A cup of tea, a cup of friends.






















pak big boss























round and round we go























"character building"



















i wanted to drink this rainbow. the pic is taken from the top of my driveway. volcanoes dipped in gold and crowned with rainbows... rainy season has it's magical moments.

Hot Sauce

Sambal is a spicy Indonesian hot sauce. It’s nothing I would consider special, just basically tomatoes and hot peppers smooshed into a paste that can be bought cheaply (and, as a redeeming factor, can be smothered onto any and every dish imaginable).
What I discovered today is that running, here in the mountains, is like my growing love affair with Sambal. People use Sambal frequently because it burns your mouth, quickly and briefly. The effect, as my food-scientist brother has explained it, is to spur the production of endorphins – the happy chemical. You’ve got to endure the initial pain of your Sambal-smothered rice grains burning your mouth before you can enjoy the endorphin-after-effect. And you don't consciously know it's happening, like 'oh, my brain really likes the after-effect of a tongue on fire.'

Running in the volcano foothills has been exactly that for me. For the past 4 months I have creatively crafted a variety of semi-true excuses for not disciplining myself to run (e.g. ‘everyone stares at me because I’m white; my shoes have grown moldy because of rainy season; there are no street lamps; there are billions of tail-less cats lurking around fallen palm fronds just waiting to swat my ankles’ and on and on). However, now that I’m entered into a 5k race in Jakarta this Sunday, I need to at least remind my legs of what it feels like to run. But as I’m reminding them, I’m discovering that I actually like running in the mountains. The sweet easy downslope of a long hill and the cyclical burn of the incline subconsciously call to my muscles. Tonight, I actually seriously wanted to turn around and run up the hill again, just so I could run down it.

Like Sambal -- you start to crave the sting.

(incidentally, no tail-less cats bit my ankles during the entire duration of my run tonight)

I've hit the '4 month mark' as they coined it over supper tonight. The time when the 'existential crisis of every 20-25 year old who is simultaneously experiencing culture shock' deadens your energy and quietly eats away at your passion until you think 'Hey! Come back here! I was into that!' yeah. My symptoms: listlessness; various amounts of time spent rearranging furniture (that, incidentally, belong to the school); alternating moments of panic and apathy in regards to my accumulating pile of work; a fluctuation between desperately desiring to cling to this nation somehow (to make a connection, find a small thread, a wiry sinew that could join my flesh and spirit with these people who often seem so utterly not me) and at other times despising the differences so much that it seems worthwhile to tactically plan my day so that I won't have to face even one other solitary soul (which, in such an immensely populated nation is actually quite difficult).

I'm not homesick, I wouldn't call it that. But today I rewashed my clean dishes 3 times. I clipped a clump of knee-high crab grass about 2 feet by 4 feet, and then I just left the clippings laying there, in the sun, to sizzle and dry while the rest of my jungle-yard remains an untouched wilderness. I looked at and re-looked at my piles of essays without picking up a pen. I started singing a song, but didn't get past the fist line. I am restless.

Christmas will be spent in central Java, taking a crash-course in Bahasa (Indonesian). I won't be with my family (American or Indonesian), and I won't feel the crisp kiss of a winter breeze or the sharp tingle of November air rushing in nose and mouth during a late-fall jog in the park. Coffee isn't even good here.

Tomorrow morning, my emotions will be different, I am sure, as I look into the faces of 100 students, who are awaiting the precious past perfect continuous conjugation of the verb 'know.' It will be exciting then, remembering that there are humans around me, learning and growing. And that there are babies to hold in the orphanage a few miles away. And that the rainy season has come and sunsets are often dripping with golden rain, and I'll get to see it from my back door.

If you can write me a letter, and put it in the mail, this would be an opportune time for it. I'm craving some real-live, it's-been-in-your-hands-now-it's-in-mine connection. I adore even the mundane - you can't write a boring letter, because the fact that it crosses 12 time zones makes it precious to me.

Send to:
me
P.O. Box 490
Bogor 16104
Indonesia

look into the world of

my 11th graders, who have been some of the most enjoyable people to meet, ever in my life, have created blogs as part of our 'national program' english class. you can access our ever-evolving web-logs through my teacher blog at: www.iwillsheepfarm.blogspot.com.

Today will be my first day of Tae Kwon Do (...uh, spell check, please) training. one day soon, i will be a warrior princess. once i have the garb (belt and all) and a camera, i'll post a pic to make you laugh out loud.

it's strange that a person can have numerous infestations of the critter kind and love some and hate others. geckos, for example, are highly enjoyable, especially when falling onto your head during one of their ceiling capers. cockroaches, on the other hand, make me want to scream expleltives. ants, i can live with.

my dear, sweet, amazing, spirited, contempletive, whimsical, insightful friend carrie reeb arrived two days ago. she got a job at my school and has now been swept up into a whirlwind of job-training-on-the-spot while a new round of cultural adjustments barrage her on every side. she handles herself so well. and i love it that we share a room with one fake wall between us. we can hear each other teach.

i nearly fell off the ojek this morning as i desperately tried to side-saddle it (skirt-clad) on a motorbike that i realized had a taillight where the handgrip should have been. nevertheless, the mountains were breath-taking and i can't wait to see them again on the way home.

UNblocked!

The internet at my school has had a pretty heavy filter on it -- all the kids have wireless, each with a laptop in class -- and there's a philosophical debate about whether or not the students should have full access.

Anyway, until recently, blogger has been blocked. So, I've not posted. But now I can! So check up on me. Like when there are earthquakes here. Like today. It was a lot bigger (and a few more seconds) than the first one I experienced, but I think my recounting of it that morning was pretty similar to the way I felt at 12:05am today. This time I just kept thinking "God, why are you shaking this mountain? God, why are you shaking this mountain?"

There is much to tell, besides the earthquake parts. For now, the entry below is what i wanted to post on July 19th.

And here is my eyeball. giving a perspective of what i see out my bedroom window. 5pm is my favorite time of day.

from three weeks ago...

I have never felt the earth tremble before. Until 15 minutes ago. The alarm clock buzzed at 4:30 and about 5 minutes later my room started shaking. Since I was still sprawled out jet-lag heavy as a rock, I could feel every rumble. At first I thought it was some kind of alarm clock and I blindly, half-heartedly patted the bedding. A split second later I realized I couldn’t turn it off and that the whole building was shaking. The question ‘why is my house shaking?’ ran through my blurred mind. It was incredibly disconcerting, for although I was not alone (a friend was sleeping in the room next door) I was still very much out of control of the situation. I realized that I have not been trained in earthquake procedures (seriously, that was my thought: “hmm, what is the procedure for this?” like it was some kind of drill and I had kids to get under desks or something) I didn’t really know what to do. Get up or stay down? Run down the stairs and hide under a table? Do a little dance?

Never before have I understood so clearly Psalm 46. Right after the description of the earth trembling is the first ‘selah.’ And then immediately these words:

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved…

It’s now 5 am. I’m off to jog. The view is incredible. At some point when I feel comfortable describing the indescribable, I’ll write about it. Until then, I think Psalm 46 does a pretty good job.

The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah
Come, behold the works of the Lord,
how he has brought desolations on the earth.
He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the chariots with fire.
Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!
The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

grounding

i leave in about 25 hours. thoughts and moments have been swirling and crashing with an earnest ebb and flow for the past 6 weeks, to the point where i wish the whole moon-forced-earth-squeezing tide would just lift and stir and advance until a great flood would overwhelm and absorb my world to wipe out every last thing of inconsequential value in the face of God's great agenda. is that metaphorically clear enough? talk about the allegorical: i finished 'animal farm' tonight. ug, the terror of mixed, misunderstood motives and equality maligned. the leadership problem and the resources problem and the integrity problem and the lack of truth and abuse of value. selfishness. not at all concepts that've been absent from my mind in yet another life transition. there is an intense longing to struggle for what is right, rooted so deep in my spirit i surely couldn't shake it come flood or fire. american poverty is so it's own beast in a world of povertys and wrongs. am i ready to transition to such a ridiculously different place of learning (learning: instructing and seeking, simultaneously)? regardless, it has been six long weeks in coming and the good-byes have been so poignant i feel as though i've slow-walked through my own wake. one slow, long, clean cut from this life. one fast flight to a blank slate. that will be me (i've prepared mentally): the smiling american engulfed in an introductory moment to Singapore's monstrous hullabaloo. brave? not really. i've some stories about bravery. the courage that I mustered for a 2 second jump off a rope swing far outweighs the courage that it is taking me to move to the direct opposite side of the earth. climb a pile of wooden barrels and GRAB that rope when i jump? geez, i catch my breath thinking about it. changing my currency and figuring out a new mode and route of transportation? (mmm... but this is about real people) the thought causes assured tears, even now preemtively fostering a love for - what - a hundred? young people (classified: students). God so has a heart and a love for people, everywhere. it's not courageous to love them too, it's my job. i signed up for this at the cross.

the only real grounding, ever, for anyone, in all of time, on any journey, whirlwind, fire, or tremor is in the very words of God. real life is found in the whisper. longings for right and good will remain as contexts change, becuase the problems of selfishess and greed and misappropriation will not go away prior Kingdom come. (mmm... lets talk about the complexities of that one, my friends) My hands will always be feeble and the demands for courage too much for me lest I remember the greater reality of forgiveness, of Jesus' blood, of restoration through the cross. seeking the knowledge of God is truly the path i (desire to) walk on. relocating and my swirling thoughts thereof is really nothing new. it is an essential peripherial thing, just like all of the travelling and learning i have ever done has been. what i will do in this next phase of lifetime will surely be reaching into reality, touched by eternity. that's because i'm saved. i'm the recepient of way too much grace to not unrelentlessly place a singular and primary focus on the revelation of Jesus in scripture and the sacred. for this next new same thing, i can't wait.

i'll post when i arrive.

couldn't resist...

okay, so, i said I wouldn't blog until july, but there's this thing about silence that makes speaking more fun. It's not as meaningful to talk unless the voice punctuates silence. On a much more superficial level, i've not been blogging for a year! so i can feel the webjournal calling. ;)

I am so enjoying saying goodbye to Cleveland. it's because women like this are so precious and have so blessed my life that even in parting, the 'sweet' in bittersweet is overwhelmingly overpowering. precious sisters, i love you!

Check Back...

This'll be the blog for my adventures abroad. Check back mid-July for those wild-n-crazy katiebolling stories you love. ;)

Contact me until then at: kbolling713@gmail.com or 262-492-2085

JESUS IS ALIVE!!