Last week was Rebecca’s 17th birthday and that ended the birthday party season for us that started in May. The next birthday is my eldest son’s, but as he’s in America that one doesn’t involve a party. Next party is not until December when Meredith has her 12th. Keeping with the promise everyone made about exchanging their traditional big parties for a family vacation in Singapore, we “only” had family and a few friends from the kampung. As usual, Su cooked and baked enough food to feed dozens and dozens even though our family here is only around twenty. Now that the birthday parties aren’t such a enormous deal, I find them easier to live through.
Last week passed by without me realizing that the 21st anniversary of my move to Indonesia had arrived. Most of the time it seems that I have lived here far longer than 21 years. Occasionally, now, I get these little flashes where I’m in another place and another time. The other place and other time being a place and time where I’ve been before. But, that’s a whole other issue probably related to the three strokes last year. So, 21 years in Indonesia. I’ve lived on three islands during that time, held a number of different teaching/administrative jobs, and produced four kids with my wife. I’d probably be more serene and satisfied with all this if I hadn’t been living in a construction zone for the last five weeks.
Construction continues to go on daily with a crew appearing precisely at 8 am and leaving sometime around 5, although occasionally some of them stay until nightfall. Everything on three floors is coated with a fine layer of dust and banging, drilling, shouting, buzzing invade my consciousness continuously. The concrete roof has been completed, a bale bengong now sits in the middle of the roof (my wife’s idea not mine), the stairs have been finished that lead from the third floor to the roof, and most of the work on repairing my room on the third floor has been completed although, apparently, it could take another ten days or so to complete all this. I have this overwhelming desire to get back to the third floor which is cooler than the family room on the second floor and where I feel comfortable and can write. However, the problems that I have been having with concentration and writing may be related as much to Ramadan as to issues related to construction.
We’re halfway through Ramadan now. Lebaran is about two weeks away now. I’m looking forward to the end of Ramadan not so much because of food (well not at all because of food) but because it creates havoc with sleeping and transportation schedules. Some of the schools here have students coming in to start at 6:00 am which is fairly ridiculous as kids here tend to stay up late watching tv with the family or are out in the kampung or desa with their friends. I’m not sure how these really early times got started but they are about as much in tune with the reality of the modern world as is the U.S. School schedules that revolve around planting and harvest. It’s time schools got in tune with the 21st century. People have electricity and stay up late watching tv and hanging out with friends. The school day does not need to start at 6.
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