Polaroid pictures

Last week, I received some Polaroid film in the mail. This week, I’ve been taking pictures.

I’m sitting here watching a game of chess. I’m outside, in the shade, and the wind is blowing gently.

This morning, I went to the pasar. You would call it a traditional market, but it’s hard for me to think of the English name in my mind.

As I was walking there with Mikaela, the morning sun was rising but still low, casting the long, cool shadows across the road to provide relief from the warmth. It feels the same here.

The sun doesn’t change on the other side of the world. The freshness of the early morning is still the same. The sweet song of birds welcoming the sun still brings the same joy to my heart. The cool, quietness of the morning still causes me to rejoice in my God, bringing words of praise to mind. These things stay the same.

I am out taking Polaroid pictures and I come to a red dirt field. Boys are playing soccer on it, and in the background the sun is setting against the hills behind, full of houses and mosques and life. The boys are full of life, their spirits strong.

I come back to my friends and they are still playing chess. They offer me a drink, persistent in their hospitality. The sun is almost down now, my favorite time of day. Life feels good, in this moment it is beautiful.

Sometimes I forget that I’m white. Then I see my reflection. Sometimes I forget that I’m in Asia. When I look at a car on the road, sometimes I expect the driver to be white, but they never are. White people don’t leave the malls and accepted white people spots. Except for us.  We go everywhere.

Last night, I went to my new favorite place with my friends. You sit on the ground, on carpets around low tables. There’s a candle on the table, and lights wrapped around the trunks of the palm trees. There’s always live music, a man with a guitar or sometimes a few people playing. The food is cheap. When I eat there, I feel like I’m a part of the life here.

One morning, on the bus, I asked a lady for help with my homework. The next morning, I got on a bus and sat down. Then I realized that I was sitting next to the same lady again. We said hello.

The old man in front of us was delighted that I could say a few words. Soon, I will say more.

Tomorrow, maybe the sun will be fierce again or maybe the rain will bring the cool winds. Either way, we will live, and rejoice, and life will continue.

You accept life here. What you can have, you take. What you can’t have, you do without. Life is slow, friendships are strong, and God loves us all with a love bigger than the ocean surrounding this little piece of earth where He longs to bring a piece of heaven.