ONE LAST FLING

Dearest Friends,

By the time we left Doss, John was running out of vacation. We headed back to Dallas so he could regroup before heading out on one last little adventure -- a father-daughter road trip! He was sooooo looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with Alexis, something he hadn't had much opportunity for since their Indian Princess campouts together when she was five or six. His primary goal was to deliver her to the aquatics camp she was to attend at Texas State University in San Marcos, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to swing by UT first, maybe do a little brain-washing while he had the chance. (Alas, that plan backfired big time -- she ended up choosing Texas State over UT!)

Lexie's roommate Lizzy, a friend from Indonesia

Once he was back in Dallas, he barely had time to pack his bags before having to return to Indonesia. I think he sort of dreaded going back alone, for there would be no furry friend there to greet him this time. While we were in Odessa we had got a phone call from our next door neighbor Judy in Indonesia. Apparently our housekeeper Asnah had come to her in a panic when she noticed there was something wrong with our beloved dog Munchkin, but she wanted us to know that she had called in the vet, and they were doing everything they could.

A few days later she had the onerous task of informing us that Munchkin had passed on. I have never been so torn. On one hand, I felt devastated over not being there to comfort Munchie in her final days. On the other, I felt guilty relief over not having to see her suffer. It had certainly been a summer for facing hard truths. Not only had we lost our beloved pet of almost fifteen years -- our first child, really -- we also had to face up to the fact that John's father was never going to get better, and his mother was teetering on the edge. Then we had to face up to the dwindling size of the school on our compound, and that by the end of the coming school year, there'd be almost no one left in Lexie's age group. Could we send her to boarding school? I don't think so. All of this meant, of course, that we needed to return to the States much sooner than planned, and there would be no point to, and no money for, buying a vacation home in the Hill Country just yet. Once the seed was planted, though, it never died. The following week, when my sister Carolyn and I returned to fetch Alexis, we took our time. We traveled the backroads, checking out little towns like Boerne and Comfort. Just in case. Some day.

Sister Carolyn in our room at the Crystal River Inn, in San Marcos

LIFE CHANGES: HOME LEAVE '93

Hangin' with the Price kids in Oatmeal

Dearest Friends,

When we first took our kids to live in Sumatra, we knew that the school only went up through 8th grade, and since we didn't plan on sending Lex away to boarding school, we knew we'd be wanting to move home about then.  After spending our entire first summer living out of suitcases, hopping from one house to another, we came up with the brilliant idea of purchasing a little cottage in the Hill Country that could be our vacation home for now, and eventually, our retirement home. Instead of our bouncing around all summer, the friends and relatives could come spend time with us in the Hill Country!  Brilliant, no? So, early on in this year's home-leave-planning, we made sure to include stops in Doss and Oatmeal, to scope things out, and even found Lex a camp to go to in San Marcos, which was near another favorite town, Wimberley.

No, he doesn't have a wandering eye. He's just at that stage where he felt the need to cross them for every photo.

Our first stop was in Ohio, where it was much cooler than we expected. Good thing we had sweaters in our carry-ons! John had a week-long school to attend in Cincinnati, and his brother's family lived not too far away in Middletown, so we got to spend lots of time with them while there.

John's twin brother -- who happens to be several years older than him. I could always look at him and say "OK, this is what my hubby will look like in about 5 years!"

At the end of the week we flew to Dallas, where we had left our Taurus station wagon with my folks. John drove straight out to Odessa the next day, but wanted the kids and I to stay in Dallas a little while longer. The reports we'd been getting regarding his father were so dismal, I think John needed time to adjust to the situation alone. He was probably worried about breaking down in front of the kids, and wanted to have his happy face in place by the time we got there. Not an easy task, since they had given up on trying to rehabilitate George in any way, and he had steadily deteriorated into a mean-spirited, over-sexed, wheel-chair-bound, diaper-wearing toddler -- not uncommon for someone who's had multiple strokes.

We arrived the following weekend, just in time to send Theda, who was in desperate need of a vacation, off to Ohio for a few days, to attend our nieces high school graduation. The kids went to a sports day camp over at the local college each morning during our 3-week stay, we took turns going for physical and dental checkups, and we met up with some of our old friends from Midland (just 20 minutes away) whenever we could. Apparently I didn't take a single photo while we were with George and Theda. I guess it was just too depressing. By the end of our stay there, we needed some serious cheering up, so we headed straight to College Station, to spend time with our dearest friends, Paula and Tim.

They were just what the doctor ordered! From there we headed to the Hill Country. First stop was spending the day with our friends Mark and Ann, who lived in the country near a cute little town called Oatmeal, which is near Bertram, which is near Burnett, which is near Marble Falls...if you keep going, you'll eventually reach a town you've actually heard of.  Anyhoo, when we first came to visit them here as newlyweds, I remember saying "Well, it's a great place to visit, but I don't think I could live there. It's just way too far from a mall or a movie theater!" The more we visited though, over the years, the more my opinion began to shift.

(to be continued)

DOC CONNOLLY

Dearest Friends,

One of the most critical deciding factors, as to whether we would accept this gig in Sumatra, was medical care. It was one thing to put our own lives at risk (as we did our first time overseas, with no real doctor or hospital anywhere close to us), quite another when it came to our kids. We never would have agreed to the move had not Danny and Peggy assured us that, with Doc Connolly in attendance, we had absolutely no cause for worry. I figured they should know, since their youngest probably had to be stitched up or x-rayed on a regular basis!

Doc Connolly today -- Lord of the Manor

Turns out, they were absolutely right. I think the best way to describe our Doc would be to tell you to picture Doc Martin, if you've ever watched that British TV series -- only picture him better looking, and without the Asperger's. Doc Connolly was not a warm, fuzzy kind of doctor. He was a very British, somewhat brusque fellow, who wasn't about to put up with any nonsense. I must admit to feeling rather intimidated on the few occasions that I had to take my kids to see him. I kept expecting him to whip out a ruler and whack me on the knuckles, if I didn't pay close enough attention to his instructions and had to ask him to repeat something. That was ok though, because the only thing that really mattered was, I'd trust him with our lives -- literally!

Away from work, he could be quite a lot of fun, but that was the problem, I suppose. The poor man was never really away from work! He was on-call 24/7, and since all his friends were also his patients, it was a bit impossible for him to avoid us, and our incessant need for reassurance on this or that little thing.

The cricket party was just too fun, and a chance to see a whole other side of our Doc. He was absolutely crazy about those two boys of his (as was everyone else), and was always in rare form when they were there, on holiday from university. I didn't have a clue what was going on in the cricket match, but enjoyed dressing up all in white, and wearing a big floppy hat. (If only I had some pictures!) The two main things I remember about the party at "The Cricketeer Arms" afterwards were a fabulous tomato-cheese tart made by Mrs. Connolly (would give anything for that recipe), and the sight of everyone gathered 'round the Connolly boys and their chums, as they danced and "strutted" to that Right Said Fred song, I'm Too Sexy. What a hoot!

Sometime later I had to go see Doc Connolly for one thing or another, and he seemed, well, a bit frazzled. Worn out, I guess. So I asked him,"Doc, when are you going to retire to that country manse we've heard so much about. Haven't you had enough of this yet?" "Well, to be perfectly honest, there are two very important things standing between me and retirement. Perhaps you met them when they were here recently?"

LETTERS HOME: HE SAID/SHE SAID

May 12, 1992

Dear Mom & Dad,

It was good talking to both of you this last Sunday. I hope I didn't take Dad away from his breakfast for too long. When I called up to the hospital, I got switched around to several floors before finally getting the right one. The operator was real good though, knowing I was calling from overseas, and she hung on until I finally got through to someone. I didn't mean to have Dad rushed out of breakfast, but it's been real hard getting lines out lately, and I didn't want to have to call back. Anyway, Dad, it sure was good hearing your voice on the phone. I hope you work with the therapists real hard so that when I come home I can take you out for some trips around town. I'm still looking forward to spending some time with you.

We will be moving into another house this summer. Even though we just spent some money on this one, fixing it up, the house we are moving into is slightly bigger and a little better floor plan. One thing about it is the location. It's right across from the school and in an area where most of the other kids live. That's the real reason for our deciding to go ahead and move. We'll give you the new phone extension when it's time. The mailing address will remain the same. In fact, sometime in July a new mail service will be initiated. You will be able to mail a letter to Dallas, then once a week mail is expressed over to Jakarta. From there it will be put on the company plane and flown down to the plant. It might save a few days on delivery, and will be cheaper for you. Not quite sure what all can be sent that way. No packages, I'm afraid. We'll let you know when that is in operation.

The kids are finishing up the school year. It will be over in just about 2 weeks. It's hard to believe that this year has passed so quickly -- at least for us! I think Austin has really started to like school, and he's going to like first grade even more. He's not too crazy about all the arts and crafts activities they do in kindergarten. Alexis has done pretty well, but still has some problems concentrating. She is being tutored in math right now, but only because she won't take directions from her parents. For some reason it's easier coming from some other adult.

I think Becky is beginning to get really excited about her trip home. All the reservations have been made and the tickets should be arriving soon. We sent Kathy some money to buy Becky a 35mm camera that I think Mother would like too. It fits into your shirt pocket but has quite a few features, including automatic film speed setting and focusing. You can take a look at it when we come home. We didn't buy it in Singapore because, unlike the good ol' days, it's now cheaper to buy those kinds of things in the U.S. Nothing is cheap in Singapore anymore, especially cameras and electronics!

Work over here has its pluses and minuses. The main plus is the money. I've got about 20% of my base pay going into the company savings plan, plus all the savings bonds and other things we have money going into. We set a goal of how much we wanted to save each year, and I think we are coming pretty close to that. A few years of this will give us a pretty good cushion. The nicest thing is that when we do come home, we won't have to furnish a house from scratch like last time. We already have all the furniture and appliances, so we won't have to lay out that huge chunk of money just to set up our household. That's why I want you to know that, if you need any financial help, all you have to do is ask. Save your money and let me help out now while I'm in such a good position to do so. We can easily spare some money now, so be thinking about it and we'll talk about it when I get home. Take care and I'll be seeing you soon.

Love your son,

John

11th May, 1992

Dear George and Theda,

Just wanted to get one more letter off to everyone, before it's time to head off on vacation. I can't believe we leave for Disney World in only 18 days! We're all awfully excited (well, except for poor John, of course). Kathy bought some guide books and did a lot of research, so she has an itinerary all mapped out for us. At first she agreed to go with us just so I wouldn't have to do it alone, but now I think she is more excited than anyone! We just got a real long letter from Mike and Prisi. Sounds like they are both really happy with their new jobs. I know it must be good for Mike's ego to finally be appreciated again, and I'm sure you are pleased to have that worry behind you. Now that all your kiddos are settled and happy, you have nothing to worry about except George getting well enough to enjoy the "invasion of the kiddles!" They sure are looking forward to seeing you all again.

Did we tell you that we will be moving into a different house later this summer? When we first got here there were no class 2 houses available, so they had to put us in a class 3 house. Now though, several families are leaving, and they have offered us a chance to move into a larger house. It's a tough decision. We never really expected this to happen, or we wouldn't have put so much into our current house. But, we are located on a small cul de sac which will be totally empty except for us by this summer. Also, it is the farthest street that has any expats on it, and it's a pretty good walk for the kids to get to school or to any of their friends houses. Consequently, they always make our driver Usuf take them! The new house practically backs up to the school, and will be so convenient if the kids feel like shooting baskets or going to the playground. Also, we will be smack dab in the middle of two streets full of kids. Oh well, at least having to start from scratch on painting and decorating will keep me busy for another year! The bad thing is, with so much more room, we might get the urge to buy more furniture!

Guess that's all for now. Take care, and we will see you before you know it!

JOHN AND THE KIDS WRITE TO PAPA GEORGE

Dear Papa,

How are you? I'm fine. I miss you a lot. I can't wate until summer so I can see you. This letter was written by a girl with lots of hope. How is Theda? I hope she is okay. I have lots of friends and a tutor. I think you have been thrugh enough alredy so this letter is full of love for Theda and you. Don't get mad, do as people say and you will get better. The whole family is woried about you. so pleas get well SOON! Give everyone hugs and kisses.

Love,
Alexis Lane





May 4, 1992

Dear Dad,

I hope you are doing much better by the time you get this letter. I have been thinking about you every day, wishing I could be back home with you. Mother will send me your schedule and I will try to give you a call. I tried calling you this weekend but you had already moved to the SNF section. The woman who answered in your old room didn't know where you had moved to. It's hard being so far away, not being able to do anything for you. I hope you work real hard on the therapy and are able to be at home when I come home June 12. We can still go out and play a little golf if you want. I thought I could rent a cart and you could ride around with me while I play 9 holes. I was also thinking we could go over to the doughnut shop each morning for coffee, to hang with your friends. Alexis and Austin are asking about you. They are looking forward to seeing you this summer. Don't worry too much about seeing them, they will be around all summer and will be able to come to Odessa a few times.

I won another golf trophy last weekend. Every time someone leaves here they hold a 9 hole scramble. We tied for 1st but ended up with 2nd place. Our team captain lost the putt-off. Oh well. That makes two trophies I've won this year. Keep this up and I will have to leave some furniture behind in order to make room for the trophies when I move home. I played with Becky's clubs this time. I decided I like her clubs better than mine.

Austin's good buddy is moving back to Alaska this summer. I don't know what he's going to do for a playmate next year. We pray that one of the new teachers coming in next year has a kid Austin's age. Several people are leaving this year and we are losing about 8 kids out of the school. That's quite a few considering how small the school is to begin with.

I guess that's about all the news for now. I'll write again later. There is a fellow going back to the US Wednesday, so I will get this letter to him to bring home with him. Anytime someone goes back to the States they usually end up with half a suitcase full of mail from everyone here. Take care, and I just want you to know we are thinking about you. Can't wait to get home to see you.

Love,
Your son John

Dear Papa,

how are you? I miss you. Sorry you have a stroke. get well soon I will see you very soon

Love Austin

Austin included a picture of a smashed snake he saw in the road because, well, what better to cheer people up? Right? (I think those are supposed to be tread marks going over the snake.)

DASHED HOPES

Dearest Friends,

Of all our friends and relatives back home, the one who was most determined to come visit us in Indonesia was my 72-year-old mother-in-law, Theda. I think she had always dreamed of traveling to exotic places, but she made the mistake of marrying a salesman who was always on the road, covering his territory.  As you can well imagine, whenever vacation time rolled around, the last thing he wanted to do was travel!

She'd always assumed, though, that once he was retired, he would enjoy traveling to art exhibits and craft shows with her, helping her to hang her paintings and set up her booths. After a couple of those mini-strokes, he did indeed take early retirement, but never made it further than his easy chair, where he  spent his time traveling from one television station to the next, instead.

I guess Theda saw this trip to Indonesia as her last chance for a big hurrah, and she was determined to make it work. If George didn't want to come with her, well, they had great neighbors who would keep an eye on him, and she had a wonderful sister who was a professional caretaker, who might come stay with him for a while. She began making her plans.

In early May, just before John was to begin his plant shut-down, and the kids and I were to head off on our big Disney adventure, we got an emergency call from John's brother. George had had another stroke. A biggie this time -- one that left him paralyzed on one side. There wasn't anything more they could do for him at the hospital, so they were moving him to a rehab facility. The rest was up to him. If he was cooperative, and worked very hard, he could learn to walk again. If he was uncooperative, they wouldn't waste their time on him. He'd be sent home in a wheelchair, and there he would stay. I suspect everyone who knew him was asking themselves the same question right about then: Was George's hard-headed stubbornness going to be his salvation, or his ruin? And what about poor Theda?

BAD JU-JU IN JAKARTA

Dearest Friends,

When my oldest sister lived in Saudi Arabia for five years, she got into the habit of bringing really nice gifts home to everyone in the family, each time she came to the States.  As our first home-leave grew ever closer, it suddenly occurred to me that my relatives were probably expecting the same from me.  Well, shee-yutt!!  That was not a happy realization, for 1) unlike my sister, who loved/lived to shop, I pretty much hated it, and 2) even if I didn't, where was I supposed to find all these treasures?  We were living on a company compound, in the middle of the jungle!

So, when my friend Peggy, the most organized, efficient person I know, invited me to go shopping in Jakarta with her, and said she even had a friend we could stay with, who would loan us her car and driver for the day, how could I say no?  To tell you the truth, I don't remember much of anything about our time in Jakarta, or what we bought while there.  I do, however, have vivid memories of the trip home.  I bet Peggy does too.

You see, we had to get up around 4:00 a.m. that last day, in order to get to the airport and catch the co-plane back to Lhok Seumawe.  There was no time to eat breakfast before we left, but I did remember to take one of the pills I had just been prescribed (I non't remember what for).  John had picked them up for me on his way home from work Friday, and thrust them into my hand as I headed off to the airport.  Anyhoo, on Sunday morning as we stood on the porch, saying goodbye to our dear hostess, I suddenly caught a whiff of dog-poo from somewhere in the garden, and that was all she wrote.  A wave of nausea hit me so hard, it almost knocked me over!  I ran around the corner of the house and barfed.  My two friends were very concerned, and tried to usher me back into the house.  "No, no.  I'm fine.  I always get a little queasy if I don't eat breakfast.  It was just the smell.  Besides, we've got a plane to catch!"

The traffic in Jakarta is just what you'd imagine it to be in most ginormous, third world cities.  There is a lot of speeding up for a few seconds, only to slam on the brakes again, with continual whipping back and forth between lanes.  In no time at all I was pretty sure I was going be sick again, but there was no way for our driver to pull off the road.  Lucky for us all, the ever-prepared Miss Peggy whipped a giant zip-lock baggie out of her purse.  By the time we reached the airport, I had filled it up.

Once inside, Peggy took care of checking us in, and I headed straight to the restroom, such as it was.  Every time I'd think it was safe to come out, the nausea would hit me again.  Peggy came to check on me, asking if I was certain I didn't want to return to her friend's house.  "No!  I just want to go home.  Leave me here until they start boarding the plane, then come get me."  By then there was nothing left for me to hurl, except maybe my intestines, and I was so exhausted that I just passed out on the plane, barf-bag clutched tightly in my hands.

When I finally made it to my house, I stumbled past my family and fell into bed.  The next morning I felt much, much better, though I looked as if I had been in a bar-room brawl.  Apparently, all that heaving had caused some blood vessels in my eyes to rupture, and the whites were now ruby-red.  As I was telling John what I had been through, he began to get a very strange look on his face.  "Uh, Beck? You didn't, by any chance, take one of those pills on an empty stomach, did you?"  "Why yes, I did.  Right before we left the house.  Why do you ask?"  "Well, I guess maybe I forgot to tell you what they said, about how important it was to only take them on a full stomach, huh?"  I probably didn't speak to him for a week.

THE LAST LEG

Dearest Friends,

Earlier, when I asked the kids about their memories of those first days abroad, Alexis said "I was really excited to start at the new school, and was pretty amazed with the compound. Everything was so green and lush, the exact opposite of Midland, Texas. It was like living out my own fairy tale."  That may have been true, once we got settled in. However, there were a few rough patches right at first!

Gone Native!  Our friends Danny and Peggy, with young Beth and Travis.

By the time the co-plane landed at the tiny, open-air airport nearest the compound, we were more than a little frazzled -- and still had at least an hour's drive to go, if I remember correctly.  Lucky for us, our friend Peggy knew exactly how we'd be feeling, and just what we would need.  She met us at the airport in her nice comfy van (not the pedi-cab, or becak, in the picture, thankfully), with the AC cranked up and a cooler full of sodas and snacks.  I can't tell you how good it was to be greeted by a familiar face!  Unfortunately, that  would be the last we'd see of her for a good long while, as both her parents were seriously ill, and she was heading back to the states to care for them.

Lexi's new bedroom.

I think it was walking into our new home on the compound -- the one with nothing in it but the company-provided basics, and which wasn't a thing like what they were accustomed to -- that brought Alexis down to earth with a jolt.  Neither of our shipments had arrived yet, and until they did, the kids had nothing with which to entertain themselves other than what was in their suitcase and backpack.  There were three strangers hanging about the house and garage all day, watching everything they did.  The only other kid on our street was just four years old, and we had arrived at the beginning of the weekend, so they wouldn't be going to school for a couple of days yet.  School itself was another concern for Lex, since we hadn't been able to get there until a week or two after the semester started.  I'm sure she thought everyone but her would already know the teachers and have friends.  Yep, it's easy to see why Lex might have been having a bit of an anxiety attack about then.  Still, I'm just not sure how she figured on running away.  From an island.  Halfway around the globe from where she wanted to be!

THE LONG GOODBYE

The Reeh's at the company beach

Dearest Friends,

John spent about a month in Indonesia, shadowing a guy named DM (who, almost 20 years later, would come to work with John at the company he helped start in Houston).  When DM and his family left, not only did John step into his position, we pretty much stepped into their lives, inheriting most of their staff, and possibly even their house (can't remember for sure).

A beach picnic

Not only were there different kinds of houses for Mobil families and P.T. Arun families (P.T. Arun being the Indonesian company that Mobil was partnering with for this LNG plant), there were different styles of housing in each side of the compound, depending upon a person's pay grade.  Since none of those for John's "class" were vacant at the time, we were to take a different one, with the option of moving when a better one came available.  John met and had dinner with a family who would be living next door to us, so was able to send pictures, not only of what our house looked like empty (not a speck of color anywhere!), but also of what it could become with a little TLC (whew!).

The clinic.  I believe the supermarket was right next door, in a similar building.

Our side of the compound was called Balik Poppin, and the Mobil side, where the Reeh's lived, was known as Bukit Indah.  Their  houses were a bit more Americanized than ours, with central air and some carpeting, which I was a little envious of at first.  But, as it turned out, ours were better suited to the climate, and would end up having less problems with mold and mildew.  So, as they say, "When in Rome..."!  Anyhoo, Peggy was kind enough to go around and take lots of pictures of the compound for us (the ones you see here) as soon as I sent that first letter to her, and they went a long way towards easing our concerns and helping us make up our minds.  I had purchased a new backpack for each of the kids, and had gradually been filling them with anything I could find that might entertain them on the long trip over, plus a few wrapped "very special" gifts (their first Gameboys?).  They were allowed to peek, but not touch, until we were actually on the airplane, so they were both rarin' to go!  We no longer feared what lay ahead, but we did have a few concerns about what we were leaving behind.

The School Yard

The Pool

John did indeed make it home in time for the final pack-up; in time for a slew of final weight-adding-get-togethers hosted by friends (we'd surely lose it all as soon as we got to Indonesia, right?  What with all that outdoor activity, and no fast food anywhere?); in time to help me host a giant pre-birthday/going-away bash for our kids and all their friends at the roller rink; and most importantly, in time for one final Hill Country fling with the Sanfords!

Rafting in New Braunfels

Our main worries now were our families, and our dog Munchkin.  Taking a dog to Indonesia was probably not the best idea in the world.  Indonesians do not keep dogs as pets, and are mostly afraid of them.  There was a vet there, but dogs were definitely not her specialty.  Plus, your dog could not fly over with you.  They must be shipped over after you have arrived and are there to accept them on the other side.  Our Munchkin was no spring chicken.  She was at least 12 or 13 by then, so the question was, which would be harder on her?  To make that long journey alone?  Or to be deserted by the only family she had ever known?  We opted for the journey.

My sisters were already planning their trips over to see us, but our parents were no spring chickens either.  My folks couldn't believe we were taking their grand-babies away to some godforsaken country that they had no intention of ever setting foot in, and John's parents, well, that was our biggest concern of all.  Over the past several years, John's dad had been having some episodes where he just wasn't himself -- hiding stuff from us all, forgetting how to do things that used to be second nature to him, getting lost, etc. -- but he refused to admit anything was wrong or to see a doctor.  Finally we had to force the issue, and found that he'd been having "mini-strokes".  He had a more serious one, that caused temporary paralysis on one side, the year before.  Though he was mostly recovered from that, our biggest fear was that he'd have another while we were gone, and Theda would be left to handle it all alone, since John's only sibling lived halfway across the country.  But, amazing person that she was, Theda insisted that we go.  She knew that if John passed up this opportunity, he might well end up out of a job.  "Besides," she said.  "I've always dreamed of traveling to exotic places, and I can't wait to come visit you and the kids!"  So, we went.

THEY GOT RIFFED!

Dearest Friends,

As it turns out, Paula's and Nellie's husbands had both fallen victim to a Reduction in Forces, or R.I.F.  The platform that John and Tim had been assigned to was complete and ready for start up.  It had been turned over to the crew that would be operating it, and the construction barge our hubbies had been living on was being sent elsewhere.  The only reason B&R still wanted John out there is that Aramco (the owners of the platform) had suddenly decided there must be a small crew on stand-by throughout the start up process, just in case something went wrong.  Since B&R's team didn't actually have jobs to do, however, they just sat in their quarters all day, everyday.  Talk about boring!  This start-up just happened to coincide with our scheduled home leave, which is why it got cancelled.

Such is life with an engineer, and the one thing about our marriage that I never really came to grips with.  It always seemed like every time we'd try and plan a vacation, or do something special for our anniversary, I'd get a sheepish call from my poor hubby at the last minute, saying "Um, Beck?  I don't know how to tell you this, but..."  Fifteen years later, when we returned to Indonesia with our kids, I finally got fed up with the situation, and summoned up the courage to take a stand!  But that's a story for another day.

Of course, at this point I was still pretty clueless about what all was going on.  All I knew was that S&BD were leaving for sure in mid-May,  my other two best friends might not be far behind them, I hardly ever got to see my husband, and our only option if we wanted to go home was to just quit this job, without having anything else already lined up and waiting.  Well, that would be really difficult, because that was something we had both been taught growing up, that you just...don't...do!

Soooo, that's when I started to get stressed, and as I mentioned before, when Miss Becky gets stressed, shit happens.  According to my diary, on April 27th there was a "little accident with a car in the souk", then on the 30th, I stopped by the office to check for mail, where I found two letters from John and a lovely linen tablecloth sent from one of our Irish boys who had returned home, as a thank you for all the home-cooked meals at our place.  From there I went straight to the grocery store, but instead of following my automatic routine of shutting off the car, putting the keys in my purse, etc., I paused for a moment to rip open and read the letters from John, then proceeded to lock my keys in the car.  Of course, I couldn't call my hubby to bring me a spare, could I?  And, since this was one of the first new cars not to have a knob thingy that a coat hangar could grab onto, we ended up having to bust out a window.  On May 1st I wrote that "I almost got arrested with Beth", on May 5th I "got really pissed off with my boss" and then I came down sick.  What the heck was going on here?  This was so not the usual Miss Becky.  For one thing, I almost never get sick!  Could this really be a result of simple stress, or could it have something to with that stupid "Ski Team Diet" I had been going on each time John went offshore.  Or, maybe I'd just fried my brain, with all the sunbathing we did over there!

BAD PARTY. BAD, BAD PARTY!

Dearest Friends,

From that point on, it seemed that we had at least two or three parties per month to go to.  There were a couple of outdoor parties, before the weather cooled down, at the one housing complex that actually had a pool (where at least one guy would always piss the women off by drinking enough to find himself thinking "Wow, I have a great idea!  Why don't I jump off that roof or balcony, into the pool!", and where my friend Paula always carried a bottle in her hand -- to brain someone with, should they take a notion to toss her into the pool); there was Casino Night at the American Club, and Singapore Night at the Gulf Hotel; there were a couple of wild parties thrown by the bachelors, and lots of game nights at friend's houses; there were big holiday potlucks, birthday parties, and small dinner parties; and then there was the party to end all parties -- and I don't mean that in a good way, for it almost did just that!

Usually, I made all of my own clothes, but when I heard that the American Women's Association would be hosting a big Christmas dance at the Pearl Restaurant on December 15th, I decided it was time for a splurge!  I picked out a piece of raw silk in a beautiful purple shade, and had a tailor turn it into a gorgeous evening gown for me.  Unfortunately, the style was not all that flattering to my figure.  I had to be very careful to stand up straight and keep my stomach sucked in when I wore it, which is hard to do when you are dancing and having fun!  Then I spent 2 1/2 hours at the salon, letting G. style my hair into a fancy up-do.  Again, not flattering!

I've been going back and forth for days over posting this, I hate that hair-do so much!

Despite all this, I wrote in my diary that we "had a great time!"  No, it wasn't until a day or two later that the trauma really began.  That's when I reported waking up "with a case of the runs."  Good thing it was my day off.  The next evening, John had an upset stomach too.  He was up all night, but insisted on going to work the next day.  He didn't make it through the whole day though.  He came home early and went straight to bed, eating nothing.  I thought I was doing better, but on Tuesday I woke up with "a serious case of dysentery!", and couldn't go to work or eat a thing all day.  Thank heavens the next day was a holiday.

A few days later, when we finally felt well enough to go out into public again, we went to a dance at the club.  That's when we found out that we weren't the only ones who had been suffering.  As it turns out, pretty much everyone who attended the dinner dance at the Pearl had fallen ill!  We had several more relapses after that (I remember having to stop right in the middle of opening our presents, on Christmas morning, to "jet to the john") but we eventually recovered, as did everyone else.

A BRUSH WITH DEATH

Dearest Friends,

A couple of months after I got there, our buddies S. & A. fell ill.  We thought it was just the flu at first, but after a couple of weeks of their getting worse, rather than better, we all were more than a little afraid for them. The problem was, we had no doctor there.  All we had was a guy who had spent some time as an army medic.  They must have finally loaded the boys up and driven them to the hospital in Jakarta, though I can't imagine what it was like for them to make that arduous trip, as sick as they were.

Word finally made it's way back to us -- both good and bad.  On the upside, they weren't going to die, though there were probably times when they had wished they could.  The bad news?  They had both contracted "a mild case" of Malaria, the one thing they could not immunize us against, and one which could come back to haunt them periodically, for the rest of their lives.

Everyone became much more conscientious about taking their gawd-awful quinine pills after that, rather than relying on those ever popular Gin & Tonics.  By the way, did you know that G&T's were introduced by the British East India company?  Tonic water contains quinine -- quite a bit back in the 18th century, which made it very bitter tasting.  The gin was added to make it more palatable.  The tonic water of today contains a much smaller amount, which makes it more pleasant to drink but, as it turns out, not so good at preventing Malaria.

A MAIL ORDER BRIDE-TO-BE

What I remember most about those first weeks of marriage, and our journey to Indonesia, was nausea -- an unbelievable amount of nausea -- and a huge sign hung for all the world to see, which caused my cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

My college boyfriend John had left for a job with Brown & Root, in Southeast Asia, at the end of my junior year. He proposed to me by phone several months later, sent me an engagement ring in the mail, and a few days after graduation I married a guy I hadn’t seen, and barely spoken to, in thirteen months. The next day we boarded a plane, and headed off into the great unknown. Sounds crazy, I know, but what you have to understand is that, though neither of us was very good at sharing our feelings face-to-face, we were both damn good letter-writers. Our relationship progressed more during that year apart than it had in all three years of dating!

The nausea started before we’d even made it out of the States. Since the trip to Indonesia was doubling as our honeymoon, we decided to make a few stops along the way, the first of which was San Francisco. One day we rented a car and drove out to visit John’s maternal grandmother. It was a gorgeous, romantic drive, but the roads were rather twisty, and before long I was hanging my head out the window, hoping the cool breeze would calm my stomach. “Uh, Beck? You OK?” “Oh, sure. I just get a bit carsick now ‘n then (plus airsick, seasick, swing-sick, merry-go-round-sick, and pretty much anything-that-moves-sick). It’s no big deal.”

I did fairly well on the trip to Hong Kong, but we were only a few minutes into the flight to Singapore when a combination of exotic foods, turbulence, and nervousness had me running for the toilets. Every time I tried to return to my seat, I’d get about halfway down the aisle, then have to turn and run back. Finally I just gave up, slid down to the floor of the stall, dropped my head onto my arms, and stayed that way until it was time to land. The lock on the door was broken, and people kept barging in on me, but I was beyond caring at that point. John checked on me periodically, but I assured him he’d be much better off just leaving me where I was.

The reason for my nervousness was that Singapore was the last bastion of civilization on our journey, and after that, there was no turning back. Not long after John proposed to me, I started peppering him with questions about where we would be living. Finally he sent me a packet of photos, including one shot of some women doing their wash in a muddy river, with a few water buffalo for company. It was labeled “Our local laundromat.” Even more disturbing was the shot of the outdoor market where he said I’d do most of my shopping, with its huge slabs of fly-covered meat. It was a far cry from paradise, but I figured “Hey, if John and his coworkers can hack it, then I durn well can too!” My parents weren’t nearly so optimistic.