Earthquake

As you may know, a 6.2 magnitude earthquake hit java on Saturday morning. Many of us were awakened to the tremor here in Salatiga. I (Mona) slept through it. We had only minor damage in Salatiga; our neighbor's septic tank was broken.

Jogja got the brunt of the damage. Although I haven't seen for myself, the reports that we are hearing are that the Sultan's Palace and everthing south to the beach are completely destroyed. This would include the hotel we were planning to stay in next weekend.

Our friends went to one of the villages that was hit yesterday. This particular village lost only two people. Many of the homes were destroyed, but did not fall. Now, because they are unsafe to live in, they must be torn down. This will be a long process of rebuilding. (Most of the homes here are made with concrete.)

Most of our Sunday meeting was spent praying and discussing what our role as a fellowship should be. It is evident that once the news crews and emergency responders leave, there will be many needs that we as a body are equipped to fill. Please pray for God's leading in this area. Pray also that He will move in this time and this place.

To Flee or Not to Flee

Today's headline at Yahoo! reads the following:

Thousands Flee Dangerous Indonesia Volcano
By CHRIS BRUMMITT, Associated Press Writer
40 minutes ago

MOUNT MERAPI, Indonesia - Thousands of people fled the fertile slopes of Indonesia's most dangerous volcano Saturday as glowing lava oozed down the side and ash and rock spewed from the mountaintop, leading authorities to warn that an eruption could come soon.

Note the voice used to sensationalize the news here: "people fled" and "most dangerous volcano". This, of course, occurs all the time to gain readers, as news is big business. But, this particular story is of personal interest due to our proximity to the "rock spewing mountaintop".

Sid, our assistant superintendent, went to Ketep Pass between Mount Merbabu and Mount Merapi to take photos last night. The crowds of spectators were so thick that he continued another twenty kilometers to Selo, slightly closer to the "dangerous" crater. Sid did see some lava. But, as he was showing me the photos, I could make out no more than a spec of red on the screen of his professional grade digital camera. Surprised, I asked why he didn't get any better shots. "What you see here is all there was," he laughingly replied.

The smoke you can see at Yahoo! is more than usual, but Merapi constantly bellows fumes. Google Earth, another modern technological marvel, always shows Merapi smoking. In other words, yes, it's errupting; but, no, it's not that sensational.

To regress to the title, the Indonesian version of fleeing is like golfers leaving the eighteenth hole, headed for a drink at the club house. It's more of a saunter or a meandering. To say that they "fled there homes" is about as accurate as saying that the Triumphant Entry centered around Jesus racing into Jerusalam on a steed to get good seats at the synagogue. No one flees here. Many locals think that they, or their elders, will know when the volcano is ready to release its digested rock, and that all this hype is only keeping them from tending their flocks and farms. Of course, most of them have no access to Internet, nor can they read English. Although, I bet that if they could, they'd wonder which village had inspired this article. Then they'd all sit under Merapi for morning jamu (health drinks) and gossip about their neighbor's folly before cutting more grass for their livestock.

The Change of Seasons

The Indonesian Department of Education just gave our school notice that all staff over the age of 60 have one year to prepare for transition. The government is revoking all work visas for those over 60 or under 24. For some of our teachers, this means transitioning from a decade or more of service into God knows what. Some of these teachers think they're return to the states; some to other countries for additional service; some are simply along for the ride and expect that God will show them what's next as they disembark from the plane. None of them that I've talked to are nervous. In fact, quite the opposite. One of our newest 70-something staff, Kit, got this gleeful, almost mischievous grin on her face like she was concealing a flask under her shawl before discussing her lack of anxiety or concern for the future. "You get kicked out of one country only to work toward exile from another."

I've also been thinking about change. We're planning on being at Mountainview for another two years after this one, but from time to time people ask what we're doing in Indonesia; as though they really wanted to ask, "What possessed you to move 13,000 miles from home? Are you crazy?!"

I borrowed a friend's copy of Don Miller's Through Painted Deserts. In this re-publication since he became famous in Christian circles for Blue Like Jazz and Searching For God Knows What, the author's note says the following:

I remember the sweet sensation of leaving, years ago...leaving Texas for who knows where. I could not have known about this beautiful place, the Oregon I have come to love...And I could not have known then that if I had been born here, I would have left here, gone someplace south to deal with horses, to get on some open land where you can see tomorrow's storm brewing over a high desert. I could not have known then that every body, every person, has to leave, has to change like seasons; they have to or they die. The seasons remind me that I must keep changing, and I want to change because it is God's way...Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons.

I reckon this is also about the most honest thing I could say to my interrogators: I had to leave so I could come back and love it again for all new reasons.

We don't know where our graduating seniors will end up in a few years: college, jobs, families. We don't know where our retiring seniors will end up next year. We don't even know for certain where we will be tomorrow. But does that really matter? No, I reckon it doesn't. I just know that I am willing to follow Jesus wherever he leads, and in so doing to be transformed, changed, made new. And then, when I return to some place I had been before, to see it, and them, and to love them again for all new reasons.

Ring of Fire Resurrected

Mount Merapi has been under close observation for the last several months due to tremors. Over the past three days (April 30 - May 2) the pinnacle has grown an additional 10 meters; that's 33 feet. This sudden spurt is considered a warning of an imminent eruption. Yet, many local farmers are still reluctant to evacuate the area.

This morning, as Mona and I were walking to school, Mount Merbabu was clearer than it has been for the past week. Clouds usually obscure its facade. Mount Merapi, too, is clear this morning. One can see it peaking out from behind Merbabu from the town center on Jalan Jendral Sudirman. Its proud throne emits a constant stream of sulfuric smoke year round, but even more so now. We hope to take a drive this weekend to look out across the deep valley separating Merbabu and Merapi and witness this growing monster first hand.

The danger to us in Salatiga is minimal. In the 1990s, when Merapi last erupted anything more than a trickle, Salatiga received nothing more than some residual ash. In our defense, Mount Merbabu stands stolidly like a giant sentry, protecting the simple farmers and rural villagers of Salatiga.

Visit www.indahnesia.com for current information and photos.