Paul's visit to England

So last week (Wednesday 23rd April) I returned to England for a family wedding. I traveled alone, Emily and the boys stayed here in Indonesia, which meant they missed out on quite a lot, but it made my traveling a little simpler. It takes a long time to fly from Indonesia to England (about 15 hours flight time) and waiting around in departure lounges for several hours made me appreciate the size of our planet. It is often said that the world is becoming smaller, but until it shrinks one day in the wash it remains a jolly big lump of rock to fly around.

“Oddly familiar” I answered.

I had been met at the airport by my in laws and taken to their house to find my feet (literally, I needed to loose the flip flops and put on my snow boots ready for a week in England) and have a cup of tea. I chose coffee instead and sat in front of the open fire with the wood gently hissing and crackling.

“How does it feel to be back then” was the question. And it felt like I could have been sitting there having a cup of coffee last week, as if Indonesia didn’t exist, that I’d not just flown half way round the world; it was oddly familiar, I wasn’t sure how it should feel.

My week was busy; the wedding was on the Saturday, Thursday and Friday were spent preparing, Sunday there was a blessing then I talked at two churches, Monday shopping, Tuesday I had breakfast in York then back through Manchester to pop into the office and finally on Wednesday I went to the airport and nestled into economy class for the long trip home.

Home?

I thought a lot about home during this visit. Was I returning home when I flew to England or when I flew to Indonesia? I found as the week went on that it felt like home, but that I missed home, which mean that Indonesia is home, no wait if I felt at home in England then England would be home. The answer came to me as I was flying away from England on course for Indonesia. I now have two homes, two locations that are comfortable, familiar and where I have family.

Then the phrase ‘home is here the heart is’ popped into my head and I began to understand why I’d been an emotional wreck all week. I’d expected to miss my family and the girls, left behind in Indonesia and I also knew it would be hard to say goodbye to family and friends in England, but my emotions were a lot nearer the surface than I realized. There were several occasions when tears would come to my eyes or I’d find it hard to talk because of emotion. These times were not due to thinking about people I was missing, although there were times when that was the case, no, it was just a struggle to contain my emotions at the most unlikely times.

So now I had ‘home is where the heart is’ in my head and a lot of emotions sneaking up and shouting boo at ill timed moments, that’s when it hit me. My heart was in both places, England and Indonesia and while in the air my heart had been torn open slightly and my emotions were spilling out. It was incredibly hard saying goodbye, maybe harder than when we left England last August. I realized how much I missed the girls in the dorm and how they are my family in Indonesia, obviously Emily, Luke and Isaac are my family also, but I hadn’t realized how much I might miss the girls and how they are a part of my family. It was hard to talking with people about the two seniors who will be moving out of the dorm in four weeks time. It seems we’ve only just got to know them and we already have to let them go, it’s too soon, I want to get to know them more.

Now I’m home, in Indonesia, waving farewell to my other home, England. It’s really good to be back and the excited welcome from the girls bowled me over and being greeted and hugged by Emily, Luke and Isaac in the rain was perfect. I’ll catch up with all the jetlag another time; it’s time for me to get back to work now

Paul

Emily's Overdue Secret

Some people invest money wisely; they enquire about ISA’s, open a high interest savings account or buy stocks or shares in a company. Other people like my wife, Emily invest in libraries. Now don’t assume that because Emily loves books she kindly donates money by direct debit each month enabling the library to by lots of encyclopaedias; that would be known as a false assumption.

Emily is fantastic at returning books late, this leads to large library fines. I hoped that by moving to the other side of the world she might leave this annoying habit behind, my hope was crushed yesterday.

In the (internal) post came the notice, OVERDUE book. The school didn’t know Emily’s past before they allowed her to borrow books, if they had they would have kindly and politely sent her packing. They didn’t know better and it would seem Emily didn’t either; here she had a clean slate, a chance to break this pattern of behaviour, to learn a better way.

The school has the most dangerous policy when it comes to overdue library books; it dangerous because they don’t charge any fines to members of staff. Emily (aka the chicken) sent me to return the book. When I returned giving the news about there being no fine Emily punched the air letting out a relieved and satisfied YES!

This is the worst possible outcome for Emily (as I see it). What incentive is there for her to ever return library books on time; the library will have to raid the dorm in search of overdue books if they ever want to get them back.

If this habit is not turned around I fear that the £18 fines I’ve paid in the past in UK libraries will double or even triple when we return home. I think she may need some help in the future.

the cecak and the toaster, a true story

Just before I get started let me teach you how to pronounce the word cecak. The Indonesians use a ch sound whenever there is a c; so cecak when sounded out is like this: cheechak; now on with the story:

The toaster enjoys a peaceful life on the kitchen work top. Every now and then its insides are warmed as bread is placed into the toasters mouth and its belly button is pressed. The toasters body temperature rises and the bread is gently toasted; when the toaster is ready it spits the toast up to be taken away and adorned with butter and jam. It’s a simple life for the toaster.

The toaster wasn’t happy! Emily had noticed that for a day or so the toaster looked a little speckled, like it had contracted a skin condition. On examination she was discovered it not to be a skin infection, but an infestation of tiny red ants; they had come to consume the food in the toaster.

A friendly cecak had come along for a meal as well. He’d come to eat the crumbs of bread the toaster kindly leaves under its belly for those needing its charity; except the cecak was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Emily was the first to discover the horrific truth. The cecak had got to close to the electrical parts of the toaster and as the toaster had started to do what it does best, warmed its insides, the cecak was electrocuted and fused in place.

The cecak’s back legs were on the worktop, the rest of its body inside the toaster, the ants all over it. Emily took the toaster outside and called the bug exterminator. I (Paul, the bug man; cockroach squishing a speciality) turned up to deal with the problem. First things first the cecak can’t stay there. I find the long nose pliers and gently ease it out; I don’t want to pull too hard for fear of pulling it in half. It’s out, few. I toss it over the back fence to be eaten by the bugs outside, brush the tiny red ants off my arms and return to the toaster. I decide for the all round happiness of our family and the toaster to give the toaster a good clean. The red ants are still eating the tiny bits of skin left form the front paws of the cecak, they’ll have to move, it’s deep clean time.

Once cleaned the toaster is placed back in its familiar place atop the worktop. It looks grateful I think. It was obviously not too disturbed by the ordeal as it made good toast the following day. Emily and I have an unspoken rule now; not to talk about the cecak in the toaster while one of us is making toast. The toaster has also taken an oath of silence; we all agree it’s for the best.