Friday, November 11, 2011

SHE AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET!

Dearest Friends,

It didn't take long for Alexis' teacher to glom onto the fact that she was capable of much more than she was letting on.  Soooo, the next time she spotted John and I in the yard, she came over and chatted with us about it.  She wanted to warn us that she was fixing to put some pressure on Miss Alexis, now that she had settled in, and things were likely to get, well, a bit dramatic let's say.  No joke!

Mrs. Nybakke's class has a going away luncheon for Lexi's friend Melitta, there in the center.
Oh my, how I felt for my poor daughter, for I had gone through just the same thing when I was about three years older than her.  (If only they had caught it this soon!) Towards the end of sixth grade I had a ruptured appendix, and missed several weeks of school, during which the other kids had all taken those standardized aptitude tests. When I got back I wasn't supposed to go to P.E. for a while, so I stayed in with my homeroom teacher to get caught up on all the work I had missed, and to take that aptitude test.  I guess, in working with me one-on-one, she spotted something she wasn't able to see in a classroom of thirty, and that, combined with my aptitude test scores, convinced her that I needed to be moved into the accelerated class for seventh grade -- the year that ended up being one of the worst of my life! (old habits die hard)  Now, I would get to go through it all again with my daughter. Lucky me.  Within a few days, Lex had taken to referring to her teacher (only at home of course) as The Dragon Lady.

A few weeks later the kids and I were driving back from the pool or somewhere, when we happened to pass Mrs. Nybakke walking home, her arms loaded with bags.  We stopped and offered her a ride.  Lex slid to the very back seat, barely saying a word, while the rest of us chattered away cheerfully.  Then, out of the blue, my son turns to Mrs. Nybakke and asks "Why does my sister call you The Dragon Lady?"  I could have died.  I could have throttled him!  Grinning slyly over her shoulder towards my slack-jawed daughter, she replied "Your sister calls me that, does she?  Well, you can tell her for me, she ain't seen nothin' yet!"

Who me?  What did I do?

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE


Bukit Indah -- Beautiful Hill
Dearest Friends,

When we'd been there a week or two, and were as settled in as we could be until our stuff arrived, my hubby woke up one Saturday and came to a most startling realization.  For the very first time, in as long as he could remember, he was a free man.  He had no car to wash (the driver did that for us -- every day!), no lawn to mow, no household maintenance or repairs to do, no packing or unpacking for business trips to be done, no parents to check in on, no soccer or t-ball games to coach or attend...zip...nada!  Nothing more important than just relaxing and hanging with his family.  It was difficult to wrap his head around the notion.


So, after lazing in bed for as long as he wished, he decided we should don our swimsuits, then mosey down to the pool and snackbar, to check them out more thoroughly.


We couldn't believe our luck!  What with the blue skies, the palm trees, the lounge chairs and umbrellaed tables, and the waiters who seemed happy to bring you whatever you desired, be it ice cream, a diet coke with a twist of lime, or a cold Bintang beer, it was as if we'd been sent to live at one of those fancy-schmancy vacation resorts -- the kind we'd always longed to visit, but never could afford.


If I had to compare our facilities in Indonesia the first time, with this here?  Well, I'd tell you that the first time we were staying at Motel 6, but for some unknown reason, this time we'd been bumped up to the Ritz Carlton!  Which is why I would never have much patience for all the moaning, groaning and complaining that a few of the women were prone to.  I just wanted to grab them by the shoulders and give them a good shake, yelling "Have you no clue how fortunate you are?  You're living at Club Med, getting to travel the world, the company is covering all your living expenses, and you are able to stash your entire paycheck in the bank each month!  What's wrong with you?"  Instead, I bit my tongue.  A lot.


Anyhoo, we ran into Dan Reeh and his kids at the pool that day.  We floated and visited with him, while watching the kids play together, and after a while he said "Mark my words.  One of these days we're gonna look back on this time and say 'Ah, those were the days!'."  He was dead right.  I think even the whiners would agree with him now. Well, except maybe for that one terribly rigid, humorless woman, whom I will not name.  You see, if there's one thing I learned in hosting three exchange students and those years of volunteering with AFS, it's that you've just gotta be flexible and have a sense of humor, when it comes to dealing with other cultures.  Whenever I interviewed a prospective host family and found someone who just couldn't wait to teach these poor kids about the American way, the right way, of doing things, I saw a disaster waiting to happen.  What we needed, in both the students and the host families, was someone who couldn't wait to learn -- about other cultures and other ways of doing things.  Someone who could laugh when things didn't go as planned.  This poor, inflexible woman was not one of those, and did not last very long here.  But those of us who were able to bend and laugh and learn?  Why, we did just fine!


Monday, November 7, 2011

THE WORST BIRTHDAY EVER

Dearest Friends,

Our little Austin celebrated his 6th birthday shortly after we arrived in Indonesia.  Sort of.  I knew this would be a tough one for us, which is why I threw that "Pre-Party" at the roller rink before we left.  Still, I never thought it would be that tough!  If not for that pre-party, I'd probably be wracked with guilt whenever someone brought this birthday up.

To start with, the kid was halfway around the world from his family and friends, and hadn't yet had time to make any new ones.  Also, our shipments hadn't arrived yet, so it was a struggle for me to come up with the most pitiful of cakes, for a kid who always demanded "one of those giant cookie cakes from the mall!"  Of course, he always wanted his parties to be held at a pizza restaurant with an arcade -- also out of the question.  Was this enough disappointment for one little kid?  Apparently not.

This year, the birthday fairies decided to add insult to injury.  Perhaps they thought these spoiled American children (and their spoiled momma) needed to be taught a lesson -- brought down to earth a bit, made to appreciate things more and to understand just how lucky they were, compared to most of the kids in the world.  Maybe Momma needed to be taught that creativity counted way more than money and stuff.

Anyhoo, I don't remember exactly who we invited, but there were very few guests (probably just the Reeh and Freels kids, whom we knew back in Midland, and maybe 4-year-old Bryce from next door). Which meant there were very few packages to open.  Two of those packages contained toy guns, and before the party had ended, one guest had broken one of them, and another had tossed one down into a drainage ditch where we couldn't reach it.  Our son was not a happy camper, and declared it to be "The Worst Birthday Party EVER!!!"


The 50's Party, with soda fountain and hula hoops
The Faeries, Elves and Leprechaun Party
I don't feel one bit guilty, though.  In fact, it might be one of the best things that ever happened to us.  From that point on, utilizing every ounce of creativity I possessed to make the rest of their Indonesian birthdays memorable became something of an obsession for me -- my mission, if you will -- and I don't think they'd trade a single one of the parties that followed for any arcade/fast-food/roller rink party, even if it came with the biggest ice cream or cookie cake ever!  Which is why, these days, whenever someone mentions "the worst birthday ever", we all get a good laugh.  Even me.

The Batman Pool Party
The Japanese Dinner Party


Thursday, November 3, 2011

LEX MOVES UNDER THE MAGNIFIER

Lex and her first teacher, Mrs. Nybakke
Dearest Friends,

The kids' new school -- I.S.O.L., the International School of Lhok Seumawe -- was to be an experience beyond their imaginations, especially for Lex, who was starting third grade there.  Austin didn't have much to compare it to, having only been to pre-school and Mothers' Day Out programs before this.

Lex, I'm afraid, was used to coasting.  Her classes back in the States had been too large and her teachers too harried.  Because she was cute, quiet, and fairly well-behaved, she managed to fly under their radar -- not doing as well as she should have, but not doing poorly enough to demand their attention.  Here, there would be no more coasting, and she would get plenty of attention.  Way more than she wanted, in fact!


The school went from pre-k through 8th grade, had nine teachers (four American couples and one Indonesian lady), and lots of parents anxious to help out with extracurricular stuff.  Since there was only about 35 students in all, I'd say the adult to student ratio was pretty darn good, wouldn't you?  The facility, equipment, computer lab and supplies were all top notch as well.  The principal, Mr. Werber, also taught science, while Mr. Poulin was the P.E. teacher, and the local lady taught them Indonesian language and culture.  The other teachers each taught two or three grades combined, and still only had five or six kids in their class.

Sounds like a dream job for a teacher, doesn't it?  Small classes, great budget, free housing, travel opportunities, etc.  There was just one hitch.  Who did they have to socialize with?  Us -- their students' parents.  They just couldn't escape us!  Nor could our kids escape them.  I did my best never to spoil their downtime by bringing up school matters at parties or other social activities.  However, Lexi's teacher just happened to live right next door to us, and she was not the least bit shy about flagging me down when she thought something needed discussing.  Poor Lex.


Then too, as I mentioned before, there was a good bit of parental involvement at the school.  What else did we have to do?  Within a couple of weeks of our arrival, they had me teaching after-school enrichment classes and helping out with the costumes for an upcoming play.  They also had both me and my hubby doing sports with the kids in the evenings, and we had signed on to help with the haunted house at the Halloween Carnival.  On top of all that, I had been railroaded into teaching a Sunday School class!  Not my forte, believe you me, but in a community this small, everyone who wanted a church had to participate, or there would be no church.

So, like I said, Lexi's days of flying under the radar were over and done with.  Kaput!

Monday, October 31, 2011

THE WELCOME WAGON



Dearest Friends,

Unbeknownst to me, the Mobil wives had a welcoming committee of sorts, led by a woman named Pat Baig.  Their mission was to ease the new wives into life on the compound as seamlessly as possible, 'cause, as everybody knows, "if Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!"


So, instead of sitting alone in my sad empty house that first week, with nothing to do but feel sorry for myself, I had someone knocking on my door each morning, ready to escort me on another adventure!

Pat herself had made certain our house was spic and span before we arrived, and that it contained all the furniture, linens, dishes and cooking utensils it was supposed to have.  She also stocked our refrigerator with a casserole for that first night, and a few basics such as milk, bread, and eggs.  She then assigned six or seven different women to call on me, each with a different task.  Peggy volunteered for the first mission, that of meeting us at the airport.  Another lady came calling early Monday morning, and took the kids and I down to the school to show us around, introduce us to the principal and their teachers,  to remind me that the kids and dads would be coming home for lunch each day, and to make sure I volunteered to help out at the school!

Miss Becky teaches cooking to the younger classes.
Miss Patti showed up the next day, and introduced me to the three different grocery stores I'd be shopping from.  The one closest to us, near the school in Bukit Indah, was the one most likely to get American products, such as Philadelphia cream cheese, or the occasional Dr. Pepper!  The one in the Indonesian section of the compound carried more gift-like items which you could use as party favors, like little tea or glassware sets, and lots of crappy stuff the kids loved to spend their allowance on, such as cap guns and candy cigarettes.  The third one, where you had the best selection of plastic household stuff like dish drainers and storage crates, was out at Pioneer Camp.  Pioneer camp was a bunch of portable buildings and trailers where the very first people to come over were housed, but which was now used for things like the bank, the commissary, the beauty salon and the church.  The buildings left a lot to be desired, but they had the advantage of being near the beach, and there were even some boats that we were allowed to use.  Patti was the perfect one to show me the ropes of grocery shopping, since she and her hubby were serious foodies, and did more entertaining than anyone else on the compound!

Pioneer Camp
Another woman, though I don't remember which, drove me into Lhok Seumawe, showed me around the market, and introduced me to the fabric stalls.  It might have been my friend Crys, another of those we had known in Midland and Houston, and who's kids had played with ours a few times.  She was an avid seamstress, so she would have known her way around the fabric section and tailor shops.


A gal named Teresa came by one day, just to visit and share some home-baked cookies, and another one introduced me to the wonders of our "Beauty Parlor", which was housed in one of those trailers out at Pioneer Camp.  It may not have looked like much, but believe you me, it was everybody's favorite place to be!  Where else could you get a facial, a manicure or a haircut, for about $3 each!  Not to mention the fabulous head, neck and shoulder massage they threw in for free, each time they shampooed your hair (and the juicy tidbits of gossip you always picked up in the process).


The most memorable day was the one where Miss Melody escorted me around.  We had been warned never to wear shorts off the compound or to our husbands' office building, but in our own sections of the compound, we could wear whatever we pleased.  Since Melody was just going to show me the pool, tennis courts, golf course, clinic, lending library, etc., I wore my favorite new outfit -- a 2-piece cotton knit Liz Claiborne ensemble purchased just before we left.  It was a boat-necked top and matching culottes that hit just above my knees, made in a green and white pin stripe, and I even had green sandals that matched perfectly.  I thought I looked pretty spiffy!  Only problem was, Melody had an errand she needed to run while we were out and about, which involved stopping off at one of the administrative offices -- one where lots of Indonesian men were working.  As we walked down the long hallway, men started poking their heads out of the doorways, some coming out into the hall.  Suddenly there was lots of chattering and laughing going on, and I had the nasty feeling that it was directed at us!  "Um, Melody?  Do you have any idea what they are saying?"  "Well, not exactly, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with your exposed legs."  I don't think I ever wore that outfit again.

Friday, October 28, 2011

THE RUNAWAY

Dearest Friends,

The three people "lurking" around our house all day were our staff -- the ones we inherited from John's predecessor, Doug May.  You had to have a driver, since we expats weren't allowed to drive off-compound, and you had to have a gardener since there was a lot to care for, and we had no equipment. However, since I was still of the same mind about live-in help as I had been in those early days, the place where I dug my heels in was by not hiring a live-in housekeeper, a cook, and a nanny.  Instead, we had Asnah.  Asnah-the-Wonderful!


Asnah, who didn't want to live in, because the Mays had built a nice little house in town before they left, just for Asnah and her mother to live in; Asnah, whom our kids adored, and who was more than happy to babysit whenever we needed something more than a teenager; Asnah, who claimed she wasn't a good cook, but who always fixed a lovely dinner for the kids when we were away, had one waiting for us whenever we came back from out of town, and who's recipes are still some of our favorites, to this very day; Asnah, who wasn't afraid of dogs; Asnah, who left by 4:00 every day, and took a day and a half off each weekend, leaving us in blissful solitude!


Of course, our Lexie had no way of knowing all this yet, as we had just arrived a couple of days before.  All she knew was that her parents had been told they needed to attend some afternoon event down at the restaurant, no kids were allowed, and she was not happy about it.  Not one little bit!  And she was going to make them regret leaving her with this stranger.

Danny Reeh drove past her about a block from our house, and something about her posture and the fiercely determined look on her face made him pull over.  A few moments later he came into the restaurant and made a beeline for us, grinning his head off.  Much to our surprise, he announced that we had a visitor outside.  We glanced over towards the windows, and there was Alexis, hands on hips, eyes shooting daggers at us.  I left John at the party, made my apologies, and went home with my daughter.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

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!