Dear Friend,
How are you? I just wanted to quickly share a couple of silly anecdotes with you.
"So Rebekah, what age do you see yourself getting married?" This is a question that I was asked, more than once, by one of my friends at work. Both times I gave the same reply, "twenty-one," followed by laughter, since I am currently 22. But honestly, when I was growing up I had a plan to get through college in 3 years so that I could graduate at 21 and get married. I mean, what else do you do after college if not get married right? I had it so planned out that I was going to take as many highschool AP courses possible so that I would start college as a sophmore. I know it is possible because when I was in Elementary, I remember hearing that Benji Bailey did that (If he really did, I have no idea, I was in elementary, I didn't even really know what college was!). Well, once I got to highschool I realized that I really didn't want to take that many AP courses. So there went my plan for getting married at 21.
Another common question I've received is, "how many kids do you want?" If you know me very well, you will know that I used to say, "However many God gives me... I guess I will think about stopping after 10 kids." Everyone would laugh, thinking I was joking, but I was slightly serious, I wanted a lot of kids. Well, last night as I was trying to fall asleep this question popped into my head and I realized, "I can't have 10 kids! It would be near impossible to fly my whole family around the world to visit relatives if I had 10 kids." I can't believe I hadn't ever thought of this before, because it's a very relevant point. My family is undoubtedly going to be all over the world. I honestly don't know if my parents, sisters and I will ever be in the same country for more than a year ever again. So, if I had 10 kids, it would cost a fortune to fly them to see my parents or sisters. "Well, your family could just come visit you!" True, but I want my kids to experience other countries and cultures. I would hate to deprive them of that privilege. Perhaps if I marry a pilot, or someone with an extreemly wealthy long lost uncle, then it would be possible... but that's not very likely.
What about you? When did or do you see yourself getting married? How many kids do you want?
Your friend,
Rebekah E.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
How I came to Indonesia
Dear Friend,
Have I ever told you how I ended up in Indonesia?
After I graduated college I had every intention of staying in America. I was going to be the one Schmidt sister that lived in America while both my sisters went overseas to become missionaries and do great things. Well, obviously that did not happen, because I am not in America, and my sisters are not YET overseas. So when did my mind change? At what point did I say, "You know what? I think I will move overseas." Looking back I realize, it was this past summer after a long hot day of work.
I was working at college doing the usual: cleaning toilets, mopping floors, wiping windows, scrubbing banisters, changing trash etc. It was a very hot sticky sweaty day, when I got home and hopped into the shower, I decided to only use the cold water. I remember commenting out loud, "Hmm... taking showers with cold water isn't that bad. Now I know, if I had to live in a country that only had cold water, I would be just fine. But that isn't going to be me, Andrea is the one that will live in Nepal or India or something, not me, I'm the sister that will be living in America, where there is always hot water." Well, I think that little innocent statement of "I could live in a country that just had cold water for showers" was my sort of unconscious go-ahead showing God that I was ready to be pushed around.
Soon after that, I received an email sent out to all Covenant College Education graduates that did not yet have a job. It said, "There is a job position in Indonesia, if you are interested let me know." I remember watching a presentation about this school earlier that year, it was a good presentation, but it wasn't for me, I was the Schmidt girl that was going to live in America.
I mentioned the job to my friend who instantly started saying that I was going to move to Indonesia, get married and never come back. "NO! I'm the one staying in America, Hannah and Andrea are the ones going international," I protested. "Nope, you are moving to Indonesia, I just know it," she proudly replied.
Within ONE week, God closed all the doors to MY plans, meaning the jobs I was pursuing came to dead ends. So I said, "Okay, I will reply to those people in Indonesia just in case that is where God wants me."
Within ONE week I received and filled out an application, had a phone interview and was offered the job.
FOUR weeks later, I was in Indonesia preparing to be the new 'bule' teacher at SPH-LC.
I am convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was a God thing and that I am supposed to be in Indonesia. I love it here. I feel perfectly at home, and honestly, I can't see myself leaving for a very long time. I told a friend recently, "If I ever go back to America, God will probably have to get me fired or something that drastic to tell me it's time to go back." I don't really have much pulling me back to America. "What about friends and family?" you may say. Well, my family is already all over the world (spread across Japan, America, Switzerland, and Brazil) and so are my friends. It's true, I have left many dear friends in America, but they will always be dear friends. If I leave Indonesia, I will be leaving friends here too. Ah the blessed trials of being international. Your friends are everywhere, which is good, but also not. Thank God for skype.
Anyways, there it is my friend, the story of how I ended up in Indonesia, my new home. In case you were wondering, I actually do have hot water, provided by a little water heater hovering above my shower, but I just visited a friends house and they don't have hot water, which is typical in Indonesia.
Till next time,
Ribka
(In the Indonesian Bible, Rebekah is spelled: Ribka... isn't that beautiful sounding... I almost want to introduce myself as Ribka not Rebekah, but I haven't had the guts to yet :-)
Have I ever told you how I ended up in Indonesia?
After I graduated college I had every intention of staying in America. I was going to be the one Schmidt sister that lived in America while both my sisters went overseas to become missionaries and do great things. Well, obviously that did not happen, because I am not in America, and my sisters are not YET overseas. So when did my mind change? At what point did I say, "You know what? I think I will move overseas." Looking back I realize, it was this past summer after a long hot day of work.
I was working at college doing the usual: cleaning toilets, mopping floors, wiping windows, scrubbing banisters, changing trash etc. It was a very hot sticky sweaty day, when I got home and hopped into the shower, I decided to only use the cold water. I remember commenting out loud, "Hmm... taking showers with cold water isn't that bad. Now I know, if I had to live in a country that only had cold water, I would be just fine. But that isn't going to be me, Andrea is the one that will live in Nepal or India or something, not me, I'm the sister that will be living in America, where there is always hot water." Well, I think that little innocent statement of "I could live in a country that just had cold water for showers" was my sort of unconscious go-ahead showing God that I was ready to be pushed around.
Soon after that, I received an email sent out to all Covenant College Education graduates that did not yet have a job. It said, "There is a job position in Indonesia, if you are interested let me know." I remember watching a presentation about this school earlier that year, it was a good presentation, but it wasn't for me, I was the Schmidt girl that was going to live in America.
I mentioned the job to my friend who instantly started saying that I was going to move to Indonesia, get married and never come back. "NO! I'm the one staying in America, Hannah and Andrea are the ones going international," I protested. "Nope, you are moving to Indonesia, I just know it," she proudly replied.
Within ONE week, God closed all the doors to MY plans, meaning the jobs I was pursuing came to dead ends. So I said, "Okay, I will reply to those people in Indonesia just in case that is where God wants me."
Within ONE week I received and filled out an application, had a phone interview and was offered the job.
FOUR weeks later, I was in Indonesia preparing to be the new 'bule' teacher at SPH-LC.
I am convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was a God thing and that I am supposed to be in Indonesia. I love it here. I feel perfectly at home, and honestly, I can't see myself leaving for a very long time. I told a friend recently, "If I ever go back to America, God will probably have to get me fired or something that drastic to tell me it's time to go back." I don't really have much pulling me back to America. "What about friends and family?" you may say. Well, my family is already all over the world (spread across Japan, America, Switzerland, and Brazil) and so are my friends. It's true, I have left many dear friends in America, but they will always be dear friends. If I leave Indonesia, I will be leaving friends here too. Ah the blessed trials of being international. Your friends are everywhere, which is good, but also not. Thank God for skype.
Anyways, there it is my friend, the story of how I ended up in Indonesia, my new home. In case you were wondering, I actually do have hot water, provided by a little water heater hovering above my shower, but I just visited a friends house and they don't have hot water, which is typical in Indonesia.
Till next time,
Ribka
(In the Indonesian Bible, Rebekah is spelled: Ribka... isn't that beautiful sounding... I almost want to introduce myself as Ribka not Rebekah, but I haven't had the guts to yet :-)
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Known in 4 Months
Dear Friend,
I'm sorry it has been so long since I have written. How are you? I'm doing well, it is crazy to think that I have been here for four months now, 1/3 of a year, unbelievable. There is so much I have done and still so much I have not done. I have this mentality of 'I don't have to do it all within the first months, I am here for a while, eventually I will go there, or do that.' For example, we have a spa here that is apparently incredible, as good or better than the ones in Bali, it is only $12 and I haven't been yet! I know, crazy right? But eventually I'll go.
One thing that I have noticed recently is how small Lippo Cikarang is. It is so small that I am known here by the security guards, the ojek drivers, and even the bus drivers. I have 3 example stories for you.
ONE: I was walking to catch the bus for church a couple of weeks ago and as I am leaving the neighborhood the security guard says, "Good morning, Miss Rebekah, where are you going today?" "Church," I reply. Then I thought... hmmm, should I just have said Jakarta, and not church, since there are many muslims around, but then again, God says to be bold about our faith, so I figured, 'church' was a fine response. Don't worry, I haven't ever felt any resentment or anything towards me from Muslims or anyone. Indonesians are so kind, helpful, welcoming etc. Honestly, I have never felt scared or nervous when I have been out in Jakarta or walking around in Lippo Cikarang.
ONE and a HALF: Once I was walking home from Ms. Amy's house, we live in the same neighborhood. A security guard drove by on his motorbike and said, "Goodnight Ms. Rebekah." I guess it is safe to say, the security guards know who I am.
TWO: Recently when I have gone to our little mall, I have gone after school to quickly buy something important that I need for school or the house. It is usually getting dark, or already dark when I am leaving, so I typically decide to ride an ojek home, it's faster and I don't like to walk at night by myself. So I walk to where the ojeks are, tell them I want an ojek, and before I tell them where I live, they iether ask me "Dago Villas?" or one of the other ojek drivers will say it, telling their friend, "Dago, Dago Villa, ja?" This has happened more than once, should I be scared that they know the nieghborhood I live in? Probably not. I mean, it is a small town, they probably know where almost everyone lives since they drive us everywhere... perhaps I'm a little more memorable since I am one of the tall bule (albino) woman, and there aren't many of us here. I can think of 4 in Lippo Cikarang, and we all live in the same neighborhood, not too hard to remember, right?
THREE: There is a bus that goes from Lippo Cikarang to Jakarta and back. I catch this bus to go to church on Sunday mornings, and occasionally I will catch the bus on the way back from church. Well, the other Sunday I was hanging out with a friend after church. As we were walking to one of the malls I saw the bus driving towards us, I looked and shook my head and my hand telling them I wasn't getting on, because they recognized me and were about to stop. Actually, I am very grateful that they do know me. One day after church I was walking to catch the bus. You have to walk up and over this bridge that crosses the 6 lanes of traffic. As I am decending the bridge I see the bus coming by. If I miss the bus, I have to wait at least 45 minutes for the next bus to come. I quickly run to catch it. When I finally get to the bottom, I realized they had stopped the bus and were waiting for me. They must have seen me on the overpass and knew I was going to be getting on. I was SO thankful to God for that!
Anyways,
I have to get ready for school now,
I hope you have a wonderful week!
Rebekah E.
I'm sorry it has been so long since I have written. How are you? I'm doing well, it is crazy to think that I have been here for four months now, 1/3 of a year, unbelievable. There is so much I have done and still so much I have not done. I have this mentality of 'I don't have to do it all within the first months, I am here for a while, eventually I will go there, or do that.' For example, we have a spa here that is apparently incredible, as good or better than the ones in Bali, it is only $12 and I haven't been yet! I know, crazy right? But eventually I'll go.
One thing that I have noticed recently is how small Lippo Cikarang is. It is so small that I am known here by the security guards, the ojek drivers, and even the bus drivers. I have 3 example stories for you.
ONE: I was walking to catch the bus for church a couple of weeks ago and as I am leaving the neighborhood the security guard says, "Good morning, Miss Rebekah, where are you going today?" "Church," I reply. Then I thought... hmmm, should I just have said Jakarta, and not church, since there are many muslims around, but then again, God says to be bold about our faith, so I figured, 'church' was a fine response. Don't worry, I haven't ever felt any resentment or anything towards me from Muslims or anyone. Indonesians are so kind, helpful, welcoming etc. Honestly, I have never felt scared or nervous when I have been out in Jakarta or walking around in Lippo Cikarang.
ONE and a HALF: Once I was walking home from Ms. Amy's house, we live in the same neighborhood. A security guard drove by on his motorbike and said, "Goodnight Ms. Rebekah." I guess it is safe to say, the security guards know who I am.
TWO: Recently when I have gone to our little mall, I have gone after school to quickly buy something important that I need for school or the house. It is usually getting dark, or already dark when I am leaving, so I typically decide to ride an ojek home, it's faster and I don't like to walk at night by myself. So I walk to where the ojeks are, tell them I want an ojek, and before I tell them where I live, they iether ask me "Dago Villas?" or one of the other ojek drivers will say it, telling their friend, "Dago, Dago Villa, ja?" This has happened more than once, should I be scared that they know the nieghborhood I live in? Probably not. I mean, it is a small town, they probably know where almost everyone lives since they drive us everywhere... perhaps I'm a little more memorable since I am one of the tall bule (albino) woman, and there aren't many of us here. I can think of 4 in Lippo Cikarang, and we all live in the same neighborhood, not too hard to remember, right?
THREE: There is a bus that goes from Lippo Cikarang to Jakarta and back. I catch this bus to go to church on Sunday mornings, and occasionally I will catch the bus on the way back from church. Well, the other Sunday I was hanging out with a friend after church. As we were walking to one of the malls I saw the bus driving towards us, I looked and shook my head and my hand telling them I wasn't getting on, because they recognized me and were about to stop. Actually, I am very grateful that they do know me. One day after church I was walking to catch the bus. You have to walk up and over this bridge that crosses the 6 lanes of traffic. As I am decending the bridge I see the bus coming by. If I miss the bus, I have to wait at least 45 minutes for the next bus to come. I quickly run to catch it. When I finally get to the bottom, I realized they had stopped the bus and were waiting for me. They must have seen me on the overpass and knew I was going to be getting on. I was SO thankful to God for that!
Anyways,
I have to get ready for school now,
I hope you have a wonderful week!
Rebekah E.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Please Pray
Dear Friend,
I just want to write a short note saying please pray for Indonesia.
There have been many disasters here recently.
No, I am not near any of them.
First there was an earthquake and tsunami that wiped out a small island. Then there was horrible weather that relief teams could not even take the 9 hour boat ride to the island to help. Finally the storms have stopped and teams are starting to arrive.
There is a volcano that erupted and I just heard at church how the ash totally devastates everything and it keeps moving, so people are getting evacuated and moved to the safe zone, and then there is more ash and they have to move again because the 'safe zone' become not so safe anymore. Hospitals do not have enough space to treat everyone with burns. The ash turns into a cement sort of paste that coat your lungs if you breath it in. The fields that are covered in ash will not be fruitful for years to come. I remember seeing Mt. St. Helen and how the land that has not been touched still looks very dead and that blew up years ago! Houses and everything are covered in inches of ash which feels like sandpaper on your clothes. Also, airlines are canceling flights because of the ash in the air.
Indonesia needs prayer for the relief teams to be able to effectively help. Also, for people to not try to take advantage of those that have lost everything. For people to be able to find shelter and food. For God's helping hand to be seen through all of this.
Thanks friend,
I'm sorry I haven't written for a while.
I'll let you know how I am doing soon.
Rebekah E.
I just want to write a short note saying please pray for Indonesia.
There have been many disasters here recently.
No, I am not near any of them.
First there was an earthquake and tsunami that wiped out a small island. Then there was horrible weather that relief teams could not even take the 9 hour boat ride to the island to help. Finally the storms have stopped and teams are starting to arrive.
There is a volcano that erupted and I just heard at church how the ash totally devastates everything and it keeps moving, so people are getting evacuated and moved to the safe zone, and then there is more ash and they have to move again because the 'safe zone' become not so safe anymore. Hospitals do not have enough space to treat everyone with burns. The ash turns into a cement sort of paste that coat your lungs if you breath it in. The fields that are covered in ash will not be fruitful for years to come. I remember seeing Mt. St. Helen and how the land that has not been touched still looks very dead and that blew up years ago! Houses and everything are covered in inches of ash which feels like sandpaper on your clothes. Also, airlines are canceling flights because of the ash in the air.
Indonesia needs prayer for the relief teams to be able to effectively help. Also, for people to not try to take advantage of those that have lost everything. For people to be able to find shelter and food. For God's helping hand to be seen through all of this.
Thanks friend,
I'm sorry I haven't written for a while.
I'll let you know how I am doing soon.
Rebekah E.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Time to Think
Dear Friend,
This past week I have realized something, in Indonesia I hear myself think, and I think a lot.
Last Saturday I went to the mall with a friend and her boyfriend and his cousin. We were eating lunch and they started talking in Bahasa Indonesia. It doesn't bother me at all when people talk in a language I don't understand. I actually enjoy it because I find myself zoning and out thinking. Because there isn't anyone having a conversation that my brain needs to concentrate on, my mind is free to think. I really enjoy being able to think.
In this age and time there is so much stimulating us, keeping us away from hearing ourselves think.
In America there is always someone I can be listening to or thinking about. Even when I went walking through my college campus by myself there was always something to listen to. I would hear the person sitting on a rock playing guitar and singing, my mind would think about the tune for the 5 seconds it takes me to walk by, then my ears would tune into the conversation of the two girls laughing on the park bench, next my eyes focus on the group piling into a car and my mind begins to wonder where they are going. Eventually I am sitting in my car, I plug in my i-tunes or turn on the radio. I think about the songs that come on through my shuffle, but I don't ever sit in silence to think.
When it is silent with nothing fighting my brain for my attention, then I can think and hear my thoughts, I can wonder and problem solve. In Indonesia, even if it is not silent, the words are not activating my brain, so it becomes white noise and I am able to think. Really Think. Not day-dream and imagine myself doing crazy fun things with crazy fun people. But actually think.
Anyways,
I must be off.
Your friend,
Rebekah
P.S. So this post didn't have the typically funny Becka~ness in it. So if you want to see me having fun with my sister and being crazy... watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FyphqVcB3Q
This past week I have realized something, in Indonesia I hear myself think, and I think a lot.
Last Saturday I went to the mall with a friend and her boyfriend and his cousin. We were eating lunch and they started talking in Bahasa Indonesia. It doesn't bother me at all when people talk in a language I don't understand. I actually enjoy it because I find myself zoning and out thinking. Because there isn't anyone having a conversation that my brain needs to concentrate on, my mind is free to think. I really enjoy being able to think.
In this age and time there is so much stimulating us, keeping us away from hearing ourselves think.
In America there is always someone I can be listening to or thinking about. Even when I went walking through my college campus by myself there was always something to listen to. I would hear the person sitting on a rock playing guitar and singing, my mind would think about the tune for the 5 seconds it takes me to walk by, then my ears would tune into the conversation of the two girls laughing on the park bench, next my eyes focus on the group piling into a car and my mind begins to wonder where they are going. Eventually I am sitting in my car, I plug in my i-tunes or turn on the radio. I think about the songs that come on through my shuffle, but I don't ever sit in silence to think.
When it is silent with nothing fighting my brain for my attention, then I can think and hear my thoughts, I can wonder and problem solve. In Indonesia, even if it is not silent, the words are not activating my brain, so it becomes white noise and I am able to think. Really Think. Not day-dream and imagine myself doing crazy fun things with crazy fun people. But actually think.
Anyways,
I must be off.
Your friend,
Rebekah
P.S. So this post didn't have the typically funny Becka~ness in it. So if you want to see me having fun with my sister and being crazy... watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FyphqVcB3Q
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Reality Hits my Childhood Mind
Dear Friend,
Do you remember when you were little and really good at different things? I remember I was an excellent Score Four player and an expert at hiding from people... at least I thought so.
When I was four years old my parents would play Score Four with me. That is the game where you drop the red or black pieces in and you try to make four of your pieces line up in a row. Well, I remember I once beat my dad in 4 moves! We were playing in the front room lying on the floor to see better. I dropped the first piece near the middle, and he dropped his on top of mine. My next piece went in the middle, and he placed his on top of mine again! Then I dropped my third piece in a row. Once you get three in a row with nothing blocking either side, you have won. I victoriously sat up and dropped my fourth piece in the winning spot and gleamed at my brilliance of outwitting my dad from noticing that I was winning. Obviously this meant a lot to me since I can still remember it. About a year ago I realized that, no, I probably was not THAT good at playing Score Four; rather, my parents were probably playing easy on me and letting me win a few times to boost my little four year old ego. Now I cannot confidently nor honestly tell someone that I used to be really good at that game, because I don't know for sure.
When I was five years old I was in America and went to Kindergarten at a Christian school. One day my grandma came to pick me up and being the clown I was, I stood behind her with my finger on my mouth to show everyone else not to tell her I was there. She was holding my jacket and looking around the classroom for me. She asked my teacher, "Do you know where Rebekah is?" I almost gave myself away by laughing, I was so excited that I was tricking her so well! When she turned one way, I moved with her so that she would not see me at all! Finally she realized I was standing behind her, "Oh, there you are!" What fun to trick my grandma like that... or did I? Now I realize that probably she knew I was back there the whole time and was just playing along with me, tricking me. Unlike the child who 'hides' under their covers to momentarily keep away from the tickling parent but knows they are in an obvious enough hiding spot to be found and tickled; I honestly thought I was great at hiding! I thought I was so sneaky, I mean, not everyone can invisibly hide behind someone without that person finding out. Ah the sad realization of reality.
I wonder when I play around with kids, going along with their little tricks, does it make a big enough impression on them to shape who they think they are?
When I started teaching first grade I would talk to them like I would talk to anyone else, then I noticed my partner teacher talking in a more cheerful always happy tone. I wondered, do I need to talk like that too? I have adjusted how I talk to first graders somewhat, but I am not fake with them. Anyways, that almost connects with my stories above... but then... not quite.
Hope your week was well!
Mine was! At the beginning of this week I had been distracted by different things and I noticed that my attitude was different, I felt like I was falsely smiling. I realized that whatever it was that was distracting me and causing me to act slightly fake, needed to stop. I talked with God while walking to school and told him that when I smile I don't want it to be based on silly humanistic things, but I wanted my smile to reflect His love. I had such a good day that day and the days that followed. I knew my smiles, my laughter, my enjoyment of my students was genuine. I am so silly sometimes thinking to hard about things, over analyzing, and worrying when it is all in God's hands and He knows what should and what will happen.
I have to go prepare for this upcoming week!
Do you have any fun things planned this week?
Your friend,
Rebekah E.
P.S. Happy 10/10/10 ... a cool day... but not as cool as 11/11/11 will be... because 11/11/11 is on a Friday so you can totally have an 11/11/11 11:11:11 party!!! Like new years eve, but not!
Do you remember when you were little and really good at different things? I remember I was an excellent Score Four player and an expert at hiding from people... at least I thought so.
When I was four years old my parents would play Score Four with me. That is the game where you drop the red or black pieces in and you try to make four of your pieces line up in a row. Well, I remember I once beat my dad in 4 moves! We were playing in the front room lying on the floor to see better. I dropped the first piece near the middle, and he dropped his on top of mine. My next piece went in the middle, and he placed his on top of mine again! Then I dropped my third piece in a row. Once you get three in a row with nothing blocking either side, you have won. I victoriously sat up and dropped my fourth piece in the winning spot and gleamed at my brilliance of outwitting my dad from noticing that I was winning. Obviously this meant a lot to me since I can still remember it. About a year ago I realized that, no, I probably was not THAT good at playing Score Four; rather, my parents were probably playing easy on me and letting me win a few times to boost my little four year old ego. Now I cannot confidently nor honestly tell someone that I used to be really good at that game, because I don't know for sure.
When I was five years old I was in America and went to Kindergarten at a Christian school. One day my grandma came to pick me up and being the clown I was, I stood behind her with my finger on my mouth to show everyone else not to tell her I was there. She was holding my jacket and looking around the classroom for me. She asked my teacher, "Do you know where Rebekah is?" I almost gave myself away by laughing, I was so excited that I was tricking her so well! When she turned one way, I moved with her so that she would not see me at all! Finally she realized I was standing behind her, "Oh, there you are!" What fun to trick my grandma like that... or did I? Now I realize that probably she knew I was back there the whole time and was just playing along with me, tricking me. Unlike the child who 'hides' under their covers to momentarily keep away from the tickling parent but knows they are in an obvious enough hiding spot to be found and tickled; I honestly thought I was great at hiding! I thought I was so sneaky, I mean, not everyone can invisibly hide behind someone without that person finding out. Ah the sad realization of reality.
I wonder when I play around with kids, going along with their little tricks, does it make a big enough impression on them to shape who they think they are?
When I started teaching first grade I would talk to them like I would talk to anyone else, then I noticed my partner teacher talking in a more cheerful always happy tone. I wondered, do I need to talk like that too? I have adjusted how I talk to first graders somewhat, but I am not fake with them. Anyways, that almost connects with my stories above... but then... not quite.
Hope your week was well!
Mine was! At the beginning of this week I had been distracted by different things and I noticed that my attitude was different, I felt like I was falsely smiling. I realized that whatever it was that was distracting me and causing me to act slightly fake, needed to stop. I talked with God while walking to school and told him that when I smile I don't want it to be based on silly humanistic things, but I wanted my smile to reflect His love. I had such a good day that day and the days that followed. I knew my smiles, my laughter, my enjoyment of my students was genuine. I am so silly sometimes thinking to hard about things, over analyzing, and worrying when it is all in God's hands and He knows what should and what will happen.
I have to go prepare for this upcoming week!
Do you have any fun things planned this week?
Your friend,
Rebekah E.
P.S. Happy 10/10/10 ... a cool day... but not as cool as 11/11/11 will be... because 11/11/11 is on a Friday so you can totally have an 11/11/11 11:11:11 party!!! Like new years eve, but not!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Experiencing True Indonesian Culture
Dear Friend,
What a great week I have had. As you might know, I just had a 12 day break and school started up this past Tuesday. I didn't do much over vacation, just relaxed. My holiday project was sewing a purse with traditional Indonesian material (Batik). This project would be fairly easy if I had a sewing machine and a nearby fabric store. Unfortunately I had neither of those. I needed an inside lining for my purse and decided to be innovative. I found a yellow button down shirt that I never wore, and decided to use that. I spent almost a whole day taking it apart with a seam ripper, trying to save every inch of material I could. Sewing by hand takes a LONG time! I felt so old-school though, thinking back to Jane Austen and their sewing projects.
Ironically, my first day back to school felt like my one day of vacation. After school I had basketball practice. After basketball practice one of the PE teachers was giving me a ride home. After commenting that he and Ms. Cynthia, the other PE teacher, were going to check out some fitness centers, he wondered if I wanted to go too. I figured it would be a 30 minute outing and since I just spent 12 days alone on vacation, I thought it would be good to hang out with people... so I said yes.
Well, the first fitness center was about 30 minutes away!!! It was really fun though. Here I am sitting on the back of a motorcycle, riding through the streets (some were dirt roads), with the hustle and bustle of everyone else leaving work and going home. It was so fun. I was able to see the side stores closer than when I am in a bus driving by. I always feel so separate from the street and culture when I drive by in a big bus looking out of a window. On the motorcycle, with the air blowing in my face, I felt closer to the every day life of that area.
The area I live in is very green and clean; paved roads, nice sidewalks, big houses etc. The area we drove through was more poor, dirt roads, cheap stores, trash thrown on the sides and even goats eating on the side of the street. I was happy to see the "real Indonesia."
After checking out two fitness centers it was around 6 pm and my stomach was making some noises. Ms. Cynthia asked if I was hungry. "I can always eat," I replied. They decided to take me to a traditional Javanese place. "You have to sit on the ground though," they said apprehensively. "Cool!" I enthusiastically replied.
The 'restaurant' was a little outdoor place you walk up to. First you get your plate of rice and toppings, then you choose the different skewered chicken parts you would like to eat. Yes, PARTS of chicken. They were on little wooden skewers and all had this same sweet sort of flavor to them. Looking at the assortment of food I could choose a skewer with two chicken feet, another skewer with a chicken head, one came with four livers, another with three little eggs, there was even one with chicken intestines. Instead of tables, we sat on little mats in a parking lot like area. I ate a chicken foot for the first time, it was crunchy, had a little layer of meat and a thinker layer of skin. I also ate a liver, a little egg, and a few intestines (very chewy). I didn't eat the chicken head though, I told them, "Maybe next time." I was offered the chicken brain after my friend ate the head though, I figured I might as well try it, so I ate a little white chicken brain. It was a little pasty feeling. Our beverage for the evening was warm milk with a chunk of ginger root placed inside. It was surprisingly yummy. Indonesian food is spicy so my lips were burning after eating.
When I was little I used to always eat with my hands. My parents would continually comment that I was going to grow up and live in Sri Lanka where it is okay to eat with your hands. Well, I'm not in Sri Lanka, but here in Indonesia we sometimes eat with our hands too. During dinner after taking a few bites of rice with a spoon the PE teachers look at me and mention, "You know, traditionally we eat with our hands." To their surprise, I gladly ate the rest of my dinner with my hands. The Indonesians watching from the background were amazed that I was eating everything. They would ask my friends in Bahsa Indonesian, "Does she like the food?" My friends were amazed too, a "bule" (technical translation is albino, but causally just means foreigner) eating their food, with her hands, on the ground and enjoying it. I like trying to blend into the culture... even though I will always stand out being a white skinned tall girl with light brown hair.
The store owner joined us on the mat for a friendly conversation. He kept asking if I liked the food. I eventually told him that I really did, and I would even bring my parents to eat there when they come to Indonesia. My friend had to translate for us the whole time. It was all very amusing. This dinner had such a relaxed feeling to it, I kept thinking to myself, "This is what I didn't do over vacation, but what you are supposed to do."
All in all a fun spontaneous evening.
Hope life on your side of the world is going splendiferously!
Your friend,
Rebekah
What a great week I have had. As you might know, I just had a 12 day break and school started up this past Tuesday. I didn't do much over vacation, just relaxed. My holiday project was sewing a purse with traditional Indonesian material (Batik). This project would be fairly easy if I had a sewing machine and a nearby fabric store. Unfortunately I had neither of those. I needed an inside lining for my purse and decided to be innovative. I found a yellow button down shirt that I never wore, and decided to use that. I spent almost a whole day taking it apart with a seam ripper, trying to save every inch of material I could. Sewing by hand takes a LONG time! I felt so old-school though, thinking back to Jane Austen and their sewing projects.
Ironically, my first day back to school felt like my one day of vacation. After school I had basketball practice. After basketball practice one of the PE teachers was giving me a ride home. After commenting that he and Ms. Cynthia, the other PE teacher, were going to check out some fitness centers, he wondered if I wanted to go too. I figured it would be a 30 minute outing and since I just spent 12 days alone on vacation, I thought it would be good to hang out with people... so I said yes.
Well, the first fitness center was about 30 minutes away!!! It was really fun though. Here I am sitting on the back of a motorcycle, riding through the streets (some were dirt roads), with the hustle and bustle of everyone else leaving work and going home. It was so fun. I was able to see the side stores closer than when I am in a bus driving by. I always feel so separate from the street and culture when I drive by in a big bus looking out of a window. On the motorcycle, with the air blowing in my face, I felt closer to the every day life of that area.
The area I live in is very green and clean; paved roads, nice sidewalks, big houses etc. The area we drove through was more poor, dirt roads, cheap stores, trash thrown on the sides and even goats eating on the side of the street. I was happy to see the "real Indonesia."
After checking out two fitness centers it was around 6 pm and my stomach was making some noises. Ms. Cynthia asked if I was hungry. "I can always eat," I replied. They decided to take me to a traditional Javanese place. "You have to sit on the ground though," they said apprehensively. "Cool!" I enthusiastically replied.
The 'restaurant' was a little outdoor place you walk up to. First you get your plate of rice and toppings, then you choose the different skewered chicken parts you would like to eat. Yes, PARTS of chicken. They were on little wooden skewers and all had this same sweet sort of flavor to them. Looking at the assortment of food I could choose a skewer with two chicken feet, another skewer with a chicken head, one came with four livers, another with three little eggs, there was even one with chicken intestines. Instead of tables, we sat on little mats in a parking lot like area. I ate a chicken foot for the first time, it was crunchy, had a little layer of meat and a thinker layer of skin. I also ate a liver, a little egg, and a few intestines (very chewy). I didn't eat the chicken head though, I told them, "Maybe next time." I was offered the chicken brain after my friend ate the head though, I figured I might as well try it, so I ate a little white chicken brain. It was a little pasty feeling. Our beverage for the evening was warm milk with a chunk of ginger root placed inside. It was surprisingly yummy. Indonesian food is spicy so my lips were burning after eating.
When I was little I used to always eat with my hands. My parents would continually comment that I was going to grow up and live in Sri Lanka where it is okay to eat with your hands. Well, I'm not in Sri Lanka, but here in Indonesia we sometimes eat with our hands too. During dinner after taking a few bites of rice with a spoon the PE teachers look at me and mention, "You know, traditionally we eat with our hands." To their surprise, I gladly ate the rest of my dinner with my hands. The Indonesians watching from the background were amazed that I was eating everything. They would ask my friends in Bahsa Indonesian, "Does she like the food?" My friends were amazed too, a "bule" (technical translation is albino, but causally just means foreigner) eating their food, with her hands, on the ground and enjoying it. I like trying to blend into the culture... even though I will always stand out being a white skinned tall girl with light brown hair.
The store owner joined us on the mat for a friendly conversation. He kept asking if I liked the food. I eventually told him that I really did, and I would even bring my parents to eat there when they come to Indonesia. My friend had to translate for us the whole time. It was all very amusing. This dinner had such a relaxed feeling to it, I kept thinking to myself, "This is what I didn't do over vacation, but what you are supposed to do."
All in all a fun spontaneous evening.
Hope life on your side of the world is going splendiferously!
Your friend,
Rebekah
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