home? Did they just meet during this trip, or have they known each other for years? I wonder.
Do you get emotional when you travel? Do you tear up when you have to say good-bye? I have been traveling since I was 9 months old, and I never used to get emotional. I remember leaving Switzerland as a six year old. It was the first time I was conscious of being in Switzerland, the first time I met my Swiss relatives. It was a fun few months, but now it was time to go back to Japan. My godmother, who is also my aunt, dropped us off at the airport. She gave us all hugs and was getting teary eyed. I gave her a hug, said good-bye and was ready to go. I had to carry my older sisters massive teddy bear because I was the 6 year old so I should carry the doll, I didn't like dolls and felt silly. We showed the man in the uniform our passports and tickets, walked through the gates and headed up the escalator. I remember looking over the teddy bears head, through the big glass wall, at my godmother and I tried to look sad as I waved one last time. I thought I was an odd cold hearted child since I didn't feel sad and wasn't crying. Today I realized why I never used to cry at airports... and it is not because I was cold-hearted. I was always leaving with my family. The four people that mattered the most to me were still with me, so what was there to be sad about?
It wasn't until I was in highschool that I got teary-eyed at an airport. I was heading for America to attend a mission trip. I was fine saying good-bye to my parents, but then as I stepped on the escalator going down to departures, I looked up and saw my parents through another glass window. As they disapeared from my view, I felt a knot in my throat. I was traveling alone for the first time, no family was with me, I did no know what may happen. Naturally I would cry. Wouldn't you?
Now, I can't help but get teary-eyed when I say bye to family, because the four people I care about most are not traveling with me. We always try to be so brave and not cry, but it never works. When my sisters dropped me off at the airport so I could move to Indonesia, I cried. We all did. We had no idea when we would see each other again. In fact, we still don't! I am with my parents now, but after the holiday when I go back home to Indonesia, I won't know when I will see them again. We don't even know when our whole family will be together again. That's a scary thought! Thankfully, I have the assurance of Christ, that He is in control of everything.
I am so blessed to have such a wonderful family that loves to travel. I love traveling with my parents and sisters, watching movies together, playing card games or talking. Now, I travel alone. I always wonder... when will I get to travel with someone again? Someone I love and never have to leave. When will I be traveling with my own children, knowing that my family is once again traveling with me. God knows when, I love that He knows and that He has it all planned out.
All this from sitting in an airport. Seven hours is a long time to be alone and think.
Your Friend,
Rebekah Edith
Friday, December 17, 2010
Leaving on a Jet Plane
Dear Friend,
Apa kabar (how are you)?
Today was our last day of school. Wow... I have been a teacher for half a year. CRAZY! Ah, now to become a good teacher that knows what to do and how to help each individual child and their specific needs.
Today is my last full day in Indonesia. For Christmas I will go to Japan to be with my parents. It is exciting... yet I am sad. I am sad to leave Indonesia. I don't know why I have this sad feeling, I know I will come back in less than a month. But I guess a month seems like a long time. A long time to not see my wonderful students, colleagues and friends. But it will be good to be with my parents. Perhaps I have this sad feeling because normally when I leave a country or place, I don't know when I will be back, so my mind instantly connects the idea of leaving with a sad feeling. I will miss Indonesia. It has become my home! I will miss eating three different fruit every day, I will miss the food, I will miss listening to the rain and smiling at the rain, I will miss riding on motorcycles, I will miss saying "Pagi Pak" every morning to the security guards, I will miss receiving tons of hugs from my students the instant I walk through the door, I will miss playing after school basketball, and I will miss Tuesday night Bible study. Thankfully, I am not leaving for good! I know I will be back in a month, in the year of 2011!
I am excited for 2011. You know my favorite number is 11, so I have always looked forward to this year. Today in chapel I heard a very good talk. One thing that the speaker made me think of was that we are entering into a new decade. SO much will happen in one decade. Can you imagine? In one decade I will be 32 years old! Perhaps in this decade I will fall in love and be married, maybe even start a family. Perhaps my sisters will have too! My parents might retire from the mission field, or decide they never will. Perhaps, (and this will hopefully happen) I will be bilingual because I will be able to speak Bahasa Indonesia and English. I am excited for this new decade to come, especially with the assurance that God is in control of everything, He already knows all that will happen. I love knowing that. Sometimes I try to make things happen by doing something or saying something, and my plan always fails... but when I leave it up to God, those things end up naturally happening, and I am constantly reminded to just leave my life in God's hands and He will guide my path perfectly.
I want you to sop and think of this past decade, year 2000-2010. How much has happened for you?
For me, just in one year so much has happened, looking at 10 years is crazy!
I have lived in 4 different countries: Japan, America, Switzerland and Indonesia, I moved a countless number of times, I went through middle school, high school, college, and have an international teaching job, I played volleyball on the team and performed in numerous dramas and musicals, I was diagnosed with kyphoscoliosis and wore a back brace, I had braces, I went on a mission trip to Europe, and another one just to Spain, I had Christmas in Japan, Switzerland, America and Peru, I met my best friend, I had two Christmas' over skype, I played monopoly with my sister over skype and lost, my parents house started with 5 people in the year 2000 and dwindled down to 4, then 3, then just 2, I learned to drive, then I learned to drive a manual car, I named my car Fabio, I got in a car crash, I attended my first 'wedding of a close friend,' I had 6 different piano teachers, I learned to yodel, I grew closer to God, I got to know my American grandmother, I twisted my ankle and had to use crutches for weeks, I was in America for longer than a year, I had many game nights and Shakespeare read-throughs... the list goes on and on.
I want you to think, not only what you did this past year, but this past decade, it is a long time... and notice how God's hand is in it all. Sometimes we wonder why different things happen to us... and sometimes, years later when you look back, you can finally realize, "Oh, perhaps that is why God had that happened, so I would be able to do this..."
For example, I had to wear a back brace for four years to help straighten my spine. I still don't know why I had to wear it... besides that fact that it was straightening my spine... but perhaps I will be able to use that experience to connect with some child who also has to wear one and be able to share the gospel to them through that similar experience. Who knows? Only God does, but that is what is so exciting! (Perhaps the experience will not lead to anything else... and that is fine too, I believe the experience of wearing a back brace for all of my high school years has definitely effected who I am today)
Well, like I said, tomorrow I am leaving on a jet plane... but thankfully I DO know when I will be back again... so I need to finish packing.
I am sure I will write again before the new year... Oh man, I am so excited for the year two-thousand-eleven!!! I get to write down my favorite number every time I write the date, --/--/11. I know it is silly, but it will probably make me smile every day.
When does your holiday begin?
What will you be doing?
I hope you have fun! Tell me about it okay?
Your friend,
Rebekah E. S.
Apa kabar (how are you)?
Today was our last day of school. Wow... I have been a teacher for half a year. CRAZY! Ah, now to become a good teacher that knows what to do and how to help each individual child and their specific needs.
Today is my last full day in Indonesia. For Christmas I will go to Japan to be with my parents. It is exciting... yet I am sad. I am sad to leave Indonesia. I don't know why I have this sad feeling, I know I will come back in less than a month. But I guess a month seems like a long time. A long time to not see my wonderful students, colleagues and friends. But it will be good to be with my parents. Perhaps I have this sad feeling because normally when I leave a country or place, I don't know when I will be back, so my mind instantly connects the idea of leaving with a sad feeling. I will miss Indonesia. It has become my home! I will miss eating three different fruit every day, I will miss the food, I will miss listening to the rain and smiling at the rain, I will miss riding on motorcycles, I will miss saying "Pagi Pak" every morning to the security guards, I will miss receiving tons of hugs from my students the instant I walk through the door, I will miss playing after school basketball, and I will miss Tuesday night Bible study. Thankfully, I am not leaving for good! I know I will be back in a month, in the year of 2011!
I am excited for 2011. You know my favorite number is 11, so I have always looked forward to this year. Today in chapel I heard a very good talk. One thing that the speaker made me think of was that we are entering into a new decade. SO much will happen in one decade. Can you imagine? In one decade I will be 32 years old! Perhaps in this decade I will fall in love and be married, maybe even start a family. Perhaps my sisters will have too! My parents might retire from the mission field, or decide they never will. Perhaps, (and this will hopefully happen) I will be bilingual because I will be able to speak Bahasa Indonesia and English. I am excited for this new decade to come, especially with the assurance that God is in control of everything, He already knows all that will happen. I love knowing that. Sometimes I try to make things happen by doing something or saying something, and my plan always fails... but when I leave it up to God, those things end up naturally happening, and I am constantly reminded to just leave my life in God's hands and He will guide my path perfectly.
I want you to sop and think of this past decade, year 2000-2010. How much has happened for you?
For me, just in one year so much has happened, looking at 10 years is crazy!
I have lived in 4 different countries: Japan, America, Switzerland and Indonesia, I moved a countless number of times, I went through middle school, high school, college, and have an international teaching job, I played volleyball on the team and performed in numerous dramas and musicals, I was diagnosed with kyphoscoliosis and wore a back brace, I had braces, I went on a mission trip to Europe, and another one just to Spain, I had Christmas in Japan, Switzerland, America and Peru, I met my best friend, I had two Christmas' over skype, I played monopoly with my sister over skype and lost, my parents house started with 5 people in the year 2000 and dwindled down to 4, then 3, then just 2, I learned to drive, then I learned to drive a manual car, I named my car Fabio, I got in a car crash, I attended my first 'wedding of a close friend,' I had 6 different piano teachers, I learned to yodel, I grew closer to God, I got to know my American grandmother, I twisted my ankle and had to use crutches for weeks, I was in America for longer than a year, I had many game nights and Shakespeare read-throughs... the list goes on and on.
I want you to think, not only what you did this past year, but this past decade, it is a long time... and notice how God's hand is in it all. Sometimes we wonder why different things happen to us... and sometimes, years later when you look back, you can finally realize, "Oh, perhaps that is why God had that happened, so I would be able to do this..."
For example, I had to wear a back brace for four years to help straighten my spine. I still don't know why I had to wear it... besides that fact that it was straightening my spine... but perhaps I will be able to use that experience to connect with some child who also has to wear one and be able to share the gospel to them through that similar experience. Who knows? Only God does, but that is what is so exciting! (Perhaps the experience will not lead to anything else... and that is fine too, I believe the experience of wearing a back brace for all of my high school years has definitely effected who I am today)
Well, like I said, tomorrow I am leaving on a jet plane... but thankfully I DO know when I will be back again... so I need to finish packing.
I am sure I will write again before the new year... Oh man, I am so excited for the year two-thousand-eleven!!! I get to write down my favorite number every time I write the date, --/--/11. I know it is silly, but it will probably make me smile every day.
When does your holiday begin?
What will you be doing?
I hope you have fun! Tell me about it okay?
Your friend,
Rebekah E. S.
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