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.  

Lots of pictures

We will take a little bit different tack on this week's blog.  Will show lots of pictures with captions.  See our letter home for more details and personal stories and feelings. 

One of Kathy's favorite little girls, Devy, a Moslem neighbor across the street  from the Barat Branch.  She brings them food, candy, clothes, etc almost every week. They often come  sit on the grass in front of the Church waiting for Kathy to come out.

Mom is Aci, 6 year old girl to the left is Wiwit, and the older girl to the left is a neighbour.  Their house is basically the room you see behind them, a 14 foot square room where they sleep on a mattress on the floor, and do whatever else Indonesians do.  This one of several homes in a row of connected homes.  A TV of course.  Shared cooking and bothroom facilities nearby.  Some have a fridge. 

Several missionaries from Surabaya and Malang converged on a sleepy mountain town east of Malang on the slopes of  Bromo to climb 1 Km or so into a waterfall (air terjun) called Sumber 7 (7 sources), named after several  waterfalls.

It was quite muddy, steep and slick.  a crew was building a new road into a hillside near the small river.  We met this Hobbit-like man, who appeared to be the boss of the work crew, who for a fee...maybe $4, escorted all of us.  Look at his height compated to other Indonesians, themselves already typically quite short compared to Americans.  He kept asking us for cigarettes and offering to pray for us and invoke the local spirits in our behalf.

Our climb out of this valley.  We exited by a different route than we came in.  Felt a little sketchy, in places. 

Not a good hike/climb for those with any sense of fear of heights.  We climbed on a bamboo ladder bound tgether with heavy gauge wire.  Felt like something you would see on the Amazing Race or Survivor.

A sketchy ladder, followed by a mildly sketchy bamboo bridge over the gorge leading to the main falls.  Major creaking with each step  We felt like Indiana Jones with a Book of Mormon.  Elders being Elders...Elders Headrick and Arthur.

Elder Wills doing his weekly service project for the little man dwarfed behind him.  These bundles of sticks are heavy. These tukangs carry these bundles up and down the hills all day.  Amzingly the local community had built a concrete sidewalk for perhaps 1/2 Km into the hillsides to make it easier for them to access their fields.  Here we mostly saw beans, cassaba, peas and cabbages.  Also some fruit trees, durian, papaya, banana.  There are frequent heavy rains from December until March or so.  Access can be quite difficult. 

 

Interesting story.  Several years ago the national oil company, Pertamina, was drilling nearby, just south of Surabaya, when they struck an unexpected volcanic mud pool.  There was an immediate explosion at the time, people killed, and over the years so much mud has escaped, and continues to do so, that multiple villages were totally submerged.  You are seeing a mud plateau behind me, perhaps 20+ meters high, and in the distance can also see the steam erupting at the source.  They built a tall earthen embankment to try and control the mud flow.  There is no end in sight for this.  Man's puny efforts to control Nature are laughable.  Righteous living will do more than any earthen embankment,

Some street scenes in Tumpang.  Here you see some Javanese elders lounging roadside, wearing their Moslem, black felt, flat topped hats.



Still horse carts in these small and more remote towns and villages.  Not commonly used. Perhaps mostly for the tourists, but very familiar to me from the early 1970's, when these were commonly seen routinely as a source of transport.

Many villages have the Indonesian national philosophy, the Pancasila, emblazoned on a stone or statue.  Pancasila, comes from ancient Sanskrit, Panca, meaning five, and Sila meaning principles...Belief in Only One God, Belief in Just and Civilized Humanity, Belief in the Unity of Indonesia, Belief in Democracy, and Belief in Social Justice for All Indonesians.

A common means of public transportation..the angkotan kota...a private van which runs a set route on a set schedule for a set fee. 

A small community mosque in every village and neighborhood.  They have sprouted everywhere since I was last here. 

We enjoyed a missionary Zone Conference this past week.  President Donald spoke, amongst others.  Here he is showing a large contingent of the Missionary Leadership Council, which gather to counsel together and be taught monthly in Jakarta.  Behnd him our new Mission Standards of Excellence, which includes 20 lessons a week, 20 contacts a day, 14 Books of Mormon a week placed, and so forth. We are being stretchchchchchchchched...

Donut break.  6 dozen Dunkin Donuts go fast with 30 missionaries.  The local donut shop loves Zone Conference!

All of the Missionary Sisters sering in East Java plus some guests from Jakarta. A great group of hardworking and righteous women.  Love the colors, yeah?

During the Conference, a Moslem demonstration was held down the street from the church.  We locked all of the gates and doors and kept everyone inside.  They were marching from their mosque with intections to end at the French Institute which is right next door.  All of this was triggered by the French newspaper publishing cartoons of the prophet M, which prompted the terrible, deadly reprisals in France and elsewhere recently.  The local police knew this was happening, and so wisely preventively put police in front to prevent anything more than angry words.  They had a large police van parked right in front of the church here.  We heard some angry words on a loudspeaker down the street, but it ended quickly and nothing more happened.  I was over talking to some of the police walking home from eating lunch while they were setting up their riot gear.  The ZL's had to come get me. 

AJBS, the local version of Home Depot, right next door to the East Branch of the church here.

Sunday after church, we had the Assistants to the President and the Sister Leaders over for a quick, impromptu dinner...BBQ chicken, baked potates, garden salad, olives, canned peaches, and Kathy made amazing almond bars.  We enjoyed hosting them before they flew home to Jakarta.  Elder Simanungkalit played some lovely hymns on our keyboard, and a few games of UNO were enjoyed. 

 

Only on an Indonesian airline will you find a Prayer Card in the pocket in front of you, right next to the Emergency Procedures brochure.  Printed in 6 languages for 6 religions.  Indonesia recognizes 6 religions.  Only after I was home did I discover, to my slight discomfort, that I was not supposed to remove the card from the plane...is there a prayer for that?

Found a great Indonesian BBQ place close by...quite spicy ribs...good.  Served with a mild peanut sauce...ok, rice, eggplant...not good, and urap-urap.

Discovered I really like Urap-Urap...a stir fried, veggie dish with cabbage, sprouts, spinach, and fried shredded coconut, seen at the top of the picture above.  The word urap in Indonesian means ointment.   Plurality of nouns in the Indonesian language occurs just by doubling the word.   Banana is pisang.  Bananas becomes pisang-pisang.  Urap-urap refers specifically to this dish; it is not "double" anything.   You can always tell when an Indonesian has translated using a dictionary.  I just ate "ointment ointment". 

Saturday night after dinner with a member, a Filipino family living here for several years who are great cooks, we were driving home and came upon a motorcycle accident.  He was laying in the road.  2-3 Indonesians standing around.  Seemed more worried about the motorcycle.  He was complaining of his leg and back hurting.  Quick trauma survey seemed fine except for deformed right ankle.  We cautiously moved him 2 feet out of the roadway, called the police, and I manually immobilized his ankle, while they removed his helmut.  Mentally ok and denied pain anywhere else.  Meanwhile traffic racing less than 2-3 feet away, eager to get past the bottleneck.  Police finally show up, immediately commandeer a passing flat bed truck, and they almost literally throw him into the back, unattended with no splinting or spinal precautions whatsoever.  Off he rides with a private citizen, suddenly deputized as an ambulance driver. Not sure where he took him or if the police followed.  Overall, totally bizarre, dismaying and frightening event.  If I am ever sick or injured, please get me out of here. 

A little home-made gift from Kimbley to Sister Williams for the help given during her recent illness and hospitalization.   She is doing great now.  Found out that her total week-long hospital stay cost around 5 million rupiah, about $500, paid by the Church.

Some beautiful landscape views on our way once more to Taman Safari Park near Malang.  Sister Sperry goes home in a few days, and wanted this experience before leaving.

Sisters Hasibuan, Sperry and Aryanto.  Some sew and some reap. 

Mount Arjuno in the background. Malang is surrounded by active volcanoes.

Sister Williams and some  Sisters in Surabaya East Branch.  The floor makes a lovely seat, as we notice every day here. 

Sister  Suryaniningsih and her daughter Inday, and her very ill husband in bed behind.  We met them recently while out looking for members.  Have not been to church in years, but now getting frequent visits, and have committed to reading their scriptures. We spent a few hours there recently giving her some fellowship, learning each others language, etc. 

Watching the bird show.  Being a good companion.

Some remarkable tropical flowers here.  Proves the Lord is an artist with a sense of humor, I think. 



Daughter Cassandra, granddaughter Hope, enjoying a few more surf trips to the beach in Hawaii.  We miss them so. 

Love to all of you.