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After a brief visit by the owner of Minahasa Lagoon I find myself committed for another few month aboard this venture. Clearly my help is needed here and I enjoy to be in a position where my input is of value. Within the last two weeks lots has changed in my life escalating to a new height when I find myself in one of the many unfinished churches of Sulawesi, a little town named Poh Poh. It all started when a few weeks back the residence gardener asked me in Indonesia if I would like to join the ceremony of his daughters baptism. Not really realizing the correct extend of his invitation it was a huge surprise when yesterday during breakfast I was informed that indeed everyone in Poh Poh was talking about my being Godfather, since apparently I am the first “bulleh” (white person) to accept this honor. So I went baby cloth shopping, for a two month old girl, diapers and powders, creams and soaps. On the way back to the Hotel yesterday a motorbike stopped us on the road and explained that I will be Godfather to yet another baby – I had to decline at this last moment, clearly impossible to attend two ceremonies. The one chore was still a puzzle, what was her name and age – although I had met the family before, I barely exchanged a word beyond “hello” with them. I also feel I will take my commitment very serious; I have never accepted this responsibility, but heck within I am now confronted with tons of questions in my already busy head; How will mom react to it, not just the fact I am Godfather to an Indonesia Girl, I’m sorry if this sounds racist to some, but I indeed grew up in a family where “crossing the line” like this is cause to discussions! Meysi, the girl and Reynold is four years old (I kinda have to be fair to the both kids), have a very different upbringing and my mom might want to get involved beyond just me having a “vacation moment”… Am I really responsible should something happened to the parents?

Certainly glad everything went so fast. I got up at 6AM, waited at Kerri’s house for everyone else to get up, and we arrived around 9AM at the backdoor of the half finished church where local authority personnel asked us for a “donation”. A few prayers later I was escorted into the pews of the main church whilst a synthesizer blurred from oversized speakers across the completely tiled room. Dogs laid groggy in the morning heat and polyester dominated the choice of textile from the skirting of the altar to the skirts of the visitors. The place was packed. Seven children to be baptized. Five little girls with those Mickey mouse shoes that squeak every time they took a step crawled around the benches. I could not understand a word that female priest said, kinda hummed along when the songs shattered through the room and enjoyed the many times we had to get up, sit down, get up – anything to not doze off. The priest was in a white slight see-through church gown, pardon, but the flowered underwear was clearly visual. Was I the only one fascinated about this? A pair of twins sang American gospels, they had a nice falsetto and I imagined American Idol would get them aboard. I should have drank some water before attending a three hour ordeal. Somewhere towards the end all folk looked at me and clapped their hand, it was only at lunch that I was explained I had somehow purchased ten kilo of rice for Rp 300’000. (US $ 30) that’s half a month salary in this area. Possibly I have reserved myself a place in Heaven over Indonesia.
Now that I have my Dive Master I am flirting with the idea to become an Instructor. Frankly I am postponing going back to the real world, Los Angeles and diving back into work as I am used to it. I’m a bit in the air about my future, its not a bad feeling at all. Maybe Four Seasons knocks on my door, they surely could use a good teacher to build up their Spa Hotels. In the end I have learned not to fixate my mind too much on what is coming next, leaving myself the chance to be approachable and enjoying the spooks of life as they come. It’s a pretty darn good journey so far.


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