A Chapter-Long Letter from the Heart

Dear Mom and Dad

This morning you were both on my mind. I was wishing you could have walked with me and spent the morning doing what I was doing. It was a life-giving day, one that made me once again appreciate the life I have been given.

Do you remember a post I wrote months ago, about the hole

in a cement wall that lead me out of Lippo Village and into village life, a life that the majority of Indonesians live? Today I went through another one, and unfortunately, like some holes, it wasn't magical in any way. I went with 5 other ladies, organized through Karawaci Ladies, and we saw poverty again. Poverty is everywhere here, yet we so often just see it from a distance. Today we touched it, smelled it, and had it splash up our legs in the form of sludge, made up of filthy river water, garbage run-off, and quite possibly human waste.

Our morning started with the 6 of us ladies meeting at my house, and we

drove 2 vehicles to a regularly-flooded slum area, under the guidance of a woman who works daily with the poor, and especially with children. Her heart is huge and her enthusiasm is rather contagious. Between this woman and our group we had 50 bags of grocery essentials to hand out. Once we got there, local ladies packed into a really small room, coupons in hand, ready to be given a bag of food that might just be the mainstay of their entire week. The bags were handed out quickly, in a very organized manner, and the 6 of us were able to tour the small

village as we helped women pack the groceries to their tiny, dark, cement/brick/wood homes. Some of us ended up in one woman's home, Ibu Emi, and she and her 17 year old daughter told us of their situation. Like most people in this area, her husband was out of work, and they have no money. Even their rent of $25/month is steep for them. Fortunately, their eldest son works at a reputable bookstore chain that has a program where he can work and attend school as well. If you look at the photo of women sitting in a circle chatting, what you see is the entire home. The kitchen area is in the background, the living room (tv) is to the left, the bedroom (wardrobe, vanity) to the right, and the bedroom is right where we were sitting. The bedrolls were leaning up against the corner behind where I was standing while I took the photo. Noises from the home next door, which was divided only from the home we were in by a wood similar to plywood, made it seem like the neighbours were in the room with us.

After our short visit with these lovely ladies, we toured the village a bit, mostly to allow me to get a few good shots of the area.

One of these is a photo of the still water that lies around the village, gathered in-between floods. Another is of a young boy fishing in

a large, very fluorescent green fish pond. I'm not sure how healthy the water is, because although it is green, it is right next to the public toilets, which are 3 cement outhouses that run into the ground.

I have been blessed throughout my life to see a variety of villages in Mexico, the Philippines, here in Indonesia, and even a few really sad ones in Canada, that range from poor to dirty poor

to illegal-squatting, garbage-collecting slums. Blessed because I have had opportunity to move outside of my comfortable bubble, and blessed because I get to go home to health, comfort, food, and safety. This particular village is actually one of the 'nicer ones' that our hostess works in, yet it is still not a nice place to live. It is right on the river, and anytime it rains, the homes get flooded. In this photo of a classroom, our hostess shows us how high the water rises. At the back of the village the water rises even higher. I'm including a photo of Amanda standing on the bridge that connects this village with one across the river. The most difficult thing to hear was that during flooding, even in times of dire need, this is the only exit from the area for the villages. The hole that we used to enter the village is unavailable to the villagers

themselves, because it exits into a rather posh neighbourhood. Take a good look at the bridge; it's not all that sturdy.

As we were walking, two ladies were washing their clothes and dishes at a communal water faucet.

The river is directly behind them.

One final thing I saw that was new to me was a small 'bakery,' where the young men of the village are employed for $2-3 per day, making pancake-like 'skins' for some snacks that are similar to eggrolls.

They make thousands of them per month, and their boss sells them in the local markets. The entire room was covered in flour, their hair was flour-coated and their skin was white with flour dust. It is fast, hard work for a few dollars a day.

I thought of you on this trip, and I could picture you sitting with the women in their home, using sign language to try and communicate when your English just won't do. I could see you shaking men's hands and hugging the women and the babies they were carrying.

You may not be here but, as I told Ibu Emi, you are here with me as you look at the photos that I take.

I love you,

Kim

Thanks for reading.

Eating our way through the adventure...

Sometimes there are times in your life when you just have to. There's not really any reason not to, and it's fun to say you have. Like tonight. There's a great new couple here at our school, Brock and Lisa, and they're into truly experiencing the local culture. Since he's arrived, he's wanted to eat at a snake restaurant. Originally I thought the guy was pretty nuts--"unique" is a good word--and then I started to think about it. Why not? People eat weird stuff all of the time, and seriously, what a great thing to be able to tell my grandkids! In fact, I have an uncle, Uncle Ken, who traveled to Indonesia in the '80s, and during his trip to Sumatera, ate snake. I remember him telling me that it tastes just 'like chicken.' I thought he was really cool. Tonight, we learned that snake really DOES taste like chicken, at least cobra does, and it specifically tastes like chicken breast. Alligator does as well, although I found it a bit sour. Monitor lizard has the texture and slight flavour of fish, monkey is a sweeter meat, and python is a bit 'chewy,' like crab. Brock was the only one who tried bat (flying rats, who eats those???). He also topped off his personal adventure with a cup of cobra blood mixed with the cobra's bile and a little chinese wine. He said it tasted a little bitter. I'll take his word for it.

In the photo of Tris and I, he is trying monitor lizard and I am trying cobra (fried). Of all the items, the cobra won the award at our table for the item we'd most likely order again. It's

rather morbid, really, because it's the cobra that we met personally before he became our dinner. It was a bit like the proverbial bunny that the farmer's daughter names and spends time with, and then one day realizes Fluffy is in her soup (or chicken cacciatore, remember Mom??).

We started our dining adventure out by picking up Brock, Lisa and their little 1 1/2 year old, Bethany, and headed for Jakarta. On the way, we got a little lost in "Old Town" (old Dutch part of Jakarta) and were able to see a little of the older landscape outside of the car when Bethany decided that throwing up on her mom was the best way to get rid of the ache in her little tummy. Once Lisa was as clean as 3 baby-wipes, a bottle of ice-cold water and a purse pack of tissues could get her, we continued on until we reached "Istana Raja Cobra (King Cobra Palace) Restaurant." It literally is a hole in the wall with about 8 small plastic tables, a kitchen smaller than most suburbian clothes closets, and a 'snake room' at the back. I have to admit, though, it was a lot brighter and cleaner than I had imagined. The restaurant, I mean, not the snake room.

Meet 'Fluffy,' our dinner-to-be. After we placed our order (bat & alligator satay, fried cobra, fried monkey, fried monitor lizard, and bbq'd python), we headed to the back to pick our cobra. All of the other items on the menu were "pre-dead" and in the freezer, but unfortunately for

this dish, he was as fresh as they come. The most interesting thing that Tris and I noticed weren't the cages along the wall holding other diners' meal choices (green snake, 'earth' snake, a variety of other snakes), but rather the moving canvas bags on the floor. In these bags, which were hissing and rising up towards our voices, were King Cobras, and even through the bags I'm sure they could smell my fear. While we were watching the bags at our feet, our attendant was prepping the snake. It all happened quite quickly as the fellow showed us our snake choice, lopped off his head, hooked the body to the wall and slid the skin off the reptile. During the skinning, the head continued to move and the tongue to hiss. Very freaky. So very 'not me.'

Once we received our meat dishes, we shared them around and took photos, commented on the taste and texture, and finally realized that during our meal, little Bethany had drawn a lovely crayon masterpiece on the nearby table's plastic yellow chair. Rather squiggley lines, like snakes. How appropriate.

I'm not sure that a return visit to this restaurant will ever happen, unless our kids want to go (they were too busy swimming and watching movies to come along this time) or we have visitors who want the same 'unique' experience, but I admit, I am glad to be able to say I DID.

Thanks for reading.

...this is a little different from the new Bread & Butter Cooking Club that was born last week...new post to come full of delicious details!

Matt Dancing the Papuan Friendship/Hunting Dance

Want to watch this dude dance? Check out:

SPH - Bulan Bahasa 2010 from Brock Haylock on Vimeo.

Going Greek with the Girls

Life is good with food, and it's even better when friends help you make that food! Today I spent the better half of my late morning into the evening cooking, and then eating, with two friends. One is Amelia, who is my World Vision 'boss', a BC-born, Ontario-bred Canadian girl. The other is Ontario born and bred Becky, Abby's homeroom teacher.

For weeks Amelia and I have been planning a Greek meal with a Mediterranean twist, and I just love it when plans become reality. Our menu consisted of pita bread, focaccia bread (not sure where that fits in but it was a delicious afterthought!), hummus, babaganoush, tzadziki, greek salad with REAL calamata olives (yum), and rosemary-marinated

chicken skewers. Amelia brought the fixings for sangria (my first time to try it) and although we're really not sure where this drink originated, today it was Mediterranean!

To finish it off we made an incredible honey-dripping, butter-soaked baklava. Not a bad menu for all the unusual items we had to find. This is when I am extra thankful for bags of nuts brought from home, whether via

visitors or our trip home this summer. There have also been a lot of great foreign foods in a few of the larger grocery stores in Jakarta, like phyllo pastry and calamata olives, things that sometimes are difficult to find.

Hands down, the baklava was our favourite of all the recipes we tried today, and I'd like to share the recipe with you. For years I was afraid of phyllo, thinking it was too difficult to work with. What I've discovered is that if you cover the sheets with a slightly damp towel when you are not working with them, the pastry stays moist and pliable. If you leave them in the air, they dry out quickly and tend to crack as you work with them.

Baklava Recipe:

Ingredients:

750 g phyllo pastry

2 cups chopped almonds/walnuts (we combined them)

500 g (2 cups) melted, unsalted butter

1/2 cup sugar

cinnamon and cloves to taste

Use a 9x13 pan. Trim the pastry to the size of the pan, and keep the leftovers for later. Using half the pastry sheets, begin by greasing pan, then laying down 2-3 sheets of pastry. Brush butter on every 2-3 sheets.

Combine the nuts, sugar and spices. Once you've used 1/2 the pastry sheets, sprinkle the nut mixture over the top. Cover the nut mixture with the leftover pastry pieces before beginning to lay down the 2nd half of the pastry. Continue to butter every 2-3 sheets until sheets are used up.

Cut into squares using a sharp knife BEFORE baking, making sure to cut through to the base.

If any butter remains, pour it over pastry, then bake at 350F approximately 1 hour or until golden brown. Immediately pour hot syrup over the top and let cool, approximately another hour.

Syrup:

2 cups water

2 cups sugar

1/2 cup honey

1 tsp lemon juice (fresh squeezed is best)

a few grates of lemon zest

cinnamon stick

Boil approximately 10 minutes.

Delicious! I hope you enjoy it as much as we did. Highly recommended with a cup of tea.

Thanks for reading.

Very Random Bunny Trails

We are a few weeks past Matt's 15th birthday and a month and a half until my baby girl turns 13. Where does the time go?? Today Abby is staying home from school, sick with a sore throat, cough and slight fever. The funny thing is, I had to practically tackle her to the ground and put her back into bed to get her to stay home from school. At one point I thought she might defy me and head to school when I wasn't looking (she was already in uniform when I discovered she's not feeling well), and my first thought was "How do I discipline for THAT?" What would I do? Go to school and report to her teachers/principal that "Abby refuses to stay home from school!" That scenario made me laugh, but fortunately she crawled back into bed and there she still lies.

I'm sitting in a corner of her peaceful, green and turquoise room (photos of new paint jobs to come) and thinking about all that's going on in the last while. What it comes down to is that we're busy and the skies are constantly bringing new, LOUD thunderstorms. That's a summary in a nutshell.

You may have heard of the various tragic natural disasters that have occurred here in Indo in the past week. There have been 2 earthquakes and consequent tsunami in some islands off of Sulawesi (wiped out 20 villages), Mount Merapi has erupted (8 hours by train from us) and is threatening to do it again, there is constant flooding in Jakarta (doesn't harm us but is devastating to many families in the slums), and there has been a drought somewhere in Indo since February. Here we sit in our little Lippo bubble and watch the news, read the papers, and it's not overseas, it's right in our own backyard. The best we can do as people untrained in disaster relief is to send money for those who know what they're doing, and to pray for those who are involved, victims or rescuers. Not a whole lot different from back home. Once and a while an opportunity comes up where a group of people volunteer to go into a community and help rebuild. We haven't participated in anything like that yet but would like to.

It truly is amazing that as the world seems to be in chaos all over, life in its beauty and simplicity still goes on. Here in Lippo we just received some very heartwarming, exciting news from a young couple that moved here in July. They've been married 9 months and have just found out that they're pregnant. With twins. They've gone from calling their baby Peanut to calling them Peanut Butter and Jelly. That's pretty cute. They do ultra sounds here extremely early, and at 5 weeks they were already able to tell that there are two fetuses. Incredible!

This news has brought me to realize that there are very few twins here in Indo. With a population of 14 million in Jakarta alone, you'd think you'd see them all over. When I begin to list my friends either with twins or who are a twin, it's pretty big for our Cdn population! Kathleen, Dale, Tara, Stephanie, Renkemas, Lois, Maura, Sarah & Bethany, Rebecca's new grandbabies coming (boys!!), the new pastor who came when we left...and those are just the ones off the top of my head, and not including the ones I grew up with in school! BTW, 5 of those listed are from the same church. I know that we don't drink the water from the tap here in Indo, and we do in Canada, so that must be the answer.

Speaking of water and earlier, rain, I just have to fill you in on the most recent weather patterns here. We have had some of the loudest, windiest rainstorms here that I've ever seen. Just the other day, Tris was at the golf course and I was sitting on our foyer floor, looking outside, when 3 bolts of lightening came down in front of me, two doors across from our house, and hit a lightening rod. With those bolts came some earth-shaking, teeth-rattling thunder, and, I must admit, a few screams from within our home. Screams of "omygoodnessdidyousee/hearthatitwasincredibleandsoscaryithitthelighteningrod!!" amongst some laughter. Our helper came into the foyer with dinner-plate sized eyes (JUST like the dahlia), and our driver ran into our kitchen, not wanting to go back outside. Needless to say, I cancelled the appointment I had been heading out the door to. As for Tris at the golf course, he heard the same and picked up his ball (without putting, even!!), grabbed his clubs, and headed for cover.

It's never boring here, and there's always a story to tell.

Thanks for reading.