Sentani: Everything New

The mountains are soft and green. Waterfalls long and wide visible from miles away cascade over dense jungle terrain. White clouds sag around mountain peaks. On the ground Indonesians and Papuans move along at a steady pace mostly on foot and by motorcycle. The air is hot but clean and the streets are dirty. Row after row of small shops crowd together forming a town center.

Sentani is at once richly beautiful and stereotypically impoverished. We are honoured to live here.

Our new home, just built, is nearly ready for move in. Along the bottom of a mountain and up a red dirt road, our home is a small apartment size row house. The row houses directly across the road from us are still being built. About two minute walk away is an Indonesian church that we plan to attend, perhaps alternating Sundays with an expat church. We hope to build solid relationships with our neighbors.

While work continues on our home we are staying at a guest house. The guest house is a stopping point for international workers coming in and out of the island’s interior. Men, women, whole families living and working among the isolated tribal groups sit at the breakfast table and share their lives and stories with us. In eight months or so once we have a firm grasp of the language these, or individuals like them, Ben will support through helicopter flights.

On Monday we begin language school with a Papuan teacher. Isaiah also has a Papuan teacher and will learn the language through play, song, and dance. Part of his schooling is to attend an hour long Indonesian children’s play group each morning. Our schooling is more formal with scheduled classes and mandatory afternoon practice out on our own in the community.

Already, life in Sentani is not without challenges. I am learning that everything takes a long time and even with plans agreed, the plans may change. I am learning the meaning of an Indonesian “blessed minute” and also “rubber time”. Allowing grace when things don’t go according to schedule.

Everything is new. I have so much to learn. I am eager to do it!

Whose issues to expose - mine or his?

Perhaps you’ve seen them too. The “Reasons my son is crying” photo series floating around. Pictures of children tantruming for the most ridiculous reasons. The boy who can’t find the red balloon which is right behind him. Or the girl who got paint on her fingers while finger painting. Cheeks red with frustration, tears and snot streaming down little faces.

My first response was to laugh, no doubt the bloggers intent. Hey, I totally identify with that. I thought. After all, identifying with other adults who live in the totally insane and irrational world of parenting feeds my sanity. My daily survival depends on it.

But identifying with the Mom at the grocery store who is fighting mightily to keep her cool while her child tantrums about wanting soda, and posting photos of the tantrum on the internet are two very different things. Grocery store mom I meet in my actual life and I see both sides of the story. We give each other knowing and encouraging glances. I want to high five her. “You’re doing a great job!” I cheer with a smile. Sometimes she does the same for me.

There is a lot of talk on mommy blogs about being real and authentic when it comes to parenting. I’m good with that, but here’s the thing. While I can easily post pictures of my three year old’s tantrums for everyone to see and get a good laugh at, I’m totally safe. My own issues avoid exposure. My son can’t take a photo of me and post with a caption, “Here’s the time my mom lost it because I wouldn’t stop singing.”  (true story)

He can’t, but I can. I can write about how I’m hanging my heart on Proverbs 15:1 “A gentle answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger.” Hanging on this verse and ones like it because I’m stressed and when I’m stressed I speak sharp words. 

I can write authentically about the state of my own heart.

"Will Isaiah attend school in Papua?"

"So, your family is moving to Indonesia for three years? What an exciting adventure!" begins the conversation.
"Yes, its been a long time coming so we are really looking forward to it." My eager smile and the day dreamy look in my eyes are genuine. Even just a month away from leaving I still can't believe that we are actually going.
"I suppose there is a school there and lots of children for Isaiah to play with?"
"There is an international school, but it's quite a bit above our budget so we are going to home school."
And here the conversation usually moves on to four common questions. These questions seemed to be a good topic for a mommy blog post, so here they are...And if you have any that I didn't cover, but are curious about please ask!
  
Oh, wow! How does that work?
If we were living in the US or the UK, Isaiah would likely start a half day 3-4year old pre-school program this September. Since we'll be living in Papua for three years, we'll home school for pre-school, pre-kindergarten and kindergarten.

Isaiah's pre-school home school year does not include any lessons. We are bringing a beautiful collection of children's literature and a couple games.
Goals for pre-school are:
1. Spend lots of fun quality time with Papi and Mommy: reading books, playing, travelling, meeting new friends, helping with chores, etc.
2. Learn Indonesian culture and language: playing, making new friends, shopping, etc.

That's it. Forget about teaching colors, shapes, counting and letters (actually he's picking up a lot without formal teaching anyway). Priority number one is keeping close as a family and adjusting to life in a foreign country. Lessons can wait a year.

For Pre-K and Kindergarten we purchased curriculum from Sonlight. This is a widely used literature based program that seems like it will be a good fit for our little story lover. We already have and love the children's books from Sonlight's pre-school collection. Even if Isaiah were in school, I'd want these books for a home library.  

Will there be other children to play with?
Our home will be in a regular neighbourhood (not on a compound) and we hope there will be plenty of children living close around us. We'll also attend church and be intentional about looking for other opportunities and places to make friends. If you've met Isaiah you know that he is extremely outgoing. My bet is he will be quicker to find friends than I will!

Are you going to have to be at home all the time?
This is one of the most beautiful aspects of home schooling. We are not confined to one place for the majority of the day. I am hopeful that the flexibility home schooling provides will give me the opportunity to be involved with different events and groups outside of our home.  

Do you have any experience with children's education?  
Only my own. I was home schooled until 15 years old and then attended a public high school. I have many fond memories of my home schooling years.

Having been home schooled myself, I always assumed I'd home school my own children. I am glad to have the next three years to do so with Isaiah. Still, sometimes there is an overwhelming sense of "Oh no, I could really screw this up!" But then again I think the whole of parenting sometimes leaves me shaking with a sense of the immense responsibility forming a little life brings.

Perhaps in the future Isaiah will attend a traditional school. For now, a little shaky but full of hope, we embark on the adventure of schooling at home.

And if you have any advice, fun memories, wish-you'd-knowns, or wish-you-hads, from your own schooling (at home or otherwise) experiences I'd love to hear them.

"Don't Worry. Kids are Adaptable."

3:59 this morning I awoke to the sound of my son crying in his bed. "What's wrong, Isaiah?" I ask stroking his hair. "I'm sad. Sing a song with me." comes the quiet reply. After a quick trip to the potty we snuggle back in bed and I sing our own little song, "Mommy loves you, loves Isaiah, Papi loves you, loves Isaiah..." His eyes close slowly and sleep returns.

In the last 10 months our family has visited 5 different countries, traveled by car and plane over 4,000 miles within the US, and now live out of suitcases in our fourth home. We've made many wonderful memories and new friends in our journeys. Still, adventure loving or not, my little one craves and needs routine and stability just much as any other child. So what's a Papi and Mommy to do?

We start by considering how we would want Isaiah to remember his childhood when he is grown. We want him to look back on these years with great fondness and to develop a lifetime love of other cultures and people. We want him to grow up with the conviction that how he lives matters and that he can have a tremendous impact for good in the world. We want him to see and trust God in every facet of life. We want Isaiah to know deeply that we are in this together and that what he feels, even as a three year old, matters.

So we attach at the hip and include our little guy as much as possible in everything. We give opportunity for independence, but do not demand or expect it. We recognize the behavior pattern insecurity brings when moving to a new place and use informative and reassuring words, loads of cuddles, and quality time to keep it at bay. We admit that we are sad and miss our friends too. We pray together multiple times throughout each day.

Often, well meaning people remark, "You don't need to worry about Isaiah. Kids are just so adaptable." My thoughts? Yes, kids are adaptable, but I don't want Isaiah to just adapt. I want him to thrive.

God's Greater Story: More than Beauty

Like many other girls, I long wished my body was more closely aligned with our culture's standard of beauty. Wishing my thick, dark brown, wavy hair to be thinner, lighter, and straighter. My dark brown eyes to be green to blue. I've wished for defined cheek bones and straighter hips.

The church's response to the culture emphasizes to young women that we are uniquely made and beautiful in God's eyes. A few years ago I read a book by a christian author that instructed readers to stand naked in front of a mirror and thank God for each part of their body. Yeah, that didn't fix anything for me...I have listened as churches, inspirational speakers, books, Facebook posts, even Lady GaGa (!), all in unison declare: "I'm beautiful in my way 'cause God makes no mistakes".

There I was, amid all this womanly hurrah, still lost in dissatisfaction with my body.

It wasn't until recently that I realized "uniquely beautiful" is only a very small part of what it means to be fearfully and wonderfully made. God's greater story is at work in my body.

It's happened too many times to count. Once, at my job, an Egyptian mistook me for being Egyptian. At a restaurant the Indian waiter mistook me for being Indian. A friend's Peruvian mother mistook me for being Peruvian. I have been assumed to be Guatemalan, Italian, Mexican, Pakistani... and each time, with a laugh, I say, "No, I'm from Texas!"

Yes, God's greater story is at work in my body. I have a God given purpose to minister to people of other cultures and He has crafted my body in such a way that I am easily accepted. No added barrier of being "foreign" with blue eyes and blond hair. My body is uniquely, beautifully, purposefully made.

Consider the blind man in the bible about whom Jesus said, "This happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." And Queen Esther, whose physical beauty captivated the King, and she saved her people, the Jews, from annihilation. Consider Eric Little, the Scottish runner whose story is told in the movie Chariots of Fire, who said "I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure." I know of a surgeon who says the same things about his steady hands. And then there's Nick Vujicic, born without arms and legs, who ministers to millions all over the world. 

I marvel at God's greater story. He gifted me with talents, desires, and a purposefully created body all working together for one intent - to display and to be God's love in the world in such a way as only I can. 
 

For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are Your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand — when I awake, I am still with You.

Psalm 139:13-18