Thursday, February 5, 2015

Our Week in Pictures

On the road to Malang.  For those of you with old man eyes like me, and maybe have difficulty seeing the print, the sign on he rear of the truck says "Suamiku nakal lagi", meaning "my husband is naughty again."  Kathy wants to tattoo that on my backside also.

The following series of photos are from the Burial of Sister Jenny in Surabaya, as Kathy has written.
Elders Setijawan, Sutadiyono, Martineau and Anderson.  Missionaries in Jennie's church unit in West Surabaya.  They had just done a several hour-long service project to help a few days before she died, cleaning her apartment, hauling away junk, and so forth.  They are wonderful servants of God. And also faithful to wearing their reflective safety vests and helmets when biking.  See President?

President Cendi, Branch President of th Surabaya 1 Branch.  Most everyone gets around on a motorcycle.  Church dress, white shirt, tie, etc only worn on Sundays or maybe a formal Church training.  Funerals, Presidency meetings, etc, are typically done in casual dress.  
Sister Williams and her Motorcycle Posse.  Branch members attending Sister Jennie's burial.  Cool funeral cortege.
In the background you see the ambulance.  This carries the deceased body along with family members.  Indonesia has no concept of  hearses, embalming and undertakers.  Funerals seem very refreshingly "real."  A remembrance service typically held at home followed by the burial at the cemetery, all within 24 hours of death typically.  

Picking our way through the large Christian cemetery.  No walkways really. The ground is soft, muddy.  Grave markers make handy stepping stones.  Christians, Moslems, etc are always buried in separate cemeteries.  

Burial in the wet season is more difficult.  The water table rises.  The grave was only 3 feet deep.  They were removing buckets of water from the grave when we arrived.  No grave liner.  Only the pine casket is placed into the wet soil, then mud is placed back on top by the workers, piled high. As the earth settles it  sinks deeper. You could visibly see the grave site settle many inches during the minutes we watched, as the heavy, wet mud pushed the coffin deeper into the earth.  

A nice gravesite service.  Hymns sung, President Cendi gave the grave dedication prayer.  Family took no role here, though some nieces and nephews were present.  All the costs of the entire burial were borne by the Church, in this case Rp 2 million, about $160.  

Friends and family sprinkle flower petals on the grave, and perfumed water is also sprinkled on the grave. 

Not yet at the point of having Angel Moroni headstones here.

Jennies long time, Moslem caregiver, paid for years by the Church.  She was grief-stricken, and sad that the Missionaries would not be stopping by any longer.  We promised we would still stop by occasionally. 

They really know how to kill a bathroom party...No throwing tissue in the toilet.  No putting shoes or sandals on the toilet seat.  No throwing water on the floor.  And  No washing your feet in the toilet area.  

Missionaries always draw a crowd. Walking past a neighborhood school, all you have to do is say Hi in English to one child, and in one minute you have a flash mob.  They spill out into the street, making the school security guard nervous.  The kids and parents nearby, and even the guard, in green shirt behind, love it.  

Stopping for a planning session for a few minutes on a Splits day with Elders Martineau and Anderson last week.  We stopped in front of the regional Army Headquarters.  This artillery piece made a convenient and shaded place to sit and share my PBJ sandwich and a couple of oranges.  Our planning lasted just a few moments until we were approached by off duty soldiers during their lunch break,  and some new recruits doing fitness training.  Always eager to practice their English, and always amazed that we can speak theirs.  All Moslem, and no chance for any Gospel teaching this time.  Friendly people.

Last posting I showed a picture of a common local means of transportation, the Angkot, a small van driving a set route, charging about 5000 Rp, about 40 cents.  We took these this day, since Elder M's bike was in the repair shop.  The door is open.  If one sits in the entrance, my favorite location due to the ventilation, I have discovered one can literally give out many "Pass Along Cards", small business cards with Church addresses, contact phone numbers, and a little Gospel blurb.  I found that as the angkot slows I can reach out and "pass along" many cards to pedestrians and even people on motorcycles waiting at a red light.  Unfortunately, usually no time for any sort of  conversation!
Cute little Kampung girls we met just strolling down a small gang looking for someone. Such pretty little girls, missing their front teeth.  I asked them to whistle (bersiul) for me, which sent them into hysterics. Also found a local food purveyor, kaki lima, standing behind, serving a dish I had never tried before.  5000 Rp bought me a bowl of pungent, sweet, ginger broth and a tasteless white custard.  Actually quite good.  The Elders all shared it (mostly me).  Don't tell Sister Williams...she hates me eating on the street. 

The Church has a very active Humanitarian arm here in Indonesia, serving a variety of good causes.  They essentially work with other Indonesian organizations.  Out full time Humanitarian senior missionaries, the Lucherini's, from Preston Idaho, just left for home yesterday.  The Church helps with water projects, new borne resuscitation, wheelchairs for the handicapped, assisting orphanages, schools, and many other worthwhile efforts.  

Here President Hadi, in the green baseball shirt, and I meet with a local community after the Church assisted in remodeling their local pre-school.  The roof leaked and the ceiling had to be raised.  The project is not complete, but well on its way.  The Church spent about 17,000,000 Rp, about $1350.  There were speeches, snacks, donuts.  I brought watermelon for all. The neighborhood bosses/leaders, the RT and RW, seated in front of me and to my right side, were there.  

Ginger tea
A clothing store in the Surabaya airport.  Yeah, we all dress like fighter pilots in America too.

A classic Indonesian vehicle, the Bemo.  Really a blast from the past, not seen much anymore.  Rode a lot of these 40 years ago.  A motorized, 3 wheel contraption, really noisy and not much power.  Made in India, I think, and perhaps still used there a lot.  This one was in the Harris Hotel lobby in Jakarta where we stayed overnight last week at a Leadership Conference. 

Our Surabaya District Presidency, President Hadi driving, and Presidents Kurniawan and Rhama.

The Priesthood Leadership In Indonesia.  Jakarta and Surakarta Stake Presidencies, Surabaya District Presidency, and some Bishops and EQ Presidents from West Java.  Also Elder Funk Asia Area Presidency) from Hong Kong, and Elder Chen (Area Seventy) from Malaysia.

Indonesian Mission Presidency.  Elder Kusamamanto, President Donald, Elder Williams

 Some street scenes from recent forays into the kampung in search of a little 10 year old girl baptized 2 years ago, but not active in recent months.  She is the only member of her family. Being raised by her Moslem uncle, aunt and grandparents.  Her parents divorced and live elsewhere.

10 year old Cindy.  Some children here have been given Anglicised names in addition to their Indonesian names.  Her uncle below.  
As usual, we bring our own seats with us...

Many homes are accessed through these very small, dark, quite claustrophobic alleyways.  There may be several homes accessed from these alleys.  Some paved, some not.  Some flood in the rainstorms. 

A cool, local, marching band composed of little, Moslem, grade school kids.  They are remarkably good for their age.

Last weekend while I was in Jakarta, Kathy did some fix-up around our home. Bought some potted plants and deck chairs for our balcony.  

We have been spending a lot of time this week visiting 2 Sisters whose husband?father is dying in the hospital.  Makes me grateful for Western health care.  This is a large open sewer/storm drain in the courtyard of he hospital.  The cancer ward had 6 to a room, quite small, no AC or window screens.  All nursing care provided by families.  The nurses provide medication, IVs, etc.  Very inexpensive by Western standards. A moribund patient with lung cancer and brain mets in coma was receiving IV Mannitol, steroids, IVFs  and NG feedings. Go figure. Makes no sense really.  It is apparently considered rude to not offer care even in hopeless situations.  Chemotherapy and radiation therapy, things which might have palliated months ago, are not offered, unless one is wealthy.

Our Mission Motto

The DeBeikes family, Lily, Chris, James and Annie.  We love them.

Thanks for your support, prayers, and once-in-a-while letter.  

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing all your AMAZING incredible experiences! You INSPIRE us!