Women I know--Wanda

Indonesian Women I know: Wanda

Today I’m returning to my series on Indonesian women. I’ve decided to call the woman I’m highlighting today—Wanda (not her real name).

Wanda is a young 21-year-old Muslim woman with a son my own son’s age. We’ve both enjoyed seeing our kids grow and develop at about the same pace. I hope they can continue to be each other’s friends as they grow up.

Wanda was arranged in a marriage to her distant cousin—a guy she never met before a few weeks before her wedding. There is a belief in her ethnic group that a woman should NOT refuse a marriage proposal because it is believed that the woman will never get another one and will end up an old maid. So, she accepted.

Before she got married, she lived on the island of Sulawesi in Indonesia. But now she lives on the island of Tarakan-where I live—in a house with her parents-in-law. She is young, and a bit timid, especially when it comes to her relationship with her in-laws. Her husband has a job that takes him out of the home about half of the time. Wanda rarely leaves the house and never does anything to exert her own independence or desires. To my western eyes, she looks like she’s a bit in prison there in that house—without the freedom to come and go as she pleases. But I know she’s trying to do her best to show respect where it is expected in this culture.

Recently, she changed the name of her son at the urging of her younger sister-in-law, who said the original name was not a good name for him. Again, this looked a bit odd and uncomfortable from my perspective. But I’ve learned that changing names is rather common in certain Indonesian ethnic groups. It’s important to Indonesians to have a name that completely fits—that isn’t too grand or too lowly—as it is believed to influence the fate of one’s life. If someone has a name that is too grand, that person could end up failing in life because they can never reach the potential of that name. If it’s too lowly, the name could hold them down.

So, now I just need to remember to call her son by his new name.

I look forward to spending more time with Wanda to better understand her life and her heart.

Being Included

“Hold the baby!” the women around me were urging.

I carefully picked up the 1-month-old infant from the decorated swing—the place of honor—to hold and coo and adore.

“Put the baby over here!” they said, pointing to a spot on the floor, before I’d been holding that baby for about 3 seconds.

I thought maybe they were urging me to put him down because Evan, my 17-month-old son had noticed that someone else was grabbing his mom’s attention. Evan had begun to climb on top of me. But then I noticed that the women called out to other guests at the party, urging them to pick up the baby from the floor, then put him directly into the swing. Then someone else would pick up the baby from the swing and put him on the floor. And on they’d go.

And in between each cycle, the baby’s grandmother took a candle and moved it around the swing, then threw yellow rice on the baby, then on the person who’d just held the baby.

Apparently, this ritual, in which I’d unknowingly participated, is just one part of a special celebration to commemorate the passing of one month of age for this Indonesian baby, and to ceremoniously put that newborn in a swing for the first time.



I’d gone to a similar celebration just two weeks ago—for the baby’s cousin. But I must have missed that part of the ceremony that time.

During that last celebration, the baby had had to share the spotlight with two other people—a female adult relative who was preparing to leave for her haj—her pilgrimage to Mecca, as required by her Muslim faith. The third part of the ceremony was to allow a 9-year-old girl to read the Koran in public, in Arabic. Apparently, she had just finished reading through the entire Koran, in Arabic (which uses a different alphabet than Indonesian or English) for the third time.

But she was shy and nervous, so while her family members lit all the appropriate candles and selected passages for her to read in front of the guests, she began crying and refused to read.



Attending these types of acara, as they are called in Indonesian, or events as we might say in English are some of the more interesting aspects of living in this diverse culture.

For instance, I learned that yellow is an important color for the ethnic group that had held the baby swing acara. And clearly candles and rice take important roles, too. Abundant food for guests always plays a part—one of the more fun parts for a guest like me. But a guest’s responsibility is to bring a small envelope with a monetary gift—large or small.

And of course, there is the occasional cultural misunderstanding, like when I thought I was being handed the baby to hold for as long as I desired. But apparently, the acara must go on.

Turning 32

I turned 32 last week, and two days before my birthday, a new Indonesian friend asked me how old I was. In my earlier days, certainly when I was a kid, I would’ve proudly said that I was almost another year older. But 32 didn’t seem like something to brag about, so I quickly told her I was 31, with no mention of the upcoming birthday.

Honestly, I don’t know where the last two years of age went. How did I get to be 30, much less 3 plus two whole years?

However, my wonderful husband, friends and family still decided to honor me for my birthday despite my advancing age. (smiley face)

First, my mom had the foresight to shop for my birthday presents in February and mail them to Indiana so we could put them in our crate that we built during our recent furlough. It was so nice to get nice gifts from the States. Other family members have said that more presents are in the mail. (Yeh!)

Then another MAF wife here baked me some yummy banana, chocolate chip bread and invited me to go to the monkey forest with our kids. Thanks, Heather! That night, all of us MAFers met for dinner and Bible study (always an enjoyment), and then they sang happy birthday to me afterwards.

My husband took Friday off (the day after my birthday) so that we could spend the day together, go on a hike (and have some really nice conversation along the way) and take me to dinner, while a sitter stayed home with Evan. I picked a new restaurant (well, not new, just one we hadn’t been to yet) that is a Padang restaurant. Padang, Indonesia is where the most recent earthquake was. So, we tried out Padangese food—very spicy, and made early in the morning and set out on plates for the rest of the day. We were a bit nervous about eating food that was sitting out all day (no refrigeration, no heat, etc.). So, we asked the guy about the possibility of it already being spoiled. He said that if the food was spoiled, he would gladly give us our money back. Good to know. But the atmosphere was nice, and the food was really tasty. And no, thank goodness, we didn’t get sick.

Then afterwards, my MAF friends threw me a birthday party at which they gave me encouraging notes that they had written. The party was Brad’s idea, as he knows I always enjoy time with my girlfriends. I appreciate a husband who thinks ahead! And my MAF friend Beth had the idea to email some of my friends in the States to see if they wanted to write me notes to give to me at the party. What a special gift!

I have continued to get text messages, emails, and Facebook posts from other friends, giving me birthday wishes.

So, all in all, thanks to many great people, I survived my 32nd birthday, and feel very thankful for my life, despite my old age. :)

One Crazy Week

It’s been one of those crazy weeks in which I’ve learned to not be surprised at anything anymore.

Here’s a rundown of some things that have happened.

-Smoky weather that gave Brad some stressful flying days, then caused him to have to stay interior one night. The smoke is caused by farmers in the jungle burning their fields to clear their lands, and it covers this entire region for weeks. In another parts of the region, the smoke is so bad that people can only see a few feet in front of them.

-An Indonesian military airplane that was flying right behind Brad in line to land in Tarakan crashed right after Brad landed. It reminded me to pray for my husband’s safety daily.

-An Indonesian friend of mine was disowned by her parents because of her faith. Her struggles this week have been heavy in my heart. I admire her greatly and am amazed at what she is giving up for her beliefs.

-An Indonesian man exposed himself to twice while I was on my morning run. The first time he did it after stopping to urinate on the side of the road in front of me, calling out to me to look at him. Then he got back on his motorcycle and followed me, then stopped and exposed himself to me again, calling out to me to look. I was thankful that others were around that second time, so he left me alone after that. I am very thankful nothing worse happened.

-I learned that a neighbor’s young child died of dengue fever last month, around the same time that my 1-year-old son had the sickness. Thankfully, my little boy is doing fine, but this neighbor’s news hit me hard.

-On a good note, our son, Evan, has really started walking all the time now. It’s amazing to see him learn this skill.

-I saw an Indonesian friend of mine who now lives on another island, but is visiting this one. She was good friends with another friend of ours who had died over a year ago in a motorcycle crash. This visiting friend hasn’t been here since that happened, and her visit has brought back those emotions of sadness in losing our friend.

-I hosted a meeting of Indonesian women in my home, but was so tired that I forgot many of my Indonesian words. I have no idea what I said or if anyone understood what I said. Thank goodness, they are kind, gracious women.

Throughout this week of being a bit overwhelmed by bad news, lots of activities, and not getting enough sleep for various reasons, I end the week being very thankful to God for His protection, faithfulness and goodness in my life.

Seeing how God works

Last week, Brad and I visited our friend, Eko, who is in jail due to a motorcycle accident in which his girlfriend, Yuli, was killed. Yuli was a good friend of mine. Eko and Yuli were hoping to get married until that Sunday over a year ago when Eko went around a parked taxi (in the middle of the road) and was hit by oncoming traffic. Yuli was thrown off the bike and hit by the car. Even though it doesn’t seem clear to us that Eko was to blame, someone had to take the fall.

Eko, a Muslim, has the biggest smile, even in the midst of this difficult situation. Despite the cramped jail conditions (a cell that is meant for four men houses 18 men—he said they have to sleep side-by-side to fit everyone in), Eko has decided to make the most of a bad situation. He spends his days teaching other inmates to read.

Eko has just one week left in jail, so he’ll be able to start a new life, albeit a bittersweet one, as he continues to deal with the loss of his girlfriend on the outside world.

Ever since Eko went to jail over a year ago, Brad and I have visited him, prayed for him, and shared his story with a friend of ours in the States. This friend faithfully prays for Eko daily. This friend recently offered to help Eko with a gift of clothes or money toward a motorcycle or whatever Eko may need to start his new life. When we told Eko the news last week, he was speechless. We explained that our friend (who lives in the States and has never met Eko) had been praying for Eko. But Eko just couldn’t grasp why someone who he didn’t know, and who lives on the other side of the world, would care enough to pray and to give him a gift. We told Eko that our friend loves God, and is a follower of Christ, and therefore cares for Eko, and wants Eko to get a fresh start.

Eko then told us a story about another prisoner at the jail, (one of the students he teaches to read) who has 20 years left on his sentence. While most of the other prisoners are angry and unhappy, this man, also a follower of Christ, is friendly and always seems to experience joy in his days. This man is a great encouragement to Eko.

I love to see how God is caring for and loving Eko by using His people in Eko’s life. I hope and pray that what started as a tragedy ends as a triumph.

When a child is sick...

On Monday, we found out our 1-year-old son, Evan has dengue fever. He had been sick for a few days with a fever, vomiting, diarrhea and a rash. Thankfully, since Monday, he has improved noticeably everyday. His only remaining symptoms are diarrhea and tiredness (he sleeps a lot!). We’ve continued to get his blood tested every other day. So far, the levels are still dropping, but they aren’t at a critically low level. And an American nurse told us that she thinks his levels are about to turn around for the better. It is certainly a good sign that his symptoms have improved so much. We are so thankful that we haven’t had to put him in the hospital. (I can’t imagine hooking up a 1-year-old to an IV!) He has continued to drink really well on his own, which helps his recovery.

Honestly, at this point, you’d hardly know he’s sick. He is back to his happy, friendly self. What a difference a few days (and many prayers) make!

A Time to Fast and Pray

As guests in a Muslim country, we have grown to love our Muslim friends and neighbors. This weekend, out of this love for them and our great respect for God, we are planning to pray and fast for Indonesia and our Muslim friends. We will also use this time to focus on looking for ways that God would use us to care for them.



We plan to fast from all food and all drinks, except water, from 6 p.m. Friday, Aug. 7 until 6 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 8. We’ve picked these dates in August in order that our Fast would fall before Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting, which begins Aug. 21.

If you are interested in joining us, let us know and we can give you some ideas about which to pray. You can comment on our site or email us at rhopkins@maf.org