"It looks like they have already started," says Mike as we walk into the foyer. "Are you sure it started at five o' clock?"
"Five is what my friend told me," I say as I think to myself, Are we experiencing "rubber time"
"Should we go in?" Our courage is starting to fade.
"We came all this way, let's sneak in the back."
Of coarse it will be virtually impossible to "sneak in" without being spotted, seeing that we are visiting an Indonesian church in Portland and we will be the only non-Indonesians in the room. We work up our nerve, walk through the door, and sit in the 2nd to last row in the sanctuary. We get a few glances and smiles sent our way by others as we enjoy the last few minutes of the service. During the service the prayers were said in both English and Bahasa Indonesian and we also (tried) to sing along to an Indonesian song. It was pretty exciting.
By the way we were not experiencing "rubber time" ( jam karet is a term used to describe Indonesian's attitude towards the concept of time). We were just late, an hour late to be exact. So much for not drawing attention to ourselves.
After the service our family was greeted right away and we were asked why we had decided to visit an Indonesian church. We told them that we were moving to Indonesia to work with MAF and we wanted to learn more about Indonesia. We were met with excitement and were asked if we spoke Bahasa Indonesian. We said, "Not yet." After assuring us that Bahasa Indonesian is very easy to learn they started to teach us some phrases right away. Our family was then invited downstairs to eat some Indonesian food with them (which was awesome by the way).
The pastor asked Mike if we could come back and share with everybody our story and what we will be doing in Indonesia. Mike asked, "How long do you want us to share? 5 minutes? 10 minutes?"
"The WHOLE service, we want to hear from you."
We were sent home with a plate full of Indonesian leftovers, how often can you say that you visited a chuch and got sent home with food? Not very often.
