Mae Govannen...

Where are they going?

2011-04-21T15:50:00.003+07:00

I was checking out the video below when my 4-year-old son got curious and climbed on my lap to watch it with me.

(go ahead, watch the video first, and it's worth viewing 'full screen' on your monitor)

We both were transfixed by this breathtakingly beautiful video of time-lapsed sky over the frozen plains of South Dakota.

I was explaining to my son, "Look at those stars as they move across the sky!"

"Kemana? (Where?)" he asked.

I was struck speechless by the innocence and also by the serendipitous poetry of that question.

"Where are the stars going?"

Now I know, and so do you, the 'scientific' explanation in response to his query. But ... that's not the point.

In school both of my children will eventually learn about the physical laws that govern the solar system and the universe. As their mother I also hope to share my own life-long fascination with science and space. One of my earliest memories is that of being immersed in the darkness while the stars whirled above me in the planetarium. As a young girl I wanted to become an astronomer and work for NASA. And, of course, I love Star Trek, and if I were a Starfleet science officer, I would have loved to be assigned to Stellar Cartography aboard the USS Enterprise-D!

But it is my hope that even when my two sons have learned the physics behind the movement of celestial bodies, the 'exactness' of science (a thing of beauty in itself) will never take away the equally critical sense of child-like wonder. It's the same imagination that drove the ancient civilizations to see animals and mythical heroes, monsters, gods and goddesses etched in the clusters of stars. That all 'learning' won't detract them from the eternal poetry of God's creation, imprinted in the human soul.

I'd like to leave you with this clip below. It's the jaw-dropping opening scene from one of my most favorite movies: "Contact" (1997). So, again, click the 'full screen' button, sit back and let your imagination take flight!

Our Wedding Tale

2010-02-17T13:47:00.011+07:00

We recently celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary. Exactly on our fifth one, my husband and I and our two little boys boarded the flight that would take us from southern California to our new life in Jakarta.

In the little over two years that we've lived in Indonesia, we had attended several weddings here. Up to my return to Jakarta, I was more familiar with the smaller, more intimate American-style weddings, where guests number just a few hundreds at the most. The biggest wedding I'd ever attended in all my 22+ years in Los Angeles had 500 guests. It was huge for American standards, but puny compared to the massive wedding receptions in Jakarta that typically have several thousand guests, all crowded in humongous hotel ballrooms or function halls. I'd heard of these massive (there's that word again) weddings from Indonesian friends when I was in the U.S., and although I couldn't really imagine it back then, I remember feeling somewhat horrified at the thought.

Now every time I go to one of these enormous (I'm mining the thesaurus for synonyms for 'huge', can you tell?) weddings here, nice and ultra-posh as they are, I can't help but be extremely and eternally grateful that we had our wedding in the United States! As our seventh anniversary was approaching in January, I was struck by this singular moment from our wedding: that as I walked down the aisle toward my Groom and later at the end of the ceremony as we turned around to face the congregation as husband and wife, as I scanned the hundreds of faces packed in the church, I was happy to realize that I KNEW EACH ONE OF THEM PERSONALLY.

How many brides and grooms in the colossal weddings here could say the same thing?

Between my husband and me, we both knew each guest directly (or to borrow another term: just by "one degree of separation"). Neither of us was left wondering: "Who's that?" or "Who invited him/her and their clients/associates/uncles/aunts/cousins/nannies?"

Now I'm not going into the differences between American and Indonesian cultures when it comes to weddings; how different are the expectations, standards and pressures that come from parents, relatives, traditions and society as factors in the definition and execution of a 'wedding'. (Although I could... oh boy, could I go into ~~all~~ some of the ridiculous traditions, peer pressure, 'pride' factor, etc. ... What? Oh... yes, I'll stop now. To each their own... to each their own.)

Another indelible impression that I got from our nuptial was the overwhelming sense of PURE JOY. Not just our own private bliss because we were getting married to each other, but the joy radiated from our friends and families who came that day. It was so thick, so palpable. I still get all tingly and warm inside every time I remember their outpouring of joy.

I remember standing in the foyer of the church as we began the ceremony and listening through the doors as the church suddenly erupted in wild cheers as my Groom entered the Sanctuary. They also cheered for our Pastor, our Groomsmen and our Maids of Honor. Now I'd been to dozens of wedding ceremonies where the mood was solemn and hushed (it ain't a memorial, people!), but this ... this was the opposite end of the spectrum. As I wrote above, the joy was palpable in that sanctuary, and the noise could be heard outside the walls!

Then, finally, it was my turn. The double doors opened again and I entered and walked down the aisle in the arms of my brother. I wasn't just listening through the doors anymore, I was right in the thick of it: people on both sides of the aisles loudly cheering and clapping (not just 'polite' clapping, mind you, but all out shouting, hootin' and hollerin'!).

(Or maybe they were just cheering because finally! we thought it would never happen: "Tessa is getting married"? Yes, I was over 30 when I walked down the aisle. No, I never regretted not marrying sooner.)

And the worship session... oh, how we sang and worshipped our hearts out. Even though our backs were to the congregation, we could hear the whole church wholeheartedly worshipped with us. Our dear friends and fellow Music Ministers from our churches in Claremont, San Bernardino and the Youth played their instruments and sang their all (I think we had the most complete band ever in the history of weddings in our church).

"You are forever in my life, You've seen me through the seasons... And I sing to You, Lord, a hymn of love for Your faithfulness to me. I'm carried in everlasting arms, You never let me go through it all" *

Those lines perfectly captured all the gratefulness we felt ... The worship session wasn't just a cursory item on our Wedding Program. The presence of God was so strong that even our Pastor said to the congregation afterwards that it was the strongest he ever felt out of all the numerous weddings he had officiated. Even if everything else in our wedding fell apart (although it didn't!), we knew we wanted God's presence there more than anything else.

Then another unforgettable moment came as our Pastor said to my newly minted husband, "You may now kiss the Bride". And boy... kiss me he did! It wasn't the typical quick, shy peck on the lips... No siree! Bern took my face in both hands, pulled me closer and planted a big one on me as seconds ticked by... tick... tock... tick... tock... Oh, how the church exploded again (and not for the last time) in cheers, hootin' and hollerin' as my husband took his sweet, sweet time kissing me (not that I mind... oh, not at all! And the cheers were more raucous this time... yes, I just wrote 'raucous' in the context of a church. You read that right). We didn't plan for the 'Kiss'. We planned the vows and gazillion other wedding details, but we never planned how he would kiss me (what's to plan? But I guess Bern did plan it all along). He surprised me (and our 300+ guests) with that one.

It was a wedding kiss for the record books (well, at least as it pertains to our local church there). In the reception many guys came up to my new husband, complimenting and slapping him on the back for that one. Mantap, bro'!

When we attended other wedding ceremonies since then, as the groom kissed his bride, Bern would nudge me and whisper, "See? No one's beaten my record yet". Yes, honey. I was there.

One of the most precious (and also unplanned) moments happened during the Benediction when our Pastor called other Pastors who were there as guests to join him at the altar. We were so touched as seven Pastors from different churches (they are our friends and mentors) stood side by side at the altar, laid hands upon us and one-by-one blessed us with prayers. We didn't know our Pastor was going to do that, but we are so thankful he did. We were soaked in prayers!

My husband and I walked down aisle in each other's arms to a cheerful Celtic instrumental tune (did I mention we used all Celtic songs for our wedding ceremony? Except for the praise & worship songs, of course. Neither of us have a drop of Irish blood, but we loved the lilting and soulful-yet-uplifting Celtic arrangements of familiar hymns).

Both of us were joyful and happy beyond imagination. We were grateful to the Lord, to our families, and our friends at church who did everything (and I mean everything: decorating, singing, playing music, cooking, cleaning, etc.) to give us a wedding beyond our dreams. You see, our budget for the wedding wasn't big at all. We only had our own savings to rely on, we decided from the beginning that we didn't want to burden our parents. So we planned the simplest wedding that our budget allowed. But when our church leaders and friends heard that, they took it upon themselves to bless us. Oh, how they blessed us!

Some did the flowers and decorations. Others planned the menu, then cooked and plated the beautiful and delicious array of hors d'oeuvres for the reception. Some took pictures and videos. We just reimbursed the cost of the materials to them. That's all they were willing to accept from us. And don't think for a moment that results were amateurish. They were professional and exceptional!

It boggles the mind sometimes to know the budget for weddings in Jakarta. Hundreds of millions of rupiah (tens of thousands of U.S. dollars) for flowers and decoration that would end up in the dumpsters a few hours after the wedding. Then a larger amount for the venue and catering. Then figure in the photographer, video crew and a battalion of others vendors hired to ensure a 'successful' wedding.

I guess that's what 'floats the boat' here.

But for me, all it does is made me very grateful for the wedding we had seven years ago. I wouldn't have it any other way. The memories and significance I take from that day cannot be measured in dollars or rupiah or the number of guests.

Every married couple has their own story to tell of their journey to the altar (not to mention the more important journey after you left the altar!). I hope that if you are married, by reading this you'll reflect back on your own wedding memories.

If you are single or engaged, then take the opportunity to think of what would be the most important things you'd want to have on your wedding day. Or rather: what memories from your wedding would you rather remember and treasure in five, ten, and thirty years into your marriage? You'd be surprised that the 'material' aspects would fade away quickly. Trust me.

Although we now live on the other side of the globe from the friends who were involved in our wedding, they will always be an integral part of the most important day of our lives.

I'm so thankful that our wedding memories were not (and could not be) bought by money. Our friends and families made us feel like the wealthiest couple by their outpouring of love and care. Time and distance only serve to increase our lasting appreciation.

*Through It All by Hillsong Australia (from their 2002 album "Blessed")

Hi, there!

2009-11-06T09:04:00.002+07:00

In case you're wondering why it's been over four months since my last post on this blog, part of the answer is that I've been 'micro' blogging (or whatever term you want to call it) on Twitter. Then there's Facebook. I've also written several posts over this time period on my food blog: Cucumber Pandan.

So if you've been following me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that I've been alive and well (and writing) ... and like the rest of the world, my life did go on after the event I wrote on my previous blog post (ehm...).

And I have no intention of abandoning this blog, so keep checking back periodically!

Thank you, Michael, for singing me through...

2009-06-26T16:44:00.036+07:00

Dick Clark once said that 'music is the soundtrack of our life'. Then if I rewind the clock back to the 1980s, the video montage of me as a chubby, nerdy (some things never change) adolescent girl will be accompanied mostly by songs performed by one artist alone: Michael Jackson.

I was probably in 5^th or 6^th grade when I first saw Michael in his Beat It video (watched it on Betamax video tape. MTV was still non-existent in Indonesia back then and YouTube was a few decades into the future!). Then the Thriller short movie (or a very long music video, depending on how you look at it) came out. Oh my! I must've had worn out the tapes on those videos because I played them so many times! I couldn't get enough of this cute guy with an amazing voice, catchy songs and awesome dance moves. His music videos were like no other at the time, he made gangbangers and zombies danced with cool, crisp choreography... and he'd outdanced them all! (oh yeah, I studied and learned those moves, even the moonwalk ... and admit it, you did, too!).

Michael Jackson had completely captured this tween girl's heart. This was the first time I would seek music based on my own preference - I was just coming into my early teen years, so time for some independence, eh? My parents could hold on to their LPs of ABBA, Elvis and Boney M.

So I scoured music stores for his songs (those were the analog days before CDs, MP3s, iTunes - when you actually had to go to a store to buy music) and my cassette tape collection of Michael Jackson's music grew and grew: I started with Thriller, then every album all the way back to his Jackson 5 days. I loved them all. Hours flew by as I listened mesmerized and memorized the lyrics, even when I didn't fully grasp English back then.

Still, even with the language barrier, his ballads slayed me. Nobody could emote a ballad like Michael did. Nobody. His voice completely embodied the soul of the song. Even as a young boy in Jackson 5, he belted out soulful tunes like "I'll Be There" and "Who's Loving You" in his uncracked voice, possessing a maturity and polish way beyond his years. Any singer could do songs of romance or heartbreak, but who else beside Michael could also convincingly perform heartfelt odes to a pet rat (Ben) and a stranded alien who wanted to 'phone home' (Someone in the Dark)? He made those songs work. Beautifully.

Although I sought out as much information as I could about him, I wouldn't know what a global phenomenon Michael was until much later. Do remember, that back in pre-Internet 1980s, news, information and pop trends traveled at a much slower pace around the globe. But with whatever was available back then (cassette tapes, Betamax videos and a few magazine articles), I was already smitten with the Gloved One. Even when I found out that he was a mega-superstar and Thriller would be the #1 best selling album of all time (that record still stands), he was still my Michael.

His songs were so fiercely personal to me because they buoyed me through my teen years: the years when I was trying to navigate a rapidly crumbling foundation that was my family life. Cracks in my parents' marriage were already showing in those days in the early 1980s. Ultimately it would end up in an acrimonious divorce in 1985. The memories I have of those years are the sharp contrasts between the bitter awfulness of a broken home and the transcendent moments of joy that Michael's songs gave me. I didn't understand it back then, and I don't think I understand it fully even now, but he gave me a way to escape.

Also, that year of the divorce our mom took all three kids to the United States, further altering our world. On one hand, us kids were somewhat excited to move to America (oh, the youthfulness of our innocence...). But on the other, it was yet another difficult transition to go through. Through it all, when everything in my world was shaken and turned upside down and nothing was familiar, Michael kept singing to me. His songs that I knew by heart were among the few things I was able to carry from my 'old' life in Jakarta to this new one in Los Angeles (I had just turned 14).

They were the soundtrack of my life throughout those tumultuous years.

Now I'm back living in Jakarta. When I woke up to the news of Michael's untimely death just on the brink of his much anticipated global comeback tour, I was hoping against hope that it was an internet hoax. The wind was sucked out of me when I realized he was truly, forever gone. I was surprised at the emotions that flooded me, surprised at my own tears, even though roughly a quarter of a century has passed since that phase of my life. When I checked with my brother, he was going through the same thing.

We wept like so many of Michael's stunned and grief-stricken fans around the world. We mourned the loss of someone who wasn't even a personal friend or a family member, but in many ways, he had touched us much deeper than any other human beings ever will.

It is a testament both to the power of music and also to Michael Jackson's incomparable artistry.

There will be no other like you, Michael. Thank you for singing me through that season of my life.

"When someone in the dark reaches out to you
And touches off a spark that comes shining through
It tells you never be afraid
Then somewhere in your heart you can feel the glow
A light to keep you warm when the night winds blow
Look for the rainbow in the sky
I believe you and I could never really say goodbye
Wherever you may be...
I'll look up and see
Someone in the dark for me..."

[To my readers: even though this was a 'bittersweet' piece for me, I'd like to leave you on a happy note. The video below is from one of my favorite songs by The Jacksons (thank you, YouTube!). It harks back to 1978. Just try not to grin from ear-to-ear or move your body when you watch Michael, along with his brothers Tito, Randy, Jackie and Jermaine, as they blissfully boogie down in their disco-garbed, Afro-topped glory!]

Photo of MJ above from RollingStone.com, additional design by me.

Of Bibliophiles and Bookworms

2009-05-05T09:55:00.014+07:00

Butterfly in the sky, I can go twice as high
Take a look, it's in a book
Reading Rainbow...
I can go anywhere!
Friends to know and ways to grow
Reading Rainbow...
I can be anything!
Take a look, it's in a book
Reading Rainbow...

Those are the lyrics from the theme song of "Reading Rainbow", a long running American program for children designed to encourage them to read. I watched that show almost everyday in the mid-to-late eighties. I was already in high school then, way older than the program's intended demographic of 4-8 year olds, but those were my first few years of living in the United States and the show (hosted by LeVar Burton, that's 'Geordi La Forge' for you Star Trek fans!) became one of my favorite ways to absorb and learn English.

I could put a more contemplative, erudite or witty quote from a famous author about the importance of books and reading, but I found that that simple song and the accompanying visuals of the show's opening sequence so perfectly captured the essence of why I have been a bibliophile (a book lover) and a bookworm (an avid reader) for as long as I could remember.

I remember going to a book fair at Jakarta Convention Center when I was in elementary school. Just a kid, I jostled my way through the crowd of big people to get to the shelves holding my favorite detective series by Enid Blyton (anybody remember reading Lima Sekawan/Famous Five and Sapta Siaga/Secret Seven?), Nancy Drew and Agatha Christie. My parents told stories of how if my nose was buried in a book, they had to call my name repeatedly to get my attention before I would hear them (hey, I was totally engrossed in the story, what can I say?).

When we moved to America I found my 'bookworm heaven': the public libraries! During my high school years, my most favorite summer vacation activity was to indulge in reading stacks upon stacks of books and magazines that I checked out from La Mirada Public Library ... all for free! (oh, how I really miss public libraries...). Almost three whole months devoted to blissful reading, uninterrupted by homeworks!

When I was still single, I'd spend most of my free time in bookstores, usually hunkered down at the in-store cafe, a pile of books and a cup of coffee keeping me company (by the way, have you noticed this blog's header up there? I chose that image for a reason...).

As we were preparing to move from California to Jakarta, I insisted on shipping almost all of my book collection also (to my husband's chagrin, because books are heavy for their size and the shipping company charged by dimension and weight!). I'm still dreaming of having a personal library one day with an armchair in the corner. That'll be my haven.

Even until now reading is still my #1 hobby, but nowadays I do most of it through the computer/Internet. Although I like the Internet because it provides me with a mind-boggling breadth of reading materials that could not be found in a brick-and-mortar library, the bibliophile side of me still misses sitting down with a good book (not much opportunity to do that now).

Reading a book is visceral. Your hands cradle it, feel its weight; your fingers trace the paper, flip the pages, maybe dog-ear the corner; your nose may even pick up the 'new' scent of a book with crisp pages, or a musty one from leafing through sheets yellow with age; and your eyes trace the words on the matte surface of paper, not from a flickering, glowing computer monitor. A properly cared book keeps for decades or longer, it doesn't need an upgrade every few years.

I'm all for technology, trust me. Those of you who know me know that I'm no Luddite. But I just hope that even with the burgeoning number of e-books and the gadgets to read them (Amazon's Kindle looks amazing!), real books will still thrive for a long, long time!

So are you a bibliophile, a bookworm, or both?

Above: My first-ever set of J.R.R. Tolkien's books
(these are the three "Lord of the Rings" books).
I had fallen in love with Middle-earth long before the movies came out.
These books had accompanied me for more than two decades
and moved with me halfway around the world.
Below: my humble, yet prized, collection of Tolkien paperbacks
with dog-eared yellowing pages and cracked spines from age and use.
The super thick book at the bottom is the newer
"70^th Anniversary Edition of Lord of The Rings":
all three books in a single volume.

Love so Amazing, so Divine...

2009-04-09T14:59:00.001+07:00

I love contemporary Christian worship songs. I listen to them, I sing along with them at church and at home, I 'make music' with them and I used them when I was leading worship.

But on a few occasions, only hymns that have stood the test of time could properly express the depth and significance of a particular facet of God's glory.

One such hymn has had a grip on my heart ever since I heard it several years ago. "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" dates back from 1707 and it was written by Isaac Watts. Most of you probably recognize it from a contemporary rendition by Matt Redmand and Chris Tomlin (although personally I prefer the more poignant version sung by Selah).

I invite you to read the lyrics below. Read it slowly, for there's eternal beauty in the sheer poetry and eloquence of the words. Maybe the centuries-old English syntax sounds awkward to you, but read it anyway, it'll make sense. Let the images evoked by the unflinching lyrics sear your heart and soul.

I still get goosebumps no matter how many times I listen to it or sing it slowly. This song unfailingly would 'lead me to the Cross where we first met', a sentiment penned by a modern psalmist named Martin Smith.

Yes, we're approaching Easter/Passover as I write this. And what better song can remind us of the greatest act of love anyone has ever done for you, for me? (and it just drives the point of how the 'bunny' is so ridiculously irrelevant to Easter...)

"But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8).

WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o’er His body on the tree;
Then I am dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Oh, by the way ... here's a thought: how many of today's contemporary Christian 'hits' will still be sung 300 years from now?

For the thrill of soaring...

2009-04-04T13:07:00.012+07:00

When I'm asked if there's one song that could serve as my life's 'song' (or at least the one that defines a season in my life), my answer would be "For Such a Time as This".

It's been ten years since I first listened to this tune out of Crystal Lewis' "Gold" album and it has stayed with me ever since. As far as I know this song is quite obscure to the public, since it never received a lot of radio play. I don't think Crystal ever made a music video of it either.

But there's something in the lyrics, for they speak to me like no other song has. The lyrics' beautifully evocative imagery are powerful and moving, but beyond that, they have challenged me, chided me, encouraged me and given me hope.

You see, by nature I'm not a risk taker, and when I do take one, you better believe I have researched, calculated and weighed every options. I want to minimize, if not eliminate, the unknowns. If I take a leap, there better be an enormous safety net waiting to receive me!

But life (a fulfilling one) doesn't always work that way, and running toward the vision and destiny God has put in my heart means I have to put my faith in the Lord more than in my own calculated sense of security. As for that 'safety net'? He means for us to "mount up with wings like eagles" (Isaiah 40:31) and soar instead!

FOR SUCH A TIME AS THIS
Written by Anne Barbour

verse 1:
I built my house here, along side this mountain
This rugged mountain that stands so tall
I've had a good life above the lowlands
It's more than I'd asked for, but less than I dreamed
I've often heard a voice call down to me,
"If you'd climb higher you'd find wond'rous things to see
But the way is steep and a storm may come... "

chorus:
For such a time as this
Isn't it much to great a risk?
I've never flown from the edge of a cliff
Never walked on the water
But if I turned away
How would I know what I have missed?
Have I waited all of my life
For such a time as this

verse 2:
I've been content to not ask those questions
That stir the rivers and move the waves
The windless waters are so much more peaceful
They calm my spirit in silent song
I've often wondered what's eluding me
The yearning meant to free me from complacency
But the way is steep and a storm my come...

bridge:
Sometimes the thrill of soaring
Has to begin with the fear of falling...

So, where are you now for such a time as this?

Let's clean up our act (literally)

2009-03-16T10:54:00.002+07:00

When I first arrived in Jakarta over a year ago, one of the things that shocked me most was how filthy the city was. Garbage was strewn along the streets and it was clogging the rivers, canals and gutters. It was an immediate, inescapable visual assault ... not to mention the health hazards and a major contributing factor to flooding!

About a month later, I began to understand the reasons for Jakarta's trash-littered predicament, beginning with an unforgettable encounter at Mangga Dua. It was my first time shopping there and as I was walking along the narrow and crowded aisles, a lady crossing my path casually threw the plastic wrapper of her snack down on the floor. It landed near my feet. She just continued walking like nothing happened.

I was so flabbergasted I didn't know how to react. I was furious, too, but yelling at her in English wouldn't do anyone any good, right? I could not (and still can not) believe how thoughtless and inconsiderate that act was. "What is wrong with her?" I fumed, "couldn't she find the nearest trash can?"

But sadly, as I keep finding out, this lady's behavior is far from unique.

Over and over again I witnessed people treating the streets and other public places as a giant trash can. Pop a gum? Drop the wrapper to the floor or sidewalk (or straight into the gutter). Done cleaning the hand or nose with that tissue? Just let it go. Took that last drag from a cigarette? Just flick the butt away, who cares where it lands? Got that receipt from the toll/parking booth attendant? Just crumple it and toss it out of the car window. Huh? Is the wind going to carry into to the waste basket?

Would you commit such a careless act in your own house? Or while visiting a friend's home? (I'm sure you won't be invited back...)

And what's more heartbreaking is that I've seen this thoughtless littering being done by many people who should know better.

So here's my plea to all of us: let us be a positive influence to others around us on this issue of putting trash where it belongs. Be an example at school, in the office, on the streets and even when hanging out with friends at restaurants and the malls. Yes, even in Mangga Dua. In most instances all we can do is do the right thing, but if the moment is right or you're in the position to do so, you can also say something to the litterbug. If you are a parent, teach your kids.

An army of one million streetsweepers will not solve Jakarta's trash problem. A fleet of luxurious malls with a higher concentration of top designer stores than Beverly Hills cannot hide the third-world scene outside their marble-lined lobbies.

I'm not an enviromental activist. I'm just writing down what's been bugging me. I know Jakarta has much bigger problems, but we can at least contribute a solution to this one thing. It doesn't have to take a marketing campaign, a government edict or even a requirement to switch to a 'greener' product.

Just put trash into the trash can.

If my two-year old son can do it, then no one is too young, or too old, to learn.

Describe it!

2009-02-23T13:32:00.010+07:00

The teacher announced to our tenth-grade English class that the assignment was to write a one-page descriptive essay. I had only been in the United States for almost two years at that time and this was the first 'real' English class I had enrolled in (as opposed to English-as-Second-Language courses that I took prior to my sophomore year).

So I went home and wrote a full page of descriptive essay (or so I thought). I picked a subject I knew best: Indonesia (and who else in my class would write about Indonesia? It pays to be unique, right?) and boy, I sure packed in a lot of 'descriptions'. The following day the teacher picked a few of the best essays and read them aloud to the class. Mine wasn't among them. I didn't think much of it until she called me in private and told me that what I wrote was not a descriptive essay. The page I had turned in was technically full of information (ie. "Indonesia consists of an archipelago of 17,000 islands", "The founding fathers declared independence in August 17, 1945", etc.), but it read like an entry from the encyclopedia! It was detailed, but not emotive... informative, but not evocative.

In short, it didn't spark the imagination.

My matronly English teacher patiently explained (again) what the exercise was all about. She knew I was a relatively newcomer to the country (and to the English language), so she was more forgiving and gave me another chance at the assignment.

I still picked Indonesia as my subject the second time around, but I narrowed it down to Bali and what I remembered from a vacation there years before when I was only in the first grade. Narrower still, I wrote from vivid memories of Sanur beach at sunset... of finding translucent jelly fish in the crystal clear water along the shoreline, of soaring bird-shaped kites silhouetted against the rosy sky.

I nailed it this time. It still wasn't the best of the bunch, but my teacher was very satisfied with my progress.

Fast forward several years. This time I was already working and one of my tasks was to write articles for the monthly 'missions' newsletter. The annual summer mission to Indonesia had just wrapped and I was supposed to write up something based on a rough journal/log kept by a member of the mission team.

You'd think I'd remember the lessons I learned in high school. Wrong.

After I turned in my first draft, my boss called me in to say that the piece was very boring. Ouch. He pointed out that I had written a chronologically accurate piece of the team's journey (it was based on a log, after all), but there was little to attract (and retain) the reader's attention. My descriptions were not engrossing enough. There was no 'story' for the reader to be immersed in. It might be sufficient as an official report to be filed away, but it was definitely lacking for a piece meant to be read by the mission agency's donors, who, understandably, were very interested in how effective their gifts were being used.

So back to the word processing program I went to figure out how to 're-tell' the story in a way that made the reader experience what the writer (or in this case, the missions team) had experienced, and not just gain a new piece of information.

And that lesson in descriptive writing has been ingrained in me ever since. I hope time does tell that I've learned it well (and I'm still in learning mode), thanks to a few mentors who had given me a lot of chances and constructive criticisms along the way!

"I've seen fire and I've seen rain..."

2009-01-20T10:49:00.026+07:00

Both a raging inferno and a fast-rising flood marked our first year anniversary of moving to Jakarta and our sixth year wedding anniversary. If that sounds like an exaggeration to you, trust me, it's not.

The photo of the fire is from Jakarta Post.
The photo of the flood is taken by me,
that's how the street in front of the house looked like on Monday morning.

January 18, 2009 began and almost ended just like another pleasant Sunday. My husband and I went to church in the morning, then had a delicious lunch at a nice Indian restaurant with a superb service. We had a couple of things to commemorate: on this date in 2003 we pledged our love and lives to each other before the Lord and a church packed with families and friends, then in 2008 we said tearful goodbyes to our dear friends as we boarded our flight to Jakarta from Los Angeles International Airport.

We were spending a quiet evening at home with the boys when my father-in-law called around 9:30 PM to say that there was an explosion at a nearby fuel depot. My in-laws live in an area of Kelapa Gading (north Jakarta) that's closer to the explosion, but we didn't feel or hear anything at our house (several kilometers to the east). We immediately went outside and looked northwestward. Sure enough, although we couldn't see the actual flames, the buildings were silhouetted against an ominously glowing red sky. Bern quickly drove the car to the nearest gas station to fill it up. The fire was raging at Pertamina's vast fuel depot complex that supplies most of Jakarta and there was a potential fuel shortage if the situation worsened. He called me as he neared the station to say that there were already 20 cars in front of him and an even longer line growing behind him.

At home I kept scanning the TV channels for news on this, but there wasn't any yet. Then around 10 PM everybody from my in-laws' household (my parents-in-law, sister-in-law and her husband, their 7-month baby and their maid) arrived at our home.

My in-laws described the moment of the explosion as they experienced it: first they heard a very loud bang and then "whoozzzhhh!!" as the powerful shockwave rushed through the house like some kind of a supernatural force. They thought it was an earthquake. When they went outside they could see flames licking the sky a few kilometers away. Then shortly after, the streets in my in-laws' neighborhood started filling up with hordes of people who were evacuating on foot. These were the inhabitants of the immediate vicinity of the enormous fireball. They were terrified, many were crying and carrying whatever possessions they could carry on their back.

Seeing the growing chaos and fireball my in-laws decided to evacuate to our home which is several kilometers east farther from the 'epicenter' (the Pertamina fuel depot is in an area called Plumpang in north Jakarta, the same district as Kelapa Gading). They left so quickly that they didn't even bring spare clothes.

One of the TV stations finally put a 'breaking news' broadcast of the fire. For the first time we saw footage of the inferno, captured from about 500 meters away. We were glued to the TV, desperate for any development, but details were still sketchy. It was reported that almost two dozen firefighting units from all around Jakarta were dispatched to Plumpang, but they were hampered from getting near the blaze because of the throngs of 'looky-loos' packing the area! The anxiety level was rising because this had the potential to grow into a terrifyingly unthinkable devastation for the city. Picture this: a gigantic fuel tank containing enough gasoline to fill up 500 tanker-trucks is fueling 100-meter high flames, burning out-of-control. This massive ball of fire is surrounded by another 23 (yes, twenty-three) other fuel storage tanks of similar size (that's a lot of fuel, people!), the nearest one was only 50 meters (164 feet) away! Moreover, this huge complex of highly combustible material is immediately surrounded by a densely populated area, very tightly packed with houses and huts (mostly of slums illegally built on land that was supposed to be an empty 'buffer zone' surrounding the fuel depot complex. But that's another topic.). And this isn't southern California where the 'wild fires' blackened mostly non-inhabited areas of dry brush and vegetations. This was right in the middle of a densely populated city. It was really horrifying to think what would happen if one spark fell on the houses nearby, how the fire would race to engulf the tiny, tightly packed houses like matchsticks. Then it's just a skip and a jump to Kelapa Gading!

Then there could also be a fuel shortage in Jakarta if the other tanks went up in flames. That, in turn, could spark other dangerous situations in this era of economic and political anxiety (2009 is Election Year in Indonesia).

Now do you see how precarious the situation was?

We kept watching the red sky and the TV. By this time it had started to drizzle, which was good news for the surrounding homes, but not enough to put out the uncontrollable blaze. Being a gasoline fire, it had to be extinguished by a chemical retardant, not water.

It was almost midnight when I took the kids upstairs to sleep. Everybody else was still watching the news downstairs. Firefighters still could not get the upper hand, they could only make sure that the other tanks and the roofs of nearby homes didn't catch fire. By this time it was also raining harder.

At 1:30 AM Brennan woke up wanting to drink, so I carried him downstairs for a cup of water. I could see that my father-in-law and brother-in-law were still watching the news on TV because the fire was still raging, but still contained within that one tank. The rain still poured down. From the second floor window I could see that water already covered parts of the street, which was quite normal given the amount of rain. We went back to sleep.

At around 2 AM there was a little bit of commotion outside our bedroom because the leaks on the second floor were getting very bad. Then it leaked in our bedroom, too. The maids and Bern were busy mopping up the floor and placing buckets. The rain was now coming down in torrents. I stayed with the kids and tried to get back to sleep.

I suddenly woke up around 3 AM, this time the whole house was abuzz. FLOOD! The water level had somehow increased swiftly and there was about 15 cm (almost 6 inches) of water inside the house already. Everyone downstairs was busy moving things onto tabletops, chairs, stairsteps, etc. My poor in-laws, they came to our house to escape the blaze, only to get flooded here several hours later.

In the midst of this frenzy we were suddenly plunged into darkness! There was a short-circuit somewhere in the house, cutting off the electricity. The damage control continued in the dark, aided only by candles and flashlights. With flooding and leaking, no lights, no A/C, it was totally miserable. I kept fanning the kids to ward off the mosquitoes and the stuffy humidity that was building up.

And even in the midst of the pounding rain we could smell a whiff of gasoline in the air. Plumpang was still burning.

I kept praying for the rain to stop. There was no telling how much worse it could get (it got very bad in 2007 when the water was 60 cm [almost 2 feet] inside the house!).

Then at a quarter to four, it started to subside. At a little after four in the morning, two things happened that cheered everyone: the rain finally stopped and the electricity went back on! We all breathed a sigh of relief. The ground floor was still covered in floodwater, but at least it had stopped raining.

I tried getting some sleep along with the kids. By the time I woke up shortly after sunrise, the water downstairs had receded, leaving behind a muddy mess inside the house.

The streets were another story. It was almost knee-deep in some spots. The water level there slowly dropped throughout the morning and by late afternoon some of the street's surface were dry (but full of pot holes... again!). My in-laws drove back home when the water level got low enough for their car to safely pass through (thankfully their home wasn't flooded).

On this waterlogged Monday morning we also found out that the inferno at Plumpang had raged all night and was only extinguished shortly after 6 AM.

I told you I wasn't exaggerating.

Shortly after dawn, photographed from the second story balcony.
You see that minivan on the lower right?
At its highest level the water was up to its headlights
and covered the top of the planters that run along the length of the fence.

My father-in-law checked the cars for damages
(thank God there was none, other than the missing spare tire cover
on my brother-in-law's car.
Most likely the surge of water washed it away).
As you can see, the courtyard was still covered in a little bit of water.

Left: Although the water inside the house receded quickly,
it still left a muddy mess
(this was after the initial mop-up,
it took many more mopping up to totally clean it!)
Right: the 'river' right outside the front step.

Every time a car passed by, it sent a tidal wave of floodwater
back into the courtyard (and the driver usually stepped on the gas
to get through quickly, creating even bigger waves!)

Rain, rain, go away!

2009-01-15T12:30:00.007+07:00

I used to love rain.

I loved how its pitter-patter could lull me into a deeper sleep as I snuggled warmly under my blanket. I loved the grey and colder weather that it brought. I perked up whenever rain was in the forecast and happily anticipated the approach of clouds the color of gunmetal. I loved how even the air smelled freshly scrubbed after a lengthy downpour.

But that was then. When I lived in southern California where it's dry almost year round and a rainstorm is like manna from heaven.

Now in Jakarta, I dread rain.

We are smack dab in the rainy season here. I could and should have loved the intense tropical thunderstorms. It is an awesome sight to behold, it comes swiftly, dramatically ushered by strong gusts of wind that shake the tree branches. Then the heaven opens... and oh, how it pours! Sometimes it rained so hard and fast that it looks like sheets, not drops, of water coming down. I even could love the lightning and thunder, how the sky lit up for a split second, followed by a loud CRACK! a hearbeat later, then the air shakes with deep rumbles that you can feel in your chest.

But rain in Jakarta always precipitates a host of problems. You see, the area where I currently live is prone to flooding (and the city itself as a whole has suffered devastating floods in the past several years). Last year, barely two weeks after our arrival here, we got our first taste of it.

Moreover, any downpour in Jakarta would immediately seize up the already congested traffic, practically paralyzing many parts of the city. Even a short shower could flood many streets to depths from just inches to deep enough to stall motorcycles and cars. Then there are the gutters, canals and rivers. Back-to-back heavy rain in the past few days already filled up the canals running through Kelapa Gading. In some stretches of it, the water level is almost flush with the top of the embankment. Spillover is a matter of 'when', not 'if'.

Additionally, the house we reside in is an older type and there are numerous leaks whenever the rain got stronger than a gentle shower. Just a few days ago, in the midst of an intense storm, my husband and I woke up before dawn and scrambled to mop up the growing puddles on the floor, positioning large buckets underneath the leaky spots and shoveling water out of the second story balcony onto the courtyard below. The leaks were going fast and furious. When the sun rose we could also see that parts of the streets were under water. Thank goodness it soon drained away.

Pre-dawn storms that soothed me back to sleep in southern California now keep me awake as I anxiously listened to the drip... drip... drip... wondering and worrying if it would grow worse. I fall back to sleep only fitfully.

Friends have warned us that if a rainstorm stretches into many hours without stopping (like it did for 16 hours straight last year), it's time to move the furniture and valuables to higher ground or to the second floor (if there's any). Then make plans to evacuate. Yeah.

* . . . sigh . . . *

I used to love rain.

Year One

2009-01-06T13:41:00.012+07:00

Soon the world will watch Barack Obama take his oath as the 44^th President of the country I used to call home for 22 years, and on that same day we will be marking a personal milestone: our one year 'anniversary' of arriving in Jakarta.

After more than 20 hours of flying from Los Angeles, my husband and I and our two small kids finally set foot in Soekarno-Hatta Airport on the twentieth day of January 2008. It was a Sunday afternoon, the heat and humidity enveloped us like a blanket and combined with the fatigue from a long flight, everything seemed like a daze.

One year... those who'd made similar transitions of returning to Indonesia after living abroad said that the first year at home is the toughest. Yes, it was tough, but I don't think one year for me is a 'magic' line in the sand of time where things would somehow get very easy after I cross over it. How long a person has lived in another country will definitely have a direct impact on the adjustment period upon returning home. And I've lived almost two-thirds of my life away from here.

So, one year? I don't think so...

True, some things were easier to adjust to, such as the food (no problems there... hello, food paradise!) or having a nanny and a maid (yippeee!). While others I still struggle with or at best, simply tolerate: the heat and humidity (thank goodness for A/C) and the traffic, or more specifically: how people drive here, because I'm sure it contributes to the maddening congestion (even after driving for 20 years in America, I still don't dare to get behind the wheel in Jakarta).

There are also more intangible, internal things that I have to deal with, but those are not very easy to write about, and to tell you the truth, I'm not one to wear my heart on my sleeve for all the world to see (or read). Quite paradoxical given the fact that I have this very blog. Ehm.

There is one thing, though, that dawned on me as the one facet of life in Jakarta that permeates and affects almost everything else (especially the issues I still have a hard time adjusting to). This one thing is so obvious, but maybe not for a person who has lived in Jakarta all his/her life, for it's just another fact of life like the (polluted) air that he/she breathes.

So, what is this one thing?

It's Jakarta's very dense population. Depending on which statistics you're drawing from, the population density of this 'mother city' is between 10,500-12,700 people per square km. (it's already one of the most densely populated city in the world). Compare that to Los Angeles County (not the city of LA itself, for I lived in its suburbs), which is estimated at around 1,000 people per square km. Jakarta is about ten times denser than where I used to live in southern California!

This hyper-concentrated number of people living in one area was a shock to me. I didn't need to research the statistics above to know, feel and live with its effects. I remember that long drive from the airport to our 'home' in Kelapa Gading, how tightly packed all the houses and buildings were as we drove by them. Everything was cramped side-by-side and on top of each other. And there are people, large number of people, everywhere... right outside the house, walking, shopping, driving, waiting, loitering...

What's the big deal, you may ask? See, if you've lived in Jakarta or any other densely populated cities (New York City or Tokyo, maybe?), it's just 'normal'. But for me who'd lived in less dense suburbs of Los Angeles, where streets are wide, parking spaces are numerous (and free), houses have front and backyards and don't share walls with neighbors, and there was just more 'breathing space', it was a shock to the system.

On my first trip to the mall here on a weekend, I was amazed at how crowded it was. It was packed like LA's malls on the last few days before Christmas as people cram in their holiday shopping (which I mostly avoided back then for that reason). I asked the person who took me there if it was usually crowded like this and she said yes, it's just another normal weekend. Okaayyy....

Large population also produces an astounding amount of trash. Combine that with the nasty habits of many Indonesians of tossing trash anywhere but into the trash can, you have yourself a city with garbage littering the streets and sidewalks, and choking the gutters, canals and rivers. I took photos of some small canals running through Kelapa Gading, but I don't want to post them here, because they're just gross. Ugh.

More than 10 million people here also means hundreds of thousands of cars, motorcycles, buses, and bajajs on the streets. I'd never seen so many motorcycles until I moved back here. Jakarta's traffic jams are notorious. The congestion is not only caused by the sheer number of vehicles, but also by the lack of adherence to traffic rules by most drivers (do they even know the rules? hmmm...). At some intersections, traffic lights are regularly and brazenly ignored. A three-lane street is bottlenecked to just one because a) the rightmost lane is converted to bus-only lane, and b) the leftmost lane is taken up by street vendors, illegally parked vehicles, and/or by angkots (small vans converted for public transportation) stopping wherever they please to pick-up/drop-off passengers.

Then, in that remaining middle lane, cars can squeeze two abreast and motorcycles can weave in-and-out the already tight spaces. In the beginning I used to be so strung out when I was riding in a car, and after one year, I still wince ... just not as much.

Another example: using the car horn in LA's streets and freeways is usually reserved for the most extreme situation and usually in a very 'angry' way, but not here. In Jakarta you honk your horn casually, just to let the vehicles in front of you know that you're 'here' (because nobody bothers to see what's behind them... yeah...).

Whew. Really, you don't truly know 'defensive driving' until you navigate the streets of Jakarta. In all my 20 years of driving in LA even though we were instructed to 'drive defensively', I took it for granted that other drivers would obey traffic rules and respect each other (for the most part).

Well.. we're not in LA anymore, Toto! We can chuck that notion out of the window!

Now you know why I haven't started driving yet.

I'm also still getting used to the noise level here. The only time everything is quiet and calm is way past midnight (if I'm still awake). Quietness is another 'life in LA' aspect that sorely I miss (and took for granted). Back then I could wake up to no other sound except the birds' cheerful chirping; here it's the motorcycles, sputtering bajajs and one very obnoxious bird.

Okay, it's a very long post already, I'll stop here before this turns into a novella. For my musings throughout this past year, you can check out the archives on the right starting in January 2008. The journey continues... now entering the second year!

Autumn-less...

2008-11-04T10:33:00.011+07:00

Sweater weather. Falling leaves. A nip in the air. Apple pie and pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Getting busier in the kitchen (thanks to cooler weather) and making the house smelled cozy and delicious. A batch of bread pudding or rich macaroni-n-cheese 'pie' baking in the oven. A pot of chunky beef stew or Tuscan kale soup bubbling on the stove. A steaming cup of Starbuck's caramel macchiato* to ward off the chill. Stocking up on Swiss Miss Dark (Dutch) Chocolate Sensation hot cocoa mix. The tree-lined and leaf-strewn streets of Claremont Village. ... ~ sigh ~

Even though southern California's fall and winter are very mild compared to other parts of America (no snow in LA, and at most, any early morning frost disappeared when kissed by the sun), there's a definite change that I looked forward to as the calendar rolled on to October.

It's been a part of my 'system' for so long and I miss the sights, sounds and smell of my favorite seasons, it's visceral.

(*yes, that drink's also available in any of Jakarta's Starbucks, but I never ordered it hot here... it's the tropical climate that's steaming, not the coffee.)

Photos are not mine, they're from various websites.

Birth Day

2008-10-15T10:00:00.004+07:00

"When you have kids the days are long, but the years are short". I forgot where I first read that quote or who said it, but it is very true. Our firstborn, Stanley, is turning four this October. I originally wrote the account below a few months after I gave birth to him, which was a few years before I started this blog, so it was never posted here until now (Brennan's delivery story, however, was one of the earliest posts).

It was a dark and stormy night...

Really. It was dark and stormy on the night Stanley signaled that he was ready to enter the world. The evening of October 19 was filled with torrential rain and winds that howled and whipped the tree branches wildly, something southern Californians experienced very rarely. It was crazy outside, but we spent a cozy night inside relaxing and watching TV until midnight. We were getting ready to sleep at around one o'clock in the morning when my water broke. After making sure that it was truly the amniotic fluid that was slowly leaking, we made our way to the hospital.

Even at two in the morning the rain was still pouring down hard and the winds showed no sign of dissipating. Bern slowly drove down the hill along the twisting, dark, wet road littered with fallen branches. But we weren't nervous or panicking. Thankfully I wasn't experiencing any pain at all ... well, not yet. The good thing about driving at that hour was the streets and freeways were practically empty, but the asphalt was all slick with water and debris.

It was a bit surreal. Given the wild weather, it was a dramatic drive for many reasons, but it was that much more unforgettable because of why we were making the drive at such hour in the first place.

We were both wide awake with anticipation and adrenaline. For me it was also the realization that this was some kind of a 'final' car ride. This is it. All the months of waiting and praying, of reading up on articles, of getting all the baby gears ready, of mental preparation... this is it.

The next time we were going to be in this car, it would have an extra passenger in the backseat. This was the ride to end the relatively care-free 'just-the-two-of-us' phase in our marriage, but it was also to begin a new journey as a family. New lifestyle, new responsibilities. And new joy, such as the kind we could never imagine before.

Half-an-hour later we arrived at the hospital (the rain still pouring) where I was admitted immediately (still no pain). Then the labor pangs started at about four-thirty in the morning. And they grew in intensity like no pain I had ever endured.

Until, of course, I got the epidural I asked for (what a huge relief! My warmest gratitude to the person who invented it!). A few uneventful hours passed by as I just rested as the medication took away most of the pain. There was still enough painful pressure with each contraction to keep me awake (and I also shook like a leaf every few minutes, a side-effect of the epidural, not of chill). Bern dozed off on a bed next to me (we were in a nice and private 'Labor-Delivery-Recovery/LDR' room, with accommodations for family members). The baby's heart rate monitor indicated that Stanley was doing very well throughout the ordeal. He was ready and so was I (already fully dilated by six thirty), but we still had to wait.

It was about nine in the morning when my ob-gyn arrived. She looked at the baby's heart monitor and quipped, "He's a happy baby!". With her there, a nurse and of course, my dearest hubby, the pushing could finally begin. Come on, Stanley... we're on the home stretch now!

An hour later, at 10:09 in the morning of Wednesday, October 20^th, 2004, our little sunshine greeted the world...

I finally got to hold Stanley just moments after giving birth to him.
Exhausted but ecstatic!
Left: Stanley's bewildered look, minutes after leaving the womb...
I don't blame you, baby!
Right: safe and snug.
Our first family picture!
Look at me now!

Stanley's trip to the countryside

2008-10-11T15:44:00.005+07:00

I think the only time Stanley was exposed to farm animals in the United States was in that little petting zoo in Disneyland (yes, it exists. It's located along the walkway that connects Frontierland to Fantasyland, behind Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. Do I sound like I've been to Disneyland too often and I'm missing it? Yes! ... but that's another story).

Here in early October he went with Bern and Opa Richard (Bern's dad) to a tiny village in Jonggol, a lush countryside of rice paddies less than 2 hours from Jakarta. The reason for the trip was to pick up mbak Acih, Brennan's nanny, at the end of her one week Lebaran holiday.

Brennan and I stayed home in Jakarta (we both had made the trip before).

A once-a-year phenomenon on the streets of Jakarta

2008-10-10T12:28:00.014+07:00

A few weeks before the Lebaran holiday arrived, our friends and family already informed us with happy anticipation: "The best time to drive in Jakarta is during Lebaran!", "The streets will be soooo empty!", "There will be no traffic!", "It won't take forever to drive across town!", and on and on.

My curiosity was piqued.

This was my first taste of Lebaran in 22+ years. When I was living in southern California, this Islamic holiday barely registered as a blip in American culture and society. Here in Muslim-majority Indonesia, Lebaran (Idul Fitri) is the country's biggest and most anticipated holiday. It marks the end of the feasting month of Ramadhan, and it's like Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Year and the Fourth of July rolled into one week-long festivities.

Festive, that is, except for Jakarta. Why? Because literally millions of people traveled out of this crowded capital and back to their hometowns or villages (mudik) to be with their families for the holiday.

This temporary exodus started happening the weekend before the actual 'red' calendar days (October 1-2 in 2008). Most of Jakarta shut down from September 29 until October 3. Government offices and most private businesses and banks closed for the whole week. Stores, restaurants and malls either closed down completely or opened for very limited hours. Street vendors disappeared. Domestic helps (maids, nannies, private chauffeurs, cooks, etc.) also 'pulang kampung' (went back to their villages).

An interesting side note: many restaurants in Kelapa Gading, the north Jakarta neighborhood where we live, were open and business was quite good, if I may say so. The food court at Mal Kelapa Gading was absolutely jam-packed with diners on the evening of the first day of Lebaran (I should know, we were among them... haha!). I think I know why: Kelapa Gading is well-known as a Chinese enclave and also a Christian area, so most of its non-Muslim residents preferred to eat out because there was nobody to cook and clean at home. It's just a personal theory... *wink*

Anyway, this annual Lebaran migration practically emptied out the city. And for a week those who remained in this metropolitan enjoyed breezing through its deserted streets and thoroughfares, which would be normally, maddeningly congested.

As I'm writing this on the week after, Jakarta has begun to fill up again as the masses return. The level of hustle-and-bustle is almost back to its pre-holiday level. Traffic is still lighter than usual, but very soon everyone will be complaining about it again. Oh well... until next year!

These next two photos portray the typical congestion and chaos in Jakarta's streets:

The term for this is 'padat merayap' (bumper-to-bumper, slow-moving traffic).

This one is the normal free-for-all snarls at the main roundabout of Kelapa Gading,
where traffic flows in and out of four directions, without any traffic lights or stop signs.
And the 'traffic' consists of not only cars and motorcycles,
but also bajajs, angkots (public transportation by small vans), bicycles
and the occasional street vendors on foot.
Sounds crazy? It is. But miraculously there's very little accidents!

Now compare that to this, taken during the holiday week:

Nice, eh? This was southbound on Jl.Thamrin, a main artery in downtown Jakarta.

Truly a rare sight and condition ...

Too bad it only lasted for a week!

The latest photos of the boys

2008-10-08T16:43:00.002+07:00

The slideshow above should play automatically.
Clicking it will take you to my Picasa web album.

Where were you when it happened?

2008-09-09T10:47:00.011+07:00

[This post was originally written in 2008]

One morning seven years ago the radio alarm that I set for 6:00 AM woke me up. Even though it was a workday, I had already asked for a day-off because I needed to pick up my brother at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) later that morning at ten o'clock. I hadn't seen Sidney since the year before, and I was looking forward to have him stay with me for a few days in LA before he continued to Vancouver.

I put the alarm on snooze and stayed under my blanket for a few more minutes. My half-asleep ears and mind caught bits and pieces of the radio broadcast. The reporter mentioned what seemed to be an airplane accident in New York City, although details were still sketchy. It didn't really catch my attention and I drifted off to sleep for several more minutes until the alarm blared again.

There was still plenty of time before I had to start my commute to LAX, so I cleaned the inside of my car (I didn't do this every day, it was just because my brother was coming). Then I took a shower and started to get ready.

That was when I passed by the TV in the living room. What was playing on the screen stopped me in my tracks. I stood there transfixed in horror along with my landlady as we watched news live from New York City of the World Trade Centers engulfed in flames.

That day, of course, was Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

Not much was known at that point other than two planes had crashed into both Towers of the World Trade Center less than one hour before (New York is three hours ahead of Los Angeles). I watched in disbelief as footage of the second plane crashing into the Tower was replayed over and over again. What's happening?

And even as we watched the live feed, one of the Towers crumbled to the ground right before our eyes. Oh, my God! I was sick to the pit of my stomach as I imagined the people who got buried and crushed alive. Then the second Tower also collapsed. Cameras on the ground captured the pure terror of people running for their lives as a gigantic dark cloud of debris raced to engulf everything in its path.

Another plane had also crashed into the Pentagon near Washington D.C. Then came the announcement that the United States airspace was shut down. That meant no civilian or commercial aircraft was allowed to fly. Those that were still in the air were to immediately land at the nearest airport. All incoming international flights were being diverted to Canada.

LAX was closed off and was at an especially high alert since one of the planes that hit the World Trace Centers was originally destined for it.

It was a terrifying and chaotic morning for everyone, but I had one more thing to worry about: where was my brother? was he safe? did his plane land in LAX already? if not, where would he end up?

There was no use for me to go to LAX now. I tried calling the airline Sidney was flying with, but the line was continually busy. I found the number for the local FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) office and incredibly, a live person answered it! But he also didn't have any information. Nobody knew much of anything at that point, what was happening in the East Coast was barely three hours old.

Still not knowing where my brother was, I decided to go to the office anyway. I didn't want to be stressed out alone at home. I just kept praying that he would be safe. Of course, once I got to the office, everyone was talking about what was happening earlier. I kept calling the airline's number, and thankfully I got through sometime in the afternoon! My brother's flight had been diverted to San Francisco and the airline would transport the passengers by bus to Los Angeles the next day.

I was so relieved!

So the following day I picked him up at a hotel near LAX where the bus dropped the passengers off. (LAX itself was still off-limits). He got some stories to tell, too! He told me that none of the passengers knew what was happening, they were oblivious to the horrifying events happening on the East Coast. They didn't even know that their flight didn't land in Los Angeles, but in San Francisco. My brother did suspect something when the plane was touching down because the airport didn't look like LAX to him. Once the plane came to a stop, a bunch of uniformed men stormed the cabin, guns drawn, yelling for everyone to 'get down!' (wow... just like in the movies!). Sidney noticed they had 'SFPD' emblazoned on their uniforms.

The San Francisco Police Department was just making sure there was no hijacker or terrorist among them. Once everyone was cleared, the passengers walked through an eerily empty and quiet airport. They still had no clear idea of what's happening. It wasn't until my brother got to his hotel room (the airline provided for it) and watched TV that he began to understand the reasons.

He still had to travel to Vancouver a few days later, but with the U.S. airspace still shut down, that plan was on hold. I think at one point we were even trying to find bus or train routes from LA to Vancouver! Thankfully the government 'reopened' the airspace within a couple of days, but LAX was still closed off to everyone but the actual passengers. He ended up going to LAX with an airport shuttle van and completed the rest of his travels safely.

The events of September 11, 2001 personally affected me and my brother. I fully realize how it impacted us was very insignificant and minuscule compared to countless others who lost their loved ones in the attacks, or had their lives severely altered because of it in one way or another.

I'm a student of history, especially ancient history. I love learning about cultures, literature and languages that not only defined the world centuries and millennia ago, but whose influence also helped shape the world today.

But this is history that we got to experience and witness in person, not from a book or in a classroom.

If one generation ago people, especially in the U.S., were asking 'where were you when you heard JFK was assassinated?', for our generation the term '9/11' is a critical milestone and it has entered our vocabulary as a shorthand code to all the terrifying events that happened that morning. It became the impetus for many global events still ongoing today. It changed America, it changed the world.

Can you guess what this is?

2008-09-02T14:39:00.009+07:00

Hint: it's a food item, okay? Human food item!
Lest some of you more scatologically-minded people think of something else (ewww)!

I know I just posted a food-related entry right before this, but I can't resist putting this up!

I never tasted this particular combination before, but I do enjoy its individual ingredients separately. To me, the idea of it is intriguing and hilarious at the same time. It's not cheap, either, selling for US$9.50 per quarter pound.

So, have you guessed it yet?

To see if you're right, highlight this line below:
it's CHOCOLATE-COVERED BACON.

Click here to read the original article (the photo comes from there).

The Omnivore's 100

2008-09-01T11:24:00.010+07:00

After the previous post, here's something more lighthearted :). It's something everyone can relate to: food!

I got this list from a food blog called "Very Good Taste", which, in turn, was referenced by the Epi-Log.

Just go down the list and see which food/beverage item you have tasted so far. Again, I didn't come up with the list, I just copied and pasted it from the VGT site. If you're wondering on the definition of an item (what's poutine*?), just Google it or search it in Wikipedia, or you can click here to go to the original article where the author has helpfully linked some items to their respective Wikipedia page.

Below are my results:
- bold black text = been there, done that
- (italicized text in parentheses) = my own personal notes, comments, etc.
- ~~crossed-out text~~ = I will never try this! Not even a taste, a nibble or a sip. No.

So, here we go... the VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp (gurame)
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart (most memorable: bacon-wrapped hot dog topped with grilled onions from a street vendor in Los Angeles' Garment District while hunting for bridesmaid's gowns with the bride-to-be and fellow bridesmaids. We each ate one. Not exactly helpful to our 'mission', huh?)
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes (plum wine: it tasted like cough medicine... yuck!)
19. Steamed pork buns (ba pao!)
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper (does raw Thai/bird's eye chili [cabe rawit] count?)
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters (I was only six when I first slurped a raw one from the shell. No, I didn't gag. I liked it.)
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail (nothing like a steaming bowl of 'sop buntut')
41. Curried goat
42. ~~Whole insects~~ (I'd rather crush them flat with a sandal)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. ~~Fugu~~ (ehh... no thanks, I don't have a death wish)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer (in the form of spinach-based 'saag paneer')
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. ~~Kaolin~~ (ugh! I don't think this is a 'food' item at all)
64. Currywurst ('curry' and 'wurst'? Those two words don't belong together)
65. Durian (oh yeah! The King of fruit that can humble the most adventurous eater)
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (all of the above!)
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain (with garlic pork and rice & beans at a Cuban restaurant -- thanks, Edo!)
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette (deep fried pork intestine with porridge, anyone?)
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini (do I get a half-point credit?)
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. ~~Roadkill~~ (bleeagghhh...)
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie (high school cafeteria flashbacks...)
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum (I miss the Sanam Luang in Pomona)
82. Eggs Benedict (... and Las Brisas in Laguna Beach)
83. Pocky (my kids love 'em, too!)
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant (... someday, someday...)
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish (pecel lele with lalapan and sambal terasi...)
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee (how about Kopi Lampung or Kopi Luwak?)
100. Snake

My results: 48.5 out of a 100 (the half-point comes from #72).

*poutine is a Canadian comfort food (some say heart-attack-on-a-plate) made from french fries "topped with fresh cheese curds, covered with brown gravy and sometimes additional ingredients".

Notes on #5, #89 and #100 (crocodile, horse, snake, respectively): my husband has been trying to get me to try them. There's a food stall here that specializes in 'sate kuda' (horse satay). Then there's a nearby Chinese restaurant named "Raja [King] Cobra", specializing in, what else? Dishes made from snake meat, heart, liver, etc. Thankfully, I haven't seen any crocodile meat featured in a menu so far. While I'm pretty resistant to his efforts at this point, I also have an 'I'll try (almost) anything once' philosophy when it comes to food. So maybe sometime in the future... stay tuned.

My dear husband also wants me to try a meat not found on this list: ~~dog~~. 'Nuff said.

But there is another item not on this list that I very much enjoyed on several occasions while growing up: (with no disrespect to the Dark Knight) bat meat! ... Holy poutine, Batman!

Okay, so how did you do? Comments, please...

Head-spinning and heart-breaking...

2008-08-25T12:33:00.010+07:00

The Body of Christ was delivered a one-two punch in these last few weeks. It surely felt like it on Sunday evening when my brother told me about two latest 'scandals' in Christendom revolving around Todd Bentley and Mike Guglielmucci.

"Huh? WHA...?!? Whaatt???" Disbelief, disappointment, anger, 'not again, Lord...' .... and finally, sadness.

Of Mike Guglielmucci, I even wrote about him and his song "Healer" in a post in late July. Then on August 21 he dropped a bomb on everyone, including his own wife and family: he confessed that he had faked his terminal cancer and he had been hiding a 16-years addiction to pornography.

Whoa.

Does this nullify the power and anointing of the song that he 'purportedly' wrote when he was diagnosed with cancer? I ask myself that question, for I also had been touched by "Healer". Millions in churches around the world had worshipped the Lord and reached out to Him in faith through that song. But it was based on a lie! How could that be?

I don't know. Only God can know the answer and use it for His purposes.

As my head was spinning trying to grasp this, the Holy Spirit just reminded me of David. This 'man after God's own heart' committed some scandalous sins in his life. Some of his most well-known Psalms were even birthed in the struggles and the repentance afterwards. Ok, some of you might argue, but he didn't write them WHILE lying through his teeth. I know. But I also know that my God is also called the "Redeemer". King David, in the height of his success, slept with a neighbor's wife and successfully schemed to have her husband, Uriah, killed in battle. God took away the life of the son conceived in adultery with Bathsheba and a curse was put on David's line for his murder of Uriah, but after David repented, the second child that Bathsheba bore grew up to be King Solomon. And I didn't write that to condone what Mike had done, for his deception has damaging and destructive repercussions.

As for Todd Bentley, I'd heard of him in the past several years, but I never followed his ministry or the four-month 'Lakeland Revival' that was touted as the biggest charismatic/Pentecostal revival in recent history. Apparently Todd's doctrines and unorthodox 'methods' in his ministry had been questioned by other leaders all along, but everything irrevocably fell apart after news earlier this month that he was divorcing his wife and that he was involved in an 'unhealthy emotional relationship of an emotional nature with a female member of his staff'.

Sorting through the muck surfacing on the Internet on the Todd Bentley fallout, I found these 'responses' from Pastor Dutch Sheets (Senior Pastor of Freedom Church, Colorado Springs, CO) and J. Lee Grady (Editor of Charisma Magazine) to be the most honest and thoughtful, not just reactionary. They don't pull back any punches, don't hide behind self-preservation, don't blame the devil and don't become spin doctors. They ask questions, hard questions about personal and doctrinal integrity and accountability (and lack thereof), not only to the greater charismatic community, but also to themselves because both are also movers and shakers in the charismatic movement.

"... continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling" (Philippians 2:12)

Lord, have mercy on us all...

Homesick for the Village...

2008-08-20T12:50:00.024+07:00

Claremont Village, that is.

After I read a recent feature on Claremont by The Los Angeles Times, it left me terribly homesick for what I considered to be my true 'hometown'.

The Verbal Building across from Starbucks. Photo from The Los Angeles Times.
I never actually resided in Claremont in all my 22+ years of living in southern California, but for about ten years I practically lived there. It's where I worked (LACBC's office) and where my church life revolved. I was there Mondays thru Fridays for work, Thursday nights for Music Ministry practice, Sundays for services, and the occasional (okay, frequent) weeknights and Saturdays for whatever meeting, practice or event that required my attendance.

There you have it: I spent more time in Claremont than any other place in the U.S.!

The Village is the heart and soul of Claremont and it's what I love most about this city. I never got tired of the Village's charming, leafy streets and its lovely and authentic small town ambiance.

It is as close to 'perfection' to my 'ideal' town square, and by it I don't mean Disneyland's 'Main Street' or even Glendale's 'The Americana at Brand' manufactured perfection. Claremont is a real city grounded in real history. The Village (as I left it in January 2008, there have been new expansions since then) was a hamlet of small mom-and-pop stores, bakeries, cafés, casual dining, cozy upscale restaurants, banks, barbershop, beauty salons, art galleries and a cluster of historical houses spread over several blocks. Some businesses have been there for several decades.

Everything is scaled on a personal, intimate level, all sheltered by tall eucalyptus, weeping willows, flowering dogwoods and other mature trees. The adjacent Claremont Colleges further lend a graceful collegiate note to the neighborhood (think Oxford and the namesakes of the Village's streets: Harvard Ave. and Yale Ave., not some party school).

From the office the Village is just several minutes drive north on Mills Avenue. I usually found any excuse to go to there almost daily on my lunch break. It's very pedestrian-friendly and best explored on foot. So once I got there I usually parked my car and walked around to buy my lunch, a cup of coffee or a smoothie and to run other errands: go to the banks (my 'local' branch was there, not in the city where I actually lived) or the post office, get my outfits dry-cleaned, borrow a book from the library, drop by a gift store, etc.

I loved exploring its many casual eateries: bagel sandwiches from 42nd Street Bagel, burritos from the Taco Factory, toasted subs from Quizno's, tandoori chicken and basmati rice from Delhi Express, lamb shawerma and falafel from Saca's Mediterranean Cuisine (just to name the joints I frequented most for lunch, there are many more!).

And at least once a week I treated myself to delicious pastries and cookies from either of two bakeries there: Some Crust and Full of Life. The first is more American: gotta try their lemon bars (puckery sour, but also smooth and rich as butter...), any of their saucer-sized cookies (my favs: Dark Chocolate Chip, White Chocolate Macadamia, and Mocha - this last one is for the chocoholics!), flaky cinnamon buns and at least half-a-dozen types of danishes... oh, and they serve Peet's Coffee, too! Full of Life is decidedly more European with baguettes and levain bread on the menu, imported cheeses in the display case and full racks of wines lining the wall. They also made the best lemon poppyseed muffins and the best bread pudding I ever tasted in my life: it's made from the bakery's own pain de mie and served with bourbon sauce. Mmmmmmm.... (unfortunately they only made these occasionally, not daily).

Then there's Aruffo's, a cozy and somewhat upscale Italian restaurant (too pricey for lunch). Their garlic bread is to die for! The huge, crusty round of sourdough is served out-of-the-oven, topped with diced fresh tomatoes and Parmesan cheese, its yeasty aroma tantalizingly mixed with garlic and other herbs. You tear it apart with your hands (watch out, it's very hot!) and dip the pieces into a small plate pooled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Oh my... just make sure you don't stuff yourself with it before your entrée arrives!

And of course there's Starbucks in the Village (maybe the only franchised store in the whole lot)! I've lost count as to how many times I bought my coffee there (and I guess it continues to do very well since this location isn't included in the recent 600 stores closure). This Starbucks was also where, after work, I enjoyed many conversations that lasted into the night with a colleague who had then recently started working in the church office.

This co-worker eventually joined in my lunch hour forays into the Village. Sometimes we'd eat at one of the tables or on the bench on the grassy lawn of Claremont's City Hall (across from the library and kitty-corner to the post office), shaded by the tall trees, watching the mellow 'hustle-and-bustle' around us.

Photos from the Village's official site.
Even though I went to the Village almost daily, my most favorite time to be there was in late autumn. The whole atmosphere seemed crisper and cleaner, gone was the hazy heat of summer. There was a nip in the air, even in the middle of a sunny afternoon. Yellow and brown leaves littered the sidewalks. The cafés and bakeries grew even cozier as chilly breezes blew. It's the turn of the season that always left a warm feeling in my soul, a feeling that intensified whenever I strolled through the Village.

Hopefully time and new expansions won't erase its down-to-earth charms, the same charms that worked its magic in the times I spent there with the aforementioned co-worker... who is now my husband.

I surely miss my Village, I hope to walk its tree-lined streets again one day... *sigh*...

Mixed bag of August fun

2008-08-19T15:00:00.002+07:00

The slideshow above should play automatically.
Clicking it will take you to my Picasa web album.

Conversation with Brennan

2008-08-19T10:59:00.004+07:00

Our 19-month old son is chatty and very expressive, but he still speaks mostly in 'Brennanese' with a handful of English and Indonesian words thrown in. Here's what a typical banter with him sounds like:

Brennan: Mama!

Me: Yes, honey?

Brennan: Kunyakena iniii?

Me: What is it? Ini?

Brennan: Nikechakemunyamen!

Me: What do you want, Brennan?

Brennan: No no nooo!!! .... Mama?

Me: Yes?

Brennan: (pointing under the desk) ... Iiiiiiiii!!!

Me: What's under there? Kecoa (cockroach)?

Brennan: (still pointing) Mukemakeyagadechkananiii??

Me: (totally lost) Ehhh....

Brennan: Uh oh!

Bern walks into the room while eating something.

Brennan: Mama!

Bern: Papa!

Brennan: Mama?

Bern: Papa!

Brennan: Papaaa! ... (now pointing at the food in Papa's hand) Maauuuuuuu....!

Good ol' American meals

2008-08-15T11:11:00.034+07:00

After about six months of living in Jakarta, surrounded by (and eating) a lot of food we could only dream about in Los Angeles, we began to really miss American food. A great burger (In-n-Out!), bacon, steak, BBQ ribs, hot-off-the-grill bratwurst and good ol' American breakfast: pancakes, maple syrup, stuffed omelettes, crispy hash browns, sausage links, bacon (oh, did I mention that already?) ... American diner food, basically (we miss you, Denny's...).

Well, the good thing about living in Jakarta is you can have the best of both (culinary) worlds. You can't find genuine Indonesian 'street cuisine' in Los Angeles... I'm talking about the 'amigos' style of eating out, and it doesn't mean you're with your buddies chowing down carne asada and carnitas.

AMIGOS = Agak MInggir GOt Sedikit refers to a type of dining establishment (I'm using the word very loosely here), roughly translated as "on the side of the road, near the sewer". And the sewer here is usually not covered. Yup.

These ubiquitous, small open-air food stalls will definitely give any U.S. restaurant inspectors the heebie-jeebies. (Brings to mind the scene from Ratatouille when the food inspector unexpectedly walked into the kitchen and found hundreds of rodents staring back at him. Well, it's not that bad, but you get the picture). Food safety health code? (never heard of 'em!) Keeping food at safe temperatures? (huh?) Cigarette smokes from other customers, exhaust fumes from passing vehicles and kamikaze flies the size of your thumbnail? (ambiance!)

Wait, wait. ... This post isn't about amigos, there's plenty of chance (and photos) for that subject later.

OK, back to our growing craving for genuine American food. As I mentioned earlier, you can find (almost) everything in Jakarta. Of course, the 'imported' stuff costs a lot more and a little bit harder to find, which is pretty much true with any imported goods in any country.

So a couple of weeks ago Bern and I ended up in Hard Rock Cafe Jakarta for lunch, it was about 3 PM already and we were starving. After perusing the all-American menu, we both decided to satisfy our hankering for burgers. He ordered the Legendary Burger, which is basically a bacon cheeseburger. But this being Indonesia, the 'bacon' is halal and is made from beef.

Do you know what this beef 'bacon' taste like?

Pastrami. Thickly sliced dried pastrami. Uhuh.

That just intensified our longing for the real rasher made from a hog. Crispy, salty, smokey, streaky with fat... (aw, come on, don't act like a healthy food snob, you know you also love bacon... it's been said that bacon is what kept many people from becoming true vegetarians).

With an over-enthusiastic HRC waiter in the background...
I ordered the enigmatically named S.O.B. Burger (below), enticed by toppings of chipotle sauce, guacamole and Monterey Jack cheese. Not bad. For both burgers the ground beef patties were thick and juicy (think Islands Burgers, not McDonald's). And they correctly cooked the meat per our requests: medium rare.

A few days later we set out to shop for more American food, this time at SOGO Food Hall, a high-end (read: pricey) supermarket specializing in imported goods. We justified this splurge by telling ourselves that we'd streeeeetch these ingredients to last for several months, cooking and eating them only once in a while.

Thankfully we did find two familiar faces at this supermarket (Aunt Betty! Aunt Jemima! So good to see you in Jakarta!). So with their help we can now have buttermilk pancakes and maple syrup at home (we tried a local pancake mix... uh, never mind. And yes, I do realize it's maple flavored corn syrup, but hey, Aunt Jemima is genuine Americana!).

Buttermilk pancakes for breakfast.
For some reason Stanley likes to eat his pancakes from the middle first.
Then as I was posting these photos
I noticed the T-shirt he was wearing
(I didn't dress him that morning, the nanny did).
What a coincidence!
As for the bacon, another very familiar American, Uncle Oscar of the wiener and bologna fame, came to our rescue with "America's Favorite Bacon - Naturally Hardwood Smoked"! The vacuum-packed red-white strips of pork belly looked gorgeous as we grabbed the one pound package and believe it or not, most of it is still in our freezer. We are using it judiciously, as we promised ourselves.

Other staples from the land of Uncle Sam in our fridge and pantry: a jar of Kraft's Real Mayonnaise, a tub of Kraft's Grated Parmesan Cheese, a jar of Ragu's Classic Alfredo Sauce, a box of Barilla pasta, a small bottle of EVOO, and a small jar of crushed oregano (yes, several of the ingredients are Italian, but we regularly cooked with them at home in LA. After all, pasta has become as American as ~~apple pie~~ pizza!).

Buttermilk pancakes or bubur ayam for breakfast? Homemade pasta alfredo one night, ketoprak from a street vendor the next. Variety is the spice of life!

PASSION Jakarta 2008

2008-08-06T12:07:00.012+07:00

I've been following the music of Passion since 1998 and had led worship using many of their songs, but it took ten years and returning to Indonesia 'for good' for me to attend one of their live concerts (well, it was more than a concert). And on top on that, I actually got to meet some of the Passion people in person! Granted it was a very brief encounter, but very memorable nonetheless.

It's interesting to note that prior to this event, Passion - both in relations to its music and as a movement among college students - was not widely known in Indonesia. The most familiar figure in Passion's roster to most Indonesians was Chris Tomlin, largely due to his well-known song "How Great is Our God".

Jakarta was the last Southeast Asian city (after Manila and Kuala Lumpur) in the second leg of Passion World Tour 2008. The ticket sales, though seemed a bit slow in the beginning, rapidly built up steam in the few weeks leading up to the concert date of August 5, 2008. About a week before D-day, I got the notice that the venue had to be moved from Tennis Indoor Senayan (capacity: 3000) to another arena with more than twice the capacity: Istora Senayan. Thank goodness it was moved there! It was a very full house on Tuesday night with more than 7000 people filling up every seat from the floor to the top tiers. Most came from Jakarta, but there were also six busloads of people from Bandung, plus countless others from other cities.

You can check out Passion's official blog on their impressions of what happened in Jakarta, and also read the 550+ comments (at the time of this writing) that have already been posted in less than 24 hours after the end of the concert last night. There seems to be a friendly competition on how many 'comments' a post could generate (yes, Louie, I guess Indonesians are a bit 'blog-happy'!).

As many hundreds others have commented on Passion's official blog, the night was awe-inspiring. It was four hours of powerful praise and worship led by Chris Tomlin and Charlie Hall, and life-changing word from Louie Giglio (with Sidney translating for him) about God's grace and being a 'fruitcake' (... you had to be there). Then Louie and Chris led 7000+ voices in intercession by singing "God of This City" while the giant screens displayed snapshots of Jakarta... "greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done in this city..."

Below is a very short clip I posted on YouTube, please excuse the quality of the video, as I shot the footage using the 'video mode' on my photo camera, not with a bonafide camcorder :). This was toward the end of the night as Chris Tomlin reprised the song he sang earlier, and despite the late hour the crowd was even more enthusiastic than before!

We will sing, sing, sing... and make music with the heavens
We will sing, sing, sing ... grateful that You hear us
When we shout Your praise, lift high the name of Jesus!

Below are photos taken backstage after the event wrapped up around 11:00 PM:

With Louie Giglio (the founder and leader of the Passion Movement),
my sister-in-law Etha, and my hubby Bern.

With Sidney and Charlie Hall,
a worship leader who has been with Passion since the beginning.
Charlie does have some cool-looking earrings
...and the longest goatee I've ever seen :)

Chris Tomlin!!!

There are also a few more photos from this night on my Facebook page.

This is our God

2008-07-23T16:57:00.018+07:00

UPDATE (August 25, 2008): several weeks after I wrote the post below, Mike Guglielmucci confessed that he had faked his terminal cancer.

From afar he looks like just another man on the stage reading from a Bible as he quotes Isaiah 53:1-5. But closer zooms on this man's face reveal a pair of thin plastic tubes attached to his nostrils, delivering oxygen from a tank that lays on the stage behind him. His name is Mike Guglielmucci and he's battling an aggressive cancer.

After he emphatically declares "by His stripes we are healed!", he picks up his guitar. Then, together with the Hillsong team, he leads thousands of worshippers in "Healer", a song that he wrote after he was first diagnosed with terminal cancer.

"I believe You're my Healer, I believe You're more than enough for me..." Those lyrics take a whole different dimension, poignancy and anointing when sung by the author himself, who's clearly and visibly still waiting in faith for his healing. It humbles you. It breaks your heart. What faith, what determination to keep worshiping in the midst of a painful trial! This, for me, is one of those songs that just grab you by the throat (and spirit and soul) and don't let go.

This segment is just one of a few defining moments in Hillsong's new live album This is Our God. No, this is not a review of the album. Those of you who know me from the church in Claremont know that I've been a fan of Hillsong since the beginning, but this recording, together with its accompanying DVD, contains something different than its predecessors. I just like to share it with you.

In addition to Mike Guglielmucci, there's also a powerful testimony from Jill McCloghry, another worship leader featured in this album. She was only six months pregnant when she unexpectedly went into labor and gave birth prematurely to a baby boy, who died 24 hours later. That tragic loss happened only one and a half week before the recording.

Go ahead, read that last paragraph again.

The fact that she still went ahead to stand on that stage and lead God's people in worship was her decision not to let the enemy have the last say on this matter. "This is my prayer in the fire, in weakness or trial or pain. There is a faith proved of more worth than gold, so refine me, Lord, through the flame" (from "Desert Song").

The word 'crucible' keeps popping in my head as I listened to these songs. The dictionary defines crucible as 1. a container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperatures. 2. a situation of severe trial, or in which different elements interact to produce something new. This word also has its root in the Latin crux, which means 'cross'.

Note: testimonies from Mike, Jill and also Joel Houston, Darlene Zscech and Brooke Fraser are found in the section titled "In Every Season" in the DVD. The DVD also shows another indelible moment that happened toward the end, after almost all of the singers and musicians stepped off the stage. Go find out for yourself :)

Proud Mama

2008-06-23T08:57:00.004+07:00

Last Sunday afternoon after church we were having a late lunch in a restaurant. It was just the three of us: Bern, myself and Stanley. Brennan stayed at home with the nanny. Bern and I were still halfway through our meals, but Stanley was done with his and typical of a boy his age, he was getting restless.

"Let's go home, Mama... I miss Brennan!" he exclaimed out of the blue.

"You miss Brennan?" I replied, both surprised and pleased at his adorable 'declaration'.

"Yes, I miss Brennan... let's go home!"

Bern and I looked at each other and grinned.

I laughed and said, "Stanley, you're cute, you know that?"

Stanley smiled, embarrassed, "No, Mama... don't laugh... Mama diem ya!"

I couldn't help laughing even more, not to embarrass my son, but because he was getting more adorable!

"Now you're even cuter, Stanley!"

I'm sure for those of you parents reading this, you could identify with me at how your heart just swells with love and pride when your child said or did something delightful, especially if he or she did so without being prompted!

After lunch we didn't go home right away, we ended up taking Stanley to a movie theater for his first time ever! The movie? "Kung Fu Panda", of course! (it's a hilarious, heart-warming and exquisitely animated tale -- that's my one-line review, go see it if you haven't). Even though initially Stanley was nodding off to sleep while waiting for Papa to buy the tickets, he stayed awake throughout the whole movie!

When we finally arrived home, Stanley ran to find his little brother he missed earlier in the day... and for the rest of the evening, they played together, chased and wrestled one another and their Papa, squabbled over toys... just being their (mostly) adorable selves.

At your fingertips...

2008-06-05T13:52:00.012+07:00

When I graduated from UC Irvine in 1993, the 'World Wide Web' was still ~~in its infancy~~ being birthed. Oh yes, computers were already common — I had already been using one for a few years then — but I didn't know anyone, including me, who had an 'e-mail address'. Words like websites, URL, blogs and download were still years away from entering the vernacular vocabulary.

Yeah, I know... how quaint. (Given that you're old enough to remember those days...)

As students we still had to find 'information' in the 'old-fashioned' way shown in the beginning of the video above*: thumbing through index cards housed in tiny drawers, then finding the book through a maze of library shelves. (Don't get me wrong, I still love libraries, bookstores and books!) I also remember spending a lot of research time in the microfiche room in the basement of UCI's Main Library, scrolling through and reading countless archived articles and academic journals.

Microfiche?

If you don't know what that means, or simply too young to know what it is (sheesh...), just Google it or look it up in Wikipedia. Or just click the word itself. The video also contains a segment of a person using the microfiche 'system'. I first thought of writing the definition here, but hey... there's another way of doing it now.

Back to 1993. As we were nearing graduation, the professors in my department took the students to their new office which was furnished with the latest computer technology. We were told to stand around this one computer monitor as one of the professors typed something in and explained that what they were doing now was accessing a series of image from the U.S. Library of Congress, thousands of miles away in Washington DC. It was clear from the professor's tone of voice that she was both excited and in awe of this new breakthrough.

As we watched the 'running dog' cursor (remember that? ... no? nevermind...), the data slowly trickled in, and images of antique illustrated books appeared on the monitor (we were in the Classics Department, after all). All of us students 'ooh and aah-ed', similarly awed as the professors, because we were able to 'see' these artworks that were stored in the database of the U.S. Library of Congress. Up to that time the only way anyone could see these rare illustrations was through books that had the photographs, or by visiting the Library of Congress in person if those artworks were on public display (most likely they were in storage).

Little did I realize then that what I just witnessed in my professor's office was the beginning of a 'revolution'.

It's now 2008. I myself don't know what to do if I don't have ready access to the Web or the Internet (I know they're not exactly the same thing, but I'll use these two terms interchangeably here). For the past several years it has been an integral and crucial part of how I work, how I communicate with friends and colleagues (e-mail, chat, Facebook, Skype, Picasa, and even this blog), how I find information (yes, I Google everything and I use Wikipedia to find out almost everything from the mundane to the complex), how I get the latest news from around the world, how I educate myself, how I buy certain items, how I get entertained (YouTube, online games, iTunes, etc.), and on and on. The 'list' is endless...

Fifteen years after my first glimpse of the 'Web' as a college student, my two young sons — Stanley and Brennan — will never know a world without the Web/Internet. The world, as they know now and will experience more fully as they grow up, is already changed by this 'revolution', and will continue to be changed and shaped by it.

This wealth of 'information' and the ease of accessing it is truly mindboggling. I, for one, am enjoying every bit of it. But I am also reminded of this quote I read sometime ago: "knowledge is not equal to revelation". How this 'wealth' is processed and utilized is still in the hands of the person mining it.

"The reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is the beginning and the principal and choice part of knowledge [its starting point and its essence]..."
Proverbs 1:7a, Amplified Bible.

*Thanks to Kenny who alerted me to this video in the first place!

Trip to Bandung

2008-05-17T11:10:00.007+07:00

Last week the whole family took a trip to Bandung, now just a short two-hour drive from Jakarta. I knew I went to Bandung as a little kid, but had completely forgotten any details of it. Nowadays Bandung is more famous as a shopping and food haven, so I went there with anticipation for those things :)

The drive on the toll-road went smoothly, the landscape gradually changed to green hills and terraced paddies as we got farther away from Jakarta.

When we arrived in Bandung I immediately fell in love with the cooler weather. Our old friends from Los Angeles who had moved back to Bandung several years ago, Hendra and Nathalia, then drove us to their villa at Dago Pakar which would be our 'home' for the next few days. So we made our way up the hill on Dago Street, one of the city's more famous thoroughfares.

The weather was even cooler at the villa! Oh... the delicious cool air, like a fine spring morning in southern California! I was overjoyed, it was the first time since we returned to Indonesia in January that I could enjoy the 'fresh' air without the help of A/C. The panoramic view from the balcony overlooking the city below was stunning! Over the next few days sometimes I would just sit by the open windows and relished the cool gentle breezes.

I visited some of Bandung's famous FOs (Fashion Outlets) and other stores, but ended up only buying snacks to bring back! :D

Below is a slideshow of the photos we took in Bandung. It should play automatically, or you can also click it or here, which will take you to my Picasa Web Album page.

The pleasures of childhood... play time and ice cream!

2008-05-04T13:19:00.006+07:00

In LA Stanley rode around the backyard in a yellow Hummer,
here in Jakarta it's a motorcycle, like so many others in this city!
And it's police bike to boot, great for clearing out the congested streets ahead :)

Yuuummmmmm....!!!

Brennan posing for the camera like a pro...

Ethan watched expectantly from Oma Tilly's lap

at Stanley's ice cream...
don't worry, Ethan, yours is coming!

This is no Photoshop trick...
first Stanley wanted chocolate ice cream,
then immediately after he finished that,
he asked for the 'pink' one (strawberry)... life's good!
(No, we don't spoil him like this everyday!)

There and Back Again...

2008-04-25T15:42:00.013+07:00

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. ... The best rooms were all on the lefthand side... for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river." (from the opening paragraphs of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien)

So the tale of how 'a Baggins had an adventure' begins.

And today, April 25 -- the same date as 'one morning long ago in the quiet of the world' when Gandalf came to Bilbo Baggins -- marks the start of another adventure of sorts for Tolkien fans around the globe (I am one of them): the director, and thus the definite production, of "The Hobbit" movie has been officially announced!

This reminds me of the excitement and giddy anticipation that the fans had back in 1999 at the start of production for "The Lord of the Rings". But you don't have to worry, friends, I won't turn this blog into "The Hobbit movie" blog :). I just want to commemorate this day for myself on this blog, for as for most things Tolkien, this definitely falls into something that 'interests me, intrigues me, makes me smile, and makes me wonder...'

Sight for sore eyes

2008-04-19T09:24:00.014+07:00

What a relief to the eyes are these rice paddies and green countryside after the daily onslaught by the dingy, polluted and crammed Jakarta!

After about 90 minutes of driving eastward from the capital, wide expanses of sawah (rice paddies) opened up the landscape. Buildings and homes became very sparsely spaced along the road. The rice paddies undulated with the gentle hills, shaped into wide terraces on their slopes. Some, like the ones above, were being prepared to be replanted, while others have become soft green patches from neat rows of rice shoots. As we drove further into the countryside, tall sharp hills formed out of the mist, lending a more mystical feel to the scenery.

And how lush everything was! The road was the only gray thing snaking through the landscape, everything else was either green vegetation or red fertile soil. I haven't seen such view with my own two eyes for a long, long time.

We took a turn from the main road (which was only two-lane) and into a recently paved one-lane path deeper into a village in a small valley, surrounded in all directions by rice paddies. We turned off the AC and rolled down all four windows, enjoying the fresh, unpolluted air. Not a chance of doing that in Jakarta, unless you want to breathe in the toxic exhaust from all the vehicles in front of you. Needless to say, the 'traffic' here is almost non-existent. We did share the road with a few critters (below) that roamed free throughout the village and rice paddies.

But, as much as I enjoyed this beautiful countryside, it still falls into "it's a nice place to visit, but I don't want to live there" category!

This view below, however, was from our very own backyard in Ontario, California. It was sometime in December 2007, just a few weeks before we returned to Indonesia. A cold winter storm blew over southern California over a period of a few days (oh, how I enjoyed that!) and when the storm clouds parted, they revealed this absolutely gorgeous view of the snow-covered mountain ranges. The sky and the very air felt freshly 'scrubbed'. How I miss that home (sigh)...

Voilà!

2008-04-10T16:09:00.011+07:00

Hi friends, you didn't come to the wrong blog... it's still me! I just felt a makeover was due for this site, so here's the new look. And if you know me well enough, you'll recognize it still incorporates my favorite color (celadon) and the banner also represents a few of my 'favorite things'.

Hope you like it!

A California institution

2008-04-09T17:54:00.010+07:00

Since I'm on a roll here with posting photos, especially those of food, here's my tribute to In-n-Out Burgers. This burger chain (it's not a franchise) is definitely one of the best perks of living in California. Its birthplace is in the Los Angeles area and California is still just one of four states where you can find them. In-n-Out cheeseburger is one of very few American food that I miss... and all of this beefy cheesy goodness plus a side of freshly cut french fries (yummmmm...) and a drink only set you back less than five bucks!

We made it a point to enjoy this a few days before we left LA. So here's our last In-n-Out cheeseburger (with grilled onions) from the drive-thru on Indian Hill Boulevard near Claremont CBC:

2008-04-07T11:43:00.004+07:00

Okay... I know it's been almost three weeks since my last post. I'm a bit overwhelmed here because Brennan's nanny went home to her village to get married. We're still trying to find another nanny to replace her and another servant, which nowadays is harder than you might think.

So below are two posts containing mostly photos... enjoy!

The boys are growing up fast!

2008-04-07T11:23:00.004+07:00

Big brother Stanley feeds Brennan some yogurt (one of their most favorite snacks).

"I better finish this before Brennan wants more..."

Me and my four front teeth... more are coming!

Try not to drool on your keyboard...

2008-04-06T18:50:00.026+07:00

Just a very tiny sampling of the food we've tasted so far...

Pisang goreng (deep-fried bananas) in the background with the croquette-like combro, which is made from cassava with a spicy savory filling made with oncom, chili pepper and other spices.

A delicious twist on the deep-fried squid at a modern Chinese restaurant: the unique batter is made from salted eggs. It's not as salty as you might think, but I could definitely taste the egg yolk ... boy oh boy, pile on the cholesterol!

A serving of Sate Padang from a vendor that sells only this dish. There are just two choices: beef and/or beef tongue. The plate comes with slices of lontong (rice cooked into dense patties), then everything gets smothered with the savory yellow sauce that defines this dish, finished off with a sprinkling of deep-fried shallots ... oooh... soooo... gooooood!

The ultimate and definitive Indonesian condiment: the sambal or chili sauce! No meal is complete without at least one type of sambal, and there are innumerable recipes and variations from every region. The three sambals pictured above are the selections from a restaurant called Bumbu Desa, which serves traditional West Javanese/Sundanese 'desa' (village) food. This restaurant has become one of our favorites!

This rujak ulek cart is one of many street food vendors that can be found right outside the house. Rujak is Indonesia's fruit salad with a sauce made from peanuts, palm sugar, chili, and sometimes terasi (fermented shrimp paste). This vendor only charges Rp.5000 (about fifty cents) per plate, he'll make yours to order, just choose from a variety of fresh fruit: mango, papaya, pineapple, jicama, kedondong (I don't know the English word for it), and yam (I know it's a veggie, not fruit!). You also need to tell him how spicy you want your peanut sauce to be!

This is 'rotbar' or roti bakar (literally, grilled bread). This version has sliced bananas and chocolate sprinkles sandwiched between thick slabs of white bread, which is then grilled and topped off with shredded cheese and a swirl of sweet condensed milk. Other fillings include tape singkong (fermented cassava, it tastes way better than it sounds!), srikaya (a 'jam' made with coconut milk and eggs) , strawberry jam, etc. Rotbar is perfect with tea and ... coffee, of course!

Saving the best for last: martabak manis! Rich, chewy, super thick 'pancakes' folded over chocolate, cheese, peanuts, sesame seed and sweet condensed milk (front slice), or just with the cheese and milk (just as yummy!). Think of it as crêpes on steroids, mixed with a hefty dose of margarine :D ... oh yeah!

What I've learned so far in Jakarta, part 2

2008-03-18T16:19:00.017+07:00

Continuing the lessons I've learned so far...

Never, ever set foot in a supermarket on a weekend early in the month. The combination of 'just got paid (gajian) at the end of the month' and the leisurely weekend create a crush of humanity in most shops and supermarkets. We didn't realize that until we went to Carrefour (it's like WalMart and a supermarket rolled into one superstore) on the first of this month, which fell on a Saturday. We only had several items, but getting to the cashier proved to be a painstakingly long process. Ridiculously long lines snaking into the product aisles jammed every open cashier. It took us over one hour to check out. It was like shopping on Black Friday, the day-after-Thanksgiving shopping madness in the U.S. And wouldn't you know it, right before it was our turn at the checkout, a lady slipped in front of us with just one item (a hairbrush) to purchase. At first she asked the lady in front of me who was paying for her items to include the hairbrush in the purchase, offering her the cash to pay for it. But the other lady just ignored her. And the hairbrush lady, instead of turning to me (who had patiently and properly waited my turn for an hour) to ask for permission or at least offer an apology for cutting the line, just weakly smiled at me and said nothing, acting like there's nothing wrong at all. I would let her pay ahead of me anyway, but the fact that she didn't even ask me is what bugged me the most. Yes, I did let her pay ahead of me, but I just rolled my eyes, then stared icily at her and said nothing also (although I did think of some words to say...). And this incident just underlined another 'thing' I've learned here, that...

99.99% of Indonesians have no grasp of the concept of 'waiting in line' or 'waiting your turn' (don't quote me on the number, it's not based on any solid research, it just seems like it!) Yes, some people in some places do wait in line, but it's far from second nature or the culture here.

Another unknown concept here is 'personal space' ... those who do wait in line behind you do so almost breathing down your neck. Forget about maintaining a polite distance from the other customer. My theory is that if there's even a slightest gap in the line they're afraid another person would cut into it ... (sigh...)

What I've learned so far in Jakarta...

2008-03-12T19:51:00.012+07:00

I've been here for almost two months and here are some of the things I've found out, in no particular order:

Don't talk on your cell phone when you stop at an intersection or got stuck in a traffic jam. Or you'll risk being robbed of your phone at 'ax' point. A notorious street gang called "Kapak Merah" (Red Ax, because their signature weapon is a red-painted ax) is supposedly responsible for these incidents in several crime-infested areas. A group of them will swarm the victim's car, bang on the windows, terrifying the victim into giving up the phone. If you don't want to give it up, they'll break the car windows and you'll risk bodily injury. Several people have warned us about this, including a few of our relatives who've experienced it first hand (thank goodness they were not harmed). A few taxi drivers also reiterated this. But here's what's more unbelievable: usually no other drivers are willing to step out to help the victim even as they witnessed the robbery unfolding before their eyes! One taxi driver was concerned enough that he politely asked me to put away my phone as we were approaching a red light at an intersection.

There's no such thing as 'a glass of water' in any restaurant. You need to order bottled water (or other beverages). Or you'll risk diarrhea.

There's an unlisted and unwritten service price/fee called "Terserah Ibu/Bapak" ("Up to you, Ma'am/Sir"). This 'fee' is more commonly found in a government office... ehm...

A public restroom with a baby-changing station is very, very rare. I've only found one so far, and that's in a super posh and luxurious mall.

Never order the Meat-Lover's pizza from Pizza Hut in Indonesia, because it's a truly sorry excuse for a pizza. To conform to the halal (the Muslims' definition of kosher) food standard here, all of the ingredients made with pork are substituted with beef or chicken product. So instead of the succulent goodness of pork sausage, pepperoni, bacon and ham -- the very things that make us crave for a Meat-Lover's -- they top it with unnaturally neon pink slices of chicken hot dog (uhuh...) and a pallid beef pepperoni (I think), some shredded chicken meat, and other stuff I can't really identify. A very pathetic pizza that one.

And I still have to learn a lot more things ...

Buzzzzzz....

2008-03-10T15:27:00.006+07:00

With Papa as their barber, last Sunday the boys get their hair cut for the first time in Indonesia.

It's clip#1 for Stanley, #7 for Brennan...

Before...

... after!

This is definitely NOT 'Muzak'

2008-03-05T13:29:00.001+07:00

I was shopping for groceries by myself at 99 Farmers Market (known as 99 Ranch Market in LA) at the ground floor of Mal Kelapa Gading (MKG) yesterday. As I wheeled the cart down the aisle looking for diapers, I was thinking to myself that the music being piped through the PA system sounds familiar (I never paid much attention to a supermarket's background music, or 'Muzak', which is mostly forgettable, easy-listening instrumental songs).

Then I realized it's the chorus I've sung so many times, "Forever God is faithful, forever God is strong, forever God is with us, forever..."

I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least!

Then as I made my way to the shampoo and conditioner aisle, "God of Wonders" was played. As I continued shopping (I took a leisurely 45 minutes :), I was continually accompanied by familiar worship songs such as "I Could Sing of Your Love", "Open the Eyes of My Heart", "Heart of Worship", etc. Most of these were not performed by the original or well-known Christian artists, but the version of "Power of Your Love" was by the original: Darlene Zschech and Hillsong!

Remember, I was in a regular supermarket in Jakarta, not a Christian bookstore. As in most other stores in this city, people of all ethnic groups and religions mingled freely. Muslim women in jilbab (head coverings) also shop in 99.

So I was singing along with these songs that glorified the name of Jesus as I was picking up eggs, carrots, brocolli, bread, butter, etc. ... here in 99 Farmers Market in Jakarta! (and it wasn't Christmas season either)

It never happened in Albertsons or Ralphs ... and which country has more Christians? Go figure...

Life goes on...

2008-03-03T17:16:00.000+07:00

When you read the postings below, you'll see that the photos of my young sons are immediately preceded by a posting of their Grandpa's passing. It's not by coincidence.

Having come home to Jakarta after a lifetime away in the U.S., I was immediately immersed in another life. Life that's more intense. Life that's paced slower than the one I left, yet more immediate and fierce at the same time.

The passing away of my father and knowing that his older siblings had also gone before him just in the last few years made us painfully aware of the passing of a generation. Of mortality. Of life. Of what kind of legacy we choose to leave to the next generation.

Let's play!

2008-03-03T17:02:00.000+07:00

Stanley had a blast crawling, climbing and sliding...
that's what a little boy does best!

Ready to launch!
Get set: three... two... one...

Wheeeeeeeeeeee.....!!!!

Me, too!!

Look everyone... I'm a toddler now!

2008-03-03T16:42:00.000+07:00

Brennan's been taking more steps and is walking farther everyday!

(oh, he also has three teeth, with the fourth one almost coming through...)

Practice steps... one, two, three...

Hey, I found another use for my feet ... steering the Batmobile!
How's that for eyes-and-limbs coordination!

A kiss and a bear hug from Papa

Farewell, Papa... until we meet again

2008-03-01T12:06:00.000+07:00

My father passed away in the wee hours of Wednesday, February 27, 2008 after months of hospitalization because of complications from heart disease, diabetes, high-blood pressures and strokes. He spent the last two weeks of his life in the ICU, unconscious but visibly suffering.

I am very thankful to the Lord that He granted my prayers from years ago to allow me to see my dad before he passed away (we had our first ‘scare’ a few years ago when he had his first stroke and he had been hospitalized many times since then). Since we came back to Jakarta on January 20, my dad also had the chance to meet his son-in-law, Bern, and his two grandsons, Stanley and Brennan, when he was still conscious and was able to communicate (and joke around! My dad had a great sense of humor and he would make people laugh even from his hospital bed).

My father loved life and loved his family, and in return he was much loved by so many others, not only by us in his immediate family, but also by members of the extended Mohede family. Many of my cousins wept like they lost their own father. Other relatives, friends and neighbors also came out in droves to pay their last respect. He was a generous man, in his love for his family, in helping others in need, in lending his ears, in his laughter and in his appetite (it's a running joke within our family... :)

Our only comfort is knowing that Papa is now with his Heavenly Father and he’s free from his sufferings.

So goodbye, Papa… we love you so much and we miss you and your laughter. Until we meet again…

My dad holding me as a baby... as his firstborn and daughter, I grew up as 'daddy's girl'. Now you know where I (and my brother and my sister) got our round face and chubby cheeks from! We all joke that we already know how Sidney will look like when he grows older.

Where do you want to go?

2008-02-22T14:51:00.000+07:00

Italy: Rome, so I can see and experience first hand the ancient city that I spent a few years studying, the seat of a civilization that cast its influence so deep and wide over all of the western world; then Tuscany, for its gastronomical pleasures and bucolic landscape (Tuscany captured my heart through "Under the Tuscan Sun", the book, not the movie). And maybe Venice...

France: Paris, of course... to actually sit and enjoy a meal in a Parisian bistro, tasting genuine French cheeses and butter. Then visiting the Provencal countryside and farmers markets...

New Zealand: to walk through 'Middle-Earth' and one of the last breathtaking wonders of this earth...

And how I wish there's an actual Rivendell to visit, a valley filled with the waning glory and beauty of the last bastion of the Eldar...

That's just a short list of where I'd like to travel... and why...

How about you?

A very 'colorful' bird... in more ways than one!

2008-02-19T15:07:00.000+07:00

Nobody even bothered to give it a name even though this ‘nuri’ bird has been part of the household for many years. Its home is a cage on the front yard of the house we’re living in.

The flash of the camera revealed more of the brilliant hues of its plumage than what the naked eyes see. It seems to love human company (it approached me every time I aimed my camera at it) and it has the ability to mimic a variety of sounds that it picked up from all the noise and activities around the house and street.

Because the house is located on a busy intersection, on my first few days here I heard what I thought was lots of cars with faulty brakes that produced those high-pitched squeaks when you step on them. Then I realized it was the nuri that was making the noise. At other times the bird would accurately imitate another type of ‘squeak’: that of a rusty metal hinge (where’s the WD-40?). Another mechanical sound it would imitate is a car alarm (it gets really annoying after a while).

When Bern’s uncle arrives home from work in the evening, the man and the bird usually do a ‘duet’, whistling back-and-forth the other’s ‘melody’.

Sometimes the nuri would also start whistling by itself, sounding very much like a man who’s whistling a random tune in his head.

But this is what made me laughed the first time I heard it (and I wondered, “Did I just hear what I think the bird just said?”): the nuri would first let out a whistle like a man ‘cat-calling’ a pretty girl walking by… then it would distinctly call out with a particular intonation: “ce…wek!”*

Go figure!

* I don’t know how to accurately translate that into English, ‘cewek’ is simply the vernacular for ‘woman/girl/female’, but it’s how you say it that gives it another layer of meaning…

Land of Extremes - part 1

2008-02-13T21:00:00.000+07:00

Living in Jakarta is to experience the extremes on almost a daily basis.

On one hand, food, entertainment and ways to be pampered are plentiful and extremely affordable. Moreover, you also have the time to enjoy those things because you have servants to take care of the household chores… or babysit your kids :)

But there’s the other side of the coin and as much a reality as the good parts: dense population, horrendous traffic, heavy pollution, dirty waterways, regular flooding whenever it rains heavily… oh, and don’t forget the mosquitoes!

In previous posts I’ve written about the amazing variety and affordability of food here (especially here in Kelapa Gading, Jakarta’s “Food Heaven”). Most of the foods and restaurant chains in the United States are available in Jakarta. And then there are the other stuff not available in the States: authentic, traditional and regional Indonesian dishes and snacks (jajanan), plus other innovative culinary creations you can't find in the U.S.

If I do ever ‘crave’ something from the U.S., it will be this: a great piece of steak from a properly aged U.S. beef, perfectly cooked to a melt-in-your-mouth medium rare, adorned with nothing but salt and freshly cracked black pepper. Most Indonesians somehow preferred their steak (with beef originated from who-knows-where) very well-done… why bother? But I digress. There are steak houses in Jakarta (there’s even a Lawry’s here, but I’m not much of a prime-rib fan), but I don’t know how much they cost or if the beef is on par with the U.S.

Other ‘indulgences’ available here, especially for the ladies, are the creambath and the myriad of ‘spa’ treatments. I actually hesitate to even call them ‘indulgences’, because these pamperings are very affordable and a lot of women do them on a regular basis. And if you’re wondering (as some of you had asked), yes, I had a creambath for the first time in my life. A creambath is usually a two-hour long session where your hair is washed, then deep-conditioned (while your scalp is being massaged), then as the leave-in conditioner is doing its job, the attendant moisturized and massaged your neck, shoulders, back, arms, hands, legs and feet. After your hair is rinsed, it’s blow-dried and styled. And the cost for this two-hour mini vacation? About US$6 (that’s not a typo), tips included. A similar two-hour treatment in the U.S. would be out of my reach at a few hundred dollars, and also because of the time that I couldn’t spare as a mother of a toddler and a baby.

A two-hour full-body massage or a traditional lulur treatment also cost about the same as the creambath. Amazing, huh?

So, yes, I’m loving those perks … but… (click here for part two)

Land of Extremes - part 2

2008-02-13T17:04:00.000+07:00

(scroll up to read part 1)

But… there’s always ‘but’… there’s also the opposite side of the spectrum. I’ve already written about the stress-inducing traffic in an earlier post. What I noticed also is the lack of stop signs or stop lights in most intersections, even major ones. So who has the right of way in those situations? Everyone! It seems the rule of thumb is ‘menyerobot atau diserobot’ (either you cut off the other guy, or you got cut off) ... no wonder the traffic is so chaotic! But ‘cutting off’ the other driver is a way of life here, nobody gets angry or give you the finger… hehehehe… but they do regularly use the car horn!

Jakarta is also one of the densest city in the world. There are people … a lot of people, everywhere you look … on the streets, on motorcycles, packing up the buses and ‘angkots’, just sitting around and loitering about. The houses in most areas are tightly packed with one another, sharing the walls on three sides with neighbors (the only ‘wall’ you’re not sharing is the one facing the street). If you want a front yard or a backyard, good luck…

The extreme disparity in living conditions and public areas/facilities still shock me. The size and condition of the streets vary greatly from one neighborhood to another. Sometime to reach an area with nice homes you have to go through ‘kampungs’ with potholed streets so narrow that two cars can barely fit side-to-side. Even though physically they are just blocks apart, the houses and shops lining those tiny ‘kampung’ streets are a world away from the luxurious gated homes.

Then there are the high-end malls, as of now there are four or five of them in Jakarta (Senayan City, Plaza Indonesia, Grand Indonesia, Pacific Place, etc.), and they’re building more! And I’m not talking about just any mall (regular malls are a dime a dozen here). These are super luxurious shopping centers that could beat OC’s South Coast Plaza hands down. We’re talking marble floors and beautifully (and expensively) designed shopper’s haven lined with stores from designers like Gucci, Chanel, Bottega Venetta, Armani, Louis Vuitton, etc. You don’t find those stores in your average American mall! But just blocks away from those monuments of upper-class spending power you’ll find pockets of ‘kampungs’ (yes, right in the midst of Jakarta’s modern skyscrapers) with tiny streets and tiny ramshackle homes. The opposite ends of the economic spectrum can be found within the same square kilometer.

It’s very jarring. My mind still can’t fully comprehend it.

But that’s just the way things are in Jakarta. On our first week here we saw a shiny new Jaguar on the streets. Why you would even drive such a car in Jakarta’s traffic is also beyond my comprehension!

Now let’s talk about the bathrooms… ah, the bathrooms! Going to any public restrooms other than those found in upscale malls or office buildings still gross me out (I’m still getting used to the fact that most bathrooms don’t have toilet papers! Hint: always carry some with you). Even in most private homes, the bathrooms consist of only a toilet and a large rectangular concrete basin to hold the water, plus the ubiquitous ‘gayung’. The tiled floor is almost always wet (another thing I’m still not comfortable with, but… you gotta do what you gotta do). The sink/vanity is located outside the bathroom (I still don’t get the logic of that). When we get to move to our own place, both Bern and I are hoping for an American style bathroom, meaning the floor stays clean and dry, with a toilet (and toilet paper!!!), a shower stall and the sink/vanity inside. The point is (especially for all my friends in the U.S.): don’t take a basic thing like a standard American bathroom for granted. I surely and sorely miss it…

Oh, well… that’s a slice of life in Jakarta so far, both the good and the bad!

Photos update!

2008-02-11T13:10:00.001+07:00

Here are a few photos of how the boys are doing in Jakarta, which is quite well!

But from time-to-time Stanley still says to me and Bern: "Let's go home, Mama/Papa". Well, Stanley, I miss 'home', too... but we can't go back there, at least not yet...

I wish I could post more photos more frequently, but the slow internet connection here makes uploading them quite a long task...

Stanley, Brennan and Tina (Brennan's nanny ... yay!),
having fun in the "Wild Zone",
which is an arcade (ie. "Gameworks") combined with a few rides
for small children. Brennan loved this ride so much,
he didn't want to get off at the end of it!

Brennan can now walk a couple of steps at a time.
He learns much like Stanley did: by pushing a light chair.
He also now has two bottom teeth!

Brennan met Opa Sanny (my dad) for the first time.
As I've written in a previous post,
my dad has been hospitalized since early January.

Surrounded by Oma Vero, Opa Richard (Bern's parents)
and Oma Tilly (my mom).

The following: Stanley, Ethan, Chelsea and Brennan
had fun splashing around on a hot day in a pool
set up on my brother's front yard

Two weeks in Jakarta...

2008-02-03T19:04:00.000+07:00

Today marks the fourteenth day we've been here.

So much has happened, so little has happened.

I've written some of them here, but since the blog page only displays the latest few blogs at a time, to check out the rest you'll need to scroll down and click 'Older Posts' at the bottom of this page. Or you can also choose from the months from the 'Blog Archive' column on the lower left.

Flooding update...

2008-02-02T10:24:00.000+07:00

It's 10:30 in the morning on Saturday, February 2. The rain had stopped almost 24 hours ago, but the water receded very slowly. Even now it's still about ankle-high on the street in front of the house.

The forecast is for more rainstorms for the whole next week. I just hope that the rain comes in short bursts, so that the water has time to drain out. If not, we're going to be in deep doodoo (literally...).

La cucaracha

2008-02-02T10:16:00.000+07:00

As the water level rose during yesterday’s rain, other critters were making their run to dry ground. Cockroaches (kecoa) the size of rats scampered out from their lairs.

Just kidding… they’re not rat-sized, but they are huge, about the size of your big toe. It’s the stuff of horror movies. Comparing the Indonesian kecoa to its dinky American counterpart is like comparing a hulking Lincoln Navigator SUV to a motorcycle. Make that a Navigator with wings... oh yes, it can fly, too.

Stanley was both fascinated and scared of the ‘big kecoa’. I’m just completely grossed out. The hairs on my arms stand, my stomach knots up, I scream and grab the nearest sandal to squash it. Uggghhh … a thousand times uggghhh…

And judging from the blood-curdling shrieks from Bern’s cousin every time she sees one, even people who have lived all their lives in Jakarta still can’t stand the kecoa!

Rising water level...

2008-02-01T14:39:00.001+07:00

It's 2:40 in the afternoon on Friday, February 1. The rain is subsiding, hopefully for good, after about 16 hours of steady downpour that started on Thursday evening. This is a tropical rain storm, much more intense than anything I'd experienced in southern California. Bursts of heavy rain came down like sheets of water.

The street in front of the house is flooded halfway up to mid-calves (see photo below). Passing cars send waves of dirty floodwater into the courtyard. There's nothing else we could do except sit and watch inside the house as the water on the street slowly inched up all morning long. It's a frustrating and helpless feeling. We're basically trapped inside the house, we couldn't go anywhere.

Bern tries to push back the water that come in waves generated by passing cars

Thankfully the water hasn't entered the house. For most of the morning people in the household were busy moving valuables on top of taller tables and drawers in anticipation of any flood. The deluge that devastated much of Jakarta last year is still fresh in their memory (the water inside the house was thigh-high in that 2007 flood).

The typical Jakarta traffic gridlock became more of a nightmare because of flooded streets everywhere. Soekarno-Hatta airport has been closed also, its reopening is pending on the weather.

But for now the rain has stopped. We could breathe a sigh of relief. But the forecast is for more rain for the upcoming week. Please pray that it won't flood anymore!

We haven't even been in Jakarta for two weeks... what a welcome package this city has prepared for us!

Family reunion

2008-01-31T20:51:00.000+07:00

A couple of days after we arrived in Jakarta I finally got to meet my nephew Ethan and niece Chelsea for the first time. At 2 years 9 months Ethan is six months younger than Stanley. His sister Chelsea is 20 months old.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that both my brother and I are parents! (we both became parents in our 30s)

Their first encounter with each other didn’t go too well… Stanley and Ethan got into each other’s face and into a shouting match. I think they were yelling each other’s favorite superhero or something. None of the adults quite understood what they were shouting so passionately about. Then while they were eating dinner, they got into a ‘finger pointing’ match. Ah, boys will be boys…

Then several days later, we had the Mohede siblings reunion at Sidney’s place: myself as the oldest, then Sidney, and Nova, the youngest. It was the first time in almost 13 years that all three of us are together again.

And also for the first time, my mom finally got to enjoy all four of her grandchildren at the same place, at the same time! In this second meeting Stanley and Ethan got along much better with each other.

Sidney with Chelsea, Sidney’s wife Etha with Stanley, and Ethan.

Tasting a slice of 'Food Heaven'

2008-01-31T17:49:00.000+07:00

On Thursday evening, January 31, together with about 15 members of Bern's family, we celebrated his aunt's birthday at Kelapa Gading's "Food City". It's an open air food court complete with a stage for a live band, ringed on three sides with small restaurants. But don't even compare this with the average 'food court' in an American mall with your boring corporate franchises ... the food here is authentic and so much more delicious!

The open air plaza with festive lights (in anticipation of Chinese New Year). It was a weeknight and the place was packed.

Here's a sampling of our feast:

Ikan gurame saus asem-manis
(deep fried 'gurame' fish with sweet-&-sour sauce)

Kepiting saus tiram
(crab with oyster sauce)

Kodok goreng saus mentega
(deep fried frog legs with butter sauce)
Ohhhh... soooo yummyyyyy...

The picture below is taken at another restaurant located on the 'Boulevard'. Brennan hungrily finished up the porridge being offered by Oma Vero. A few minutes before this he was chowing down the salted fish fried rice that I was feeding him (yes, you read that right... and Brennan's first tooth just barely broke the surface of his gum, but he's eating very, very well in Jakarta!).

An ode to the 57 Freeway

2008-01-29T11:25:00.000+07:00

Yes, I miss the 57 Freeway. I knew I was going to miss it even as I drove its stretches in my last few weeks in LA.

I love the spaciousness of the 57 and how for most of its length, you have clear views to the horizon. I especially savored the sights as I drove northbound, how the mountain ranges are already visible even when you’re still in Orange County.

The hills past Brea transport you to a more pastoral scene, especially when the grass are still green and herds of cows could be seen as you speed by 70 miles per hour.

The view opens up even more after the 57 crested past the Pathfinder exit. On clear winter days after heavy rains, just like on my last days in LA, the mountains are covered halfway down with snow.

Another reason I love the 57: it’s the main freeway connecting where I lived to my most favorite area in southern California… south Orange County!

I know the 57 is a virtual parking lot at rush hours, but if you’re reading this and you live in southern California and use the 57, don’t take it for granted (or at least, think of me... 'cuz the messy traffic and roads in Jakarta make me miss it even more... ).

The ultimate 'mashup' city

2008-01-29T11:17:00.000+07:00

One thing that struck me first and foremost about the city of Jakarta itself is ‘semrawut’ (messy, without order, etc.).

Take the buildings, for example. If there are any zoning codes, they don’t seem to be enforced. Old and new are mashed up together. Residential and commercial areas are intertwined. Luxury and poverty are closely juxtaposed. Ramshackle squatter huts no bigger than some walk-in closets sit in the shadow of large gated homes. You can see shantytowns built along a filthy river and new apartment skyscrapers in the same line of sight. Everywhere you look is a jumble of architectural styles (or lack of it), sometimes embodied in the same structure.

Of course, there are some nicely designed homes and buildings, but they are far and few in between. The newer, thoughtfully planned suburbs and communities like the ones in the U.S. are located just outside Jakarta, not in the city itself.

The roads are even messier and the traffic jams here are notorious. In addition to cars, trucks, busses and the sputtering bajaj, there are also more motorcycles than I’ve ever seen in my whole life. (There are no more becak in Jakarta, they have been banned). Even though small, the sheer number of motorcycles on the roads makes them a force to be reckoned with. The bike riders are as bold and aggressive as a car driver, if not more so. Because of their size, some motorcycles brazenly ignore the rules of the road, like going the opposite way on a one-way street!

The white lines painted on the street as lane dividers only serve as a suggestion as vehicles squeezed next to each other in number greater than available lanes. Some streets even lack painted lines!

All types of vehicles get within inches of each other, closer than anything I’ve seen or dared to do in the U.S., and I’ve been driving for almost 20 years! It’s hard for me or Bern not to flinch when we ride in a car. Even Bern, who had driven in Jakarta before he lived in LA, got stressed out with the traffic here. You’ll need nerve of steel and a very aggressive, almost combative attitude to drive in this city. And moreover, the streets themselves are too confusing. There are too many backstreets and shortcuts, defying any gridlines. I don’t know how an online mapping service like Googlemaps or Mapquest could give clear directions for a city like Jakarta. I think I’ll leave the driving to others first! (now I’m taking a loooong and a well-deserved break from being behind the wheel :) ).

At traffic lights, or wherever there’s a slow section of traffic, even pedestrians and street hawkers walked through casually among the cars. I held my breath as I saw a street hawker walked between a car and a truck that were inching toward each other – it looked like he could be crushed between them, but he seemed relaxed, and everyone else in the car didn’t seem to notice.

Well… that’s my impression on my first week here. I sorely miss the orderliness of living in the U.S. I guess I have to learn to live with the chaos that is Jakarta! Maybe in time I’ll learn to love it…

Life comes at you fast

2008-01-29T11:14:00.000+07:00

Three trips to the doctor. Three trips to the hospital. Repeated visits to the mortuary. A funeral. All within our first week in Jakarta.

On our first day (Monday) both Bern and I decided to go to the doctor because of the sore throats that had been bugging us since Los Angeles. We literally walked to the doctor’s office, that’s how close it was to the house. We were seen by the doctor within 15 minutes. The total doctor’s fee for both of us, plus the prescribed medicine? About $15… yup, only fifteen US dollars.

Our third visit to the doctor involves Brennan. He developed tiny red rashes all over his face and body on Friday. Thankfully there’s a children’s clinic nearby that stays open until midnight, so we took him there. Because Brennan was still active and had no fever, and he wasn’t itching, the most likely diagnosis is allergy. Oh yes, that eczema that he suffered in LA? Gone. The humidity here takes care of the dry skin that caused his eczema. But in its place there seems to be another allergic reaction. We still don’t know what the trigger is (dust? heat? food?), but with the prescribed medication his skin began to clear out by Monday.

As for the hospital visits, my father has been hospitalized since early January for complications from stroke, diabetes, heart condition, etc. It’s been almost 10 years since we last saw each other when he came to visit me in LA. This time, I’m married with two kids already, so my dad also met Bern as his son-in-law for the first time (they met each other briefly at Claremont CBC when my dad came to LA in 1998. Bern remembers it, but my dad doesn’t have any recollection of it). My second visit to see my dad was somewhat an emergency, the doctors had to perform a minor surgery to drain liquid from his lungs because he was having difficulty breathing. When I arrived there with Etha, my sister-in-law, the procedure was over and my dad was resting. Next to his bed were two bottles filled with the drained liquid, about 1 liter (about 1 quart) total! No wonder he had shortness of breath, that much liquid was filling up his lungs! My third visit was more relaxed and more poignant, because this was the first time in 23 years that Sidney, myself, and my father were in the same room together. The far-away daughter is finally back home. Stanley was also there to see his opa Sanny for the first time (Brennan was snoozing in the car with the nanny, and we weren’t supposed to bring children younger than 12 into the room, but the nurses made special exception for Stanley).

And as most of our friends in Los Angeles know, Bern’s cousin in Las Vegas passed away on January 9. The family brought his body home to be buried in Jakarta. From the time the body arrived on Wednesday, January 23, the activities in the Gatot Subroto Mortuary did not stop. The wake lasted several days until the interment on Sunday afternoon, January 27.

Then as we were having lunch with the extended family after the burial, we saw the news on TV: former President Suharto just passed away after a long illness.

Quite an eventful first week we’re having…

A mixed bag of realities

2008-01-24T10:37:00.000+07:00

The heat, the humidity. The horrendous traffic and hair-raising driving. The noise, the pollution. Yes, that’s all true and a reality of life in Jakarta.

But on the other hand there’s another reality: have I mentioned that we now have a nanny for Brennan? Yes, that’s right… a nanny for Brennan! (cue the “Hallelujah” chorus! A heavenly spotlight shines down… ). Bern’s mom already found us one before we came to Jakarta (thank you, Mami!). The nanny was already there in the house when we arrived from the airport, ready with a helping hand.

There’s also another lady who helps out with the laundry. Just give her the bagful of dirty clothes, the next day they’re returned to me ironed and folded, piled neatly in a basket (another “Hallelujah” chorus, please…). I was quite in disbelief when I first saw the basket. “Wow…” I thought, “This is soooo cool! I can really get used to this”… hahaha… (Ok, don’t get jealous now…)

So, to borrow McDonald’s advertising slogan… yeah… “I’m lovin’ it” …

Stanley doing bathtime "Indo-style"

Another cool thing about life in Jakarta: every morning around 7 AM, a deliveryman from a nearby bakery goes around the neighborhood on his motorcycle selling a variety of filled-breads/snacks. I bought breakfast from him a couple of times already, especially an old-time favorite of mine: ‘roti pisang coklat keju’ (bread filled with banana + cheese + chocolate). And to think I didn’t have to drive anywhere to get it… food vendors (or the tailor/tukang jahit, the cobbler, and many other types of vendors for that matter) make house calls, all at a fraction of what it would cost in LA! Yay!

As a matter of fact, a variety of street vendors (pisang goreng, tukang bakso, 'mie karet', etc.) set up their wares right outside the house and along the street. But for now we held ourselves from eating the street food because we don’t want to risk diarrhea (we're also heeding the advice from a few people to take a tablespoon of Pepto-Bismol every morning before we eat anything, just as a precaution). It’ll take some time for our tummies and immune system to fully adjust to the food here.

But on the other hand, I’m still getting used to being covered in sweat starting at six o’clock in the morning (yup, it’s that hot already that early in the day). Thank goodness our bedroom has A/C and also another room that we’re using as an office. I don’t think I could survive in this city without A/C! And I quickly got used to (and looked forward to) the traditional Indonesian-style bathtime: a big tub/basin of cold water + a gayung. It's a welcome relief from the stickiness!

Oh, by the way, we already experienced another reality of life in Jakarta: blackouts! Yup, this ibukota (mother city) promptly welcomed us with a blackout (mati lampu) lasting several hours in the middle of the afternoon on our third day here. Ugghhh…I was going crazy and I felt like melting away in the heat! Brennan got very cranky… poor kid, his hair was matted with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Usually we could escape to our air-conditioned bedroom, but there was no relief from the heat and humidity for several hours. Thank goodness the electricity came back on just before the sun went down.

So it’s a mixed bag here: several things you have to endure, other things come as a relief!

We'll find out what other surprises come in this bag... here's to our new life in Jakarta!

Stanley and Opa Richard (Bern's dad) checking out the scene right outside the house.
You're not in Ontario anymore, Stanley!

Food Heaven

2008-01-24T10:28:00.000+07:00

Food Heaven. Food City. Those are the nicknames for Kelapa Gading, the area in Jakarta Utara where we are residing temporarily. And judging from what we’ve seen so far, they are accurate descriptions.

The main thoroughfare of Kelapa Gading, the “Boulevard”, is lined chockfull with hundreds of restaurants and food stalls for many, many blocks on both sides. Bern and I were gawking like tourists as we were driven through the area and we told each other: “Ok, you look on that side, I look on this side, and keep in mind what’s out there so we can try them later!”

It is truly a mind-boggling variety: all types of cuisines, from a myriad of Indonesian regional food (Padang, Manado, Palembang, Makassar, etc.) to international (Chinese, American, Korean, etc.) and many interpretations of snackfoods (pisang goreng, pastel, martabak, mpek-mpek, etc… oh, my!). Some are sleekly designed modern restaurants complete with A/C, others are the typical ‘dives’ of open-air tents with benches and tables. They’re all squeezed next to each other for many blocks without any sense of cohesiveness: a gleaming new bakery is built next to a dingy, older restaurant, etc. All advertise their unique dishes on huge banners, the effect is quite chaotic as you drive along the street, but that’s part of the charm. I’m definitely not in Irvine Spectrum or Victoria Gardens anymore, with their thoughtfully planned and designed public space!

Lest you think we have gorged ourselves in these first few days, we haven’t. Our sore throats, which still persist as of this writing, kept us from doing so (deep-fried stuff is definitely verboten!). So far we’ve only eaten at one restaurant on this ‘Boulevard’, where my brother and sister-in-law treated us for dinner, it’s a Chinese bakery & restaurant named ‘Eaton’ (go figure…). The two-story structure is very nicely designed, with clean and modern interior, and we sat right next to the huge window on the second floor, looking down at the bustling traffic below. Customer service was fabulous, the food and dessert were great. Jakarta has clearly come a long way on a lot of things!

Ok… hundreds more dishes to try in this 'Food Heaven'!

(We'll try posting some photos of this later...)

The long trip home...

2008-01-23T12:42:00.000+07:00

We did it. We survived the 22-hours flight from Los Angeles to Jakarta with two sniffling, coughing young children on their first ever plane trip. I chose the word ‘survived’ specifically, because that’s how we felt. I realize we’re not unique in this experience, countless other parents have traveled by air with their toddlers and babies, but it’s something I definitely do not want to repeat anytime soon.

But before I go on, we’d like to say thank you to all the dear friends who took us to the airport and helped us with our many luggages and carry-ons. I don’t know what we would do without your help in LAX! Thank you and also to other friends who could not come to the airport, thanks a million times for your love, care and prayers!

Thank you, gentlemen...
without your help there's no way we could navigate thru LAX with our luggage!

Bern and I weren’t feeling too well physically also. I had been battling a sore throat a few days before, and by the time I boarded the plane in LA for our 11:20 PM flight, my voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper.

The first leg of flight from LA to Taipei took 14 hours in very cramped positions because we didn’t get the bulkhead seats we requested (these are seats that face a ‘wall’/section divider instead of other seats, and parents traveling with small kids usually prefer these because there’s more legroom and space to put a baby bassinet). Stanley was understandably excited in his first plane ride. He immediately got busy with the individual entertainment console. Brennan quickly fell asleep again after take off and stayed asleep for several hours in my arms (we only bought three seats). A few hours into the flight, Stanley finally fell asleep.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, just punctuated by both kids barfing up (not a total surprise). But Brennan managed to do it one step further, he did it all over my shirt front -- thank goodness I had some spare clothes in the carry-on (be prepared!).

After a short transit in Taipei we reboarded the same plane, and thankfully some bulkhead seats had become available on this flight to Singapore, so I moved there with Brennan, creating much needed space in our row for Bern and Stanley. A bassinet was promptly set up and I moved Brennan there when he fell asleep and he snoozed snugly in there for a couple of hours (see photo below). This 4.5 hours leg of flight was much shorter and more comfortable than the first one.

Our first reintroduction to the tropical climate greeted us when we landed in Singapore. We could feel the hot humid air that seeped through the seams in the tunnel connecting the airplane and terminal.

Another brief transit and then we’re off on the short connecting flight to Jakarta. It would be the first time in 22.5 years for my feet to stand on my tanah air, 11 years for Bern. I wish I could say I had some profound and deep introspection or thoughts as we approached this momentous occasion, but the reality and demands of being parents traveling with small children at the tail end of a 20+ hours flight kept interrupting any philosophical reverie. Stanley and Brennan just don’t stay still for long (ummm… five seconds?). What Bern and I felt most at this point was pure exhaustion… and relief because this trip is almost over!

Verdant trees surrounding Soekarno-Hatta glided by as the plane touched down. My eyes drank it all in. I haven’t seen such explosion of green for a very long time. Despite all the other merits of southern California, its hills are unappealingly brown and scrubby, and lush vegetation is definitely not one of LA’s attributes.

As the plane taxied into the gate I asked Stanley, “where are you now?” and he answered very clearly, “In-do-ne-sia”. The minute we stepped into the airport, sticky sweat started to form as the heat and humidity enveloped us (it was around 1:30 on Sunday afternoon when we got there). There was just no escaping it. Welcome to Jakarta!

We breezed through immigration and luggage checks (thanks to some connection and other ‘Indonesian’ way of doing things… wink, wink). We do thank God for that one airport official that came out of nowhere to help us short-cut the very, very long lines at the immigration check. I think he took pity at us, lugging our two kids, two strollers and even more carry-ons hanging from our backs, shoulders and hands. I’m very impressed at the courteousness of everyone so far! (very different from my early memories).

Our family members welcomed us with big smiles and hugs at the waiting area … finally we’re back in Indonesia! Stanley quickly recognized his opa and oma (Bern’s parents). Bern’s sister, her husband, plus my mom and my sister were also there. The rest of my family couldn’t be there at the airport, this being Sunday afternoon, my brother still had a few more church services to do, and my father was still in the hospital.

Traffic was pretty light on the toll road connecting the airport to Jakarta and soon I laid eyes again on my sprawling hometown, which by now is totally different, foreign and unrecognizable to me. So much has changed in over two decades, myself included… but that musing is for another posting…

Saying farewell to 2007 and much, much more...

2008-01-01T00:39:00.000+07:00

Last day of 2007... here we are in the last stages of wrapping up our lives in the United States, getting ready to relocate and replant our roots back home in Jakarta.

But how do you begin to wrap up more than two decades of memories and experiences that shaped you?

My season here is passing, now it's time to embrace the new adventure!

More than any promises or human plans, this I hold dearest:
"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope" (Jeremiah 29:11)

My 'Personal DNA' color swatch :)

2007-12-04T00:38:00.001+07:00

Click here to take assess your own: http://personaldna.com/

2007-10-30T02:00:00.000+07:00

Soon, and very soon... :)

Virtual koi pond...

2007-09-26T00:17:00.000+07:00

Feed some 'crumbs' to the fish by clicking your mouse anywhere over the pond. ... mesmerizing ...

This is my Inner Geek speaking...

2007-07-21T23:31:00.001+07:00

Ahhh!!! .... I accidentally drowned my trusty Clie to death!!! (just in case you're wondering, Clie is a PDA made by Sony).

I've had it since March 2004, I kept track of all appointments and important dates on it, made my shopping list on it, carried it as a portable digital photo album, calculated tips and took notes with it ... but a few days ago it met its death by water in my purse. I put a water bottle in my bag and the cap somehow got opened and some water spilled out -- the rest of my purse's contents could be dried out, but all attempts to resuscitate the Clie failed.... :-(

I need a new PDA! I even searched for a Clie in eBay... but found none, because Sony permanently discontinued Clie just a few months after I bought mine (nothing wrong with the product, Sony just decided to redirect its focus to other gadgets). I'm sure there are a few Clie for sale out there, but getting the ax a few years back is not a good selling point now.

So... a replacement with another Clie is out of the picture. Anyway, there have been a plethora of new gadgets and technology since 2004, so I don't have a shortage in choice.

And just in case you've been living in a deep, dark cave with no TV, phone and Internet in the past month, the most exciting product that just came into the market is Apple's iPhone. My Inner Geek rarely gets so excited!! :D ... but with the cheapest model at $499, it's still very expensive!

Talk about the perfect gadget! To call the iPhone just as a cell phone is a ridiculous understatement. It's also a PDA, an iPod with video, a web browser, Google Map with live traffic information, an email app, a digital camera and photo album -- all integrated smoothly and packaged into one sleek handheld beauty with a brilliant user-interface that's to die for! ... (I know, I know... I'm drooling).

Okay... let me take a deep breath... my cell phone is still working fine (although, my current carrier is AT&T/Cingular, the exclusive carrier of iPhone... hmmm...), my iPod Nano is also functioning perfectly (but the Nano can't play video) ...

Hmmm... maybe a few months down the line we'll get an iPhone... :D ... maybe...

Laguna Beach and San Diego

2007-07-07T03:59:00.000+07:00

We spent several wonderful days in San Clemente, Laguna Beach and San Diego right before the Fourth of July. The whole Saturday was spent working on the grounds of Laguna Beach's Festival of Arts -- but it was a gorgeous day and a beautiful place, so even though our feet felt like they were falling off, it was a very enjoyable experience. Then on Monday we fulfilled our promise to Stanley to take him to Sea World to see "Shamu Rocks".

Okay... this is just a very short summary of our recent vacation. I'll get back later with more photos, too!

New songs by GMB!

2007-06-15T01:25:00.001+07:00

You can hear four of Giving My Best's new songs at Sidney's MySpace. The album will be out soon and they're having a concert with the album's title "Life is Calling" on Tuesday, June 19 at Istora Senayan, Jakarta.

Wish I could be there, bro'...

2007-06-05T00:06:00.000+07:00

Graceful

God has made you graceful, my friend
In your personality and in your movements
He has made you graceful

As you exuberantly and beautifully
Danced for your Lord and King
You commanded your body to worship Him
The very body that was slowly and painfully decaying
The crumbling earthly shell that tried unsuccessfully
To dim the brightness of your spirit
As you determined to make your whole being
A testimony of His joy and strength

Though I grieve and mourn our loss of you
Yet more do I rejoice for you
For you have been set free from your suffering

You have left the confines of your broken body
In exchange for one that is anew and unmarred

And now you are free to dance and rejoice in His glorious presence

Are you joining the angels?
Or are the angels joining you?
I know one thing for sure:
God has called one of His extravagant worshipers home

And now you are there in eternity with the Lover of your soul
Ever worshiping
Ever adoring
Ever graceful...

Until we meet again, Jeane...

Tessa (June 4, 2007)

Another favorite thing...

2007-06-01T04:22:00.002+07:00

Recently we gave Stanley his very own ice cream cone to hold and to lick (previously we always fed it to him spoonful by spoonful, fearing the mess he would make!).

We knew he loved ice cream, but I guess the task of feeding it to himself required a lot of concentration because his face reflected serious attention as he devoured it lick by lick!

And when he finished, he looked up and said, "More!"

It's really true that when you become parents you begin to see the world 'anew' and be reminded of its pure joys through your child as he experienced his 'firsts'.

My Favorite Things

2007-05-16T08:22:00.000+07:00

Fräulein Maria from The Sound of Music may love "raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens", but my favorite things are...

Brennan's chubby legs and toes,
and his wide sudden grins,
and belly laugh as his daddy tickled him,
Stanley's improvised singing,
Bern flirting with me,

A full mug of hot fragrant coffee,
black as ink poured from the French press,
with a dollop of thick, sweet condensed milk,

Getting lost inside a great book,
and knowing that a stack of more books
on the floor by the bed
are still waiting to be read,

The kitchen glowing and drenched in the morning sun,

The tinkling of the windchimes,

A day full of rain...

Balboa Beach!

2007-05-11T11:24:00.000+07:00

As the weather turned midsummer-like in early May with the temperature inland rising to the upper 90s, we packed our beach gears and picnic food and headed to Balboa Beach! The day was absolutely gorgeous, the sky clean and blue without a single wisp of cloud. It was a day that made you ever so grateful you live in southern California! Best of all, since it was a spring weekday, the summer weekend crowd was nowhere in sight (see that photo above? yup... the beach was that empty, the sky that blue... the photo has not been retouched in any way).

Stanley was beside himself with excitement when we reached the beach parking lot. "Laut! Laut!" he yelled as he looked out the window, impatiently tugging at his seatbelts. I guess he still remembered how much fun he had in our previous trip to the beach! After setting up our little tent (which, along with sunblock and the cooler, is an essential beach 'gear' in our family), Bern, Stanley and my father-in-law immediately walked to the end of Balboa Pier to try their luck in fishing. My mother-in-law, my 4-month old baby and myself stayed back at the picnic grounds.

A short time later Stanley came back with Bern and I took him to play at the beach. At first he just busied himself playing with the sand, not wanting to go into the water. But after a little nudge, he started to approach the waves. Once he got his feet wet, he didn't want to come out from the water! Now he was the one tugging at my hands to stay in the surf. He giggled everytime the cold waves washed over his feet, and he got bolder and wetter with each wave. After Bern joined us and played with him, both of them got soaked to their hair.

Although all of us enjoyed that leisurely day, I think it was Stanley who made the most of it, even skipping his regular afternoon nap in his excitement. He spent the day running around and happily chasing the waves, pigeons, mallard ducks, butterflies and soap bubbles!

Click here for more photos at Balboa Beach.

The Unknown Garden of Another's Heart

2007-05-10T13:21:00.000+07:00

That we may mark with wonder and chaste dread
at hour of noon, when, with our limbs outspread
lazily in the whispering grass, we lie
to gaze out fully upon the windy sky --
far, far away, and kindly, friend with friend,
to talk the old, old talk that has no end,
roaming -- without a name -- without a chart --
the unknown garden of another's heart.

By C.S. Lewis, 1917

The Voice

2007-05-10T13:19:00.000+07:00

Rings out a voice in the sky
beyond the blocked horizon,
a voice Ancient of Days.
Though man's voice it utters not
yet its calling finds in me
a welcoming hearth.
Innocent creation echoes
and sings its harmony
with Joy untainted,
yet it's silent to those
confined within themselves.

Irvine, California, February 24, 1992

A Day at the Beach!

2007-04-06T12:11:00.000+07:00

The first Monday of April looked very promising as our family of three generations made our way to Corona Del Mar for a long-awaited trip to the beach.

Sunny southern California lived up to its name that day with a blue sky and clouds chased by cool ocean breezes. The beach was still quite empty when we arrived there at half-hour before noon. Immediately we set up camp (literally) on the grass sheltered by two towering trees, steps away from the sand and waves.

Being outdoors and breathing in the fresh air seemed to sharpen our hunger as we laid out the food on the picnic table. And what a picnic it was! Every dish was cooked and prepared at home, no pallid hotdogs or charred hamburger here: the steamed rice was still warm, the perfect ‘bed’ for a variety of savory and spicy dishes that would warm the tummy of any Indonesian! There was ayam & telor balado that was cooked the day before, so the meat and eggs were deeply infused with the spicy sauce of chili, onions and garlic. Then there were meaty chunks of ikan asin and squares of tahu goreng, the perfect scoops for the ultimate condiment: homemade sambal terasi. To these hot-salty-spicy mouthfuls, crisp slices of raw cucumbers and juicy tomatoes served as fresh counterpoints. There was also the cool and savory rujak pengantin, its fresh vegetables coated with a smooth peanut sauce. The crunch was provided by kerupuk in three different kinds and flavors (it’s ok if you’re drooling now, I understand…).

A tall jug filled with the sweet, ice-cold juice and tender white flesh of young coconuts (es kelapa muda) completed our meal. The ‘usual’ drinks of sodas in hard aluminum cans were still stowed away unseen inside the cooler. They somehow looked and felt inappropriate with the lunch we were digging into. And nobody thirsted after them at this point anyway.

The hours after lunch were spent in whatever each person felt like doing. My husband and father-in-law tried their luck in fishing (none). Stanley bugged all the adults with ‘Come on! Come on!’ from the minute we got the beach, dragging us by our hands to accompany him to climb and explore the rocky hills that lead down to a small bay; later in the afternoon his oma took him to the waves, and soon he was splashing, tumbling and giggling in the surf. His teeth were chattering from the cold water, but he was having a blast! I spent most of the afternoon at our ‘campsite’, keeping company with Brennan (his first trip to the beach!) who didn’t have any problem snoozing inside the cool tent. And of course, I did not forget to provide myself with a bagful of books and magazines, which I enjoyed with sips of hot kopi susu (strong black coffee with sweetened condensed milk) poured steaming from the thermos.

Aahhh...

Hobbit House

2007-04-02T06:23:00.000+07:00

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort." Opening words from The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)

There's a little bit of Bag End somewhere in the United States!

I think Bilbo would feel right at home there! Not exactly built as a 'hole in the ground' or in the hillside as Bag End was, but it's the most realistic and functioning hobbit house I've seen so far.

And the library, oh ... the library! As my husband can tell you, I have one 'dream room' for a house, that's to devote one room as a library (I've been a bookworm since I was old enough to read!). Friends who had helped me move in the past could attest to (and detested) the heavy cardboard boxes that held my book collection.

That library 'nook' above, though a bit small, looks very cozy and inviting, I could picture myself there, seated in a comfortable armchair with a mug of coffee or hot tea, my nose deep into a good book ... (sigh).

If you don't understand why I'm head-over-heel over this house, that's OK. Unless you've made frequent journeys to Middle-Earth, it's just another funny looking abode.

Labor & Delivery -- the sequel

2007-03-23T01:18:00.003+07:00

Disclaimer: if you're a guy, or a woman who hasn't given birth, you can probably skip this one -- because from my experience, the ones who are more interested in the play-by-play of labor-and-delivery stories are those who have 'been there, done that' (moms themselves). This is primarily for my own 'journaling', as I have done about the birth of my firstborn.

Labor & Delivery - the sequel

It was around 9:30 in the evening on January 11, 2007, and I was settling down in front of the TV with a slice of cake and a cup of hot tea (hey, I was pregnant, that’s my excuse). I was already in my 38th week, the last trimester had been harder on me physically than that of my first pregnancy, and so I was already in the 'I'm-sick-of-being-pregnant-let's-get-it-over-with!' phase.

As I was enjoying my dessert, my husband asked me something and I got up from the sofa. That's when I felt something 'popped'. It was very subtle but definite. The only other time I experienced that was when my 'water' broke at the beginning of my active labor with Stanley over two years ago (there were many other similarities with the labor I had with Stanley, but that’s another blog entry). I called the hospital, described what was happening but the nurse told me to wait and see first, it could be a false alarm. Okay, no rush… but even as I tried to wait at home, I just knew that this was ‘it’. We made sure we got everything we needed for the hospital stay in our small luggage, and we made confirmations on the arrangements we had made about where Stanley was going to stay, because we couldn’t take him to the hospital.

The amniotic fluid kept leaking, so we made our way to the hospital. There was no panic, Bern and I were both relaxed, I was not in any pain, and the hospital was less than 15 minutes away from our house. This time, I drove (with our first son, Bern drove, because the rain and the wind were pounding, it was one in the morning and the hospital was about 30 minutes away, and it was my first time and we didn’t know what to expect).

We arrived at the hospital about 30 minutes before midnight. A nurse in the observation station checked me and confirmed it was the amniotic fluid that was leaking and there was no way they could send me home because of a ‘false alarm’. After we got settled in our private labor and delivery room, all I could do was wait. By ‘settling’ in I mean Bern started snoozing on the couch, and I lay there on the bed with an IV tube and monitor cables coming out of me like extra appendages.

Still there was no pain. Uncomfortable, yes, but no contraction pains. I tried to sleep but couldn’t. I guess it was the adrenaline. My husband kept napping.

The absence of pain was nice, but it also meant the labor wasn’t ‘progressing’ fast enough. I was not experiencing any contractions. The dilation of my cervix was still stuck at about 3.5-4 cm. The nurse told me that if by 3 AM the labor did not progress, I would be induced. Okay. I knew I could not wait it out too long because the amniotic fluid was still leaking.

They started the pitocyn at 3:30 AM to induce me. About one hour later, the contraction pains started hitting me with increasing intensity and frequency. I requested for epidural, just as I did the first time around with Stanley (again, my deepest gratitude to the person who invented it!).

The anesthesiologist came in at around 4:50 AM and prepped me for the delicate procedure of starting the epidural line into my spine. It’s so delicate that only a trained anesthesiologist could perform it, because it could mean paralysis for the mother if the needle was off by a few millimeters. When the needle was inserted into my back, I had to be very, very still.

By 5:00 AM it started flowing through my body through the catether in my back, relieving the edge of the pain. Instead of sharp, excruciating cramps, now they were duller, more manageable. (The goal was not to numb the mother from all pain from the waist down, but to lessen the pain while still leaving some sensation so the mother could still actively push when time came… or else, how could she ‘push’ while not having any control over her muscles?).

Now it’s just a matter of waiting for me to dilate to 10 centimeters so I could start pushing.
The pitocyn and the epidural had done wonders in causing my labor to progress. Very quickly I dilated to 7 cm. Then nurse checked me again at about 5:45 AM and found that I was fully dilated.

Many things happened very quickly now. Bright overhead surgery lights were turned on. My ob-gyn was called into the room. More nurses came in. One prepared the warming table for the soon-to-be-born baby. My room was buzzing with activity. I felt excited. My adrenaline level was still high, I guess.

As my ob-gyn took his position at the end zone, the nurse told me to start pushing. It was 5:55 AM. Bern was by my side and counting very enthusiastically during every push. Everyone got excited when they could see the baby ‘crowning’ (yes, this one got lots of hair, too!).

It took a few more pushes, then I felt increasing pressure on my rectum as the head of the baby went through the birth canal. One final push… and Brennan entered the world! It was 6:11 AM. I was only pushing for about 15 minutes. I was so happy, relieved and relatively ‘fresh’, I remembered pumping my fist… yeah, I did it!! (it’s the adrenaline still).

The doctor gave the scissors to Bern to cut the umbilical cord, then a nurse took Brennan to be cleaned. His cry filled the room… oh, how sweet! The cry of a newly birthed baby sounds very unique, it’s more muffled – which is not surprising given that his lungs and throat were probably still filled with residual fluid in the first few minutes after birth! With those tiny but powerful cries he breathed in air and his vocal chords vibrated for the very first time.

Brennan was brought to me a few minutes later. It was hard to imagine he was still inside me just moments ago. As I cradled my baby close to my body to nurse him, I was soaking in the moment, marveling at the velvety softness of his wrinkled skin and the warmth of his body, being aware of his every movement, luxuriating in how alive this tiny being was!

A mic + a megaphone... worth a try? :D

2007-03-22T12:15:00.000+07:00

Here's a video clip of Sidney singing "Solid Rock" (a song by Delirious).

This was done at City Harvest Church (Pastor Kong Hee) in Singapore. It's the largest congregation in Singapore and that is their church facility, one of the most advanced buildings architecturally and technologically in all southeast Asia.

Enjoy!

Squirmy, squiggly line that looks like...

2007-03-19T01:36:00.000+07:00

Our oldest son is almost two-and-a-half years old and he loves to draw. Of course, everything he drew still look like random scribbles and lines, although his pediatrician was impressed during Stanley's 2-year-old check-up because he could properly hold the pen and drew what looked like imperfect circles. The doctor said that kids usually begin to be proficient in 'drawing circles' around 3-years old, so of course, we as parents were very proud of our 2-year old! (if you're a parent, you know what I mean. If you don't have kids yet, just wait...)

In the past few months, Stanley's comprehension and vocabulary have also been growing by leaps and bounds. He's been catching new words in both English and Indonesian (he's already bilingual... cool, huh?) every day.

These two types of development result in many (delightfully) surprising moments for us.

One occurred recently: Stanley was drawing something on paper, then he came to me to show his creation. "Mama!" he called, then scrunching up his face like he smelled something bad, he pointed to the squiggly line he just drew and said emphatically, "CA-CING!"

After I stopped laughing, I praised my son profusely for his work and his accurate description!

A very cool ad... if you can call it that!

2007-03-17T12:48:00.000+07:00

Wow... I just checked out the promo website for Adobe's new Creative Suite, called "Adobe's Creative Mind". It's truly a very effective way to promote the product (a 'suite' of Adobe's integrated design softwares, including Photoshop, InDesign, Illustrator, etc.) -- all done in a highly fun, creative, interactive way, you got to see it to believe it! (Even if you're not a graphic/web designer, it's still worth checking out: http://www.adobe.com/creativemind/)

"The door is open" ...

The graphic designer in me is drooling over it... oooh, I wish it's not so expensive!

Any other Indonesian in Middle-Earth?

2007-03-16T12:49:00.000+07:00

I've always wondered if there are other Indonesians, in addition to my brother and me, who have read and enjoyed the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien? I'm not referring to the movies by Peter Jackson, I'm talking about taking on the wonderful journey through the 1000+ pages of Tolkien's words.

I've been revisiting Middle Earth many times since I started high school in the U.S., more than a decade before the world even heard of Peter Jackson and his LOTR movie adaptations. It started with The Hobbit, which was introduced to me in my "English as Second Language" class during my freshman year in high school. Although I have always been an avid reader since I was a kid in Jakarta and had read many books in English that had been translated to Indonesian, I had never heard of Tolkien or his works before that (I don't think the books have been translated into Indonesian).

The Middle-Earth bug bit me hard through The Hobbit, I wanted more of it... so I bought the LOTR set and also The Silmarillion.

And so began my journeys to Middle Earth...

Here we go!

2007-03-15T07:03:00.000+07:00

My first ever blog!

I've been looking for something like this, contemplating to create an account either in Friendster or MySpace, but neither of those sites really clicked with me.

I guess I've been looking for an outlet for my writing. Although I know I have a gift to write, I have never been good at keeping a personal diary or journal the old fashioned way (pen and paper). Most of the writings I've done are through emails anyway... but most people don't want to read long emails .

Another reason is the desire to keep in touch with friends and family who live in all corners of the world -- the Internet is practically THE best way to keep these connections alive! This will be the place where they can 'check-in' with me and my growing family (an adorable hubby and two cute sons ... who I'm sure will be 'featured' a lot on my page!).

So... here we go!