Pages from the Journal of My Journey with Jesus

Little snapshots captured in my memories but not in a camera.

I am sitting on the railing outside our rooms, a one storey drop behind me, and Mat repeatedly comes up to me and pushes me while holding on to my shoulders tightly, so I don’t actually fall. I scream as many times as he pretend to push me. And I hit him twice as many times as he threatens to push me.

I am standing at the edge of a fish pond and, unknown to me, Pak Craig comes up behind me. He pushes me while holding on to my shoulders tightly. I yell, “OI!” and the top of my lungs.

Little Grace is small enough to fit between the railing and she makes full use of that and plays, weaving in and out.

The taste of the chocolate buns. No explanation needed.

The stampede of children running towards each of us during our introductory game.

The look on Kevin’s face as Elin takes out a splinter from his paw hand.

The look on Kevin’s face as he attempts to remove a splinter from Elin’s hand.

Being awoken by tickles from Cl and hit by pillows by Kevin. Apparently, I should be thankful he didn’t use a 2X4 or a wet fish. I wake up in laughter, the best way to wake up.

Novi waiting outside a class for us during her recess and when we are finally out, coming towards me and asking me if I knew “King of Majesty”. And CW playing the guitar as we sang to it.

Novi crying when we told her we were going off on Monday.

Me, asking to have five minutes, and walking out of the meeting because I needed to walk off the anxiety of having seen a huge spiderweb near the foot of my bed. And Cl, calling out to me, running up to me, hugging me, and comforting me.

My panic attack scale of one to ten. Nine is where I cry, ten is where I can’t breathe. And my dropping to a negative five at the peak of Mt Hope.

The taste of pineapple leaves.

The taste and texture of soursop juice on the tongue after an emotionally and physically trying climb up Mt Hope. And the satisfaction of giving up something so very treasured and delicious to friends whom you love.

The feel of a seven-month-old baby in my arms. And my excitement at the excitement of the baby wanting to be held by me.

The way Gc wakes me up the way my mother does, gently.

The way I shared, for no apparent reason, to a bunch of people I have only known for six days, that I was seeing a psychiatrist and the struggles I had in making that decision.

Being able to translate, albeit lousily, from English to Malay.

The way I cried before the first verse of the first song was even over during a small worship session we had, just the team. And the way everyone prayed for me with love and without judgment. And the way we prayed for each other with love and without judgment.

The taste of the keropok thing, made by the pastor’s in-laws. And the way I had about ten “last one”s.

Riding in a dump truck with the wind, and at times rain, against my hair and face.

Swimming in a cool, clean river.

The feel of Kevin’s pillow against my face during a meeting at 10 p.m. after having only gotten a few hours of sleep for the past few nights. And the agony of not being allowed to fall asleep.

The look on David’s face when we gave him the chocolate cake-replacement with candles on his birthday after a whole day of playing pranks on him.

The pranks we played on David. Throwing water at him, flour at him, eggs at him. It’s a tradition there.

The taste of the delicious cake Melani made.

The sound of Pak Malcolm, a Kiwi, speaking Bahasa Indonesia. Very fluently.

The taste of Milo after being deprived of it for several days.

My first time eating Veggiemite on toast. (not really something I would do again unless in danger of starvation)

There is so much more I would love to write.

I learned a new song in Kalimantan.

I see no correlation whatsoever between the verse and the chorus but the kids there absolutely love it.

King Kong badannya besar,
tapi aneh kakinya pendek,
Lebih aneh binatang bebek,
Lehernya panjang, kakinya pendek.

Chorus:
Hallelujah, Tuhan maha kuasa,
Hallelujah, Tuhan maha kuasa.

Hilarious, really.

My first time away from home for this long, I am glad to say that I had really great friends to be with me. Eight of us went, 2 nyonyas, 2 babas, 2 malaysians and 2 angmohs. 4 girls, 4 guys. I only met them about four days before we were scheduled to leave. I’ll be honest and say that I love the team. I don’t know how or why we bonded so well but we did and thank God for that.

I only took a few photos because the other Malaysian’s camera looked so professional that I was certain my shaky fluoxetine hand photos would look like crap compared to hers. Ok, fine, I always forget to take my camera out.

I’ll post some which are on me.

This is Balai Karangan, the nearest town, a mere ten to fifteen minute walk away.

It has one supermarket where I bought a pair of jandals after my Buy And Throw Away sandals died on me. The selection of chocolates there were close to nothing and were not very appetising.

On our first day, Pak Malcolm took us on a tour of Balai Karangan. Unfortunately, we only got up to this river before it started to rain.

The bridge that crosses the river proved to be a very nice photo taking opportunity though. The breeze was excellent too.

As it started to pour, we ran for shelter at a nearby shop and I think we stood there for an hour or more.
We sang an action song: “Yesus pokok, dan kitalah cabangnya”. The tune to it, I’ve forgotten.
We bullied the youngest in the group. (the whole trip was spent bullying the youngest in the group)
We watched the rain water form little rivers on the asphalt road.
We watched the little boys throw their slippers on those little rivers and awe at the way they float to the end of the road.
We bought packet after packet of junk food.
We bought bottle after bottle of mineral water.
I loved it there and if I was alone, I would have sat down on the floor and started writing. I was just so taken by the cool air, the children playing, the laughter, the everything. I could not fathom, then, that this was a mere teaser of the beauty that was to come the following days. It was a perfect start to a perfect week.

We also passed some plantations.

Mt Hope TC itself has lots of land and edible plants like corn, winter melon, long beans and some other stuff. They also have a pen of pigs and a mother pig with thwee wittle peee-ge-lets. Utterly adorable.

They also have a few goats. I pat the kid. *grins*

In this trip, I also pat a cow (seriously) and a frog. The latter of which I am not sure if it was alive because it was sitting so still in one of the kid’s grip.

It is in this light that I find it weird that I did not pat a single of the many dogs which were roaming the compound. I did pat a few children though…

There was one little kid, Grace (pronounced a little like ‘grass’), who is four years old, and has hair as smooth as a… little girl’s. She was adorable! I liked her best because she didn’t speak much, if at all. Dia tidak bisa bicara bahasa Indonesia.

*to be continued*

In Sarawak now. Blogging after 8 painful days of not. It wasn’t that bad actually, I was so tired by each night that I didn’t have time to journal let alone blog.

The kids were adorable. They were so forthcoming with their love and affection. There was this girl who’d hug us every time she saw us. The kids were really cool. What really hit me most about them was that they were so helpful and hardworking. The kids helped us in throwing out the bulky rubbish, like pieces of planks and other big heavy things. They also helped in pulling nails out of the planks. And building a clothesline. They were a lot more efficient than we were.

I also climbed up a mountain and saw three different colours of spiders.

p.s. I finally found the draft I was referring to in my previous post. Eheh…

………..

I saved a post which I wrote halfway about the trip but I don’t know where to find it.

Anyway, I’m in Kuchinig now. Will be catching a plane to Senai this evening.

I cannot believe that the trip is over. It felt so short yet so long at the same time. It felt long because I had so many experiences during the trip, it felt short because I was enjoying myself so much that time just flew. Day after day, suddenly, it was time to go home.

It wasn’t that ulu, thankfully. There was running water, fridge, mobile phone reception, and other things necessary for living. The food was delicious an I quite honestly believe that I’ve gained weight.

The kids there were utterly adorable. They were oozing with love. They were so helpful and hardworking too. They helped us with the work we were supposed to do like building the clothesline and throwing the bulky rubbish away. (“away” would not correctly describe it)
We also climbed up Mt Hope one day. A tiny little hill which almost killed me. The kids brought us up, they knew the path so much better than any of us did. Even though they were supposedly not allowed up there, hmm… The mountain, and I say mountain because my ego is too big to admit that I had difficulty climbing a little hill, was not climbed often and the trek was, therefore, not very easy to walk. There were parts that were so steep that we had to literally climb up. I saw three different colours of spiders on my way up, I did not count how many actual spiders I saw. There were countless spiderwebs. Cried on the way up, Dave prayed for me and comforted me. I’m glad I didn’t bring alprazolam up because if I had taken it, the beauty of the view from the peak would probably be lost on me. By the time we reached the peak, I was so high on adrenaline, I felt like nothing could faze me. (nobody threw on me a three inch tarantula so I will never know for sure) The view was so gorgeous that gorgeous does not do justice to the view. The sky was blue and looked like I could just swim in its peace forever. The swallows were flying but a few metres above our heads. We could see the town (yes, there was a little town). Everything was utterly gorgeous.
It is at times like those when I wonder how on earth can anyone say that there wasn’t a Creator behind such beauty.
I ate a bit of pineapple leaves at the peak, as the children were.
I should also add that the children were the one who tried to find the easiest ways up that side of the mountain. And that for the parts where we had difficulty, they pulled some of us *cough* including me *cough cough* up.
It got dark as we were descending so I cannot tell you how many spiders and spiderwebs were there then. For most part, we slid down on our backsides. Ok, fine, it was just a few of us who were sliding on our bums, there were two behind me who refused to do that and ended up kicking stones at my behind.
The adrenaline made me a little insane that day but lets not go into that. What happens in Kalimantan stays in Kalimantan.

To be continued…