tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30466553093393565952024-03-12T19:14:24.308-07:00INDONESIA (Nusantara)Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-74117375317352060342008-06-07T07:29:00.000-07:002009-07-06T22:50:25.555-07:00Reaping the RewardsI feel like I have fought a good fight here in Indonesia, have kept my faith, but have yet to finish the race. This chapter is about to close; another about to begin. It’s always wonderful to look back and reflect on life and how far you’ve come and the lives that you’ve touched and vice versa.<br /><br />When the Apostle Paul said that he had learned to secret of being content in any and every situation in his letter to the Phillipians, for a long while, I never could grasp the idea. Often times, I thought it’s when I have this or that, then I’ll be content. But Indonesia has taught me that contentment is a state of mind. I’ve lived with people who have so little and yet they learn to be content with the little that they have. God has used the people and circumstances here to teach me that true peace is independent of material possessions, social status, and even relationships, although they add so much to life. But true peace can only be found in God alone.<br /><br />I may not have every thing I want, but does that matter? With God I’ve lived a victorious life, rich in love and amazing relationships. It’s not about how much I have in this life, but where I keep my focus. Peace that surpasses understanding is God’s promise. Pretty soon, I’ll have to push through more challenges in life, but for now, I want to reap my rewards after long suffering and make every minute that I have left in Indonesia count.<br /><br />(<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Special message to disciples worldwide</span></span>: The Jakarta church has been a tremendous encouragement to my faith. My good friend Kelly Nico said that the Jakarta Church is a place where disciples come for healing. I didn’t think that I needed any spiritual healing when I decided to come here. It was more for adventure. But little did I know, God brought me here so I could be healed. With the set backs that our churches around the world have gone through since 2003 and some are still going through, the Jakarta church didn’t seem to be affected that much. Thanks to the strong leadership and that most people didn't have access to the Internet. Being here, I have seen people’s lives changed before my eyes, mine included. I’ve seen the scripture in Acts 2:42-47 come to life. And the Lord adds to our number. I believe God has blessed us because we love Him and each other deeply as the Bible says. The amazing thing is that I have more hope now than when I first arrived a year ago. More hope in the Word of God. To Him Be the Glory.)Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-32007889809333950902008-06-04T23:29:00.000-07:002008-08-17T21:11:00.244-07:00What have I learned about Indonesia in 1 year?<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">In Indonesia..</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span><br /><br /><ul><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You eat fried rice for breakfast.</span></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Indonesian food can be very spicy!</span></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">You can hire someone to carpool during rush hour, since it's their profession. Carpool rules: 3 in 1, not 2.</span></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Music is big here.</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Bribing a cop when you get pulled over is much more efficient.</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Pirated DVDs are dirt cheap, like $0.70 a piece.</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Going to the movies costs around $2-$5.</li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">At the theaters, sweet popcorn is more popular than buttered one.<br /></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;">A mosque will be your 5 am alarm clock. About 5 times a day<span style="font-style: italic;">( 5 am, noon, mid-afternoon, before sunset, and after sunset)</span>, you'll hear a deafening prayer from a mosque near by, and there seems to be one at every corner.</li><li face="verdana" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">People eating off your plate is considered loving.</li><li face="verdana" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Each ride you take whether by car, taxi, or motorbike (Ojek), can either tricker a heart attack or an adrenaline rush depending on the condition of your health.</li><li face="verdana" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Getting Dengue Fever is a fact of life.</li><li face="verdana" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">You are your own crossing guard when you cross a street.<br /></li><li face="verdana" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">The yellow stuff in Soto, the famous Indonesian soup, is called cumin.<br /></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;">Indonesia is about the size of the US, if you combine the land from all the islands.<br /></li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;">Earthquakes, terrorist attacks, and tsunamis are not common occurrences. As a matter of fact, Indonesians have a more relaxed attitude about these things than you'd think.</li><li face="verdana" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Wearing <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">batik</span>, or traditional Indonesian design, is in nowadays. </li><li style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;">I look like a native Indonesian.</li><li><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;">And that being here will definitely teach you patience like no others and that life is not all about material things.</span><br /></li></ul>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-67119970785471490792008-06-04T22:44:00.000-07:002008-06-05T00:03:47.202-07:00Homebound<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">A year in Indonesia is almost over, and yes, I'm going home. Thailand I mean. Well, the OC is home too but so is Thailand. Calling more than one place home is a byproduct of being a third-culture child. Anyway, back to Thailand so I can be with my parents and brother and sister-in-law, and cousins, and nanny and the extended family. The funny thing is now that I look back, I left Thailand when I was 14 and it has taken another 14 years before I will move back there again. How long will I stay there? Only God knows, but I hope for awhile. All the traveling and living in foreign countries have been fun but also exhausting. I wonder how long will it take before I get itchy feet again?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">I also read somewhere that one must go on a journey in order to find home. Is that true? I guess in my case, the statement applies.</span></span>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-52388470757932194752008-05-15T00:45:00.000-07:002008-06-05T00:24:08.572-07:00<span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Sempurna</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Kau begitu sempurna</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You are so perfect</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="font-size:100%;">Dimataku kau begitu indah</span> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> In my eyes you are so beautiful.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >kau membuat diriku akan slalu memujimu</span> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">You make me praise you always</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Disetiap langkahku</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> Every step I take,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Kukan slalu memikirkan dirimu</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> I will always think about you.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Tak bisa kubayangkan hidupku tanpa cintamu</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> I can't imagine my life without your love.</span><br /><br /><br />*<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Janganlah kau tinggalkan diriku </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> Don't you leave me</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Takkan mampu menghadapi semua </span> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">I won't be able to face life</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Hanya bersamamu ku akan bisa</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> Only with you, I will.</span><br /><br /><br />Reff:<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Kau adalah darahku </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You are my blood</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Kau adalah jantungku</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You are my heart.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Kau adalah hidupku</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" > </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You are my life.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Lengkapi diriku</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You complete me.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Oh sayangku, kau begitu</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You my love, you are so</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Sempurna.. Sempurna..</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> Perfect...</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Kau genggam tanganku</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> You hold my hand</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Saat diriku lemah dan terjatuh</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"> When I'm weak and when I fall</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Kau bisikkan kata dan hapus semua sesalku</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">You whisper words and erase all my sorrows.</span>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-22466218100761200162008-04-26T10:14:00.000-07:002008-06-05T00:23:28.797-07:00Safir 6The last time I talked about my roommates, I've only mentioned Mida and Ria. Then there's Sally. She's our helper and has been with us since I moved in. Well, she's more our caretaker and a mom, and our house would be such a mess without her. I have a rather unique friendship with Sally. She is the only person in the house whom I communicate with in Indonesian, and it seems that only we can understand each other. My broken bahasa Indonesia has gotten better mainly because of her. She is also my partner in watching American Idol. Every time she asks me what does Simon say, I'll either give a thumbs up or thumbs down, and she understands me completely.<br /><br />Well in February, Dinda moved into our house. This comming May, Dominica and Jenni will be moving into our house. There'll be 7 of us in a four bedroom house. Ever since Ria, Mida and I have dealt with the issues of our differences, God has blessed our house with so much joy and laughter. Last week, we invited some friends over for dinner and spent four hours playing the Mafia game. Everybody loved it so much, they didn't want to go home. Or a few weeks ago, we finally were able to have a group date at our house. Everybody contributed in the preparation. I made Tom Yum Kung, Mida made Pat Thai, Dinda made fried beef, Sally helped with the preparation, and we were excited to encourage the brothers. Then we shared our childhood pictures and embarrassing childhood memories. Andreas was my translator that night and he used the words "chicken sh**." I asked him to say "chicken poop" instead. He didn't think there was any difference, but I properly informed him that there's a huge difference and that he should use poop instead of sh** from now on. That very night, Dinda gave a nickname to our house--The Safir Mansion, since our house is located on Jalan Safir or Saphire Street.<br /><br />I'm grateful to see that Safir 6 isn't just a house, but a refuge to me, my roommates and those who have spent nights at our home. Some days, we have so many people in our house, it was hard to move around, but that doesn't matter. Lately, I have been thanking God for being single. I have been able to serve, enjoy, and share my time and energy in ways that I wouldn't be able to if I were married. The other day, my pregnant colleague asked me, "Don't you get lonely without a boyfriend." I told her that at times I do, but to be honest, while I'm waiting for my prince charming, I'm having a blast and my life has been well lived. And with God, life is rarely ordinary. To quote Gordon Ferguson, "Life with God is like a roller coaster. It has its ups and downs, but never boring." The freedom that accompanies surrendering and letting go of life's worldly expectations have brought me peace and contentment. I'm no saint for sure and still struggle every day, but God's been very good to me everywhere I am in this world.<br /><br />Today, I prayed that God would show me a glimpse of Heaven. Maybe he already has. Maybe he already has...Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-48321530325654117922008-04-17T20:28:00.000-07:002008-06-07T07:27:28.428-07:00Teman Teman (Friends)<span style="font-style: italic;">"Though <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;">one</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span>may be overpowered, <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">two </span>can defend themselves. A cord of <span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">three</span> </span>strands is not quickly broken."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> ~Ecclesiastes 4:12<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/SEqXIpPgXfI/AAAAAAAAAL0/uzE0Z13LR9Y/s320/darme2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209142093773037042" /><br /></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The world would be so </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">blah </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">without friends. In a previous blog, I recorded my struggle to build friendships with my roommates. Some friendships you have to fight for. Some they are just pure blessings. My friendships with Satyajeet, Jimmy, and Darme are kind of like that. Satya is a high school teacher from India. We call him Papa Jeet for short since he sponsors many of our outtings, and we often say "Thank you Papa Jeet" and rub our heads on his shoulder. Jimmy and Darme are Indonesians. Jimmy is an Ambonese singer whose slapstick humor just makes you roll on the floor; Darme is a Batuknese pre-school principal who always carries candy with her wherever she goes.</span></span></span></span><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/SEqXJ2Lj5II/AAAAAAAAAL8/4vDyagvfkmA/s320/satya+n+jim.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209142114426020994" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We've been there for each other through hell in a hand basket and back. We've laughed till our stomachs hurt, been through depths of each other's despair, or maybe just Darme's and mine, and have challenged one other in our walks with God, giving each other room to make mistakes and grow. I appreciate Satya and Jimmy's sense of humor. They are walking comedians. If I want to laugh after a long stressful day, I just hang out with these two. Darme, on the other hand, helps to balance the testosterone. One minute we can be so deep, another silly like little girls. Once in a long while, God blesses me with an incredible group of friends, and they've made my life so rich in so many ways. Some people you just feel so comfortable with that you don't mind sharing the most embarrassing moments in your life and still feel so yourself around them. They are the spices of my life. Bersyukurlah... </span></span></div></div>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-38305203558833449262008-03-26T02:23:00.000-07:002008-03-26T04:01:15.162-07:00The Home Stretch<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"A teacher affects eternity. [She] can never tell where [her] influence stops."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> ~Henry Adams<br /></span></div><div><br /></div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Today</span></span> I officially started the last term of the 2007-08 academic year. It’s the home stretch for us teachers and students. There are things to look forward to: literacy week, the school play, finals, graduation, and then, the summer holiday. Last night I arrived back in Jakarta at 1 am from my holiday in Thailand and had to wake up four hours later to go to work. (By the way, I attended my brother’s wedding last week, March 15, 2008, and I now have a beautiful sister-in-law.) All teachers seemed to benefit from the spring break. Everybody smiled and greeted me with a warm welcome back. We agree that a week off was short, but we are still in good spirit because summer is near.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Today</span></span> I got to rehearse a couple monologues with my students—Bea, Patrick, and Ella-- to prepare them for the characterization contest. One monologue was by Helena from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">A Midsummer Night’s Dream</span>. The other was the famous “All the World’s a Stage” by Jaques from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">As You Like It</span>. I thank Mr. Shakespeare for his works that have enlighten and tickled the fancy and possibly puzzled the minds of students of literature for centuries.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Today</span></span> two of my students, Johnathan and Maria, brought me gifts for Easter. John is a troubled kid who doesn’t seem to care one bit about his academic achievements, and many teachers like to roll their eyes when talking about him. But the kid is brilliant in music, loves to crack jokes and usually is the life of the party like when we went on a field trip for instance. I’m a firm believer that academic excellence isn’t the be-all and end-all. We had a verbal spat in class once, and he could be hyperactive one day and extremely lethargic the next, but through it all, I see him as a kid with a good heart who’s starving for love and attention. John told his class advisor that he likes me, and that means a lot. Then there is Maria who doesn’t seem to have any friend. She talks to me more than any of her classmates. I think I’m her only friend besides her sister. Once she invited me, and not one of her classmates, to watch a Saturday performance where she played a Chinese musical instrument. In all honesty, I can’t stand traditional Chinese music, but I had to go. The next day I told her that I was there, and I saw a hugh smile splashed across her face before she shied away. <br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Today</span></span> I watched <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Patch Adams</span> with my ninth grade class. The dismissal bell rang at the end of the day, but all their eyes, including mine, were still glued to the movie. Some students held up their four fingers and tried to see beyond what was in front of them. Hunter Adams fought to love his patients despite the strict rules and regulations; and in the same way, I have to fight to love my students. God has revealed something beautiful about each one of my kids, and I’ve definitely grown attached to them. I’m going to miss them so much when I leave. I know being a foreigner in Indonesia and dealing with the school bureaucracy have not been easy; but at the end of the day, my students are worth fighting for. I wrote in an earlier blog that teaching has taught me to think about others and not myself for once. For once, I learn to suck it up and endure so I can be there for these kids. I hope that I’ll remember this valuable experience and lesson one day when I have my own kids. The idea of happiness can be illusive, but one thing I know is that to sacrifice for others is painful but, at the same time, brings the kind of joy that words cannot describe…Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-73910960529839549362008-03-24T04:54:00.000-07:002008-03-24T11:28:54.738-07:00Out of My Element/ A Culture Clash<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">"In this proud land we grew up strong</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">We were wanted all along</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">I was taught to fight, taught to win</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">I never thought I could fail...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span></div></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">Lately I've been thinking a lot about how optimistic I was when I started out on this journey around the world. But I must say that being in Indonesia is definitely out of my element and it exposes who I am--the good, the bad, and the ugly. It's true I had asked God to help me grow, but nothing could have prepared me for Indonesia and the reality of living in a third world country where much western comfort is stripped away (Indonesia makes me appreciate Thailand a whole lot more. Even though both are considered "third-world", there are degrees of differences), of living in a place where sharing one's feelings is a novelty and expressing one's opinions is absurd and borderline tabooed; and better yet, fighting for one's rights is almost unheard of and the people of the republic say "Rights? What rights? You do what you're told. Don't be so bold, just do what you're told."<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">...Got to walk out of here</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">I can't take it anymore</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Going to stand on that bridge</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Keep my eyes down below</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">That rivers flowing</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">That rivers flowing...</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">I know there's a time and place for everything. It's not like I can just air my opinions anywhere in a western culture either. Nonetheless, the West values people speaking up, but here in Asia, or more specifically I feel in Indonesia, you are looked down upon if you do so, considering its history of hundreds of years of colonization by Japan, Britain, and mostly by the Dutch. (Speaking of which, shouldn't the West take the blame for this, but I won't go into it cos that'll just lead to a post-colonial debate of which I'm not an expert in the area.) All I know is that Indonesian people, for the most part, still like being told what to do and aren't encouraged to question things with the exception of certain media like the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Jakarta Pos</span>t. And it's too bad for me because I look Indonesian; therefore, many expect me to act like one. (Don't get me wrong. There are many good things here as I have mentioned in previous blog entries.) This section is simply my own experience toward an appreciation, or the lack thereof, in individuality and individual rights. A first-hand experience in a minute part of Anthropology 101--a collective culture. Again, it's just my opinion and you are welcome to disagree.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">A whole new world. A whole new set of values.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-style: italic;">"To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men." ~Abraham Lincoln</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-style: italic;">"In giving rights to others which belong to them, we give rights to ourselves and to our country." ~John F. Kennedy</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">The moral of the story is this: I'm more American in my head than I look. I had lived in a country where people celebrate the men and women who dare to stand out and speak up for what they believe in. However the American way isn't the only way to live. The East has its own values that, although I don't feel comfortable with, I must adapt in order to survive.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Don't give up</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">'cause you have friends</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Don't give up</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">You're not the only one</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Don't give up </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">You still have us</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Don't give up now</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">We're proud of who you are</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Don't give up</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">You know it's never been easy</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Don't give up</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">cause I believe there's a place</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">There's a place where we belong."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> ~"Don't Give Up" by Peter Gabriel</span></span></span></div><div> </div><div><br /></div>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-57799736645640974852008-02-29T19:16:00.000-08:002008-03-22T07:06:53.018-07:00Friendships Forged in Fire<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R9oo7gd2_aI/AAAAAAAAALk/kpcPb85PFRc/s1600-h/household.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177495724408372642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R9oo7gd2_aI/AAAAAAAAALk/kpcPb85PFRc/s200/household.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255); FONT-STYLE: italic">"Life is to be fortified by many friendships. To love and to be loved is the greatest happiness."</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)">~Sydney Smith</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255); FONT-STYLE: italic"><br />“Like iron sharpens iron, so one [woman] sharpens another.”</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)">- Proverbs 27:17</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">So when God puts difficult people or situations in your life, do you run away or embrace them? </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">Well, I'm a natural runner and normally run the first chance I get. I rather not deal with them, people or things. So I go out for a drink (no actually I don't drink). I can go to the movies since I'm in Jakarta and that's the main form of entertainment besides mall hopping; or sleep through it. I can get creative with the running methods, but the truth is if I don't deal with problems in life, they'll come back and bite me in the behind sooner or later. It's the law of life--like gravity.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">Of which has led me to share with you about this remarkable story. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">God has put me in a house with two wonderful housemates: Mida, a former accountant who now works in admin for a British offshore company; Ria, a nationally known singer and full-time staff for our church, and then there's me, an opinionated teacher and glob-trekker. It’s amazing how we all can speak English and yet we speak totally different languages when it comes to Love. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">At first, we got along just fine. You know, like being on a honeymoon. Everything’s new. You don’t mind if they step on your toes. You think, no problem dear, I love you still. What’s the use of bringing up every little thing they do that hurt you, or things they do that are simply...uh...strange! It’s ok lah, as a Malaysian’d say. Lah-ti-da, move on girlfriend. It’s no big deal. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">And ladies, you how things can brew over days, weeks, and months. Thank God it hasn’t been years for my housemates and I. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">After awhile, we talked a little less. Then we got too busy for each other. And when we saw each other, we didn’t talk about what really bothered us, things that polluted our hearts. Maybe we didn’t want to rock the “happy” boat we were on. So over time, we began to assume things about each other, whether good or bad. And our hearts took the toll. It became a little harder each day, colder and darker. Our home no longer was a safe haven or a place of laughter. We didn’t even laugh together anymore. We avoided each other, avoided dealing with the truth in our hearts. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">I remember one day we discussed about how I write in my blog about my experiences in Indonesia and the amazing people who have made an impact in my life. Then Mida said that her name and Ria's weren’t on my blog, yet they live with me. Well...</span><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R9oo8Ad2_bI/AAAAAAAAALs/NM7zl1X4ev8/s1600-h/volcano.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177495732998307250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R9oo8Ad2_bI/AAAAAAAAALs/NM7zl1X4ev8/s200/volcano.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">At this point, a bit of earth science knowledge comes in handy. According to my recent Internet research, Indonesia has the most active volcanoes in the world and is part of the Pacific Ring of Fire. Thus, you often hear on the news about earthquakes and such. People may know nothing about Indonesia but that earthquakes and tsunamis happen here. Well, that’s besides the point. Anyhow, I recently went to a volcano called Tanggu Banprahu on Java Island. The hot lava in the crater just simmered and let out constant hot steam. But as you know, underneath a volcano, continental plates rub against each other,generating an extremely high level of heat. And when the heat is the most intense, a volcano explodes and the hot lava spews forth for it can no longer be kept under wraps.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">Thus is the same behavior for the lava of the heart. </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">The eruption is the climax of my story where the lava sputters and oozes down the sides of a volcano, providing the top soil with rich nutrients forged deep in the heart of the earth. And according to the short story tradition, we are now moving on to the resolution.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">We talked, shed tears, and opened up to each other. It was probably one of the most amazing moments in my life. A huge burden had been lifted. The junk in our hearts was thrown out and God filled it with love. We realized how much we needed each other. And to quote Mida, she said “We complete each other.” Their strength in evangelism is my weakness; my strength in deep emotional/character growth is their weakness. But together, we change for the better. I'm a better person because they are in my life and vice versa. We’ve also learned to love each other better. Mida’s love language is gifts, Ria is words of affirmation, and mine is quality time. Our friendships have truly been forged in the fire and have come out purer, stronger, and better in every way. Praise God that three women from different backgrounds who have hurt each other can learn to love better and more deeply the way Jesus talked about in John 15:13 “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” We aren’t perfect, but we try…</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)">We've had some beautiful and crazy experiences since then, some of which are inappropriate to the children's ears, so I'll stop here.<br /></span>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-37003340137413263652007-09-26T01:51:00.000-07:002008-04-26T11:19:44.606-07:00On Becoming a MillionaireIndonesia is where one can easily become a millionaire. At the rate I'm going, I'll reach the point of becoming a billionaire in no time. On average, I pay about 10 to 15 thousand rupiah for a cheap meal. Last time I spent 7000 rupiah for a can of coke and my friend Sally said that it's "mahal" or expensive. I was paying the "bule" rate. (Speaking of the word "bule," in every non-western country I presume, has a word for the white man. In Thai, they are called "farang," in Cambodian "marang," in Spanish, you call them "gringos" and here in Indonesia, they are "bule.")<br /><br />Every time I leave the country, I have to pay a million rupiah fiscal, quite outrageously expensive. Also over here when renting an apartment or a house, people pay for a year or two in advance! (I often wonder how on earth can they save up that kind of money. Or maybe Indonesians know something about the value of savings that many of us westerners or westernized younger generations may not.) Not only that, sometimes rent can be as expensive or more than in the US, depening upon the kind of living situation you prefer. Do you want an apartment, a house, a mansion, or a castle? Take your pick. A lavish lifestyle is easily accessible by many foreigners.<br /><br />However, I've adopted to live the ways of the locals by taking buses and eating local food. I figured since I already had food poisoning, by now, my stomach should be as strong as steel. I definitely don't want to miss out on the tasty Sundanese food that tastes much better if you dine with your hands. (Adding to the taste, of course, are the raw elements coming from your hands!)<br /><br />On another note, I guess I could have lived high on the hog but then again, I need to save money for more traveling in the future and am still paying back that thing called "student loans!!!" It's actually not all bad living like the locals. For instance, taking a bus here is definitely a thrill that doesn't figuratively cost an arm and a leg, but it may <em>literally</em> do so. Still, I like it because it reminds me of riding on a roller coaster.<br /><br /><em>"I think that travel comes from some deep urge to see the world, like the urge that brings up a worm in an Irish bog to see the moon when it is full." ~Lord Dunsany</em>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-24719517585295010132007-09-23T17:16:00.000-07:002007-12-27T03:45:57.785-08:00Mataku Tlah Melihat Kemuliaan<em><span style="color:#999900;">"My eyes have seen the glory of the Lord."<br /></span></em><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3NqsXgnBdI/AAAAAAAAAJg/3fHUu1WboQw/s1600-h/CIMG2871.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148576109472187858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3NqsXgnBdI/AAAAAAAAAJg/3fHUu1WboQw/s200/CIMG2871.jpg" border="0" /></a>Never in a million years had I planned to come to Indonesia. But I'm here now and God has never stopped to amaze me. Oh, the wildness of God! Who can comprehend? I'm falling more and more in love with God, his people and this country as the days go by. I still remember the first few weeks of wanting to get out of here as soon as possible: being lost in translation, having no hot water, getting food poisoning, feeling homesick, facing the chaos at work, and missing close friendships. There were times when I just asked God to give me enough strength for the day and nothing more. Why God? Why did you allow me be here? I heard no answers. But while waiting, God has taught me to find comfort in Him and Him alone, to see things from his perspective, to trust in his great plans and that he knows what he's doing with me. My life story is being written by the hands of the living God.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#999900;">My eyes have seen the glory of the Lord.<br /></span></em><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3NjGngnBcI/AAAAAAAAAJY/uoGZlnasQPI/s1600-h/becky.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148567764350731714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3NjGngnBcI/AAAAAAAAAJY/uoGZlnasQPI/s200/becky.jpg" border="0" /></a>On one Sunday about two weeks after I got here, I specifically prayed that God'd bless me with a friend who was going through the same situation as me--another "fresh of the boat" foreigner, another Alicia perhaps. And watchabygollywhoa! On that very day, I met Becky Vail. Not only was she new in town, she is also a disciple from Seattle who happened to just move to Indonesia to teach! As if God knew we'd need each other, a fellow soldier in the battle, as if God had planned this all along. "He determined the times set for (us) and the exact places where (we) should live."<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#999900;">My eyes have seen the glory of the Lord.<br /></span></em><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6VHgnBeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/v1jTrA4HA4Q/s1600-h/CIMG2874.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148593302226273762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6VHgnBeI/AAAAAAAAAJo/v1jTrA4HA4Q/s200/CIMG2874.jpg" border="0" /></a>The other day I was doing a slideshow presentation of my Papua New Guinea trip to my ninth grade students for a development studies class. I had never thought that I'd be sharing about God's glory from my travels to students. And the kids loved it, seeing their teacher's painted face in the native grass skirt costume. Moreover one girl is currently studying the Bible. Another girl, with a Muslim background, is trying to convince her mom to let her study the Bible. Many students have brought their friends to church. And yes, I see my students at church every Sunday. Quite strange in the beginning, but I've gotten used to it.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#999900;">My eyes have seen the glory of the Lord.</span></em><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6WngnBgI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/odqp8Byt-PA/s1600-h/CIMG2437.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148593327996077570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6WngnBgI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/odqp8Byt-PA/s200/CIMG2437.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm building deeper friendships with the brothers and sisters here, growing closer to God, learning and studying the Bible with Indonesians. Aku belajar bahasa Indonesia dan bisa menyanyi dua lagu di bahasa Indonesia. Oh Tuhan, biarlah api ini terus berkobar.<br /><em><span style="color:#999900;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#999900;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#999900;">Mataku tlah melihat kemuliaan!<br /></span></em><br />"Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy."<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6WHgnBfI/AAAAAAAAAJw/-hbFsXm22t8/s1600-h/CIMG2387.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148593319406142962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6WHgnBfI/AAAAAAAAAJw/-hbFsXm22t8/s200/CIMG2387.jpg" border="0" /></a>(By the way, have I mentioned that Indonesians can really sing? The song ministry here is the best I've seen yet...)<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6XHgnBhI/AAAAAAAAAKA/orGj9mCJrZE/s1600-h/CIMG2908.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148593336586012178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3N6XHgnBhI/AAAAAAAAAKA/orGj9mCJrZE/s200/CIMG2908.jpg" border="0" /></a>Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-2354246752946438442007-08-31T01:57:00.000-07:002007-12-28T05:59:32.041-08:00Why Teaching?<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3T_LHgnBlI/AAAAAAAAAKg/wlR3KPukjKM/s1600-h/CIMG2777.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3T_LHgnBlI/AAAAAAAAAKg/wlR3KPukjKM/s200/CIMG2777.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149020840450786898" /></a>I've worked many odd jobs in my life--washing dishes, waiting tables, representing a radio station, cleaning vacation homes, in sales, catering, working at a library, a county fair, a call center, a law office, an architectural firm, a telecommunication and a real estate company--but nothing is like teaching. For the first time in my working life, I can say that none of these jobs brought me as much joy, and possibly stress, as teaching. I maybe underpaid but I'm actually loving what I do. At one point in my life, I never thought work can be genuinely rewarding and exciting.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3OaMXgnBjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/F6J-l1u3cg8/s1600-h/my+students7b.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148628336274507314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3OaMXgnBjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/F6J-l1u3cg8/s200/my+students7b.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />For us teachers, we are also known to be counselor, security guard, therapist, babysitter, disciplinarian, appointment setter, event organizer, cleaner, and mom and dad to our students. Being involved in the students' lives gives me a sense of joy because, somehow, I'm making a difference. No one day in a teacher's life is ever the same but full of a myriad surprises from your students. It's a joy. A privilege. A gift of giving. A stress. A love. It's been awhile since I think of how to better others' lives and not just my own...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3OaL3gnBiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QZTPVnYdbf8/s1600-h/callum.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148628327684572706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KrGCObFM9U4/R3OaL3gnBiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/QZTPVnYdbf8/s200/callum.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is my favorite second grader--Callum Gordon. Callum is half-Thai, half-English and came to Indonesia about a year ago and couldn't speak a lick of English then. I was designated to be his personal tutor. Callum had a reputation of walking out of his classroom if he didn't understand what was going on. When I first started tutoring him, He'd often bite me, teasingly of course, and run around when I asked him to sit down. I didn't know if I could do it because I barely had the energy left after all day of teaching and to spend it on getting him to simply sit was definitely taxing. But then I sorta figured him out. When he ran around, I'd tell him to come back after 5 or 10 minutes. And usually after he let out his excess energy, he'd come back to me. Sometimes, he'd scream and cry and call me crazy when I tried to get him to read. I didn't want him to hate me, but it was necessary to threanten him that I'd tell his parents. Thank goodness, the kid still has the fear of his parents.<br /><br />Anyhow, I think he has a crush on me too, as explained by my friend Chris. Well, I think it's mutual! When he sees me around the school, he often yells out my name and because of that I've become quite popular among second graders. Now Callum is spelling out words as he sees them on the streets and has made a significant improvement in his classes. I'm so proud of him!Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-56786369288360678882007-08-06T20:31:00.000-07:002007-10-19T13:42:04.084-07:00It Is Well...With My SoulYes, I am in Indonesia. But that’s far from the complete truth. I’m teaching middle/high school and didn’t know what subjects I was supposed to teach my teenage students on the first day of class in Indonesia. I felt like a lamb thrown into a pack of wolves...<br /><br />On the first day, I spent four hours with a bunch of seven graders. Four hours! Green as a blade of grass, I was. Other veteran teachers didn’t seem to sweat it one bit. Give them ten hours with the same group of kids, and they’d say <em>bring it on</em>. I seemed to be the only one running around like a chicken with its head cut off. What the credential program taught us back in the US came back to haunt me: you’ve got to make a good impression and set the tone for the rest of the year; otherwise, watch out, they’ll run wild, run the class and, eventually, run you! What if they asked me all kinds of questions that I couldn’t answer like what are you going to teach us exactly? Or why do we have to spend four hours with you? Thank God these kids aren’t like what I’d experienced in US schools. Don’t get me wrong. I had lots of good kids in my classes back in the US and, of course, some wild ones who made me think more than twice about teaching as a career. A few teachers here would complain about kids misbehaving, and I’d gently reassure them, <em>You ain’t see nothin’ yet until you teach in an American high school</em>. If you can handle a classroom full of American teenagers, you can teach anywhere.<br /><br />For some reasons, I was confident that there wouldn't be much of a culture shock for me in Indonesia. After having traveled to a few Asain countries, I began to get cocky with my ability to adapt to new places. That's why I love traveling because it gives me opportunities to see things in my character.<br /><br />For instance, when it comes to work, I was used to the way things are run in the US. Efficiency is the name of the game. Not to say that Indonesians aren’t efficient. It’s just that their definition of “efficiency” and many other words are defined in different ways. Things like passing out wedding invitations just two weeks before the wedding. Well, I’m thinking a few months or half a year is more like it. Also when you cross a street, forget the crosswalks or hitting the button for the little-white-human light to appear at an intersection. Here, one needs to practice the art of <em>Jakartan Street Crossing</em>—nothing too complicated--simply close your eyes, say a prayer and cross...<br /><br />It’s been over two weeks since that first day of school, and I’m still breathing. As a matter of fact, I’m beginning to enjoy teaching what I know and love like literature. There’s nothing better than getting paid to do what you love. The kids here are wonderful after all, although some teachers would say that’s a matter of opinion. I’m starting to get used to the life in Jakarta, basking in the traffic, the fumes and pollution. I once told a friend of how I miss nature. He said that after awhile you’ll get used to the traffic and will miss the traffic when you're away. I’ll see about that. But all in all, it is well…with my soul here in Indonesia.Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-75731814530309812052007-07-15T19:54:00.000-07:002008-04-26T11:28:53.895-07:00My First Written Contact to the Outside World(Via Email)<br /><br />Dear All,<br /><br />Greetings from Jakarta, Indonesia.<br /><br />I'm alive and well and back again, this time 6 degrees down under. I just can't seem to get away from the Southern Hemisphere. I have now landed a teaching gig here, teaching middle school, which I had vowed to never ever teach that level again in America. And lo and behold! I can't run away from it. The contract says 2 years and I hope to last that long. I'm living in a house of 5 girls plus a helper(Now that's difficult). Our complex is full of mansions, but not the one we're living in. While in this complex, you may very well think you're in America, except that extreme poverty is just right outside the community gate. Quite a stark contrast.<br /><br />I haven't yet experienced a terrorist attack and, to tell the truth, Indonesia is a rather alluring country and I won't be surprised if I'll not want to leave when the time comes. (So, don't always believe what the media says.)<br /><br />I've been keeping myself busy with school, church, and learning Bahasa or Indonesian language. I hope that I don't lose my English or start speaking with a new accent, which tends to happen.<br /><br />To all the disciples, the church here is doing awesome for being in the largest Muslim country. There are about over a thousand of us in Jakarta alone and there are still others in the provinces, as well as Bali. The disciples are continually studying, baptizing and loving people, and I'm looking forward to learning many things from the Indonesian churches. I'm also living and working with disciples and can't ask for anything better. Also the music ministry continues to amaze me even though I don't really understand the lyrics. Indonesians can really sing!<br /><br />I'm sure more challenges will come but for now, I'm trying to be grateful for all the good times and the bad. There were a brother and a sister from America who taught at the same school for two years. (So teachers, if you want to come out and experience this jungle adventure, let me know.)<br /><br /><br />I'd love to hear from y'all when you get a chance.<br /><br />love,<br />NinaNina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046655309339356595.post-66308278711793961722007-07-12T19:38:00.001-07:002007-08-06T20:42:12.221-07:00The Price I PayWhen I told people that I was moving to Indonesia, their first question generally was "Why?" followed by "Are you out of your mind?" And oh the look on their faces, expressing such terror, disappointment and pity. People can't grasp why someone who can live and work comfortably in countries like the USA would want to move to places like Indonesia. Maybe I'm just weird, backward, and crazy. Or maybe my life if being let by the hand of God?<br /><br />There are hard times when you travel to new places on your own, especially for a single woman. But eventually you begin to meet like-minded people and start to form your own community wherever you go, and you realize that you're not that crazy after all--well maybe a little.<br /><br />Traveling is teaching me to be less of a control freak since there are many variables that come with it-- like during my layover in Malaysia. I ended up spending the night at the Kuala Lumpur Airport, freezing my little rearend off with a thin towel over me and constantly waking up to every announcement and noise of passerbys and having to endure the itch from sleeping on a flea-infested airport bench that probably had not been cleaned for decades--the experience that made the movie <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Terminal </span>come to life. I could have sworn, but I won't, that I booked my hotel reservation online the night before and got a confirmation. But when I arrived at 10 pm, the hotel receptionist said my name was not on the list and I happened to lose the print out of the confirmation along the way, oh so unlike me. Then the receptionist, in such a stealth manner, whispered that he'd still give me a room after he obviously had marked up the price. I said no thanks since I had to wake up early to catch a 7 am flight to Jakarta anyway. I mean things like this are bound to happen when you need to watch your budget; however, the woes of traveling can also add the flavor to your stories. And don't we all love to hear the sufferings of others to ease some of our pain and know that we're not the only one. The fiasco continued all the way until I got out of the Indonesian immigration, but I won't go into detail right now. Needless to say, I was glad to have arrived and not linger any minute longer in transit...Nina Chaiyapinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18373209048116774879noreply@blogger.com0