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?

LETTERS HOME: OUR FIRST EASTER

April 19, 1992

Dear George & Theda,

Hope you had a happy Easter. As usual, they overdid it here -- we had to go to three Easter egg hunts this year, not counting the one here at home! They had a sunrise service on the beach Easter morning, which was really nice. Unfortunately, the kids just had to search for eggs before we left for the church service, so we were out there wandering around in the dark, at 5:00 a.m.!

George, I'm afraid I don't have a golf handicap yet. I'm still so bad that there is no point in keeping score. However, my goal is to make myself go practice at least twice a week, so maybe I will get a little better before we get to Odessa.

Theda, I'm really excited about your sculpture workshop. Have you been working on anything? I'm still waiting to see if Alexis got a place at the Girl Scout Camp outside of Dallas (between Athens and Palestine). One of her friends from here is going with her, so I think she will enjoy that -- plus, it would just be so much easier to get her there. When we hear for sure, we can cancel the reservation at Mitre Peak.

P.S. From John: As I mentioned on the phone, just hang onto any mail or packages that come to you. We can pick them up this summer. Anything you mailed now wouldn't get here much sooner anyway. So far everything seems to have gotten here ok. As long as you keep it to a single brown envelope, it seems to come through customs without any problems.

We thought we might be moving into a little bit larger house, but that deal fell through. We were second on the list, but the couple ahead of us had turned down houses a couple of times before.  Wouldn't you know, this time they took it! The location would have been better for the kids. From the way things look, I doubt anyone else will be leaving anytime soon, so no more houses will become available. Guess we'll just have to make do.

It has really been hot over here the last week or so. We are going to have to pick up some bamboo shades to help keep the sun out. We have two rooms that get very uncomfortable during the day. The addition of another window unit AC might help too.

I'm not using all my vacation days this summer so that we will have a few days we can use to take some side trips next year, particularly if we can get anyone to come over for a visit. Maybe we can go up to Bali for 3 or 4 days, then swing back down through Java to Jogjakarta, where all the old temples are located. We have done pretty well this year with saving money, so next year I think we can afford to loosen up a little, and take some trips. Well, guess I'd better close now. Give everyone our regards.

Your Son,
John

LETTERS FROM SUMATRA: SPRING BREAK

8th April, 1992

Greetings Friends and Relatives,

What's cookin'? I'm sure you will all feel sorry for me when I tell you that I have been without a maid or a driver for an entire week now (it's Lebaran -- the holiday at the end of Ramadan, when they finally get to quit fasting). I know you think I lead a disgustingly lazy life, and you're probably right, but the occasional week without staff keeps it all in the proper perspective -- i.e. no dishwasher, a clothes washer that doesn't work unless you stand right there the whole time and lift the lid every five minutes, no fresh fruit or vegetables unless you go to the deepest part of the market in Lhok Seumawe, where the smell of ripe durian is liable to have you tossing your cookies, and where we are not really supposed to go without our driver. Also, no frozen convenience foods, or even packaged mixes for that matter.  In fact, John and I were standing in the commissary the other day, and decided that there was not one single thing we could buy to make a quick, easy dinner with. It all has to be done from scratch, and that's providing you can even find all the ingredients you need. Right now one of our company planes is out of service, so they have cut out the weekly flights to Jakarta, and apparently that's where a lot of our groceries come from. So, the shelves are pretty bare right now. On top of all that, the kids have been on spring break this week, and it's been raining a lot, and most of their friends are away on trips. The moral of this story is, never stay home over spring break/Lebaran. Next year we are thinking New Zealand!

Mom, I got the packet of camp information you sent. Thanks so much. I think we will send Alexis for a week at Camp Betty Perot in mid-July. One of her buddies from here will probably go as well. The Hockaday and St. Marks day camps are just to #### expensive! Surely we will find something fun for Austin to do, there in town. I got a real nice letter from Prisi's parents this week. Alma included a little cookbook that some group there in Lafayette had done as a fundraiser, and it was called Tea Time Tasties. Looks like it's just our cup of tea! No kidding, the recipes really look great. It was sort of a neat coincidence too, because I had already decided to host a mother/daughter Christmas tea this year. It's still looking like John won't be able to go to Disney World with us, so we were very thankful when Kathy called and said she was game to take his place. I think we will all have a great time, except for poor John. Hopefully he will get to see Mike and Prisi though. I think he will arrive in Dallas on the 12th or 13th, and if I'm not mistaken, they will be there the week of the 14th.

Not much else to tell on this end. John needs to see a dermatologist in Singapore this weekend, to get another spot frozen, and we were quite thrilled for an excuse to go there on the company's dime (isn't that terrible, to get excited over your hubby's possibly cancerous spot?)! Some friends have offered to keep the kids for us, and I think John is really looking forward to getting away by ourselves for the first time.  In closing, I would like to share with you another tidbit from the never dull "Life with Austin" saga. We were sitting at the dinner table this week when, out of the blue, our six year old son asked "Do I have any anbrothers?" "I don't know," John replies. "What's an anbrother?" "Well, you know how Mom and Granny are always talking about their ansisters?  I just wondered, since I'm a boy, does that mean I have anbrothers?"

Well, take care, and write lots of letters!

MISS BECKY TAKES A STAND

Dearest Friends,

I have a confession to make. It is something I am not very proud of. Maybe if I give you a bit of background, you will find it in your hearts to forgive me.

You see, though there was much to be said for working for a large corporation like Mobil Oil, and we certainly liked working for them a heck of a lot more than John's previous company, there were a few drawbacks, the primary one being the amount of control they had over almost every aspect of our lives.

Big Brother
 (image from tvacres.com)

It was bad enough back in the states, what with their telling us when to move and where, every couple of years, and with their having held an axe over our heads, with the constant threat of being laid off, since right around the birth of our first child. Also, I can't tell you how many times they'd screwed up vacation plans, no matter how much notice we gave them, and there must be something really critical about our anniversary date because, I swear, it was pretty much a given that John would absolutely have to be out of town on May 31st each and every year. (Hmmm, do you think my hubby might have had a hand in that?)

In Sumatra, however, we had the added bonus of their controlling the school, our medical facility, our transportation, our housing, and even which food was available in our commissary. Since the only people we had to socialize with all worked for them as well, perhaps you can understand how, after a while, and in such close quarters, it could all start to, well, chafe a bit -- maybe even start to feel a little like you were one of those miners they sing about, who "owed their soul to the company store." Please keep this in mind, when I tell you about the no-good, dirty rotten thing I once did to my poor, sweet hubby.

If you recall, we had decided to start this year's home-leave with a trip to Orlando, since none of us had ever been to Disney World, or even Disney Land, for that matter. It wasn't easy, but we had finally managed to piece together our jigsaw-puzzle-plans for the summer, even managing to get the flights we wanted and to get booked into our first-choice hotel on the Disney grounds, despite only planning three or four months in advance, rather than booking a year ahead, as was recommended. We lucked out because our kids got out of school slightly before most kids in the states, which meant we could get there the week before the hordes descended. The nearer we got to our departure date, the closer to fever-pitch our anticipation had become. John and I were every bit as giddy as the kids, because we couldn't wait to see it all through their eyes, to share the wonder of their very first Disney experience!

One day, just a few weeks before school was to let out, John came home with some news. Now, since most every decision made at the office could have such a profound effect on our personal lives, I had got into the habit of reading my hubby's face when he walked through the door each evening, and I knew this news was bad before he ever even opened his mouth. I followed him back to the bedroom, closing the the door behind us. "Uuhm, Beck? I really don't know how to tell you this, but, well, they've moved the plant shut-down back a few weeks...to the same week as our Disney trip. I have to be here for it."

That was it. That's all he said. That's all he needed to say. The rest was understood. If he couldn't go, none of us should go. After all, it certainly wasn't his fault. He too was crushed by the news. We should put it off a year, so we could all share the experience together, and I was the one who should convey this news to the kids, in a way that wouldn't break their hearts (like that was even possible!) and wouldn't make John out to be the bad guy. That was my job. I have always been the "bad cop" to John's good cop.  I mulled it all around in my head for a moment or two, and then I told him "I'm so very sorry to hear this. It won't be near as much fun without you."

LETTERS HOME: PINOCCHIO

Wed. March 25, 1992

Dear George and Theda,

John has this new fancy-schmancy word-processing program that he wants me to learn how to use. I've spent the last hour reading the manual, still don't know what I'm doing, and I could have had 10 letters finished by now. Oh well, here goes.

Yet another play that Alexis wasn't too crazy about, because her costume wasn't "pretty" enough.

Tomorrow is the big performance of Pinocchio, and Alexis is playing a policewoman. Unlike the play that the lower grades put on in the fall, this one is being done by the 3rd through 8th graders. This morning was the dress rehearsal. Although I didn't see it, several people have told me that Alexis did pretty good (at least, she didn't forget any of her lines!). One of the moms is even hosting a cast party for them afterwards, so Lex is pretty excited. We plan to take the video camera tomorrow night, but this time I will make sure that John just tapes the important stuff (Lex) and not the whole darn play!

Arriving guests had to climb through the mouth of the whale to enter the "theatre."

I wouldn't say that I'm becoming a golf lover, but I did go practice my driving with John last weekend, and then went to the course with Peggy Reeh today and played about six holes. It was kind of fun, but I can't imagine ever playing a full 18 holes! About once a month they hold a golf scramble here, for one reason or another, where you are on a team of four and you just play the best ball each time. Everyone keeps trying to talk me into playing in one, but I will have to get a whole lot better before I have the nerve to try that. I'm a nervous wreck if someone is watching me, and can usually manage to swing at the ball 3 or 4 times and miss it altogether! Sure would enjoy having one of you to play a few rounds with me though. It's really nice during the week 'cause you have the whole course to yourself, just about.

One of the big mucky-mucks was here today to hold a meeting with all the guys and discuss what is going on with Mobil. The news is not good. They've decided to lay off almost 1,000 people, and they've totally shut down the Denver and Oklahoma offices. We are not totally immune to the cuts over here, but our odds are a little better since it would be so expensive to send us back home, then pay to move one of the "golden-haired-boys" back over here in our place, but anything's possible. I do worry about all our friends back home though.

Not much else to tell really, but I wanted to send you the kids' school photos, and give you Mrs. Nybakke's great recipe for frozen daiquiris. Watch out though -- this stuff is like drinking a slushy soda pop! It keeps well in your freezer for a long time, so I keep it on hand for unexpected guests. Just mix one can of frozen limeade, one can water, one can 7-Up, and one can light rum. Stir all together in a plastic container and stick it in your freezer. Stir once or twice, once it starts to freeze. When you are ready to serve it, give it a good stir, spoon it into a glass, then pour some more 7-Up or Sprite over it. YUM! (I would double or triple the recipe) Guess that's about it. Take care, and write soon!

P.S. Please let Uncle Noble know that I have reserved a room at the Adams Mark for the reunion. I asked for a room with two double beds, and I requested it for Fri. July 31 through Wed. Aug. 5th, in case I decide to stay on a few days. They should be sending our confirmation to your address.

SHOPPING: A TOUGH JOB, BUT ...

Dearest Friends,

After the way our shopping trip to Jakarta ended, I'm pretty sure I said "Never again!", yet somehow Peggy managed to get me back on a plane just a month or two later.  This time we headed to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia with our friends Jodi and AnnMarie.  We'd been told that KL was much the way Singapore had been about 20 years ago, before they started tearing down all the good stuff and replacing it with skyscrapers, and that everything there was much cheaper than in Singapore.  I can only assume that I must have felt the need to purchase more Christmas and birthday gifts for all my friends and family members, before we headed to the states on home leave.

The big draw here was the Royal Selangor Pewter factory.  John had gifted me with a beautiful tea set from there for Christmas, which he had purchased in Singapore, but we'd been told you could get much better prices by going straight to the factory (no, the added expense of plane flights and hotel rooms does not count).  Judging by the number of Selangor bags surrounding us, I guess we found that to be true.

As with so much these days, my memories of that trip are rather hazy.  I remember two minor tiffs during the trip. One was when we went to a Cold Storage shop (a mini-mart) a few blocks from our hotel one evening, after having dined at a fun Texas-style restaurant that served chicken-fried steak and such.  One lady who, granted, had a good bit more to carry than the rest, wanted to take a taxi back, but got out-voted by those who preferred to walk off their dinner.  After a block or so of grumbled mutterings such as "this is b.s...this is total b.s.", I think we relieved her of some of her bags.  The other was the next night, when two of the ladies wanted to go back to that very same Texan restaurant for dinner again, but the rest of us wanted to try some of the local fare.  We had an amicable parting of the ways on that one.

One thing we could all agree upon (well, except maybe for AM) was that this taxi ride, where the driver took an uncommon shine to her, and couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her, causing her friends in the back seat to laugh so hard they probably left a few wet spots on the seat, was one of the highlights of the trip...

second only to stumbling upon a Baskin Robbins ice cream parlor!  Oh yeah, and one more thing.  I think we all agreed that these shopping trips with the girls, no matter how brief...well, it's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it!

THE MISERABLE LES MISERABLES

Dearest Friends,

My Indo-bud Mel moved back to Jakarta not long ago.  I keep track of her via facebook, and she recently posted something there about taking her college-aged kids on a sentimental journey back to Singapore over the holidays, the place where her son was born.  When she mentioned an excursion out to Sentosa Island, I quickly typed a reply, saying something like "Ooh!  We spent a whole weekend there with the kids once.  Had a blast!"  It wasn't until much later, as I sat sifting through memories from that weekend, that I dredged up one that wasn't really fun at all. In fact, it was pretty much a nightmare, and if it had happened anyplace other than Singapore, the least "seedy" city I've ever been to... well, I don't even want to go there.

It all started when I was flipping through one of those "what's going on" magazines that had been left in our hotel room, and discovered that the broadway hit Les Miserables -- the musical I had heard so much about but never seen -- was playing in Singapore that very weekend.  Oh how I longed to see it, but tickets would be expensive, if we could get them at all, the kids were too young to appreciate it, transportation from the island would be a problem, etc.  My reasons for not going were numerous, but one by one, John shot them down, securing tickets, suggesting pizza delivery and a hotel sitter for the kids (my friends used them all the time, though I never had), and even placing a request for a taxi to come out to the island (via a causeway) to pick us up.  So off we went.

It was fabulous.  It was magical.  It was everything I had imagined, and more -- until about 3/4 of the way through the play, when it started to rain.  And thunder.  The rain turned into a roaring deluge that went on and on, drowning out the singers' voices, and making us extremely nervous over the odds of our taxi driver's having come back just to fetch us, as we had requested.  We were right to have worried, for as in any huge city where few people own cars, the harder it rains, the more scarce the taxis become. By the time we made our way out of the the theatre, there wasn't a one to be had.

We wandered the streets for a good long while, doing our best not to get lost, hoping we'd find a stray taxi once we got away from the crowd at the music hall.  No such luck.  Of course, we had no cell phones back then, so we couldn't call for one, or even call our sitter to warn her that we might be late.  Very, very late.  Eventually we managed to find a bus that was still running, despite the hour, and it got us a lot closer to the start of the causeway, but then we had to cross it on foot -- a rather risky thing to do even at the best of times, but especially in blackest night, during a thunder storm!  Our only saving grace was the lack of traffic at that hour.  It was probably only a mile or two across, but without umbrellas or raincoats, wearing high heels, and worrying with the sound of each approaching car whether we might get clipped, well, it felt more like fifty. We eventually made it safely across, but then had to hike up a long, climbing driveway to reach the hotel.  It must have been well after 2:00 a.m. before we finally made it back to our room, looking like drowned rats.  The sitter looked ready to burst into tears when she saw us.  No telling what she'd been imagining.  Knowing my hubby, I'm sure he made it worth her while, and got the concierge to order a taxi for her trip home.  As for our kids?  Well, they had konked out shortly after we departed (they'd had a very busy day!), and woke up a few hours after our return, as cheerful as could be and rarin' to go, completely oblivious to their parents' mad escapade.

You know, most of our misadventures have made for the very best, most humorous stories in years to come.  But this one?  This one still just gives me the creeps.