Lots of banners happen at my school. A new one pops up in unexpected corners, like mold on your favorite t-shirt, pair of jelly shoes, or shoulder bag. This one has been up for a while and greets you in the court yard:
We recently completed our gym. The Bupati (boo-PAH-tee) aka the Regent of Ponorogo speechified at the grand-opening and cut a ribbon. It caused quite a stir when he came off the stage and sort of approached me but not really. It was rather awkward -- I couldn't read his body language (Are you coming over or are you not? Am I supposed to stand up and walk over to you or not?). I sort of got up and sort of ambled over, but not really, and he sort of walked over to me, but not really, so for a goodly while we were suspended in this long, awkward "are you coming or going" moment. The photographers and his security guards were similarly confused. I broke the spell by just sticking out my hand to him in greeting. This historic handshake birthed and cemented the myth that the Bupati and I are Besties Forever. Students then provided Reog-tertainment while we ate. There were snack boxes AND a complete lunch buffet, YEAH!
Soon thereafter, we hosted a Tae Kwon Do belt testing event for all the Tae Kwon Do extracurricular clubs in and around Ponorogo. I was really really happy to see a lot of girls take part.
I shed a little tear, remembering my days as a Red Belt in high school, training three times a week at Mt. Kim Dojo. And now I'm in Indonesia as a Peace Corps Volunteer, staring 12 months in-country in the eye. Bonkers.
But my favorite activity recently was coaching kids for a debate competition in the big city of Madiun. We only had two days to train, and none of the kids had ever done debate before, never mind debate under the Australian competition rules and entirely in English! I was so, so proud of them: They all worked like crazy during those two days, the team spirit was incredible, and one of our teams survived the preliminary elimination rounds to qualify for the quarterfinals the next day.
Out of fifteen schools, we definitely had the loudest yell: 1-2-3, MAN DUA!
