Neighbor Kids

Daging Kelinci (Rabbit Meat)

On Sunday I traveled about an 45 minutes away to a restaurant known for serving rabbit meat. Little did I know that you get to pick the live rabbit first, and then they kill it and cook it before your eyes. Our group of eight picked three cute, furry rabbits and had them made into fried rabbit, rabbit soup, and grilled rabbit. The meat was pretty tasty, better than chicken I'd say. It's quite a dilemma when you love both animals and meat. I've heard they do the same pick-slaughter-cook-eat process at some dog meat restaurants here. I'll let you know when/if I brave that one.

Sunda Wedding

This weekend I went with my friend to a wedding reception. The newlywed couple are from the Sunda ethnic group, and so it was a great cultural experience. During my time at the wedding I was able to meet and talk with the student body president of ITB, which is the top engineering and science university in Indonesia. He's the one in the green shirt on the far left. Another interesting cultural observation: Indonesians don't smile for wedding pictures. Kinda makes me stand out in the first picture as the odd one who actually looks happy to be there!

Neighborhood Boys

Would you like pesticide with that?

During my trip to the vegetable farm, I noticed an interesting sequence of events. The farmer’s wife was in the process of two tasks at the same time: cooking lunch and treating some young plants with fungicide (picture above). To apply the pesticide (I gathered that it was named Antracol), she mixed it in a bucket with her hands, poured a little into a small bag with several holes poked in it, and then as the liquid pesticide flowed out of the bag she sloshed it around with her hands so that all the plants got covered. After emptying one bag of pesticide, she quickly dipped her hands in some water, and resumed cutting up some vegetables for lunch. Not long afterwards she resumed her fungicide application, and this time did not wash her hands before cooking again. When lunch was ready a few minutes later, I was kindly offered some food, and in order to not offend (and important value here) I ate a little and expressed my gratitude and enjoyment.

It’s really no wonder that cancer kills many here, especially among the farming community. I’ve heard that some village people don’t wash their vegetables because they believe important vitamins are removed in the washing process. Instances like these convince me that opportunities abound to improve horticulture and quality of life here with some basic training and education. It’s challenging, however, to quickly change the traditional methods that have been used for years among a people who dislike and distrust change.

Vegetable Farming

Due to a three day break after finishing my first unit of language school, I had a free day and was able to travel by motorcycle up into the mountains and visit the small vegetable plot that is financed by my new friend Sigit. Sigit, (top picture) who is still a college student, works as an English teacher and also is trying to make a little money on the side providing capital for a local farmer (bottom picture). Sigit provides money for seed, black plastic mulch, and a few other things that the farmer needs, and in return gets 50% of the profits. This small plot is used for growing tomatoes and chilis at this time of year, being the start of rainy season. In the background of the photos you can see other vegetable production areas. I enjoyed the fresh, cool air and a little manual labor, though I felt bad when I broke the hoe! I'm excited to visit this plot of land frequently enough to watch the progress of the crop and learn more about production practices here. More on this later.

Weekend Adventures

With my adventuresome spirit tugging at my sleeves, this weekend I decided to venture out into the city by myself and do some shopping in a place I hadn’t been yet. All was going well - for example I picked up a new pair of jeans for about $2.15 - until I hopped on the wrong Angkot (picture above). Angkots are the main form of public transportation. There is an intricate network of Angkots that travel a certain and continuous loop from one part of town to another. While confident that I had chosen the right angkot, I didn’t realize that it was going in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. Upon finally making this discovery, I figured that it wouldn’t be long before the angkot got to the end of its loop and turned around. Even when I saw angkots going in the opposite direction, I was confident that if I stayed on long enough it would eventually get to me to my planned destination. Thirty minutes later we reached the end of the loop. By that time all of the other passenger had gotten off and the Angkot driver turned around with a curious smile and asked, “Ke mana?” (To where?). In broken Indonesian I explained to him my error, he laughed, and after another 30 minutes on the same Angkot, I finally arrived at home.

How similar in the journey of life do many get on what they think is the right path, but in fact they’re going the wrong way. And even though they know it’s the wrong way, out of pride they refuse to get off (or ask for directions), thinking that eventually things will turn around if they just wait long enough. For many, sadly, they never do make it home.

My New Friends

Here are some pics of my new friends here. I live with some of these guys and others are guys who I've just gotten to know through my roommates. I'm starting to really enjoy these guys. The first pic is of a game of intense RISK that we played Saturday evening. Although they'd never played it before (I brought it from the U.S.), the guys really got into it.

Yellow Rice Mountian

Who needs birthday cake when you have a mountain of yellow rice? The celebration of important events is often marked with the consumption of the traditional rice mountain. This was a birthday party, and by the way, we did have some chocolate ice-cream afterwards, so I was pretty content.

Anggrek (Orchids)

I recently visited an anggrek (Indonesian for "orchid") show. Pretty impressive. Although pictures don't do it justice, I thought I'd give you a small taste to wet your visual taste buds.

Protests

President Bush is coming to town. Well, not exactly to my new town, but to a town that's not to far away. He'll be here on Nov. 20th, and his coming is creating quite a stir. I still haven't met an Indonesian who thinks too highly of him, but I guess that's not too different than in the U.S. There have been several protests (like the one I saw above) and even a small bombing in Jakarta (no one got hurt). Interesting times.

Vietnamese Friend

The Light Came On

After my first night sleeping in the boarding house with my new Indonesian roommates, I realized something strange: They sleep with the lights on. This seemed so odd to me. Why would you leave the lights on all night long? Several things ran through my mind: its wasting electricity, the lightbulbs will burn out faster, its harder to go to sleep – it just didn’t make logical sense to me. After several weeks of pondering and asking my new friends, the light came on (figuratively that is). There is a perfectly good reason the lights are kept on at night: kecoa and tikus. Cockroaches (2-2.5 inches long) and mice/rats (I saw a dead one the street that seemed to be about the size of a football) inhabit many of the houses here, and they don’t like the light. So now I sleep more peacefully with the lights on, hoping that doing so will prevent me waking up with a cockroach on my nose.

Just another example that differences in culture are not necessarily right or wrong, they are merely the different ways that people have developed to cope and thrive in the environment where they live.

From My Front Porch Looking Out

Hillside Vegetable Production

My New Home

This walkway leads through a crowded neighborhood and up to our house. The house is not the tall one, but the one to the right of it that is tucked away behind the tree. Here is my new bedroom. Its just about big enough to fit two beds. My bed is the one that is halfway under the other. I caught my new roommate Pahala taking a nap, a common practice between 1-3 in the afternoon.

Goodbyes

Goodbyes are tough, but in the journey of life they are necessary. There comes a time when we leave the familiar path behind and set out to explore the new. In these instances not everyone comes along. In fact, sometimes you set out on your own and leave those you love the most behind. They remain with you in heart, but no longer in presence. A goodbye marks the moment when that new part of the journey begins.

I've said so many goodbyes over the past two weeks that I'm almost goodbyed out. There are so many dear friends and close family who I will miss, but in the midst of those goodbyes I've realized how blessed I am to have so many great relationships with so many great people. In goodbyes we feel the freedom to express the depths of our affection for one another, and often the tears alone say enough. As I leave the familiar path and peer over the ledge into the unfamiliar, I will move ahead with the joy of friendships in my heart and with the desire to grow the kind of friendships in Indonesia that will likewise make for hard goodbyes when its time to come home.

The Streets that Await

It won't be long before the lonely blacktops of rural Kansas fade away into the bustling streets of Indonesia. Just one week left in the states before I journey to the other side of the world. I'm excited, but that doesn't make it easy to say goodbyes. I've discovered, however, the very closeness of the friendship that makes the goodbye hard is the closeness that makes it worth it.

Beautiful Colorado

Here a few pics from my past week in Colorado. Ever since I first came to Colorado during the summer three years ago, it's been a dream of mine to be in Colorado when the aspen trees are brilliantly yellow against the dark green pines, spruces, and firs. And since I won't be seeing snow for a couple years, the huge white flakes falling softly from the sky provided a nice touch.

The Men

These are my some of my good friends that I've gotten to know over the past two years at KSU. I'm going to miss these guys.

Motorcycle License Exam

I spent my birthday morning taking the driving skills portion of the motorcycle license exam. By some small miracle I passed, although I'm not sure how. I killed the motorcycle once, couldn't drive in a straight line, and ran over the hypothetical possum that I was supposed to swerve and miss. But I did pass, so the license is in hand, and if you see me on two wheels, I advise you pull over and proceed with caution.

Lessons from the Crab

Did it ever strike you that the best things in life take the hardest work? This crab was delicious, but it took me 45 minutes to get the same amount of meat found in a hotdog. I think relationships are the same way. It takes time and hard work to break through the hard shells we all have to get into the tender, satisfying parts of friendship. But without the difficulties, we wouldn't savor the morsels with such pleasure. I feel my relationship with God is the same way - the difficulties and struggles of life hold a certain type of pleasure in that they lead me to a keener understanding and heightened enjoyment of God and my relationship with Him.

This the the crab I ate with my good friends Fangmao, YoYo, John, and Corri.

Before....
After...

Tickets in Hand... Motorcycle Skills

Yesterday I went online and purchased plane tickets to Indonesia. I caught myself in a moment of hesitation when it came time to click my mouse button and officially buy the one-way ticket. Ideas are glamorous to the mind, but reality is often more sobering to the heart. But adrenaline-pumping exciting too. I've also been practicing my motorcycling skills. After squeaking by on the written test, I'll be attempting the driving skills test next week. Practicing at first made me hesitant and uptight, but after driving a second time I'm hooked. I love the freedom and excitement of just two wheels on the pavement and no arm-rests or door handles. From my understanding, 70% of the vehicles on the road in Indonesia are motorcycles. Who needs a truck when you can pile stuff on like this guy? Hopefully that won't be a requirement on my skills test.

Where is it now, the glory and the dream?

I'm intrigued by the life of a man I've never known and will never know. Why did Dr. Jacob B. Mitchell leave this epitaph? Why was this his enduring message to all who would ever walk by his tombstone? He lived an apparently "successful" life - rich (his tombstone is 15 feet tall), well educated, war veteren, and a fairly long life, and yet he sounds like an empty man. He chased after all the glories and dreams that the world had to offer, and yet when the end of life drew near, he was desperate for something more. In living for this world, I believe he missed out on that which is of ultimate value.

The Journey

We're all going somewhere in life. If not we're dead. This journey of life takes us many places and in the process we cross paths with many people. In this journey of life, I'm on my way to the other side of the world. But we're also on a spiritual journey. This is a journey of discovery, of ups and downs, of sprinting, walking, and standing still. I'm on this journey too - the journey of discovering God and trying to walk the straight path He has laid before me.

Cow or Bull?

When my good friend Fangmao Ye came to visit the ranch in Holton, little did he know he would learn one of life's most important lessons - how to tell a bull from a cow. After I gave him a few vague descriptions, I think he caught on. I realized how I tend to take such things for granted, just as Fangmao takes things about China for granted. As I prepare to go to Indonesia I long to have such deep curiosity about the new people, new customs, new food, new places, and new ideas I encounter.

I'm a Blogger

I never thought the day would arrive. I've fought it for years. I've never wanted to do it just because "its the cool thing to do." But I'm officially a blogger. I've taken a dive into the deep and there is no turning back now. I have a laptop, I had a cell phone (just for a while), and now I've given in and become a blogger. What's next? Sliced bread? I'll keep you posted.