First Rain

The dry season is coming to an end. The margins between the only two seasons we know here - wet and dry - are flexible and slow coming. Yesterday's light shower may not be duplicated for another week. But, eventually, the rains fall consistently at the end of each day, creeping day by day earlier until they finally drench the earth around noon for four months straight. 400 of the annual 420 inches of rainfall occur from November through March, leaving the dry months aptly named.

Yesterday, as I sat in my home reading after school, I first heard a rustle in the trees, then a growing breath in the distance, then the light percussion that preludes the symphonic sounds of heavenly rains. I rushed to the door to confirm the long-awaited sight, then skipped down the road to join the few neighbors already out to welcome the rains back home.

My friend Pak Jumanto stood with me under a palm tree. We chatted about the blessing of rain, allowing the scattered shower to wash over us as it cleansed the earth around us. The sprinkles came and went, came and went. When they finally decided to come in full, Jumanto invited me into his house where he smoked and we visited further. We laughed above the cacophony outside, and we humbly listened to this long-absent performance. We were refreshed.

A Petty Prank

In the past two weeks we've had a couple of unintentionally damaging pranks pulled at school. Pranks done to the right people with a clear motive and creative forethought can be hilarious. Unfortuneately, recently they have carried a dark undertone that hovers about campus like a storm cloud.

One of these silly jobs was spawned, I'm sure, of a spontaneous nature. A student replaced the campus Indonesian flag with the stars and stripes. When the campus guards, all of whom are Indonesian, saw the flag, they were furious and ordered the student to remove it at once. The student complied, but the deed had been done.

Another "good natured" prankster thought he would have a little fun by kidnapping a jar of American candy from the library. This wouldn't be such a bad deal except the planning had been short-sighted and no ransom note left for the librarian to find in the stead of the jar. The second problem was that the librarian isn't the stereotypically prankish type. So, the call to arms was raised immediately and feelings were hurt, causing the would-be jokesters to go into hiding for fear of reprisal. Over a week went by with no clear word from the kidnappers, leaving the injured parties to believe that the candy was stolen rather than briefly taken for a joyride. It didn't end well, even after the pranksters eventually were compelled to come forward; too much time had passed and too much speculation spread during the interval of what would have been an appropriate amount of time to hold the candy jar hostage.

A wig from the prop room disappeared. A DVD player from the music room went with it. A pair of safety glasses from the states vanished. A few DVDs walked off. And somewhere, all my escaped socks from my college days are having a frat party in a field with a bonfire. Those little buggers were always trying to run-out during the spin cycle.

Please pray that our campus will take on an air of openness and honesty. Petty theft and silly-hearted pranks can quickly turn hearts to distrust one another. All three, two causes and an effect, are undesireable. God help our hearts and relationships.

Dry and Weary

Mona and I have been very tired these last few weeks. The first quarter is nearly over, and the work has run full tilt. But the work load isn't unusual. In fact, this being our third year at Mountainview, we're running smoothely compared to the new comers.

What is different about this year is the lack of rain. Rainy season usually slowly begins in late September; however, we haven't had a drop in over a month. Even during the dry season an occasional brief shower keeps the dust down and the reservoirs full. But not this year. Everything is covered in dust and smoke. When a breeze blows through it carries a dust cloud with it, making bathing a necessity several times a day to stay fresh.

We've noticed a dryness in the teaching staff too. We have a great staff: beautiful hearts and minds, but exhaustion is hitting quickly this year. It's not crankiness or aggresiveness; rather, we see a short road to frustration. The day's heat pounds us and the winds and dust blind us. With every passing cloud comes a fleeting hope for rain.

A Work Beginning

Last night I walked out of my house at around 6:30. Outside, the day’s heat had cooled, but a remnant remained indoors. So, I turned on the fans, opened the windows, and went for a walk.

The mosques had blared their “Ramadahn-fasting-is-officially-over” siren an hour earlier leaving the now heavily fed men to rest and digest on their porches with a cigarette and a cool breeze. As I strolled along, each man on a passing porch greeted me and invited me to sit with him. So, I sat for a few minutes at three or four houses chatting the evening away. No heavy topics; just visiting.

After half an hour, my friend Samiyono – a Javanese man in his 50s – drove up on his 110cc motor scooter. “Stop by my house before you head home, ya.”

“Sure,” I said, knowing that I couldn’t refuse another friendly drink and snack.

Two weeks earlier I ask my Indonesian co-worker Pak Nosh how to go about helping my neighbors with financial needs without putting myself in a precarious position. I have heard several stories of well-intentioned foreigners who have become little more than an ATM. Nosh said that I should ask a trusted friend in the community to inform me of individual needs as they arise, then have the school facilities crew purchase the needed supplies (concrete, bricks, etc.) and deliver them anonymously. That way I can help directly without having any of the cultural awkwardness.

When I entered Pak Samiyono’s front room, I broached the situation. I explained our intent to help our neighbors saying that we are “shy,” and thus don’t want them to know that it’s us. He was very pleased with this arrangement, and immediately told me of a need that has been stagnant for over a month.

Our conversation eventually turned toward the earthquake that happened in late May. The homes of Samiyono’s parents and three siblings all collapsed to the ground save one. They are all living in the one partially damaged house while they try to rebuild over time. If I understood Samiyono correctly, that’s more than 12 people – 3 generations – living in one small house. And even that house’s roof is collapsed, but at least it has walls.

Samiyono said that he understands that our desire is to help our primary neighbors first, but if we are interested in helping his extended family, he’d be most grateful. So, I’m borrowing a friend’s car and we are going to Klaten next week to visit his family and see what immediate repairs can be made to better their situation. This will be my third visit to the region hit hardest by the earthquake, and it may be the most impactual thus far.

Please pray for our endeavors as we begin helping our neighbors in a hands-on, personal way. There are risks involved that I don’t fully understand yet. Wisdom and insight are much needed.