Snakes, Spiders, Frogs, and other Australian Wildlife

My first night in Darwin, Australia we stayed at Banyon View Lodge - a YMCA hostel. This HUGE stick bug greeted us in our bathroom:

Do you see how the bug is bigger than my hand??

And this was just the beginning. In fact, I like to think this bug was the welcome committee warning, "You ain't seen nothin' yet!"

There were some cute Australian critters. At the aboriginal cultural center outside of Katherine, I got to hold a baby wallabie.

In this case, the baby was not as cute as the mom. I thought the baby looked a bit alien or rat-like (but a whole lot cuter than snakes!)

This green fellow might appear cute. But just imagine him and ten of his friends lining the toilet seat at our campground. 

 

Yep, the frogs liked hanging out on the toilets - guess it was the best source of water they could find. They would peer up at me with their apathetic eyes, just daring me to go to the bathroom. Now imagine having to use the bathroom at night, not knowing if a frog is going to jump out of the toilet at any minute! Horrifying, let me tell you.

But the little green frogs were NOTHING compared to the giant cane toads at the next campground. 

These bulbous creatures are as big as an adult's foot...and poisonous! Their skin secretes a venom that is deadly for small animals and can cause a serious skin irritation for humans. Guess where these lovely animals liked to hang out? 

Yep, the bathrooms. The showers. And the toilets. 

We had the boys go in the bathrooms to scare out all the toads so we could take showers. I've never heard boys holler quite so loud. There was no pretending - we were all afraid of the cane toads. For my closest friends, and I mean closest (those who will not disown me, no matter what) I will share, in person and under strict confidence, what happened when nature called at this campground in the middle of the night. 

Okay. So I can deal with bugs, frogs, and toads. Snakes, on the other hand, make me fly into chicken-flapping-screaming-panic. While walking through the Cutta Cutta Caves 50 km outside of Katherine, our guide pointed out this cave dweller. The stalactites were home to these venomous snakes who fed primarily on bats. Imagine me, huddling through the cave, trying NOT to think about a snake falling on me. 

Here was a non-venomous snake we found at a rest stop.

Our guide thought it would be fun to let the students hold the snake. I was perfectly fine letting the guide hold the snake during my picture. Do I look scared? Cuz I am.

Which gets me to the last "critters" of Australia. The Australians were as colorful and entertaining as all the animals we saw. I found the beer drinking, shirtless men whose burps rivalled thunder, quite charming. Our guide named, "Sauce," (yes, as in tomato sauce) looked every bit of the crocodile dundee Aussie man - from his long scraggly hair and greasy beard to his tan shirt and shorts which I'm pretty sure he never changed out of during our seven day trip. There was Flick, our cook. Her short pixie hair was fuchsia and purple - as bright as bubblegum.  She swore like a sailor and cooked our morning eggs with a cigarette between her lips. But this was nothing compared to the drunk men who flashed us while we walked home from the late movie on Saturday night in Darwin. I think there might have been some silver speedos...but I averted my eyes as fast as I could.

We retreated back to our YMCA oasis to the chorus of "Who let the kids out, who, who, who?" (to the tune of "Who let the dogs out?") An entire bar singing us home.

Australia was definitely an adventure!

Do You Come From the Land Down Under?

10 Days in the Northern Territory of Australia with twenty-two 14 year olds. A recipe for crazy fun, physical challenges, and incredible views of aboriginal land. Three national parks. Seven nights of camping. Here are just the highlights - my favorite moments. I'll post about bugs, reptiles, and "colorful" people in the next few posts.

After two days of acclimating in Darwain at a YMCA hostel, we finally got our first taste of the outback. Here we are in Kakadu National Park where we hiked to the top of a Mesa. The Australian outback spread out before us in all directions. 

I kept having dejevu moments because the outback is so similar to Southern Utah and the four corners area in the US: the mix of spring green trees, rusty red rock, and blue sky. I found myself thinking often of Owen and the time we spent together exploring, hiking, and camping during our courting and first years of marriage. To say I missed him and wished he was with me are huge understatements.

The next day we hiked up to Gunlom plunge pool - a series of natural infinity pools at the top of mesa. I swam in the emerald pools. I felt the heat of the bright sun on my shoulders and back. I listened to the splashing and laughter of the students. I breathed in the warm, clean air. And I looked across the vast expanse of land so primitive, raw, and beautiful - and I was grateful to see nature, such a respite from Jakarta city life. 

 

On day four we kayaked Katherine's Gorge. I was grateful to my Dad for his years of "adventures" - all which prepared me for the hiking, camping, and kayaking. Wayne Kelsey and I were a force to be reckoned with on the river. My years of kayaking in Alaska paid off - I actually knew how to hold the paddle and steer. Some kids literarily couldn't kayak in a straight line. Some went in circles while others zig-zagged through the water, covering twice as much space as they had to. 

 

We beached our kayaks and hiked a short distance to the next gorge. Stunning.

 

My final favorite scenic moment of the trip was our last day in the outback - a hike to Florence Falls in Litchfield National Park. 

We hiked to the double waterfalls. The water was refreshingly cool - almost chilly. Such a refuge from our 95 + degree heat (both day and night). Here I am with Erin, a JIS student from South Africa. We swam to the waterfall, dipped under the pounding water, and touched the slick rock on the other side. 

Besides feeling extremely hot and longing for cold drink of water (the campsites' water was bathwater warm), the overwhelming emotion I felt throughout this trip was gratitude. I never dared dream to see this part of the world. And while I missed my family to the point of aching, I will be forever grateful for their support to let me go to Australia. 

Temple Blessings...in Bali

We arrive in Ubud at 2AM. The streets are strangely quiet, and the stars glitter above us. We are so excited to be here for the Ubud Writer's Conference. But we are too tired to truly appreciate the beautiful hotel, De Munut Balinese Resort, with the multiple pools, gardens, or even our private outdoor shower. We fall into bed utterly exhausted.

The next morning is a new day. I breath in the air, clean with a hint of flowers and fruit. The conference doesn't officially begin until Saturday, so we have a day to explore. Madi and I decide to try something new with my friend Shana (who is also here for the conference). We want to visit the Empul Temple. Our driver, Budi, explains this holy Hindu temple was built in 962AD. For over one thousand years, people have come to the temple to ask for blessings. With an adventurous attitude of "When in Bali do as the Balinese do" we drive north of Ubud to the temple.

Water pours from seventeen small fountains. I try to step into the cold water bravely. The icy water comes to my waist, and I can't see the bottom. We stand in line with a group of Balinese school children. We shiver together, our teeth chattering audibly.

 My feet maneuver blindly on the uneven stones. My toes grasp for balance. And I try not to think about what else might be at the bottom of the pool.

Moss drips with spring water, coating the black stone like carpet on the wall. Koi fish swim around my knees - I see flashes of bright orange and white. I wait in line for my turn. At the first fountain, I am tentative. I quickly duck my head in the water, soaking only the front half of my head and face.  The water is so cold I gasp, then panic reminding myself to keep my mouth closed and not swallow the water. I look up sheepishly at Budi who stands at the edge. "Your whole head" he instructs. "For full blessings, you must wash your whole head."

I am braver at the next fountain and submerge my head in the water. While the ladies in front of me offer their Hindu prayers, I offer my own prayers. I start with gratitude. I pray offering thanks for this day, this experience, my family, living in Indonesia, and my incredible job.

By the sixth and seventh fountain my prayers turn to pleas for blessings - blessings of health, joy for my children, to grow old with my sweet husband, safety, finding the right house for our family next year, publishing a book, health and happiness for my parents. My prayers pour forth like the constant water. And I am swept up in the whole experience. I think of the importance of water in my own religion - baptism, sacrament, washings and annointings. And by the time I've prayed and washed seventeen times, I feel very blessed indeed. 

Here we are at the end. Before getting out, I look down the long pool at the Balinese people waiting in line, and I know we are more alike than different. All of us pray for blessings. 

On the way out of the temple grounds, we walk through rows of shops and stalls. This beautiful Balinese child sands a Buda statue.  

She works alongside her mother. We pause for a moment to watch and admire. When we round the corner, I reach out and link arms with my own daughter. I am so grateful to be here with Madi. And I know absolutely, to be here in Bali with my daughter to attend a Writer's Conference, life doesn't get much better than this.

A new library for the Leprosy School

We get lost three times down the narrow, twisting roads, before finally arriving at the pink school behind the rumah sakit (hospital) in Tangerang.

But the search has been well worth it. The children of the leprosy village greet us with beaming smiles.

We arrive to attend the grand opening of the school's first library. Lena Paul, our relief society president, guided the project which involved cleaning and painting a storage room to convert it to a library. And then collecting and donating bookshelves and books.  

We enter the classroom and take turns reading a book from the new library. A missionary from Solo reads in the photo below:

We sing "Popcorn Popping" and "Primary Colors." But the favorite, by far, is "Head, Shoulder, Knees, and Toes."

Then the library tour! Oh the joy. The students file out of the class giggling with excitement, holding hands, smiling.

Then the strangest thing happens. The students stop just outside the library door. They pool at the bottom of the staircase. At first I think, "What's wrong?" Then I look closer. The children bend over to  remove their shoes as a show of respect. They line their shoes carefully on the ledge and enter the library.

A first look at the library.

Here, this darling boy puts his shoes back on after coming back from the library.

Following the library tour, we hand out a small bag to each child. The contents are simple: a pen, a sharpened pencil, and a small notebook. But you would have thought we were handing out tickets to Disney Land. Many of these children have never actually owned their very own pencil and pen before. 

What makes this moment even more special is the knowledge that the pens and pencils have been donated by Karen, my dear friend. Handing each pencil to their outstretched hand is like handing them love from my friend on the other side of the world. 

We walk to a stall at the edge of the school grounds to buy some bottled water. Packaged peanuts, bags of krupuk chips, boxed juices line the stall's shelves. A group of adults ask to take pictures with us. While one man holds his phone to take a picture, I notice the fingers on his right hand are missing and stunted to the middle knuckle as is the index finger on his left hand - a sure sign of leprosy. We converse with them. We shake their hands. They are the parents of the children at the school. 

As with all things here in Indonesia, although we have come to celebrate and to give a library and school supplies to this community, we leave with full hearts. 

My heart is grateful for children's smiles, for handshakes, for books, for a friend whose children sharpened 650 pencils to give to people thousands of miles away, and for the opportunity to meet a group of people who have so much stigma and physical pain but also have so much joy. 

Morning Drive

We pile in the car. We are a tangle of backpacks, instruments, laptops, lunch bags, and breakfast. I balance a red plastic bowl in my lap with my favorite breakfast: mixed berry yogurt with homemade granola (Katie's recipe), and my cocktail of vitamins (vitamin D, vitamin B, and acai berry).

Margono drives the car through the morning traffic. We stop suddenly as a motorcycle cuts in front of us. I hold tight to my bowl and waterbottle as an Ibu crosses the road flapping her hand at us (Indonesia's signal to let someone pass). Margono swerves to miss the occasional chicken and cat.

And somehow this mayhem of our morning routine has all become quite normal.

Inside the car, we eat, we chat, and we sometimes read (though the sudden stops and starts often lead to carsickness if we're not paying attention). We look outside at the hanging laundry, the bird cages, the motorcycle repair shops whose cement floors are black with grease, the colorful vegetable carts, and the children in their clean, pressed uniforms on their way to school.

My favorite part of these morning rides are the unique conversations I have with the kids. This week, Madi and I shared a choice moment.

Madi: "Look Mom, there's a monkey!" (Pause) "On a chain" (said sadly). "With his own tree house!" (Happy again).
I crane my neck to spot the monkey. Sure enough, there he is on a tree branch with a chain around his ankle. 
Madi: "I want a pet monkey."
I'm not sure how to respond to this so I say nothing.
Madi continues: "But what I really want is a bengal tiger!"
Me (in my mother-voice): "Bengal tigers are dangerous."
Madi: "Not when they are young. When they're young they're like kittens."
Me: "So at what point would the tiger be too old for us to keep?"
Madi pauses, thoughtfully. Then with absolute seriousness she says, "I suppose we'd know the tiger is too old when it eats Charlotte."

It was a good thing Charlotte was not present to hear about her sacrificial position in our family.

While we sometimes use our car time to philosophise and catch-up, very often our conversations (as demonstrated above) lean toward the absurd.

Perhaps it's the exhaust and delusion-inducing nausea??

Someone Got Braces!!

One week ago, Leasie got braces!

We opted to do braces here in Jakarta because of the cost savings (about 2/3 price of braces in America). While we had horrible, torturous experiences here our first year with dentists, the orthodontics seems to be very good.

We chose Hilly Dental because of its good reputation and close proximity to our house. Leasie and I walked to Hero grocery store, then took a Bajai for $2 the rest of the way. Ten minutes from the moment we left our house, we entered the waiting room. (That's a record for going anywhere in Jakarta!)

The dental office reminds me of Balinese villas because it is a series of small buildings connected by courtyards with Koi fish ponds and blooming lilies. I think the ambiance comforted Leasie's nerves.

One hour later she had a gleaming silver smile! I think it makes her look at least two years older!

She's been a trooper - she didn't complain too much about her sore mouth, she brushes her teeth diligently, and she's been careful to avoid popcorn (a true sacrifice!)

Only 9 months to go...

Sometimes the World Comes into Focus

There are moments in my life when events and experiences seem to trigger something in my heart and soul. And it is as if there is a tangible click. Often, these moments help me see the world in a new way, and I see my place in the world in a new way.

These past few days, such an experience occurred.

One of my colleagues in the high school English dept, Shana Gilbert, used to be a producer of documentaries. This past week she got a call from a former student who was shooting a short film that will be shown at the Global Citizen concert in central Park at NYC on Sept. 28. (Click on the link to watch a PR video on the event).

The filmmakers originally planned to make the film in India, but with Visa complications, they needed a new venue. With my Shana's support and a quick script rewrite, they jumped on a plane and arrived in Jakarta Friday night.

I was mostly on the peripheral of this whole experience. But I did get to bring two of my English classes to a presentation and Q&A session with the filmmakers. We listened to Jonathan Olinger talk about the filming process and watch raw footage of the film.Their short film is about an Indonesian mother in the future (the year 2045) who tells a bedtime story to her daughter about what poverty used to look like. Then the film flashes back to the present (2013) where we see a young girl living in the slums of Jakarta and her challenges.

In the raw footage we saw poignant scenes of a young Indonesian girl born with all the disadvantages you can imagine. She was beautiful on many levels in the midst of crumbling buildings, laundry strung between tin shacks, and barefeet on dirt floors. Her genuine smile and equally genuine hurt represented humanism and optimism in the most humble circumstances.

While watching the film, something inside me clicked. The young Indonesian girl in the film represented the poverty I see and accept every day here in Jakarta. And somehow seeing it on film made my heart break. You see, I have the luxury of teaching and philosophising about global controversies like poverty and women's rights in a nice, clean classroom knowing that when school is finished I will return home to a house with running water and electricity. Education isn't a bonus, it's an expectation. Food on the table isn't even in my top list of 100 worries. Access to good medical care is guaranteed. I have so much to be grateful for...and such a responsibility to give back.

I felt extremely inspired by the filmmaker, Jonathan Olinger of dtj.org, who as one of my students said, "Restored my hope in humanity." In a very simple way, he has dedicated his life to make a difference in this world. I was inspired by his story and his calm passion about what our world can truly become.

On Sept. 28, 60,000 people will watch this short film in NYC and 1.5 million more will watch in live via the internet. But it's something I see every day in Jakarta. In a moment of rare clarity I realized how powerful even the smallest change can be.

It's not about the NYC concert. It's not about film. It's not about teaching or students. It's not even about these ambitious, but attainable, UN Global Citizen goals. It is about one person having a vision for what our future world could be and deciding to make a difference right now.

Just a few pictures:

On the set of the short film (future 2045 setting).

 On the set in the slums of Jakarta:

In the classroom, hearing Jonathan talk about his experience as a documentarian (I'm in the back row):

Now when my students or my own children ask the question, "What can I do?" I have a concrete example.

There are good people in the world doing good things.

They inspire me to be better and do more.

The world has so many thunderous problems. But it also has so many amazing people.

We just need to choose to act.