Pulau Satu: the hottest day of my life
The boat cuts across the sea to our first island. A drum chorus echos from the end of the jetty. We dock and are ushered to the government office by a mob of laughing children. Everyone is talking and shouting. Children press their faces against the window to catch a peak at the foreigners as we sit and await our host families. Sweat rolls down our backs and our legs stick to the plastic chairs.
We take a brief walk and culture shock sets in. I am far away from home. Weak structures supported by even weaker pilings resemble houses and the ocean is littered with garbage. A goat chews on grass inside the gates of the mosque. Chickens run under my feet as I try and maintain pace with my group. The odor of baked trash and fishy discards are carried by the faint breeze. This is not my life, I whisper to myself, I was bought at a price.
Our host family consists of a mother (Ibu) and her daughter (Kakak) and Kakak's three children. I think their decision to host us was based on the celebrity status of housing americans under their roof. Every meal was akin to thanksgiving and we all stuffed ourselves out of polite obligation (I can't say I would have eaten three helpings of full bodied fish and spicy beans back home). Conversations skimmed the surface and with their desireless nature toward thought, our team spent time most of our time visiting other families.
On our second full day we spent time with Ibu Zimah, a woman of character and an incredible cook! The combination of her homemade tapestries and a red tile floor along with her gentle and quiet spirit was a piece of beauty in the midst of stench. She taught us how to make these delicious crepes and even baked a cake for us to decorate. During one of our afternoon chats over piping hot tea and freshly baked crepes, we began to discuss the love of God and I retold the story of Hosea and Gomer. Our team wanted to give Zimah the complete picture of God's full and complete love in the midst of our unfaithfulness. Zimah listened, nodded her head, and simply replied, "I enjoy your story, but I am happy to believe what I believe." Heartbreaking. She is missing the full complete love of God and continues to "earn" her salvation by works. Our team continues to pray for her. But in addition to Zimah hearing the good news, was Ferra, a freshly graduated high schooler who's best friend just came to know Jesus.
Island One laid a foundation of Sea Tribe culture and gave me my first baby steps in opening up spiritual conversations. I also, as previously mentioned, experienced the hottest day of my life. Perhaps one person's opinion on the degree of hottness may vary from another's, but what about two people, of Southern blood, attesting to the absurdity of just how hot is hot. It supposed to be nap time, unfortunately I am awakened by the insidious rooster outside the room. I sit up only to realize I am floating in a pool of my own sweat! My hair is pasted to my forehead; I gasp for air. I look over to my teammate, Leigh Ann, who attempting to create a self generated breeze with her striped journal. We ring out our shirts. We slide our legs into the shade. We listen to the rooster. We laugh. What else can you do on the hottest day of your life? Drink water? Maybe. Go swimming? Perhaps. But laugh. Yes. That's what makes the hottest day of your life bearable.
Just outside my home on Pulau Satu.
Walking back home after some singing off the jetty. On most islands, the ocean is the trash can.
Children helping me learn new vocabulary words in bahasa. Any guesses to what word I'm trying to learn??
Cooking that delicious crepe on the floor of Ibu Zimah's kitchen.
Enjoying a visit from Ferra (pink shirt) with hour home stay family.
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