Saturday night, 1 hour flight, another 10 hour flight, swollen puffy feet, mop of hair on my head. Instant humidity penetrating every fiber of my jeans. 1 hour to grab food. 1 hour long bus ride. 40 minute wait at the train station. 15 minute subway ride. Missed the last bus. 15 minute subway ride. One night sleeping on the floor of the train station. 15 minute subway ride. 8 hour bus ride. 5 minute walk. It’s Monday afternoon.
Welcome to Malaysia.
We change into shorts, and the coolest t-shirts we can find. Head back to the bus station to grab quick food. There’s about 25 little kitchens tucked neatly away into the walls of the bus station, most are closed, some open. All of them have menus we can’t read, all of them serve rice.
I don’t know how we decided on the one with the bright green plastic tablecloths, but all I heard is “She’s got chicken and rice or chicken and noodles.” She speaks in slightly broken English.
“You want spicy? No spicy?”
All the women wear hijabs and are covered from head to foot. I sit before her drenched in sweat, trying to explain that I want the least spicy meal she’s got. I wonder as she cooks how she can stand the heat under all the clothes.
She brings out fried rice and chicken. It’s spicy. She sits next to us and asks through her accent:
– Where you from?
– United States.
-Ohh, all the same?
– No, Flordia, Chicago, Texas, Georgia
– Wow, how old are you?
– We all state our ages.
– Wow you so lucky. Here is not like that. You cannot travel. You finish school, you get married you have kids. You so lucky, you so young and you see the world. What your names?
– We all state our names, she practices their pronunciation. She says each one of our names as we pay and she hands us our change. What is yours?
YaYa
And she laughs.
She laughs without hesitation, a booming echoing laugh that fills the space around you. Like a waterfall her laughs spill over into the pools of our ears, rivers of laughter begin flowing from our mouths, as we laugh with her.
It replenishes our souls.
We leave to meet Pastor Chan back at the church to find out what our ministry looks like this week. We are in 3 cities this month, we move every week. As we walk away the Lord whispers:
“She is your sister and I have plans for her”.
I make a point to eat there a few more times. Every time hoping to get to know her better, to share through actions and kindness the words I cannot speak. Our church works with the Chinese. The government doesn’t care about our ministry with the Chinese. But legally, in this part of Malaysia to be Malay is to be Muslim. It’s a tricky balance and I lean on the Lord’s wisdom.
“You so lucky, in the United States, you have dollar. Dollar is worth 4 ringgit. For us it’s so expensive to travel, to leave.”
It becomes epically clear. In God We Trust. The Lord gave me a stack of dollar bills in Budapest for a reason. My teammate and I grab a dollar bill.
“Thank you for being our Malaysian mom and for feeding us. We love you!”
It’s incomplete. Her laughter rings in my head.
YaYa is not just clothed from head to toe in this sweltering heat. She is clothed in strength and dignity. And she laughs without fear of the future.
We write it.
We go up to her at her restaurant.
“No, no, sorry too late, finished so sorry.”
“We’re not here for food, we have a present for you!”
“For me?”
“Yes close your eyes.”
I place the dollar bill in her hand and tell her to open her eyes.
She laughs. She reads it. She laughs. She reads the verse.
“We wrote this phrase because it reminds us of your wonderful laughter YaYa.”
She thanks us, pulls a single ringgit out of her register grabs a pen and writes:
We say goodbye and that is the last time I see her. Off to a new week, a new ministry 3 hours north. I have planted a seed, and must now trust that the Lord will grow it. But she remains always in my prayers as YaYa, my beloved sister.
A big shout out to all my blog readers and supporters. Just a heads up, I am only 1,700 dollars from being fully fundraised for my deadline on November 30th. Feel free to share this blog post or my blog, or to make a donation through the blog page:-)
