Happy Birthday Tris! Forty three years ago yesterday my soul mate was born, and for that I am truly thankful.
When Dale was here we visited Jogja, and while there I bought a batik tapestry (some might call it a batik tea towel..) of a map of Indonesia and its many islands. I had it stretched onto a frame and went to pick it up while Candace was visiting. It wasn't ready yet (3 months later) and so I tried again today. Six months later, I now have a map of Indonesia on the wall, or rather, on the floor leaning against the wall, waiting to be hung. Talk about rubber time. Hopefully it'll be hanging ON the wall by the time Rebecca gets here in February.
In the late afternoon I discovered I had 'beans in my pants,' which is an accidental combination of ants in my pants and beans in my belly. Not sure where it came from but when I asked my neighbour Rebecca if she'd like to come out and play she suggested we ride bikes around the neighbourhood, it was exactly what I was looking for. Instead of riding within the Lippo Village limits, we dragged our bikes through a hole in a cement wall and rode them along a cement path through rice paddies and corn fields. I felt like I was in a movie: she was riding a girlie bike complete with a wire basket on the front, and for a bit I had a scarf around my neck which had the potential to flow delicately in the wind as I gently rode the cement path. Realistically, once I rode around for a bit, the scarf felt like a woolen winter scarf wound around my neck, causing my face to turn a lovely shade of red even before we started. It looked good in the a/c of my vehicle an hour earlier, however. As an aside, the other day Sunny, Abby and I took ojeks (we were passengers on motorbikes) to a salon for a cream bath. I wore one of my new translucent brown, green and gold scarves, and it flowed in the wind while I rode on the back of the motorbike. I've decided it was such a cool look that next time I'm going to wear my sunglasses and bright red lipstick. I might even tie the scarf around my hair so as not to mess up my coiffe.
The bike ride was beautiful. The only way I could describe how I felt was that it was truly a bike ride on the Island of Java, not just a bike ride outside of Lippo. We meandered through green corn fields, high grasses (but didn't get too close because thats where snakes like to hang out), under palm trees, beside ramshackled huts that were made of bamboo, grass mats and blocks of salvaged styrofoam, next to newly turned red clay dirt mounds (often mixed with a variety of garbage), prepared for planting. Swallows were flitting about, diving across our path, doves were cooing in the distance, and roosters were strutting their stuff for the ladies nearby. Sounds rather romantic and lovely, and visually it was. The people we met along the way were quite friendly, giving us a ready smile, especially when we greeted them in Indonesian. The reality of it all is still there, such as the poverty as seen in the rusted, metal seated pedal bikes with ratty wicker baskets secured to its sides, the scrawny, sickly kittens mewing at the roadside, the workers coming home on rickety bikes, wearing threadbare clothing. The reality is that the land we live in is rich in beauty, but the people nearby live hand in hand with poverty. It's the same people who get up each morning, walk or ride their bikes to work in our village, and see how we live in abundance. I wonder what their perspective is as they walk through the fields, climb through the hole in the cement wall, and enter the bubble that is Lippo?
1 comment:
I enjoyed the ride with you Kim. Thanks so much. I love you. Mom.
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