Mallapuram

From the lovely Shireen who hopped around India earlier this year. She didn't have enough seeds to finish spelling my name :)

School on a Hill

I'm celebrating December early with a cup of Christmas blend, and my very first too. My Bat Town adventures suddenly seem so far away, even though I've only returned on Saturday night.

Liz came and saved me on Friday afternoon, bearing a gift of a packet of famous duck rice from Johor Bahru. We then decided to look for more good food, and went in search of Barney's, which is apparently the mecca of western food. In the first week the kids had spoken of it in glowing tones, and I was sold.

After over an hour's drive in the rain, we finally found it. We had no idea what to expect (maybe a pseudo-western eatery). But it was good. Our table had decorative plates painted with an array of Harley Davidsons. And they had decent coffee, which is always nice.

The rest of the trip consisted of food and loading the car with more food. We succumbed to Kluang Station and bought tubs of kaya (egg jam) and coffee home, searched for a tau sah pneah bakery and had locally renowned beef noodles. I had redeemed my week-long lack of proper food in a matter of hours.

So I'm home. Back to a life that was paused and on hold for two weeks. Back to the things I left behind in haste and almost forgotten. Back to the humdrum of traffic jams and routine, and my rat-infested office.

Goodbye school on a hill. I will miss the anonymity you've offered me, the seclusion and time for seeking, and the cool temperatures, and all the good things that came along. However, I will not miss the noisy hallways, or the 6.20am pop music wake-up call, or the ugliness that dragged along for the ride.

Carrying bags of stuff and luggage, we walked out of the school in the rain, and thanked the wardens and the troop of security guards. We were getting wet, and the things were weighing us down, but under that grey-cast sky, I've not felt as light as I did that day.

!

Today was a very slow day. I walked slowly, spoke slowly and tried to keep my mind empty. So much heaviness. Upon arriving back in my room I sat on my bed, replied some emails, and fell flat asleep.

Two more days. On Tuesday I'll begin a new class. I've been accumulating 30 hours a week. That's 10 hours more than the limit set. And right after I return I'll be again thrown into a completely new loop, new faces and more cluelessness. Work is always fun. As fun as a roller coaster ride.

I hate roller coasters and I never sit on them.

Liz will arrive in Bat Town tomorrow morning. She'll bring rainbows with her, and the dreariness will be vanquished as we go exploring and find some real food to eat. Maggi noodles, I don't want to see your face for at least 5 months.

New developments have and are unfolding. I'm excited, and it's even more palpable as I'm also excited to see the end of this week. It's so exciting, I'm bouncing in my room (no, actually I'm on the floor grading papers).

Quiet times in my room and reading have helped. Everyday from far I can see a strange stupa-shaped monument at the edge of the massive football field, painted in bright colours. For some strange reason it reminds me of our September adventures, and I instantly feel better. And yes, I might finally be able to click my camera tomorrow.

Maybe I'll bounce just a little now.

Ebbing

A post a day. Where do I find time to write? I have time. Plenty of time. After lessons I go back to my room, have a freezing cold shower, make dinner and then...there's time.

I've learnt to make instant noodles sans stove/fire, by soaking them in hot water. It requires some waiting though (not so instant this way), and the texture isn't quite the same. For dessert I had cake (from Aunty Jo!) with Nutella. I have Nutella with everything. I even have Nutella with Nutella.

However this diet has suddenly decided that it cannot remain or stay kind to my bowels, and that there has to be a price to pay. I'm paying it now.

This week feels different from the first. Less of a wreck, but slower. Maybe familiarity weighs time down. I enjoy the company of the kids more, and the important and heavy bits of the teaching have already been dealt with last week anyway. But I believe this new lightness comes as a result of those who held and covered me in prayer when I was too bent and tired to go on my knees alone.

There's a mission to complete by the end of this (besides emerging unscathed and un-malnourished). To seek and pray for something that I cannot do on my own. Even epic amounts of enthusiasm/optimism will not do. It needs something way more than that. And when that is carved out, life will get even more uncertain than two weeks in an unknown town.

Uncertain, but certain that this uncertainty is meant to be.

Uncertainty. I think I've overused that word in the past month - it has become an anthem of sorts.

Goodnight, Tuesday

A rope trick used to illustrate His amazing detangling power. One pull, and all the knots unravel.
Part of our repertoire in telling stories about a God we hope they'll come to know.


The new header and the above photos were taken by her.

Fodder

This place (which I've come to refer to as Bat Town) is beginning to be a fodder for the absurd, surreal and maybe comical.

I've arrived, and am now nicely in my room, all cleaned up and ready catch some sleep. The hallways are alive with kids, and the loudspeaker is pouring out announcements I don't understand.

Welcome back to Bat Town.

The train was delayed, so I was slightly uncomfortable at the thought of arriving after nightfall. As I sat down my seat partner looked even more uncomfortable. The train ride was unremarkable, knobbly and erratic, reeking of stale cigarette smoke and unwashed hair. When it rained it slowed down long enough for me to finish several chapters of this book.

Arriving at the station there was no taxi to be found. 40 minutes on I decided to walk down into town and try to find the bus terminal. After asking for directions from policemen and a burger stall operator, and trudging on foot for about 15 minutes I saw a fleet of old taxis.

Thankfully I packed light.

But unfortunately I hopped into the cab of a slightly off and creepy driver. I no speak Mandarin, he no understand. So I gestured and tried to speak Malay/English/Cantonese. And all the way he kept speaking to me in Malay about something I know not. It sounded like a cross between ranting and complaining. After finding out I understand Cantonese he then shot off in Mandarin, getting all friendly, yapping then asking me if I agreed (to which I stared out of the window) and then started to laugh and HE WOULDN'T STOP TALKING, even after I got out and crossed the road, I could still hear his voice going on and on.

I quickly ran into the school.

Five more days. A lovely weekend full of niceties and love that will tide me through. I think I would seem quite spoiled and hopeless by now. But thank you <3

The Day Before

A bag of fruits, a container of cake. Some Balinese coffee and some batteries. I left my Chinon in the school's guestroom, hoping perhaps, that it'll be used on our road trip home on Sunday.
My lack of a second language and my constant embarassment about it could have led to starvation, if not for reconstituted food products. I could walk out to the shops and stumble through basic communication for a plate of rice/noodles, but I prefer the safety of my room, and the stillness it provides. Whenever I walk out, I make myself vulnerable. When I wear my black pointy shoes and step out, I wear somebody over me. When I retreat into my room, it is removed and I find a moment of rest.

Maybe these past seven months is to give clarity and shape what is to come. I cannot wait for April to arrive. The beginning of another phase of uncertainty, but this time, uncertainty that will have been made certain by what is happening now, and had happened this year.

Tomorrow I'll board the train, with my bag packed with fresh laundry, food and love.