Mixed bag

I went to bed absolutely exhausted, and quite pleased with myself! :-) The dish I made for last night's Indonesian community's celebration of the end of Ramadan (called Lebaran) was a hit - particularly with two ladies who asked for the recipe. Wow! I felt so flattered that they sought out who made it and then quizzed me on it. I guess that means they liked it. :-)

But there is another side to attending those Indonesian gatherings. It is a reminder of how Indonesian I am not. So much of me feels Indonesian. So much of me that most people don't see. But then when I'm surrounded by the beautiful brown skin, the language flying around, and I'm only catching about half of what's said, and they all know each other so well, I am the obvious outsider. Makes me sad.

And now with Dad's death, and having neither parent, I feel like I've lost my Indonesian root. I can't really explain that, except to say that my parents were two of the champions of the Indonesian within me. They understood better than almost anyone what parts of me were Indonesian, how I grew up longing to look like those around me, and the struggles all that has meant throughout my life.

Another loss, one more thing to process, another piece of the puzzle. Perhaps we all have to deal with some feelings of rootlessness when we loose both our parents, when we become orphans in this world. The oak from which our acorn fell is gone, and we are left tossed in the wind of the world.

Living in this truth, in this place, I am very thankful for my root in God. It defines much of who I am and what I am to do while on this Earth. I am thankful for my sisters and family who can remind me of who I am, where I come from, and the stories we don't want to forget. I am thankful for my friends who love me just as I am - Indonesian, American, or the strange mix that I am. And I am thankful for the Indonesia that is in me. To paraphrase Barbara Kingsolver from "Poisonwood Bible", I will never be able to wash the dirt, the smell, the culture, the love of Indonesia out of my skin.

Because it is a part of me. That is who I am.