Where your Heart Is

A few months ago, I went for the first time with a group of women into what is known as a trash picker community to help with a preschool class for the children that live there. I've seen small clips of communities like this in the Philippines and on a much larger scale, I've seen pictures of trash city in Cairo, but to walk into one myself, to watch toddlers play in and around bags and bags of repugnant rubbish is an eye opening experience to say the least.

 

On arrival, we walked through the small kampung (village) and smiled and greeted everyone we saw. Salamat Pagi. Apa kabar? The answer is always, Pagi. Baik. Good Morning. How are you? Morning. I'm fine.

Similar to other experiences I have now had, I mask how I really feel by my surroundings and interact with the people and the environment without hesitation. While my natural instincts tell me to grab the children away from the rubbish and to cover my senses from absorbing the smell and the smoke from burning rubbish, this is the life the people here live everyday. And they smile and welcome us into it.

We made our way to the back of the village to a large dilapidated undercover area. The floor is the earth with remnants of rubbish embedded into it. A large blue tarp is rolled out to cover the dirt and with that, our classroom, and the reason we have come is ready.

There were about 30 children there. We sang songs and played games. We hand out laminated cards that have the alphabet and numbers on them and the children practice writing. We count to 10 and sing the alphabet. I learn that the children have only been writing for a couple of months and I am amazed at how well some of them do. All they needed was the opportunity.

Two of the little boys I was sitting with share a sock which acts as a rubber for the laminated page. When one of the boys takes the sock off the other, instead of fighting, they laugh a little and squish in closer and use one end each. My heart smiles at their kindness and their innocence. There is no entitlement found here.

I sit with one little girl and almost squeeze her, multiple times. I guess she is somewhere between two and three, but she looks more like she's about 18months. We play a game and she throws her head back in adorable giggles every time she 'wins'. She rests her little hand on my leg and moves in closer to me. Squeeze!

We sing London bridge and have the children run through the tunnel (adults holding hands arched above the children). At one point we put our arms down and trap the children and their squeals of delight are musical. It is a crystal clear moment and I am hyper aware of the fact that all children are really the same. They delight in love and attention from adults that care for them, and thrive in that environment. The only real differences between these children and my own, are the opportunities given them.  

Despite their surroundings, they run around and play. Seemingly happy in their environment. They know nothing else.

On the way home I sit in my car and try to process the life these little children are growing up in. Some of them will go to school. At least for a while. But what does the future hold for them? For their children? There are good things happening in this community, but I imagine that for many of the children there, life may remain the same for a long, long time.

And with that, I commit to going back every week and seeing their little faces again.

Everyday View

Young passenger

Kampung kids

Story teller

Black and White

Life

Beauty

Wise Old Soul

One Mumma to Another!

We were driving home in a taxi and were slowing to a stop at a set of lights.

We had been in Jakarta for almost 7 days and our 'security briefing' was still fresh in my mind, "Please, please DO NOT give anyone (beggars) money".

A women approached our taxi. She was baby wearing with a sling wrapped around her body. She stopped outside my window where I sat with 3 of my children squashed in around me. The women looked directly into my eyes. One mumma to another. She motioned towards her baby.  Please help me her eyes pleaded.

My children watched her, Initially not understanding what she wanted. I started to internally panic. The words "do not give anyone money" swirled around in my head. But here was this woman. A mother. Just like me. Only so different and living a life that I can't comprehend. Even when it's staring me in the face.

Her gaze bore down on me heavily. Especially on my 'mother heart'. How can I ignore this woman? What purpose will that achieve? What message will I teach my children about humanity? About helping others?

My children kept staring.

I rationalised. Giving away money is not the answer. There are other ways we will help. How can I sit here with my children and give nothing to this woman? Her sleeping baby. My mind raced back and forth. Confused with logic and the reality in front of me.

The light turned green and we drove away. I watched as the women and her sleeping child disappeared into the sea of traffic that consumed them.

It took everything in me not to sob. We were on our way home from church. The irony was painful. 

The longer I am here, the more I understand on a practical level, why we are asked not to give money. But I am also learning, that doing what feels right is so much more important than being practical, and there is always room for exceptions.

One of those exceptions is on Sunday afternoon on our way home from church, when a Mother who is now familiar to us approaches our car and looks directly at me. One mumma to another.

Changes changes everywhere....

Her first day of Pre-school!

By  far, the person in our family that has struggled with the adjustment of life away from OZ (and her Grandma) has been this little lady. 

I could share SO many stories about the ridiculous situations I have been in with this girl since we arrived here in Jakarta. As a very small sampling of the shenanigans, Imagine this:

Child running away from park. Mother chasing child. Child stripping while running ridiculously fast. Child throwing clothes AND nappy in all directions (she had a big head start). Naked child jumping in to unfenced pool followed by fully dressed mother jumping in to pool to get child. {I thought about stripping too, but there were too many of our lovely new neighbours watching}. "Hi, we're the new family.....yes, we're from Australia......maybe we can chat later....when my child is not naked and I'm not all wet....". :)!

Anyway, the shenanigans are not really what this post is about, even though they seem to rule my life at the moment :)!

{trying to get a photo of her uniform....why do I try to get posed shots?}

What this post is really about is that my baby started Pre-school! I was hoping to send her one day a week, but the 'Tiger Mothers' of South East Asia will have no such thing! Most of the pre-schools I looked at only offer the option of 5 hours a day, 5 days a week (Almost the same as full time school in Australia!)

But in the end we found a little school that does a few hours in the morning and while we still have to pay for 5 days a week, the school is fine if I don't send her everyday (unlike other universities pre-schools we looked at which said she MUST attend everyday otherwise she would "fall behind"......umm, she's 3!)  

I am thrilled {and surprised} that she is not crying when I drop her off. A couple of other schools we checked out, she screamed the house down like you wouldn't believe. So it's a good sign that she's happy to go and happy when I pick her up.

Signing herself in.....with a selection of animal stamps

And the funniest thing - when she came home last Friday, she had a homework folder complete with homework inside! The other kids thought it was hilarious! Jasmin couldn't believe that her 3 year old sister has homework before she does!

A New Life - Part I

 
**It's 9:30pm. I sit here now and the call to prayer echoes around me. It is a beautiful sound that takes me back so fondly to our trip in the Middle East. Even though our time was only short there, the familiarity of the sound is both comforting and feels like home.

The journey thus far has been incredible {and hard at times too}. Not hard in an adjusting sense. Throw me into a new situation any day, especially if it means I can travel somewhere new.

I take in everything around me as much as I can with little ones that need me, and I'm still yet to capture on 'film' (I know it's not really film :) the sites and scenes that have become my life. The traffic. The smells. The sounds. The people. Oh the people. Incredible (and so fascinating!)

If I listen beyond the call of prayer, I hear the never ending sound of motorbikes busying by. If you know anything about Jakarta, you know the traffic is full of life and doesn't stop (actually it does stop, but only when you're in a traffic jam!). That's what happens when you live in a city the size of Sydney with 12 million people in it**

Fast forward about 4 weeks since I started writing this post, and I again find myself sitting here at 9:30pm with the sound of traffic busying by. We have settled into this new life and are loving the adventure of it all (but we really miss our family! and friends)  

The Juxtaposition of this city I now call home is everywhere I turn. Wealth and poverty side by side, literally. It is shocking and confronting. I am again reminded that Australia is a lucky country, and life there is so easy. It's hard to understand that on almost every street corner there is another huge shopping mall (5 star style) selling the likes of Louis Vuitton and Gucci and next to that building, people live in conditions that we can barely comprehend. I look at the price tags in the shops (it is expensive here!) and I wonder over and over again, how do people survive in this city? In reality, many people are barely surviving, but even when it's staring you in the face, it's hard to grasp that reality.

We take a walk around our new neighborhood and the moment we step out the front door (which includes multiple doors and security gates), the contrast is striking. We are greeted with smiles and 'Salamat Datang' everywhere we go. We meet amazing people who share a moment of their lives with us and I wonder if they realise how affected we are, I am, by the interaction. We see living conditions that are so humbling, it's hard to walk next door to the place we call home.

As our hearts open to this city and the people around us, I wonder how we ever questioned if we should move to this amazing country.

Our new home....take II

So yes. As the title of this post indicates, this is take II of our new home and we are no longer re-locating to Vietnam. If you think you're shocked, imagine how I (we) felt!

The phone call came in the middle of the day just as I had packed the kids in the car and was about to head to MacDonalds (my most detested of all places, but something the kids had begged me for and it was an end of holidays, good behavior reward :).

It was Chad. He had been in Vietnam for almost 5 weeks and we spoke most nights on Skype. Why would he be calling me on the phone in the middle of the day?

In a moment of surprise, my first words were  "What's wrong?" "Are we not going to Vietnam anymore". I didn't really mean it when I said it, but the simple answer was "No. We're not moving to Vietnam".

Despite all the concerns I had about life in Vietnam, in that moment, my heart was suddenly so embedded there (I know. I see the irony :)! and the news was a bit crushing! Not to mention the time wasted on school applications, hours spent at the travel doctor getting immunisations or the last 5 weeks I had been single mothering our children while Chad was in Vietnam in prep for his new position.

But unfortunately the political agenda of Chad's employer takes precedent over what a family of 6 want!

So with all that, we have been offered another 'home'! Initially, based on what I had previously read,  I thought no. But ignorance is bliss as they say, and when we actually started asking questions and speaking to the right people, our answer changed. But not before Chad spent a few days there, looking at accommodation, schools, and getting a general feel for the city we could potentially call home (and blogs like THIS one certainly helped too)!

And so with that, I give you our new, new home.....

Jakarta, Indonesia.

Was there mixed emotions? Yes. Were there lots of questions asked? Absolutely. But just like Vietnam, once the initial shock of it all simmered down, and once we knew a bit more about the life we would potentially be living there, we both feel that this is right for our family. We are again excited for the adventure that lies ahead of us, and like I said here, I can't deny the pull I feel to this part of the world!