Poor Ritha. She’s in her second year of studies to become a teacher of the Protestant Religion (Maybe there’s a better way of translating her course name but that’s the literal translation). She has the second highest GPA of the entire class. The majority of her teachers hail from Ambon. There are also a lot of students in the class also from Ambon. The one person with a higher GPA than Ritha is a “straight-haired” woman from Western Indonesia. Recently Ritha had to write a paper and she tried her best not to get too good a mark, but alas, she got an “A”. What that means for Ritha is that she has to prove to her teachers where she got her information from to achieve this stellar grade. The other woman has to do this as well, but not to the extent that Ritha does. Ritha really feels that the teachers think she is cheating because how can a Papuan woman get better grades than people from Ambon or other islands??? Um... maybe cause she’s just smart? Another factor is that Ritha has access to our computer and our neighbour’s computer and can use the internet. The other student’s most likely need to go to internet cafes where they have to pay and the internet is slow. Having unlimited time allows one to do a lot more research. She’s offered to bring her teachers to our house to prove this but they have yet to take her up on her offer... I say, “Bring em on!”
It is difficult here to find clothing of a decent quality. There’s a lot of cotton, but it is thick and sweat-inducing and often ill-fitting. However, the other day I stumbled upon a new brand of t-shirt that is made with nice thin, stretchable cotton and is designed in a flattering shape. The name brand? Jail Body Inside. I kid you not....
The other day Ice came to work but could not enter the gate because our yard guy’s brother misunderstood me when I asked him NOT to lock the gate when he left... I told Ice that next time that happens she should just go to their house and ask them to unlock the gate. But Ibu, she says, they live right beside the parents of the girl that was killed. So what, I respond. Well, the mom likes to sit outside there and she has said that as long as she’s alive, Pak Mitre’s (Ice’s dad) daughters will not have children. So I’m scared of her... You should know that the only reason this woman is focussing on Ice’s dad is because he decided to “pegang the masalah”. Literally translated this means, “to hold the problem”. It was he that instigated discussions regarding payment and it was he that organized the ultimate exchange of pigs, money and nokens (weaved bags). He and his children did not have any involvement in the actual murder of the girl. But that is all meaningless to the family of the dead girl. It still leaves me feeling completely baffled....
I have begun painting our house. This lovely house we live in was built just before our arrival 2 years ago and according to our organizations standards, was painted a stark white inside and out and unfortunately with a low quality water-based paint. Local water based paints come off when you rub the wall with a wet cloth especially if there’s a little vinegar on it. So instead of cleaning the walls, you are actually removing the paint. I’m a little sick of dirty walls so I’ve decided it’s time to paint in spite of the fact that in three short months we are due to head to Canada for home assignment. I figure that it will be nice to return to a “freshly” painted house. The kids are super excited at the prospect of not having dirty-white bedroom walls anymore! Thankfully, there’s a new shop in town that sells paint of a calibre similar to what one would find in Canada. If I purchase 250,000 rupiahs worth of paint, I receive 5 free packages of Supermie (ramen noodles – all the rage here)! If I purchase lots of paint, I get a free nylon tote bag to carry it all in! They are really pushing this stuff here.... The only problem is that sometimes they run out of certain tints and they don't order ahead of time.... And everything comes here by boat from Jakarta...
Last Sunday we decided to go to church in Waena. This is the church that we attended faithfully the last time we lived here 6 years ago. We had not been back yet. This is due to a couple factors, one being that it takes a half hour to get there on a very windy road and all of our boys get car sick. The other factor is that we don't normally have a car on Sunday's. We share an MAF car with another family living near us and as they go to church farther away than us, we've let them have the car on Sunday's. The church we attend is within walking distance of our house. The church in Waena is quite a bit bigger so the singing was really nice. Church is supposed to begin at 9:00am but the didn't ring the "bell" (see photo of converted propane tank) until 9:25... Ahhh, rubber time. They asked us to introduce ourselves following the service, inbetween intense discussion regarding the plans for Christmas. I don't think anyone remembered us. Of course, at that time I had long hair and was very pregnant with our son Marc. It was neat to worship with these folks, and we hope to do it again more regularly. With the aid of travel pills...
