Number One Son has been given a great honor and great responsibility. He was told Saturday that he’d be leaving Monday morning to take an important customer to a huge tourist destination in Asia to show him the sights as his guide and translator. They have flight and hotel reservations, but Number One will be responsible for all meals, engaging drivers and guides, arranging for travel to a far away must-see place and more, since the customer doesn’t know a word in the local language. It’s a huge responsibility for a kid his age. Please pray that Number One Son would have wisdom and discretion: that he would respresent the company well and show the customer an enjoyable time, that he would have discernment to choose honest, safe drivers and guides, that they would both be kept safe and that he would represent our Lord well. He’s really getting thrown in the deep end this summer!
Number One Son reports:
I changed some money this morning–a lot of trouble, wish I had just used my ATM card–and then went to the markets. Spent a good bit–but this is my next-to-last weekend over here, figured it was worth it. I went to the expat church at 4, then got a new camera battery and supper in my neighborhood. I was planning to do a lot more, but I ran out of my money (in local money, that is) and my taxi card was getting dangerously low, so I figured the Lord must not want me on the streets tonight, so I came home and have been packing
I felt bad not staying out late tonight, but first I was low on money, so I went to find a bank, but the bank was closed. And the hotel told me they didn’t offer that service, even though they had an electronic exchage board on the wall! And I thought, well, at least I can go back to the mall and get some ice cream with my prepaid card I had. But I found I had left that at home. And I thought, well, I can at least go down to the [famous site] and get some photos at night. But then I realized that my taxi card had a reserved deposit on it, and so I couldn’t just spend it out. So I thought–maybe the Lord just doesn’t want me out tonight–no other clear reason why I can’t seem to be able to spend anything, even though I have access to tons of money. But that’s OK.
I went to some of the fake markets today–had a pretty good time. I got (don’t tell her) my little sister a second string of pearls (cultured of course, but still pearls), this one pink. And I bought myself another sword–a really interesting curved Japanese-style sword made of steel and black ABS plastic. And a brass abacus keychain for my backpack or something. Not junk, interesting stuff. I actually spent about $100 today–but it was worth it–I didn’t spend it on junk (besides, it was mine and Honorable Uncle doesn’t even know about it). [N.B. Honorable Uncle has a horror of buying junk, defined as anything not made by a worldclass company.]
I really loved shopping for the pearls–you ought to see the way they sell them here. Nothing fancy. I went to this market that was mostly 4- and 6-feet deep shops with roll-up doors. And found a place where a husband-and-wife team had a shop with folding tables in front of their slot under big umbrellas. They just lay out these huge bunches of pearls on the table–they’re all about 10" strings, with the ends of the strings woven together. Three rows of these bunches, size by size, with about 8 different choices in each row–pink, dark (black), white, an off-white golden cream, etc. Actually the rows are price comparisons–i.e. you have nicer more regular small ones and larger imperfect ones in each row. And then when I picked out the string–they pulled that string out of the weave and laid it in a lined box. Then the lady unstrung them and restrung them individually on a new string with a clasp. Even at wholesale cultured prices, there had to be several hundred dollars of pearls spread across the table. You want to look at them–they hand you the rope. It was really interesting–I think I enjoyed it more than if I had been buying it out of satin-lined cases in a jewelry store. I did take a couple pictures–don’t know how they turned out.
I got a second battery for my camera tonight–a drop-in replacement for about $14. You never really know what you’re buying, and it’s an inordinate amount of fun. Now I need to buy some jade and tea. That’s next weekend, I guess.
Honorable Mother then suggested he ask Honorable Aunt about jade – it’s extremely hard to tell what you have got in jade. Number One Son replied: Well–Honorable Uncles’s answer would either be buy it at Cartier’s or you can’t buy it at all. Sometimes I don’t mind getting the inferior grade, though, if that’s all I can get–I couldn’t afford natural, wild-caught pearls. I was gonna try to get down to [the market] again today and try to buy a cross like the one I broke. But I don’t want to show it to Honorable Uncle, as then he’d ask how much I paid for it–and while I don’t think I overpaid too badly, at least at US prices, he would–nothing exists for him without a certificate of authenticity. I sort of feel that I’m better off buying what I want with my money and no questions asked. Not like I’m planning to invest in world-class jade. I just want a couple of decent curios
Pray for me–and continue to pray after I get back from this trip. Some days I feel like I’ve done great and seen a lot this summer, other days I feel I haven’t made what I should have of this opportunity. I guess it’s somewhere in between–and thinking about it–I guess perhaps my worry is in whether I lived up to my own expectations–the Lord will make what he wants to out of it. I’ll just be worrying a lot in this last week or two. I don’t want to ruin what time I have left. I mean, I’m worrying tonight about whether I made the right choice turning back and coming home–I know I’ve made plenty of not-great choices and wasted plenty of time, but on the other hand I’ve seen and done (and especially experienced) a lot. I keep reminding myself that I’m living on my own for the first time, working a full-time high-pressure job.
Honorable Mother reminded him that, "I seriously doubt this is your last time in [that country]. We are in business with them now. We may all be travelling many times there."
Number One Son answered: I hope and pray so. Funny thing is how things change. At one point not too long ago I agonized over the possibility of the Lord sometime calling me to live over here in the Kingdom work. Now that doesn’t scare me nearly as much–I would almost welcome it for itself. Not saying I don’t miss home–just I’ve come to love here too. Well, goodnight!
Number One Son had been telling his Honorable Uncle for a while that he needed a haircut and asking him where to go. Well, when the decision to send him on the trip with the customer was made, the haircut gained priority! So…
Honorable Aunt and Honorable Uncle decided to take him to the Japanese Spa where they have their haircut. Honorable Uncle told Honorable Aunt, "Now make sure they don’t make him look fifty years old! Make them give him a young haircut. Now, he doesn’t have to look 17, tell them to make him look, say, 22." Aunt says, "Something stylish.’ Uncle says, "Yes, [son] you’ll have plenty of time to look conservative when you get a job, enjoy the freedom of being a student." Number One Son starts to get concerned. "I think he needs some blonde highlights around his face," says Aunt. Uncle retorts, "Maybe just go blonde entirely." Number One Son is getting alarmed now. Aunt suggests, "Blue highlights are very popular now." Number One Son is getting very alarmed indeed. "No, purple would be better," she says.
At this point they pull up to the Japanese Spa and go in. Lo and behold all the male hairdressers have these, um, pompadors. Number One Son, you have to understand, is Mr. Conservative. He starts looking for exits. Honorable Aunt smiles a kind of disquieting smile and unleashes a flood of language on the attendant. Honorable Son wonders what he will do if they bring out the hair dye – deck him and run? He watches carefully through the whole ordeal – what are they doing??? Will he have to shave his head in Detroit on the way home? Bald is infinitely preferable to purple in our church.
Unable to bear the suspense, Honorable Mother jumps in, "But how would you have known if it was dye – you probably couldn’t read the package??" "Oh no! I didn’t think about that! But, it’s okay, mom, it’s a little unusual, but not too un-Western looking. It’s not purple! Or highlights – horrors!"
We haven’t shared too much on the blog lately, because we’ve been traveling with limited internet access. I wanted to give you an update, though.
Number One Son got an unpleasant surprise last night when his uncle took him to a restaurant known for its focus on the looks of its waitresses. When Number One Son realized where they were, he decided he just wouldn’t look at the waitresses. Their waitress ragged him unmercifully for not looking at her. Number One thought, "Two can play that game." He said he decided to just do like his two-year-old sister does when she’s mad at him: "I just pretended she didn’t exist. Just utterly refused to acknowledge her existence at all. It was pretty funny." Guess they’d never met anyone who was a manly man and yet had made a covenant with his eyes.