The end

I am going to share excerpts from my journal from the last few days of my stay.  This might be a little more personal, but I don't feel like writing anything, and they express the end of my journey fairly well.

The last few weeks

 The last 3 or so weeks of my stay in Indonesia were very different from the rest of my stay.  A lot started clicking for me about the culture, people, poverty, and spiritual practices.  I finally felt like I started to understand how they all work together and why they exist and function as they do.

12/13/10   3 days left

     It's starting to feel like I'm actually about to leave now.  The end of my time here has been the best as is almost always the case, but I'm more than ready to go home.  This has been a long and trying journey - as well as one of the best ones.  I still don't really know what I'm doing here or how I got here, but I do know why I'm here.  God brought me here for many reasons I think.  He showed me so much of Himself here, led me to meet all the right people, read all the perfect books, and see first-hand His work here.  I learned I need to rely on Him fully and know better how to do that; I saw the darkness of a place that calls down other spirits to worship and the effects of that on its society; I saw how Jesus can take those same people and bring them to a place of true freedom, to the one place of light shining in the dark; I learned what poverty does to people and how Satan uses their situation against them; I experienced God's heart for this broken country within each individual; I saw how desperately lost the people are here, how blindly deceived, and how paramount their fear; I saw the truth that although they are too scared to ever be alone, they are always lonely because their trust in other people was broken at a young age; I saw the sparkle of hope, a moments flicker of life in their eyes when I shared the Gospel with them.
       The situation here is so dire.  I no longer wonder how such injustice and corruption can occur in this country or in this world, but rather I wonder how it can not occur.


Aftermath 

Here is some of what I wrote in my journal right after I flew from Indonesia to Spain.

12/18/10   On the bus from Barcelona to Madrid

• The first step off the plane: The air was brisk and fresh.  So foreign and seemingly unnatural, yet completely natural-feeling.  I felt cold air.  Natural, cold air.  I started crying. 
• A few minutes later: The guy running the taxi line is trying to help me find the Spanish words that I was looking for since I could only remember a few words.  Among the phrases he helped me with: "Cuanto cuesta" and "cuanto tiempo".  I said "lo siento" because I was wasting his time.  He said don't worry, calm down, and he'll help me figure it all out.  I couldn't believe the amount of energy, enthusiasm and kindness he used helping me, a complete stranger - American at that - who could barely speak his language.  One of the nicest men I've met in a long time.  Since then (in the last few hours) almost everyone I've asked questions to is just as understanding and helpful.  I never realized Spaniards were like that - I think when I lived here I took the good for granted (or as a requirement) and only the bad was left to see. 
• Bus just stopped at a stoplight - almost no cars passed - yet the bus just sat there at this quiet intersection and waited.  Weird.  I think Indonesians would not be able to comprehend that/would not abide by it/would think it doesn't make sense.  It was a really weird feeling just now- I wondered what we were doing and why and consider it very bizarre.  The streets are no longer a free-for-all.
• Cafe's, cervecerias, and little places everywhere you can go sit in and get coffee and sit or get a nepolitana or chorizo.  No one bothers you or notices you.  Only a few people are in each cafe.  Sepi.  So inviting and nice.  I feel so happy seeing these places - I'm almost moved to tears.  No one here is looking at me.
• I swear the guy behind me was speaking bahasa but when I started listening I realized it is Spanish.  I'm going crazy.  I hear Indonesian everywhere.
• I once again remember how sunlight can be pleasing, or even heavenly.  Sitting outside on the cold concrete bench before I got on this bus the sun-rays lightly warmed me.  They felt so far away.  So beautiful. 
• I remember how Spain is my second home now.  Although I am once again a foreigner here, I feel like I'm home, like I'm visiting a home from my past.  I understand the culture so much more here (than Indo) because I was once part of it.  It's so comforting and assuring to understand what is going on around me.  My heart is full of happiness and again I want to cry.
• I haven't slept in 33 hours.  It feels longer.  That means I've been traveling for 31 hours.  7.5 left till I reach Madrid.  It's 11:15am in Spain, 5:15pm in Sumatra.
• Right now I almost can't even fathom how I considered Spain barely civilized/developed country.  It seems so nice and developed/modern to me right now.  I'm almost scared to see what America will look like.

12/20/10  In a cafe in Madrid

• Only 2.4 years since I left here and I've forgotten 90% of it - and almost all of the feel of it - which is the essence of a place, its core.  And that very thing is the part that is almost impossible to retain in memory.
• Looking around, I don't remember feeling or being so similar to people here - part of that I'm sure is due to the fact that I'm in Madrid, not Alcalá, [the small Spanish city I lived in,] right now, but I don't feel out of place at all.
• I know this is strange, but it's almost comforting to know the few looks I am getting here (which are all from men) are because they find me attractive.  Though I remember hating that, as I'm sure I would again if I stayed here longer, it somehow affirms that I am seen as a human being to them rather than some sort of fantastical creature (like in Indo.) that is awed at because it is so rare, but that is also laughed at, chased, ran away from, exploited, talked about directly in front of; basically it is treated as it is seen: an animal.  Very few, if not none, see past its exterior and realize that the fantastical animal they see is only fantasy -- what they see masks its true identity.

Thank you everyone for reading and supporting me for the last 5 months.  Happy New Year!