The Last Night in Meulaboh

Dear Friends,

This is my last night here. The rain is pouring harder than I have heard it yet. It is a relief. I will miss the rain here, the untamed tears that come gushing at unpredictable times of the day…so loud that it drowns out the music from my lap top on full volume. It waxes and wanes…in indecision of whether there are more disappointments to complain of for the moment.

Clara said to me at our last dinner tonight…'try not to be such a perfectionist, Bev,' in the way she says Bev frequently interjected into short sentences she likes to use. 'you're already doing everything with your heart, Bev…you know you have to enjoy every moment of the processes…of life.' That's really all she said…she never says much, but I think I will remember this.

I ate 5 dishes of sauce with my squished chicken today…like an appropriate last time. Record breaking really. I know I will be back. But not for a long time I know. This place has gotten sweeter and softer than I remember it to be. Perhaps that is what friendship feels like…with people, with a place.

All in all I feel quite lucky this time…actually, amazingly lucky. Things somehow fell into place for the time being. Perhaps God was watching over me this time around. Perhaps I finally learned not to set my goals too high.

My professor toasted me today. It meant a lot to me but somehow not too much. I didn't really feel the need for the affirmation. I consider that a big step for me.

There was a big dinner party at the office for the departure of Dr. Rizal yesterday. I finally felt part of the family like never before. I bought the girls in the office silly headbands with pom poms on them. They thoroughly enjoyed it for every bit of the 5,000 Rupiah they were worth. Giving gifts are by far what makes me the happiest out of all the things I could do. I often forget that.

I will miss Faras, the granddaughter of my landlords here. She is one of those children who exemplifies everything good and beautiful about childhood…innocence, curiosity, mirth, spontaneity. Children are even harder to describe than adults probably. Perhaps because words are invented by adults. She named the stuffed cat I gave her Susie, but the first name was inevitably Animal.

I finished inputting the data from the census of the village. I'm so proud of the women of this village to have contributed so much. Mostly though because I'm so impressed that they actually managed to administer most of the questionnaire correctly, a process I doubt they have ever encountered before…a stream of Boolean logic so routine for our overly-educated scientific minds, so artificial and awkward for what nature intended.

I am impressed by this place: the people, their challenges, their inevitable flaws, and their energy that flourishes here in the exhausting heat and extinguishing rain. I could not live here, but I wouldn't want to ever stop coming back.

Bev