i've learned this much so far: there are no "time-outs" in life. you don't get a break. you get seasons, rises and falls and ebbs and flows. but you don't get to check out. not ever. you can coast, sure, maybe through easy classes or saturday mornings or routines that become second-nature. but there is no stop button.
i think i wanted south korea to be a sort of halt for me. a break. a year to get my act together. figure out what i really want to do. kick back and travel. i was wrong. life keeps happening... fluttering, all around me. hearts racing and stopping. spirits soaring and being crushed. lists and tasks and chores and burdens.
so now, i know what i've got to do. i will gather all of this madness in my arms. i will scoop up as much as i can in these 2 arms, and i will breathe in the sweet and moldy scent of seasons changing, dying, fading. i will breathe it in and search for the hints of ginger and dew. i will hold it in my lungs for this one moment. this very moment.
and then i will fling it all as far, far, far away from me as i possibly can.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
like a first date
my understanding of the world has expanded in this place. my compassion, my patience, my humility and my grace tested and pressed into new shapes and sizes. walking home through puddles and slick yellow ginkgo leaves strewn about uneven sidewalks, even 3 months in, nothing is quite familiar.
all the constant change, the newness and uncertainty, allows me to appreciate my husband in new ways, and last night was no exception. it was a dreary, rain-soaked evening, so we stayed in and made spaghetti. after dinner, with no real plans and nothing to do, we lingered at the table and talked about family, about past memories and favorite stories. we laughed as we recalled some of the music we used to listen to, so i got out my ipod and scrolled through to find songs almost forgotten, lost at the bottom, beneath stacks of new songs and artists. we plugged in speakers and laughed as we nodded our heads in rhythm, old memories and concerts stirring to life behind our eyes.
like teenagers we talked together, looking up the latest on old bands, googling their tourdates and press photos, wondering what they were up to these days, all the while listening to music, our music, to pass the quiet damp night.
and so, i am thankful for all the ways that david is familiar to me. the stories and the life we share is a comfort and a calm. and yet, in that old, well known space of our friendship, we still manage to have so much newness everyday. we create new jokes, find new movies and songs and books to love, and learn new things about each other all the time.
when i was young, i worried that if i ever married, i might run out of conversation. i used to think that at some point, all the words will have been said, all the affections expressed, and then marriage would become boring, mundane, and maybe even a trap.
i am thankful that (while i am no expert) this doesn't seem to be the case. nights like last night feel like first dates all over again, and there is always more to know, more to say. i suppose that's why we ought to marry our best friends; if they're already your favorite person to hang out with, then it's like you get a neverending slumber party to fill with laughter and antics and eating in bed. sounds like a pretty good deal to me.
all the constant change, the newness and uncertainty, allows me to appreciate my husband in new ways, and last night was no exception. it was a dreary, rain-soaked evening, so we stayed in and made spaghetti. after dinner, with no real plans and nothing to do, we lingered at the table and talked about family, about past memories and favorite stories. we laughed as we recalled some of the music we used to listen to, so i got out my ipod and scrolled through to find songs almost forgotten, lost at the bottom, beneath stacks of new songs and artists. we plugged in speakers and laughed as we nodded our heads in rhythm, old memories and concerts stirring to life behind our eyes.
like teenagers we talked together, looking up the latest on old bands, googling their tourdates and press photos, wondering what they were up to these days, all the while listening to music, our music, to pass the quiet damp night.
and so, i am thankful for all the ways that david is familiar to me. the stories and the life we share is a comfort and a calm. and yet, in that old, well known space of our friendship, we still manage to have so much newness everyday. we create new jokes, find new movies and songs and books to love, and learn new things about each other all the time.
when i was young, i worried that if i ever married, i might run out of conversation. i used to think that at some point, all the words will have been said, all the affections expressed, and then marriage would become boring, mundane, and maybe even a trap.
i am thankful that (while i am no expert) this doesn't seem to be the case. nights like last night feel like first dates all over again, and there is always more to know, more to say. i suppose that's why we ought to marry our best friends; if they're already your favorite person to hang out with, then it's like you get a neverending slumber party to fill with laughter and antics and eating in bed. sounds like a pretty good deal to me.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
lost the plot
people often liken south korea to the 50s in america. since they're just now coming into a relatively prosperous time for their country, i often see all the ways this is true. the squeaky-clean pop music complete with dancing and matching outfits. the crisp, newness of buildings and shops. the booming amusement park industry. the way the family unit still operates under classic stereotypes. the modest clothing. the wholesome cheesiness of it all. even the air raid practices. it's all straight out of a movie.
but with all this paused-in-time goodness comes inevitable downsides. and the biggest one i see is the racism. it's startling. it's appalling. and it's usually directed at me.
this morning, i walked to work like i always do. i got the usual stares, occasional kids yelling heavily accented "HELLO"s, and some glares. i keep my head down when i walk. it's easier. but along with the usual mix of attention, i got one woman standing at the bus stop, who actually, purposely stepped into my path, forcing me to stumble around her as she said, incredibly loudly "ANNN-YONG HASS-E-YO." (hello, how are you, in korean) it wasn't kind. it wasn't even really a question. it was actually said a lot like my rude students say it, in a mocking, affected manner, mimicing my accent. she waited for me to say it back with one expectant hand on her hip, which on knee-jerk reaction i did, even mustering a small bow before going on my way. after a few steps, the entire bus stop burst into laughs at whatever she said after she let me pass.
and, yes, it's a small interaction. but it was odd and upsetting, and here is why: think of america. if an indian person, or an israeli or somalian was walking down a strange steet in an american town and someone stopped them in their tracks and said to them a highly sarcastic-sounding "HELLO. HOW ARE YOU" in a mocking attempt at their native accent, it would be rude. it would be more than that: it would be inappropriate and offensive. even if there are some jerks who might still stoop to such a level in america, i like the think the entire bus stop wouldn't bust up laughing at the scene after the fact.
i know this isn't how all koreans act. i've been fortunate enough to meet dozens of kind people here. but when you are so far from home, so far from everything familiar, then even the tiniest gestures and interactions can become laden with meaning, association, and even overall well-being. nothing can be taken with a grain of salt.
but with all this paused-in-time goodness comes inevitable downsides. and the biggest one i see is the racism. it's startling. it's appalling. and it's usually directed at me.
this morning, i walked to work like i always do. i got the usual stares, occasional kids yelling heavily accented "HELLO"s, and some glares. i keep my head down when i walk. it's easier. but along with the usual mix of attention, i got one woman standing at the bus stop, who actually, purposely stepped into my path, forcing me to stumble around her as she said, incredibly loudly "ANNN-YONG HASS-E-YO." (hello, how are you, in korean) it wasn't kind. it wasn't even really a question. it was actually said a lot like my rude students say it, in a mocking, affected manner, mimicing my accent. she waited for me to say it back with one expectant hand on her hip, which on knee-jerk reaction i did, even mustering a small bow before going on my way. after a few steps, the entire bus stop burst into laughs at whatever she said after she let me pass.
and, yes, it's a small interaction. but it was odd and upsetting, and here is why: think of america. if an indian person, or an israeli or somalian was walking down a strange steet in an american town and someone stopped them in their tracks and said to them a highly sarcastic-sounding "HELLO. HOW ARE YOU" in a mocking attempt at their native accent, it would be rude. it would be more than that: it would be inappropriate and offensive. even if there are some jerks who might still stoop to such a level in america, i like the think the entire bus stop wouldn't bust up laughing at the scene after the fact.
i know this isn't how all koreans act. i've been fortunate enough to meet dozens of kind people here. but when you are so far from home, so far from everything familiar, then even the tiniest gestures and interactions can become laden with meaning, association, and even overall well-being. nothing can be taken with a grain of salt.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
a tourist
autumn brings with it the hunger pains of home, so far away.
autumn in iowa is hard to explain, but everything explodes in an exclamation mark of color: the end of a sentence - the shouts of summer. autumn in iowa stretches out the sky, lets the colors bleed longer, slants the sunsets into kalidescopes and patches and rays of light. autumn in korea is gnawing familiarity, with some yellows and reds spotting the landscape, but the sky is snuffed out by apartment buildings, and the trees are scrawny and dwarfed by powerlines.
i have been sick with a relentless cough. in the night i sit straight up in bed, while jagged fingernails of hot air claw across the back of my throat. my ribcage seizes, my lungs rattle. i scrunch my eyes shut tightly and wait. and wait. and wait. for the waves to cease crashing inside my body. for sleep to come.
and in that canyon of lost time, i miss home. i miss familiarity and vanilla-scented candles and childhood. i miss how my mom would walk up from the basement, carrying the cardboard box labeled "october" in black permanant marker and how pumpkins and scarecrows would flood every nook and shelf. i miss my cousin's marching band performances on a cold friday night. i miss carving pumpkins with friends. i miss warm zuchinni soup at my aunt and uncle's house. i miss my grandfather as he sports his first pair of tennis shoes, and as his body heals from a close call. in the hunched-over nighttime, i allow myself to feel these things. my defenses are down.
by the first shards of light elbowing through the mountains and into our windows, i accept another morning in korea. i prepare for another full day of teaching, of language classes and new friendships. i walk into an autumn that is not my own, but i will do my best to soak it up. this alternate universe that i live in has a strange beauty, but i hesitate to say "i'm home."
Thursday, October 20, 2011
welcome to the monkey show
you know those days where all you want to do is crawl back under the covers and give up?
today was one of those days.
first, let me give you a little behind-the-scenes peek at what i was up against today.
for the last month or so, my korean co-teacher and i have been feverishly preparing for our "Open Class." this 40-minute class is comprable to getting observed by the principal while teaching in the states... but 10 times more stressful because people who equate to the level of the superintendent, principal, and vice principal are all in attendance, plus a smattering of other teachers/adults who feel like watching you squirm. being foreign and having most of the cultural nuances lost on me, i still understood this "Open Class" was a big, seriously serious deal (such a major deal that i am capitalizing it here in my blog).
my poor co-teacher edited and re-edited the lesson plan daily. she arranged for us to teach in front of the absolute best-behaved fourth-grade class in the school. she had us run weekly practices of our updated lesson plans in front of these compliant fourth graders. i was a little miffed by the fact that i didn't get to contribute to any of the creative processes behind our lesson plan - she did it all and expected me to "just memory the script" word-for-word. no deviations. but i figured, fine. i'll be the well-behaved native teacher and do as i'm told.
this way of thinking became more difficult as our day of reckoning approached.
yesterday, my co-teacher arrived, exhuberant, to our last "Open Class" practice. she had rented out a costume for me to wear on the day of our presentation. she pulled out a glitter-covered top hat and a sequined tuxedo jacket, complete with coat tails dangling down to the backs of my knees. she then told me that i will wear this outfit while doing a magic trick in front of the class.
ok... fine.
but that's not all.
i was to wear this outfit for the entire duration of our lesson.
i was also to hide somewhere in the classroom at the start of the class, and wait for students to call my name.
then, i would pop out of hiding like a jack-in-the-box, and proceed to wow them with my magic trick and shiny getup.
i was also to wear black for the Open Class, because it would look best with my costume.
are you kidding me?!?!
there is a stereotype over here in south korea, that when a native English-speaking teacher comes along, he/she isn't a "real" teacher. he/she is just here to play games and goof off with the kids. we babble our strange, inconsistent little language with exaggerated motions, and act like puppets for the "actual" teachers: the korean ones. recalling a term that we used often at camp, i'd say us English teachers are the monkey-show.
there's only one problem. i don't want to be the monkey show. i'm not at camp anymore. i'm a university educated teacher. i'm not a genius, but i know my stuff. and when i looked through our Open Class lesson plan, i saw all sorts of problems, inconsistencies, and mistakes, but i let it go because i trusted that my teacher knew what she was doing. but this? this outfit, this hiding, this magic trick? this all put me majorly over the edge. i felt insulted.
and yet, come tuesday AM, where could you find me?
hiding behind a bookcase in a magician's costume, waiting for my cue to hop out and do a magic trick.
on this morning, the day of the Open Class, i woke up in a miserable mood, with my right eye swollen from mosquito bites that happened in the night (as said in a previous post, i have a freakish reaction to these bites and i felt like i resembled quasimoto or at least one of the mole people on this particular morning). on my walk to school, my new black tights developed a noticable run in the knee. i knew, then and there, that today was not going to be good.
so why did i go through with it? why did i put on the outfit and play into the stereotypes i so despise?
because i'm trying to get over myself. i'm trying to quit being so prideful, and go with the flow. my american-raised mind keeps telling me i know a better way to do things, and maybe sometimes i do, but i'm a guest in this country. i was invited here to teach, to instruct, but also to learn. i don't understand their customs or culture in the LEAST, and so i need to continue to take the humble posture of observer, learner, and associate while i'm here. i need to respect that my coteacher has taught in this system, in this country, for years, and she will continue to do so well after i leave. she understands the culture of the korean school system better than i ever will.
it wasn't easy, but i swallowed back my pride, and jumped out behind that bookcase with all the enthusaism i could muster.
in the end, part of my motivation for going through with the "monkey-show" routine also came from my years at camp:
you do it for the kids.
for their smiling faces and shy giggles and wide-eyed surprise. for their rapt attention, for making learning fun (these poor kids see no end to the hours upon hours of classrooms, of public and private school, of private tutoring, of homework, & so the break of even a hokey magic show is welcome relief in their eyes), for their questions in korean and their murmur of delight at the end of the trick.
in the end, our "Open Class" went okay. i couldn't really interpet the response of the smooth-talking, pompous Office of Education guy (who's hand i accidentally shook in my nervousness, oops!), but at least our friendly VP gave us the thumbs-up and repeatedly said "excellent" so i'll take that as a good sign. and maybe the best part, as my coteacher said, is that it's done. sigh. just another day in korea.
today was one of those days.
first, let me give you a little behind-the-scenes peek at what i was up against today.
for the last month or so, my korean co-teacher and i have been feverishly preparing for our "Open Class." this 40-minute class is comprable to getting observed by the principal while teaching in the states... but 10 times more stressful because people who equate to the level of the superintendent, principal, and vice principal are all in attendance, plus a smattering of other teachers/adults who feel like watching you squirm. being foreign and having most of the cultural nuances lost on me, i still understood this "Open Class" was a big, seriously serious deal (such a major deal that i am capitalizing it here in my blog).
my poor co-teacher edited and re-edited the lesson plan daily. she arranged for us to teach in front of the absolute best-behaved fourth-grade class in the school. she had us run weekly practices of our updated lesson plans in front of these compliant fourth graders. i was a little miffed by the fact that i didn't get to contribute to any of the creative processes behind our lesson plan - she did it all and expected me to "just memory the script" word-for-word. no deviations. but i figured, fine. i'll be the well-behaved native teacher and do as i'm told.
this way of thinking became more difficult as our day of reckoning approached.
yesterday, my co-teacher arrived, exhuberant, to our last "Open Class" practice. she had rented out a costume for me to wear on the day of our presentation. she pulled out a glitter-covered top hat and a sequined tuxedo jacket, complete with coat tails dangling down to the backs of my knees. she then told me that i will wear this outfit while doing a magic trick in front of the class.
ok... fine.
but that's not all.
i was to wear this outfit for the entire duration of our lesson.
i was also to hide somewhere in the classroom at the start of the class, and wait for students to call my name.
then, i would pop out of hiding like a jack-in-the-box, and proceed to wow them with my magic trick and shiny getup.
i was also to wear black for the Open Class, because it would look best with my costume.
are you kidding me?!?!
there is a stereotype over here in south korea, that when a native English-speaking teacher comes along, he/she isn't a "real" teacher. he/she is just here to play games and goof off with the kids. we babble our strange, inconsistent little language with exaggerated motions, and act like puppets for the "actual" teachers: the korean ones. recalling a term that we used often at camp, i'd say us English teachers are the monkey-show.
there's only one problem. i don't want to be the monkey show. i'm not at camp anymore. i'm a university educated teacher. i'm not a genius, but i know my stuff. and when i looked through our Open Class lesson plan, i saw all sorts of problems, inconsistencies, and mistakes, but i let it go because i trusted that my teacher knew what she was doing. but this? this outfit, this hiding, this magic trick? this all put me majorly over the edge. i felt insulted.
and yet, come tuesday AM, where could you find me?
hiding behind a bookcase in a magician's costume, waiting for my cue to hop out and do a magic trick.
on this morning, the day of the Open Class, i woke up in a miserable mood, with my right eye swollen from mosquito bites that happened in the night (as said in a previous post, i have a freakish reaction to these bites and i felt like i resembled quasimoto or at least one of the mole people on this particular morning). on my walk to school, my new black tights developed a noticable run in the knee. i knew, then and there, that today was not going to be good.
so why did i go through with it? why did i put on the outfit and play into the stereotypes i so despise?
because i'm trying to get over myself. i'm trying to quit being so prideful, and go with the flow. my american-raised mind keeps telling me i know a better way to do things, and maybe sometimes i do, but i'm a guest in this country. i was invited here to teach, to instruct, but also to learn. i don't understand their customs or culture in the LEAST, and so i need to continue to take the humble posture of observer, learner, and associate while i'm here. i need to respect that my coteacher has taught in this system, in this country, for years, and she will continue to do so well after i leave. she understands the culture of the korean school system better than i ever will.
it wasn't easy, but i swallowed back my pride, and jumped out behind that bookcase with all the enthusaism i could muster.
in the end, part of my motivation for going through with the "monkey-show" routine also came from my years at camp:
you do it for the kids.
for their smiling faces and shy giggles and wide-eyed surprise. for their rapt attention, for making learning fun (these poor kids see no end to the hours upon hours of classrooms, of public and private school, of private tutoring, of homework, & so the break of even a hokey magic show is welcome relief in their eyes), for their questions in korean and their murmur of delight at the end of the trick.
in the end, our "Open Class" went okay. i couldn't really interpet the response of the smooth-talking, pompous Office of Education guy (who's hand i accidentally shook in my nervousness, oops!), but at least our friendly VP gave us the thumbs-up and repeatedly said "excellent" so i'll take that as a good sign. and maybe the best part, as my coteacher said, is that it's done. sigh. just another day in korea.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
bewilderness
sorry about the silence. these days, david and i have been trying to keep up a blog over at wordpress (http://www.davidandbreeann.wordpress.com/) to chronicle all the craziness that is korea. but i want to hang onto this blog too, because it's the quieter, more hidden one. it's the one i can vent on, and know that i won't hear about it later from my mom or grandma :)
all i have to write about korea so far are fragments. nothing is cohesive or seamless. yet. we are forever swimming, trying to keep afloat, searcing in vain for land. but out of such maddening chaos comes a strength that i wouldn't trade comfort for. this is a new reality, a new normal, a new way of life. this is already transforming us, forcing us into deeper humility, longer patience, heavier grace.
i can't easily explain all the various pieces of my life here. so, i think i'll try to make a list.
things i love:
1. that i am here with my fearless, hilarious, thoughtful husband. it's such a good feeling to know that i can come home to him each night. we seem to have an unwaivering security and happiness in our marriage, and that makes everything else in life so much sweeter. plus, in this new country, i've seen so many new aspects of his character - his leadership abilities have been so apparent in all these new situations. and he still cracks me up all the time.
2. our new hodge-podge collection of friends. i have never had such a wide variety of personalities to hang out with. we are a mismatched, odd group of foriegners, but we are banded together here in our shared experiences as teachers. we remind each other that we are not actually losing our minds, and it's good to be a part of a group.
3. the food. most is relatively healthy, and it's such fun to try new things. i've come to really enjoy rice cakes, sundubu jigae (a spicy, seafood & tofu soup), bulgogi, and i love love love all the korean grills. it doesn't hurt that eating out is crazy cheap as well.
4. the kids. there are some bad students, but there are so many sincere, naiive respectful kids as well. and the little ones in their purple or yellow framed glasses? they'll melt your heart.
5. the mountains. the greenery. just outside of our city there is so much natural beauty, it's such a welcome break from the flat farmland that makes up the midwest back home. there are rolling hills and mountains everywhere and once you get out of the city you realize how peaceful and traquil korea really is.
6. my daily walk to/from school. i may come to loathe this as the weather gets colder, but right now it is blissful, peaceful pefection. i see so much on my walks, and it also gives me a good 20 minutes there and back to process and digest everything around me. i learn the most about korea as i trudge through tiny markets and around old ladies pulling their rickshaws and collecting plastic bottles. it's like watching a painting come to life, daily.
7. downtown gwangju. this city is really cool. the downtown area has all these small streets jam-packed with boutiques, coffeeshops, restaurants, etc. most everything downtown is locally owned, and there is so much character from one place to the next. at night it is lit up so bright you feel like it's mid-afternoon. walking down here on a friday night makes you feel like you're actually a part of the city, and not an outsider looking in.
8. chonnam university backgate. our neighborhood. it is so awesome. it's lively and full of college kids and cheap eateries and well over 30 coffeeshops. our neighborhood has a maze of streets to explore and the school has a track that we can run/walk around near a big pond and some lovely greenery. we can see mudeung mountain out our window, along with endless skyscrapers. as we've seen where some of our friends live, we are so thankful to be an area that is right in the midst of it all.
9. the coffeeshops. there are more coffeeshops here than i have ever seen in my life. and each one takes great care to create incredible atmosphere. some have fake trees inside of them, others are lined with christmas lights and comfy couches with colorful pillows. the coffee may be expensive, but they're the perfect place to sit back and people-watch, lesson plan, or read a book.
10. the "newness." this encompasses all those quirky, uniquely korean details that i uncover on a daily basis. customs, traditions, clothing, music (k-pop, anyone), the way my teachers interact with each other, proper bus etiquette, and the list goes on. i am a learner here, trying to soak it all in. my understanding seems to broaden daily, and along with it i think i see more of the character of God - of His HUGEness, of His vast creativity and love and artistic display through a people group that i have never ineracted with before.
things that drive me crazy
1. not being able to communicate. at all. ever. i can't order food at a restaurant properly. i can't buy something properly. i can't ask where the bus station is or if i can get a room at a hotel. i feel like a mute, or a baby. this has been extremely humbling, and we've still managed to do a great deal within these limitations, but i'm ready to start figuring out korean. our language classes started a few days ago, so hopefully this will subside.
2. the mosquitoes. this is a frustration that might just be personal to me - for some reason, i seem to have a freakish allergic reaction to their bites. for me, it ends up feeling like a cross between poison ivy and a bee sting. the bites swell up like crazy, hurt like crazy, itch like crazy. and the mozzies seem to love to eat me all the more because of it. i wake up in the morning with swollen bites on my forehead, neck, cheek, arm, ankle, etc. i'm going to start bathing in bug spray. its miserable.
3. the haters. not sure what else to call this category. for some reason, some koreans don't like the foriegners coming into their country. this is one of the most closed-off, homogenus societies in the world, and a lot of them want to keep it that way. it's mostly older folks on my walk - i catch their eye and almost dissolve into a puddle of tears on the concrete because of their razor sharp glare. one lady even spit in front of me. today, actually, a little boy ran up to me and made the meanest, angriest face accompanied by a growl. i want to say to them "hey. wait a second. you don't know me! i'm actually a really nice person." but i can't say that (see frustration #1). so i usually just look startled, and then walk on.
4. missing. missing food. missing comforts. missing iowa in the fall. missing friends. missing family (distance magnifies). my grandpa had a little health scare recently, and it was the most helpless feeling in the world to be so far away. i wanted to drop everything and run home. i could barely teach. i can live with the missing the foods/comforts, but it's also hard seeing friends lives continue on without me there to be a part of the fun. i'm still very afraid that we'll come back home after all this time away, and we won't know where we fit in anymore. we won't have any core group of friends, like we did when we left. this is where i have to pray and trust. if we're called to be here now, then we'll stay, and leave all the rest of it in His hands.
5. being too big. being told that i'm too big/tall/long. trying to sit down at the cafeteria and bruising my knees on the incredibly low table. trying to sit down at my desk and jamming my knees again. leaning over, all the time. standing out, all the time. standing out for being blond. standing out for being massively tall. standing out for being western. this frustration is forcing me to grow. it's forcing me to be okay in my own skin. to embrace who i am, who God created me to be. it's forcing me to quit being so self-conscious and shy. it's forcing me to play volleyball. as much as i hate it sometimes, i know i need to grow up in this area. it's long overdue.
thats about it for the frustrations list. i don't want to force myself to think of negative things. overall, it's been a continued adventure. it's been crazy and overwhelming, but also beautiful and vivid. it really is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, something david and i will share until we're old and gray. i never wanted the road most travelled.
all i have to write about korea so far are fragments. nothing is cohesive or seamless. yet. we are forever swimming, trying to keep afloat, searcing in vain for land. but out of such maddening chaos comes a strength that i wouldn't trade comfort for. this is a new reality, a new normal, a new way of life. this is already transforming us, forcing us into deeper humility, longer patience, heavier grace.
i can't easily explain all the various pieces of my life here. so, i think i'll try to make a list.
things i love:
1. that i am here with my fearless, hilarious, thoughtful husband. it's such a good feeling to know that i can come home to him each night. we seem to have an unwaivering security and happiness in our marriage, and that makes everything else in life so much sweeter. plus, in this new country, i've seen so many new aspects of his character - his leadership abilities have been so apparent in all these new situations. and he still cracks me up all the time.
2. our new hodge-podge collection of friends. i have never had such a wide variety of personalities to hang out with. we are a mismatched, odd group of foriegners, but we are banded together here in our shared experiences as teachers. we remind each other that we are not actually losing our minds, and it's good to be a part of a group.
3. the food. most is relatively healthy, and it's such fun to try new things. i've come to really enjoy rice cakes, sundubu jigae (a spicy, seafood & tofu soup), bulgogi, and i love love love all the korean grills. it doesn't hurt that eating out is crazy cheap as well.
4. the kids. there are some bad students, but there are so many sincere, naiive respectful kids as well. and the little ones in their purple or yellow framed glasses? they'll melt your heart.
5. the mountains. the greenery. just outside of our city there is so much natural beauty, it's such a welcome break from the flat farmland that makes up the midwest back home. there are rolling hills and mountains everywhere and once you get out of the city you realize how peaceful and traquil korea really is.
6. my daily walk to/from school. i may come to loathe this as the weather gets colder, but right now it is blissful, peaceful pefection. i see so much on my walks, and it also gives me a good 20 minutes there and back to process and digest everything around me. i learn the most about korea as i trudge through tiny markets and around old ladies pulling their rickshaws and collecting plastic bottles. it's like watching a painting come to life, daily.
7. downtown gwangju. this city is really cool. the downtown area has all these small streets jam-packed with boutiques, coffeeshops, restaurants, etc. most everything downtown is locally owned, and there is so much character from one place to the next. at night it is lit up so bright you feel like it's mid-afternoon. walking down here on a friday night makes you feel like you're actually a part of the city, and not an outsider looking in.
8. chonnam university backgate. our neighborhood. it is so awesome. it's lively and full of college kids and cheap eateries and well over 30 coffeeshops. our neighborhood has a maze of streets to explore and the school has a track that we can run/walk around near a big pond and some lovely greenery. we can see mudeung mountain out our window, along with endless skyscrapers. as we've seen where some of our friends live, we are so thankful to be an area that is right in the midst of it all.
9. the coffeeshops. there are more coffeeshops here than i have ever seen in my life. and each one takes great care to create incredible atmosphere. some have fake trees inside of them, others are lined with christmas lights and comfy couches with colorful pillows. the coffee may be expensive, but they're the perfect place to sit back and people-watch, lesson plan, or read a book.
10. the "newness." this encompasses all those quirky, uniquely korean details that i uncover on a daily basis. customs, traditions, clothing, music (k-pop, anyone), the way my teachers interact with each other, proper bus etiquette, and the list goes on. i am a learner here, trying to soak it all in. my understanding seems to broaden daily, and along with it i think i see more of the character of God - of His HUGEness, of His vast creativity and love and artistic display through a people group that i have never ineracted with before.
things that drive me crazy
1. not being able to communicate. at all. ever. i can't order food at a restaurant properly. i can't buy something properly. i can't ask where the bus station is or if i can get a room at a hotel. i feel like a mute, or a baby. this has been extremely humbling, and we've still managed to do a great deal within these limitations, but i'm ready to start figuring out korean. our language classes started a few days ago, so hopefully this will subside.
2. the mosquitoes. this is a frustration that might just be personal to me - for some reason, i seem to have a freakish allergic reaction to their bites. for me, it ends up feeling like a cross between poison ivy and a bee sting. the bites swell up like crazy, hurt like crazy, itch like crazy. and the mozzies seem to love to eat me all the more because of it. i wake up in the morning with swollen bites on my forehead, neck, cheek, arm, ankle, etc. i'm going to start bathing in bug spray. its miserable.
3. the haters. not sure what else to call this category. for some reason, some koreans don't like the foriegners coming into their country. this is one of the most closed-off, homogenus societies in the world, and a lot of them want to keep it that way. it's mostly older folks on my walk - i catch their eye and almost dissolve into a puddle of tears on the concrete because of their razor sharp glare. one lady even spit in front of me. today, actually, a little boy ran up to me and made the meanest, angriest face accompanied by a growl. i want to say to them "hey. wait a second. you don't know me! i'm actually a really nice person." but i can't say that (see frustration #1). so i usually just look startled, and then walk on.
4. missing. missing food. missing comforts. missing iowa in the fall. missing friends. missing family (distance magnifies). my grandpa had a little health scare recently, and it was the most helpless feeling in the world to be so far away. i wanted to drop everything and run home. i could barely teach. i can live with the missing the foods/comforts, but it's also hard seeing friends lives continue on without me there to be a part of the fun. i'm still very afraid that we'll come back home after all this time away, and we won't know where we fit in anymore. we won't have any core group of friends, like we did when we left. this is where i have to pray and trust. if we're called to be here now, then we'll stay, and leave all the rest of it in His hands.
5. being too big. being told that i'm too big/tall/long. trying to sit down at the cafeteria and bruising my knees on the incredibly low table. trying to sit down at my desk and jamming my knees again. leaning over, all the time. standing out, all the time. standing out for being blond. standing out for being massively tall. standing out for being western. this frustration is forcing me to grow. it's forcing me to be okay in my own skin. to embrace who i am, who God created me to be. it's forcing me to quit being so self-conscious and shy. it's forcing me to play volleyball. as much as i hate it sometimes, i know i need to grow up in this area. it's long overdue.
thats about it for the frustrations list. i don't want to force myself to think of negative things. overall, it's been a continued adventure. it's been crazy and overwhelming, but also beautiful and vivid. it really is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, something david and i will share until we're old and gray. i never wanted the road most travelled.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
blurs
and just like that, our orientation is done. tomorrow, we get on buses and go to our cities. we meet our co-teachers, see our apartments (FINALLY), and visit our schools. here is where the rubber hits the road, and i am so ready. i am excited to get out there and experience korea. to start living my life here and to start teaching. the orientation has been awesome and necessary, but there's still so much unknown, and the only way to get answers is to start trying.
tonight was our closing ceremony. EPIK brought in the most massively long buffet that i have ever seen in my life. there was so much delicious food. then, there was a talent show (our class sang "Stand by Me" in 3 different languages) full of dancing and goofing off. afterwards, a handful of us went out to a seedy little bar full of paper lanterns and ordered pitchers of kiwi soju. sitting around chatting and laughing, i started to feel really comfortable. looking around the table at all the fascinating new personalities, i felt like the potential for adventures and friendships to develop and grow in gwangju is great, and i'm looking forward to how it all will pan out. off to sleep now, big day tomorrow!
tonight was our closing ceremony. EPIK brought in the most massively long buffet that i have ever seen in my life. there was so much delicious food. then, there was a talent show (our class sang "Stand by Me" in 3 different languages) full of dancing and goofing off. afterwards, a handful of us went out to a seedy little bar full of paper lanterns and ordered pitchers of kiwi soju. sitting around chatting and laughing, i started to feel really comfortable. looking around the table at all the fascinating new personalities, i felt like the potential for adventures and friendships to develop and grow in gwangju is great, and i'm looking forward to how it all will pan out. off to sleep now, big day tomorrow!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
mountains beyond mountains
and there's no end in sight.
south korea is beautiful. a rippled, wrinkled landscape full of hills, and mountains traced by snakes of low-lying clouds. it has been lush and wet and green. we're living on jeonju university's campus, which is huge and modern. we walk to class, we eat in the cafeteria, and we sleep back in the dorms. we sit through long lectures and have homework. we're literally "back to college" for a week, which i suppose some people would wish for, but i find myself feeling a little old. most of the young teachers here seem to want to recreate just that: the endless party that some immortalize college to be. most of the people here want to do everything in their power to make that party last a little longer. hence, teaching overseas.
so far, honestly, the biggest culture shock has been the western peers that we're surrounded by. i've been thrown into groups before not knowing a soul, and have always come out with lifelong friends on the other side. but i never gave much though to the fact that all those groups (camp, college, ywam) had strong christian communities that i could be supported by. i do hope i find that here, and i have found some wonderfully kind people, but most of them seem to have only 1 objective in mind this week: to drink. and drink. and drink.
i've never been one to pass up a cold one, but the way that most people orient all their energies and conversations around it, it almost takes on a god-like glow. and i'd rather not bow down at that altar, especially here and now, when people don't know me and don't know what i'm about.
actually, as i sit here and lament this, david is downstairs at a worship service being held in the cafeteria. my proper response should, obviously, have been to go. i know, sometimes i make no sense. i wanted to go, but the other problem i've encountered here is the endless, exhausting stream of people and conversations and nicey-nice chit-chat that i have to wade through all day long. everyone here is an accquaintance, and it takes time and energy to push through that title and get comfortable as friends. don't get me wrong, it's been a blast meeting people and making connections and hearing their stories. i love that. but at the end of an extremely long day, introverted breeann needs a little time to refuel. my resources are depleted.
these are my tired complaints, but really, overall this experience has started out fantastically well. our classes are so wonderful and are helping me to feel really prepared and equipped. they are actually getting me excited to teach, which is something i haven't felt in a long while. i can't wait to get into my classroom and start trying different strategies and activities out. the culture is wonderfully respectful and peaceful, the food is unique and relatively healthy, and our city sounds like it will have so much to offer david and i. there's so much natural beauty to explore - mountains, coastlines, and islands. i can't wait to soak it all in.
our (or at least 'my' anyway) continued prayers are for authentic friends - christian and non-christian so that we can be encouraged but also be a light. before i left, i also prayed that my faith would stand up under new and unknown pressures, and i already feel that happening here. christians are in the minority, and it's odd to feel that way, but i want my faith and convictions to be unwaivering.
onward.
south korea is beautiful. a rippled, wrinkled landscape full of hills, and mountains traced by snakes of low-lying clouds. it has been lush and wet and green. we're living on jeonju university's campus, which is huge and modern. we walk to class, we eat in the cafeteria, and we sleep back in the dorms. we sit through long lectures and have homework. we're literally "back to college" for a week, which i suppose some people would wish for, but i find myself feeling a little old. most of the young teachers here seem to want to recreate just that: the endless party that some immortalize college to be. most of the people here want to do everything in their power to make that party last a little longer. hence, teaching overseas.
so far, honestly, the biggest culture shock has been the western peers that we're surrounded by. i've been thrown into groups before not knowing a soul, and have always come out with lifelong friends on the other side. but i never gave much though to the fact that all those groups (camp, college, ywam) had strong christian communities that i could be supported by. i do hope i find that here, and i have found some wonderfully kind people, but most of them seem to have only 1 objective in mind this week: to drink. and drink. and drink.
i've never been one to pass up a cold one, but the way that most people orient all their energies and conversations around it, it almost takes on a god-like glow. and i'd rather not bow down at that altar, especially here and now, when people don't know me and don't know what i'm about.
actually, as i sit here and lament this, david is downstairs at a worship service being held in the cafeteria. my proper response should, obviously, have been to go. i know, sometimes i make no sense. i wanted to go, but the other problem i've encountered here is the endless, exhausting stream of people and conversations and nicey-nice chit-chat that i have to wade through all day long. everyone here is an accquaintance, and it takes time and energy to push through that title and get comfortable as friends. don't get me wrong, it's been a blast meeting people and making connections and hearing their stories. i love that. but at the end of an extremely long day, introverted breeann needs a little time to refuel. my resources are depleted.
these are my tired complaints, but really, overall this experience has started out fantastically well. our classes are so wonderful and are helping me to feel really prepared and equipped. they are actually getting me excited to teach, which is something i haven't felt in a long while. i can't wait to get into my classroom and start trying different strategies and activities out. the culture is wonderfully respectful and peaceful, the food is unique and relatively healthy, and our city sounds like it will have so much to offer david and i. there's so much natural beauty to explore - mountains, coastlines, and islands. i can't wait to soak it all in.
our (or at least 'my' anyway) continued prayers are for authentic friends - christian and non-christian so that we can be encouraged but also be a light. before i left, i also prayed that my faith would stand up under new and unknown pressures, and i already feel that happening here. christians are in the minority, and it's odd to feel that way, but i want my faith and convictions to be unwaivering.
onward.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Thought in an airport
Airports are such strange cells
Everyone I pass looks like someone
I know. In transit, in limbo,
You never really sleep, never really wake
But wait, wait, wait, to find
What's on the other side of the ocean.
...
I want to take it one day at a time. I'm really nervous. There's so much unknown. Where will we live, how will we eat, what if I'm a terrible teacher and have no friends?? This is what I do - play the worst case scenario over and over in the hopes that I might be pleasantly surprised.
Packing was the worst - our apartment and our suitcases. Endless trips and reevaluating. We concluded with 5 checked bags... Pretty good for 2 people for a year, but they still charged an arm and a leg.
Goodbyes got increasingly more difficult as our numbered days dwindled... Til only family was left. My sleepy-eyed sister in her bedroom doorway, long hugs from a teary- eyed mother, and a peppy father, planting a kiss on my cheek.
We will make the most. We will learn and grow and have stories to tell. We will try to love like Him, and we'll be practically forced to rely on Him... and I think those are all inevitably good things. I'll try to think on those.
Everyone I pass looks like someone
I know. In transit, in limbo,
You never really sleep, never really wake
But wait, wait, wait, to find
What's on the other side of the ocean.
...
I want to take it one day at a time. I'm really nervous. There's so much unknown. Where will we live, how will we eat, what if I'm a terrible teacher and have no friends?? This is what I do - play the worst case scenario over and over in the hopes that I might be pleasantly surprised.
Packing was the worst - our apartment and our suitcases. Endless trips and reevaluating. We concluded with 5 checked bags... Pretty good for 2 people for a year, but they still charged an arm and a leg.
Goodbyes got increasingly more difficult as our numbered days dwindled... Til only family was left. My sleepy-eyed sister in her bedroom doorway, long hugs from a teary- eyed mother, and a peppy father, planting a kiss on my cheek.
We will make the most. We will learn and grow and have stories to tell. We will try to love like Him, and we'll be practically forced to rely on Him... and I think those are all inevitably good things. I'll try to think on those.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
home is where you are
since we've been back from africa, it's been a flurry of activity. it feels like every moment is scheduled, and we keep adding on to never ending lists.
david and i now know that we are going to be teaching in south korea this fall. everything is finally signed, sealed, and delivered. our visas, our plane tickets, our suitcases all purchased and itching to be used. landing back in des moines was the most bittersweet feeling... such a relief to be on familiar soil and such a joy to see my dad and the cowgers, grinning wide at the baggage claim... but i felt a twinge of faltering confidence as i realized i'd be soon saying goodbye to the same people, at the same airport.
here's the breakdown of our days, worth remembering when we're far from home:
friday and saturday: saw sari and elliot in cedar falls! it was so much fun interacting with little E, and it's amazing how much he's grown in such a short while. we spent a lot of time centered around him, watching him explore and smile and shrug. took lots of pictures and enjoyed relaxing on the deck by the river.
saturday: saw kali and andy at their lovely new home in wdm. they're such incredible cooks and hosts - they made some awesome bruchetta and a delicious "meatlog". it was so great to reconnect w/them and others. their little asher is so mellow and content, as i held him he tried to eat every bead on my necklace for a good half hour. i'm so glad they're back in dsm, but so sad to be leaving right as they get back.
sunday: talked at Z about our colorado trip, and made the big announcement that we're leaving. everyone was pretty encouraging, thankfully. that evening, had girl's group at my place w/dana, mary, and tracy. always good discussion and vulnerability. i love these girls lots, and have been so grateful to have them in my life.
monday: huh. don't know what we did on monday...... ohhh wait. i do. we did our last "grill-out monday" and had yummy salmon while watching the finale of the bachelorette. we knew it would probably be our last opportunity to veg out like that for a long while. drank our "savannah dry ciders" from SA too.
tuesday: lunch w/brent, kari, and the kids at gusto pizza. delish! man, i love b & k, and i so love their kids too. it's so fun how they've become such good friends over the years. brent is like a brother to me, and i love how he and david act like middle schoolers around each other. they're a fantastic couple that we admire so much. we're gonna do our best to keep in touch w/them.
tuesday evening: ate dinner up at carlie and tony's house in ankeny. their kids micah and evitt are another couple of our faves. evitt was buddying up next to david and it was so adorable. micah had a dance party in the middle of the room for awhile to entertain us. they're such fun. jesse driver came to dinner too... and thus ensued the most i've laughed in a looooong time. gosh, he is such a fantastic, deadpan story-teller. he says the most shocking things with a straight face. he told a story about a rat in his toilet, and david was crying from laugh so hard. i wish we'd had more time to get to spend w/carlie and tony. just this summer we've started to discover what good friends they are.
wednesday: a good AM meeting w/brent and denise. in the afternoon, brent and i took some kids to a park for afternoon activities and carousel rides, then got some ice cream. it was a beautiful, summer afternoon. i took sophie up on the playground and another girl was calling her my daughter and i couldn't help thinking how fun it would be to actually be a mom, taking my kids to the playground. i know, i know, i probably see motherhood through rose-tinted glasses at the moment, but i can't wait to experience it someday.
wednesday evening: dinner at my parents, with the keller's over. it was great to reconnect with them and reminisce and relive africa. my mom made some good chicken lasagna, and we sat outside as the cicadas roared in the nearby trees. it's the most comfortable feeling in the world to sit with my family and take it all in. my dad being goofy, all hyped-up about his new blog that he's started, mom being the perfect hostess, jenalee talking about her internship - it all fills me with such sweet love. all the more knowing that i won't get to experience it for a year. if anything, i will come home so appreciative.
thursday: david's 28th birthday! he went to the IMAX harry potter movie earlier in the day w/amelia. that night, we met up w/a revolving door of friends over at wellman's pub in wdm. i think at one time or another we had jenalee, abby, anu, ryan galloway, ryan and lyndsay solomon, zach and ben anderson, seth, eric, myself and david all around a big table. later in the night, the sports switched over to cranked-up music videos, so we decided to call it a night.
friday: i had an eye appointment to finally get some new specs. in the afternoon we swung by zion to make sure our SA video would work. at 6, i met up at mary, tracy, and emily's house to determine whether or not we should go camping. it had been our original plan, but it had also been raining all day. we decided to nix the camping and instead went out to eat at open seasame (one of my faves). we met up with dana, anu, and mallory down there and i ate hummus to my heart's content. there was a belly dancer swirling around in that tiny little dive space, dancing and waving her scarves, which cracked us all up. afterwards, we stopped by to visit zach at 8/7, then we went over to raccoon river to play pool, which was also a rather funny endeavor considering anu is the only one who can play. tracy and i teamed up and won one, lost one. mary and dana were decently good, but anu and emily were certainly the best. we drank some delicious vanilla cream ale, which tasted like a mix between beer and cream soda. mmm.
saturday: farmer's market in the AM, hung w/anu and ryan for a bit. got my last pupusa, and it was delicious as always. david and i also go some homemade maple bacon ice cream which was oddly tasty. we savored the dogs, children, and fashion statements that can be found at the market as long as we could, and headed home around 12:30. once home, we forced ourselves to do some serious packing. around 4 we went for a run together. it was sweltering hot, but we made it about 3 miles. then david went to see his buddy josh while elizabeth and i met up over at pf changs for dinner. it was so great to catch up with her. it's good to hear all about how things are going at her church and in her life. we always have such good discussions. we then headed over to old navy and jordan creek where we were momentarily sucked in by all the trendy clothes.
now here i sit, anticipating another full day tomorrow. it's good to be so busy here before we depart... it helps me not to get so freaked out about what the heck is next. the change, the transition, the in-between is the stuff that drives me crazy. sometimes i catch myself thinking "what are we doing??" but i need to remember we feel called to do this. we feel like it is the best next step for us. we trust. and we believe that offering up a good story will bring a smile.
david and i now know that we are going to be teaching in south korea this fall. everything is finally signed, sealed, and delivered. our visas, our plane tickets, our suitcases all purchased and itching to be used. landing back in des moines was the most bittersweet feeling... such a relief to be on familiar soil and such a joy to see my dad and the cowgers, grinning wide at the baggage claim... but i felt a twinge of faltering confidence as i realized i'd be soon saying goodbye to the same people, at the same airport.
here's the breakdown of our days, worth remembering when we're far from home:
friday and saturday: saw sari and elliot in cedar falls! it was so much fun interacting with little E, and it's amazing how much he's grown in such a short while. we spent a lot of time centered around him, watching him explore and smile and shrug. took lots of pictures and enjoyed relaxing on the deck by the river.
saturday: saw kali and andy at their lovely new home in wdm. they're such incredible cooks and hosts - they made some awesome bruchetta and a delicious "meatlog". it was so great to reconnect w/them and others. their little asher is so mellow and content, as i held him he tried to eat every bead on my necklace for a good half hour. i'm so glad they're back in dsm, but so sad to be leaving right as they get back.
sunday: talked at Z about our colorado trip, and made the big announcement that we're leaving. everyone was pretty encouraging, thankfully. that evening, had girl's group at my place w/dana, mary, and tracy. always good discussion and vulnerability. i love these girls lots, and have been so grateful to have them in my life.
monday: huh. don't know what we did on monday...... ohhh wait. i do. we did our last "grill-out monday" and had yummy salmon while watching the finale of the bachelorette. we knew it would probably be our last opportunity to veg out like that for a long while. drank our "savannah dry ciders" from SA too.
tuesday: lunch w/brent, kari, and the kids at gusto pizza. delish! man, i love b & k, and i so love their kids too. it's so fun how they've become such good friends over the years. brent is like a brother to me, and i love how he and david act like middle schoolers around each other. they're a fantastic couple that we admire so much. we're gonna do our best to keep in touch w/them.
tuesday evening: ate dinner up at carlie and tony's house in ankeny. their kids micah and evitt are another couple of our faves. evitt was buddying up next to david and it was so adorable. micah had a dance party in the middle of the room for awhile to entertain us. they're such fun. jesse driver came to dinner too... and thus ensued the most i've laughed in a looooong time. gosh, he is such a fantastic, deadpan story-teller. he says the most shocking things with a straight face. he told a story about a rat in his toilet, and david was crying from laugh so hard. i wish we'd had more time to get to spend w/carlie and tony. just this summer we've started to discover what good friends they are.
wednesday: a good AM meeting w/brent and denise. in the afternoon, brent and i took some kids to a park for afternoon activities and carousel rides, then got some ice cream. it was a beautiful, summer afternoon. i took sophie up on the playground and another girl was calling her my daughter and i couldn't help thinking how fun it would be to actually be a mom, taking my kids to the playground. i know, i know, i probably see motherhood through rose-tinted glasses at the moment, but i can't wait to experience it someday.
wednesday evening: dinner at my parents, with the keller's over. it was great to reconnect with them and reminisce and relive africa. my mom made some good chicken lasagna, and we sat outside as the cicadas roared in the nearby trees. it's the most comfortable feeling in the world to sit with my family and take it all in. my dad being goofy, all hyped-up about his new blog that he's started, mom being the perfect hostess, jenalee talking about her internship - it all fills me with such sweet love. all the more knowing that i won't get to experience it for a year. if anything, i will come home so appreciative.
thursday: david's 28th birthday! he went to the IMAX harry potter movie earlier in the day w/amelia. that night, we met up w/a revolving door of friends over at wellman's pub in wdm. i think at one time or another we had jenalee, abby, anu, ryan galloway, ryan and lyndsay solomon, zach and ben anderson, seth, eric, myself and david all around a big table. later in the night, the sports switched over to cranked-up music videos, so we decided to call it a night.
friday: i had an eye appointment to finally get some new specs. in the afternoon we swung by zion to make sure our SA video would work. at 6, i met up at mary, tracy, and emily's house to determine whether or not we should go camping. it had been our original plan, but it had also been raining all day. we decided to nix the camping and instead went out to eat at open seasame (one of my faves). we met up with dana, anu, and mallory down there and i ate hummus to my heart's content. there was a belly dancer swirling around in that tiny little dive space, dancing and waving her scarves, which cracked us all up. afterwards, we stopped by to visit zach at 8/7, then we went over to raccoon river to play pool, which was also a rather funny endeavor considering anu is the only one who can play. tracy and i teamed up and won one, lost one. mary and dana were decently good, but anu and emily were certainly the best. we drank some delicious vanilla cream ale, which tasted like a mix between beer and cream soda. mmm.
saturday: farmer's market in the AM, hung w/anu and ryan for a bit. got my last pupusa, and it was delicious as always. david and i also go some homemade maple bacon ice cream which was oddly tasty. we savored the dogs, children, and fashion statements that can be found at the market as long as we could, and headed home around 12:30. once home, we forced ourselves to do some serious packing. around 4 we went for a run together. it was sweltering hot, but we made it about 3 miles. then david went to see his buddy josh while elizabeth and i met up over at pf changs for dinner. it was so great to catch up with her. it's good to hear all about how things are going at her church and in her life. we always have such good discussions. we then headed over to old navy and jordan creek where we were momentarily sucked in by all the trendy clothes.
now here i sit, anticipating another full day tomorrow. it's good to be so busy here before we depart... it helps me not to get so freaked out about what the heck is next. the change, the transition, the in-between is the stuff that drives me crazy. sometimes i catch myself thinking "what are we doing??" but i need to remember we feel called to do this. we feel like it is the best next step for us. we trust. and we believe that offering up a good story will bring a smile.
Friday, July 29, 2011
One Year
david and i had a bit of an extended anniversary celebration this year, since we were going to be in south africa on the actual date. we decided to have a special date night a few days before departure. we got dressed up to eat a delicious dinner at Red China Bistro on Ingersoll. we had fantastic hot & sour soup and deliciously light and flaky crab rangoons. while our main courses were good, we kept thinking that thai flavors still might do the best curry in town.
back home, we exchanged cards and gifts. i got david a bike seat since he rides often and his old one is falling apart. david completely surprised me (i actually didn't even think he'd gotten me a gift) when he pulled out a small, wrapped package that had been hidden in a drawer. it was a bracelet i'd looked at over a month before in valley junction when we'd been out shopping with my sisters during a farmer's market. it's handmade with vintage buttons and reminds me of fossil, but cooler because it's local.
i figured we had our anniversary covered, but david had been plotting for our time in south africa too. on the morning of july 17th, we woke before 6 AM to go on a "lion walk" with the team. this wasn't planned by david, but the rare opportunity just happened to fall on the morning of our anniversary (there are only 3 places in the world that allow lion walks). we drove north to a lion conservatory, and were greeted by 5 or 6 guides who worked with and trained the lions. they had these rules for us before we entered into the lion walk:
1. don't separate yourself from the group, they'll see you as weak
2. don't bend down to pick anything up, they'll see you as smaller (and more edible)
3. no dangling scarves or drawstrings, they'll want to play
4. no shorts or skirts, they'll see/smell your skin and want to "play"
5. no purse or bags because guides carry a bag w/meat in it (you don't want to be mistaken for the meat carrier).
6. don't pull their tails (what?!?!).
6. don't run.
as we stood outside the gate, our friend dan summed it up well: "they look a lot bigger than i thought they'd be..."
centuries of human development, reasoning, and instinct screamed warning sirens inside my head as we walked through the electric fence and into the park, where 2 lively young male lions waited eagerly to get out and walk with us.
at first, i didn't plan on actually touching the lions. i figured it was enough to walk alongside them and do my best to breathe regularly and not make eye contact (sure that if they saw my eyes, they'd see the petrified fear encased within, and would realize that i'd be an easy, curled-up-on-the-ground-wimpering snack if they chose to so much as take a step towards me).
these were not lazy, lethargic, fat lions. they were young, robust, and you could see their ribs. they chased each other, stalking one another in the long grass and pouncing like springs with roars and paws and sharp teeth. but the guides insisted on grabbing our camera and telling us where to touch them. walking with them was a rush. some might say this excursion was a commercialization of wild animals, or a waste of money, or a gimmick. but when you're touching the indifferent, sinewy back of a calculated, wild predator, with nothing stopping him from turning and maiming you... you're breath catches in your throat. you feel nothing but awe and absolute humility. those few moments of connection are surreal.
not a bad way to start our anniversary. and we left with all our limbs and appendages intact, to boot.
that night, david surprised me again. he'd been emailing with the blessmans to see if there was a way we could do a special dinner together on the night of our anniversary. i figured we'd gotten all of our festivities out of the way by now so, when jim asked me to accompany him to the giftshop at the nearby lodge, i didn't think anything of it.
the power had been out all day in the village, and so we pulled up to a dark lodge and a man named Conrad waiting for us. jim dropped us off there and said he'd be back in bit. we ended up having a candlelit dinner in the shikwaru lodge restaurant, and we were the only ones there. we had a few courses that came out: stuffed mushroom, then a salad and rolls, then the main course was chicken and kudu, grilled veggies and fries. dessert was cheesecake. Conrad is the head chef there, and is from zimbabwe. he was cooking in the back using gas lanterns for light. he came out and chatted with us for a long while about his life and family, and i loved every moment. only in africa would the head chef hang out and talk with you during your anniversary dinner that he cooked in the dark. it was so thoughtful of david to arrange it.
it was an incredible way to celebrate our first year together. it was so thoughtful of david. i am amazed at how this year has flown by. we've learned so much, and we've also had so much fun. i've laughed more this year, (and lightened up more this year), than any other year of my life. hanging out with my husband is endlessly fun to me, because we get each other. i'm humbled that i get to share this life with him, and i can't wait to see what the next year will bring.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
afreeka
i sit in a giant house on a game lodge - the shikwaru game lodge to be exact. my husband and most of our team are still huddled around a campfire outside, making an african version of s'mores (with biscuits, cadbury chocolate, and pink marshmellows).
but before you envision us all roughing it in the bush, let me tell you the ways that this africa is different from the one that i remember: i sit in a gorgeous, modern house with a heater on, because the air is cold and crisp outside. i also have a bed. with actual sheets. in a room to itself. with an ELECTRIC BLANKET. toilets have seats. and you can flush them. water from the faucet is drinkable. there are actually paved roads. people know english. black children don't run screaming "white ghost" when they see me. there is no traditional, tribal clothing. there are no mud houses with thatched roofs. i don't have to bathe with a bucket of cold water and a cup. western influence is heavy (on our first night we stopped at a wimpy burger and were seated beneath a huge tv screen stuck on VH1 music videos).
these things threw me off for a couple of days. i almost missed the roughing it, and the lack of supplies and sanitation. i sort of liked being pushed to my physical limits. not to mention that i have been in the most desolate places in the world, but at least those places were untouched by the media and the modern influences of our looming western society (yesterday, a 4th grade boy listed nicki minaj as he named off of famous people that he loved, and something in me just decided that was wrong).
but this is still undeniably africa. i may have to look a little harder to see it, but africa isn't really about the conditions or the clothing. it is about the resilience, the joy, the hope and the heart of the people here. here is the africa i know and love... heartbreaking as it may seem at times: i sit down with high school girls who have watched friend after family member after friend die in the last year, and still they are able to see God's hand. i talk to young children about their future and they want to be social workers, lawyers, doctors, accountants... and they want to stay in south africa to help others. women who can't speak my language laugh with wide, missing-toothed smiles as they hug me and call me sister. grandmothers feed their grand babies, because mom and dad have died of AIDS. children share food with each other. we sit in wide circles and play "duck, duck, monkey" in a haze of kicked up red dust. donkeys and goats take their sweet time crossing the road. fanta is available for mass consumption. church is hours long, with endless, joyous clapping and singing. kids are still kids.
....
today, we spent time at a feeding center. our cars pulled up to a huddle of little orphans and their caretakers as they sat in plastic chairs under the shade of a few sparse trees. the children had started shouting "white people! white people!" in their language as soon as they saw the cars turn down the road. they ran to the cars with outstretched arms, begging to be picked up and held. i sat on a dusty step with little girls as they stroked my strange blond hair and tried to braid it with deft, swift little hands. they touched my skin, they marvelled at my veins and fingertips. they were full of wonder and curiosity. and though i've had similar experiences before, i'd never trade those moments for anything. they are the beauty of africa. small bridges are built, and the moments become impressions on our spirits. those impressions can change the course of our lives.
something always happens to me in africa. my heart is heavy, but full.
and i never ever want to leave.
but before you envision us all roughing it in the bush, let me tell you the ways that this africa is different from the one that i remember: i sit in a gorgeous, modern house with a heater on, because the air is cold and crisp outside. i also have a bed. with actual sheets. in a room to itself. with an ELECTRIC BLANKET. toilets have seats. and you can flush them. water from the faucet is drinkable. there are actually paved roads. people know english. black children don't run screaming "white ghost" when they see me. there is no traditional, tribal clothing. there are no mud houses with thatched roofs. i don't have to bathe with a bucket of cold water and a cup. western influence is heavy (on our first night we stopped at a wimpy burger and were seated beneath a huge tv screen stuck on VH1 music videos).
these things threw me off for a couple of days. i almost missed the roughing it, and the lack of supplies and sanitation. i sort of liked being pushed to my physical limits. not to mention that i have been in the most desolate places in the world, but at least those places were untouched by the media and the modern influences of our looming western society (yesterday, a 4th grade boy listed nicki minaj as he named off of famous people that he loved, and something in me just decided that was wrong).
but this is still undeniably africa. i may have to look a little harder to see it, but africa isn't really about the conditions or the clothing. it is about the resilience, the joy, the hope and the heart of the people here. here is the africa i know and love... heartbreaking as it may seem at times: i sit down with high school girls who have watched friend after family member after friend die in the last year, and still they are able to see God's hand. i talk to young children about their future and they want to be social workers, lawyers, doctors, accountants... and they want to stay in south africa to help others. women who can't speak my language laugh with wide, missing-toothed smiles as they hug me and call me sister. grandmothers feed their grand babies, because mom and dad have died of AIDS. children share food with each other. we sit in wide circles and play "duck, duck, monkey" in a haze of kicked up red dust. donkeys and goats take their sweet time crossing the road. fanta is available for mass consumption. church is hours long, with endless, joyous clapping and singing. kids are still kids.
....
today, we spent time at a feeding center. our cars pulled up to a huddle of little orphans and their caretakers as they sat in plastic chairs under the shade of a few sparse trees. the children had started shouting "white people! white people!" in their language as soon as they saw the cars turn down the road. they ran to the cars with outstretched arms, begging to be picked up and held. i sat on a dusty step with little girls as they stroked my strange blond hair and tried to braid it with deft, swift little hands. they touched my skin, they marvelled at my veins and fingertips. they were full of wonder and curiosity. and though i've had similar experiences before, i'd never trade those moments for anything. they are the beauty of africa. small bridges are built, and the moments become impressions on our spirits. those impressions can change the course of our lives.
something always happens to me in africa. my heart is heavy, but full.
and i never ever want to leave.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Estes Park, Colorado
the day after VBS, david and i left for a week of service in colorado. we were at the church at 5:45 AM on a saturday, standing around with a bunch of fuzzy, squinting high schoolers and their slightly wary parents. we were driving 2, 16-passenger vans. we had 17 kids and 6 total chaperones. i had no idea what i was in for.
i was exhausted from vbs. the last thing i wanted was another "tough" week of being the zion staff person. i was tired of logistics, of mental exertion, of putting on the front of happy, peppy, "on"version of myself. i wanted to be fully there, fully present, in colorado, but i was worried i'd be distracted and distant. thankfully, God knew my heart, He knew my worries and my insecurities. and He gave me the gift of an absolutely beautiful week. it was an answer to every prayer i had. i've hesitated to write about it for so long because i'm afraid my words don't do it justice. it was like taking a vacation with 20 of my closest friends.
DAY 1: The Drive, Ollies, and the Drug-station
we departed the zion parking lot around 6:13 AM, armed with walkie talkies and coffee (david had to pee a record amount of times in those first few hours). we traded trucker lingo back and forth with carlie and tony (two of the most amazing leaders/people/friends EVER, oh my goodness i loved serving with them), and listened to music quietly as kids slept. we arrived to "Big Ollies" in kearney, nebraska around 1, and let's just say i was not prepared. the place was a big old saloon-style dive restaurant, but the thing that overwhelmed me was the fact that ollie had been quite the hunter back in the day. there were the following (including but not limited to) animals taxidermied onto the walls: a giraffe, an elephant, a polar bear, dozens of members of the gazelle/deer/antelope family, and a jackrabbit. it was a little nauseating... in a kitchy, good way.
further into colorado, when i was driving with carlie and tony & david were leading the other van, david led us to the creepiest, sketchiest gas station i've ever been to. as soon as we arrived, i hopped out of our van and got solicited by a drug dealer (no joke - "you girls like perfume?? i've got some in the back of my van, come see it" - and carlie yelling "NO THANK YOU. NO THANK YOU."). same thing happened to the other van. tony came over to us and said "do you have everyone in your van? good. roll up the windows and lock the doors. we're getting out of here." it was intense, but kind of hilarious in hindsight.
we arrived at our destination, a beautiful church surrounded by mountain views, around 7 and met the pastor. he showed us around, we met up and had devos, and crashed.
DAY 2: Bears and Rookie Bears
we attended church on sunday morning, and were pleasantly impressed with the small, laid back congregation. we went to work on a ranch set up in the mountains for the afternoon. we were going to be hauling "slash" or mountain debris (branches, trees, logs) off the mountain. this is the first time (of many) that these kids blew me away. they worked like champs, working hard and getting scratched up. the work over the next few days was physically the hardest i'd ever done, but mentally it was so freeing. we had set tasks, and all we had to do was accomplish them. it was great to get into a rhythm and have chances to chat with all different kids about their lives. it was the kind of work that felt so good once you were done and could see all you'd accomplished. it didn't require mental dexterity or even an "on" attitude. you just had to get in the dirt and dust and do it.
early in our work, a bear came ambling around the parameter of where we picking up slash (apparently, patrick had scared it away from the trash, and towards our general direction). it was close enough that my heart rate increased noticeably, and i started wondering what would happen if it decided one of our kids looked particularly tasty. it trotted along, unfazed, for awhile as we all stood gaping on. i'd never seen anything like it. beautiful and scary. it disappeared into the trees above without so much as a grunt.
after work, we drove up to trail ridge road. it was freezing, but made for great photo ops. we decided to split into 2 vans after this point, so we could maneuver showers and dinner easily. we took our van to dinner first, then off to shower, then back to the church. at the church, we realized we were locked out, because the other van had the key. we couldn't get ahold of them (great reception up in those mountains), and so the goofiness began to ensue. a group of kids were huddled around the door, chomping on fake, candy cigarettes. dakota and a few others were planning a sort of flash-mob welcome back for the missing van, that included zombie walking and thriller moves. in the midst of this, a car pulled into the parking lot. in the darkness, we joked that it was a cop, and that they better eat their candy cigarettes. suddenly, a street light reflected off the top of the car: it WAS a cop.
i have a horrible aversion to authority, i'm not gonna lie. i've
the other van arrived a few moments later. almost everyone went inside... except dakota, who had suddenly disappeared around the side of the church. after some prompting and shouting his name, we heard a distinctive thud and drag sound being repeated from the darkness. a zombie dakota arrived a few minutes later and broke into a flash mob dance of thriller, all by himself. tony and carlie were confused, but i just died laughing. in that moment, i decided dakota was one of the funniest kids i've ever known.
we ended the night with worship and small groups, which was so refreshing and good.
Day 3: Mike's my Hero
we were off bright and early to the music camp, but got totally lost winding through the mountains. it was the most beautiful scenery, but we also ran into crazy construction, and ended up being over an hour and a half late to the camp. feeling sheepish and sorry, we introduced ourselves to the maintenance man, mike, who could care less what time we arrived. "the work's still here!" he chirped. he trotted off to show us the cabins we would be painting. his age was impossible to tell, but he climbed up on scaffolding like spiderman, and told stories with great flourish and had these youthful, twinkling blue eyes. i could have hung out with mike all week, he was fantastic.
the kids worked hard in the cool colorado air, and we finished the first cabin in no time. amelia found another cabin with a grand piano inside, and decided to play some music while we painted - it was beautiful. over lunch, some of the counselors at the camp played some music for us, and then gave us odd looks when we all enthusiastically clapped. maybe it's not cool to clap for classical music? who knows. in the afternoon, we finished another cabin under mike's supervision, then cleared some slash for him. we were done pretty early, all things considered. i almost wished there was more for us to do. the place was so peaceful, and painting is such a relaxing pass time.
that evening, we went climbing all over the alluvial fan in estes park. we took lots of pictures and soaked in the sun. downtown later, we ate mexican with amelia, katie, and ellie, then walked the shops, looking at overpriced, touristy souvenirs. back at the church, we had small groups again. ours went deep, and it was really good. i felt really proud of these kids, for pursuing their faith in so many unpredictable circumstances. during worship, tony played a song that he'd played at david & i's wedding, in honor of our anniversary. it was really thoughtful of him.
i think this was also the night we stayed up really late watching youtube videos, which set the tone for the rest of our trip ("wouldja look at that! just look at it!" and "heeeeeere pep pep pep" and "it's pretty neat" became regular catchprhrases we overused for days to come).
Day 4: Pinecones and Needles and Thistles - oh my!
i almost forgot all about including this day in the blog - it was our hardest workday yet. We worked at the YMCA camp (the largest in the world), clearing up a neglected area where many of the female staff lived. As we looked over the lot, it was like a sea of pinecones, and we thought we'd never finish. We split into 2 groups - David went with the "thistlers" who seemed to create many special memories throughout the day, and I went with the landscapers, if you will. We filled over 116 large trash bags FULL of pinecones, needles, and sticks. We moved picnic tables and tried to make the area more welcoming. The ladies thanked us often, and as we scanned our progress at the end of the day, we were amazed by the visual difference we had made. We were also rewarded with getting to eat at the YMCA cafeteria for lunch and dinner. It was a delicious buffet that was a welcome break from our sack lunches we'd been eating.
Day 4: Pinecones and Needles and Thistles - oh my!
i almost forgot all about including this day in the blog - it was our hardest workday yet. We worked at the YMCA camp (the largest in the world), clearing up a neglected area where many of the female staff lived. As we looked over the lot, it was like a sea of pinecones, and we thought we'd never finish. We split into 2 groups - David went with the "thistlers" who seemed to create many special memories throughout the day, and I went with the landscapers, if you will. We filled over 116 large trash bags FULL of pinecones, needles, and sticks. We moved picnic tables and tried to make the area more welcoming. The ladies thanked us often, and as we scanned our progress at the end of the day, we were amazed by the visual difference we had made. We were also rewarded with getting to eat at the YMCA cafeteria for lunch and dinner. It was a delicious buffet that was a welcome break from our sack lunches we'd been eating.
Day 5: Landscaping 101& Bible Point, and beautiful night of encouragement, openness, and worship
this day, we worked at a safe house, doing a lot of weeding, landscaping, mowing, and other yard work. i feel like everything just came together in perfect synchronicity. the kids were all totally comfortable with each other and hung out with dozens of different combinations of people throughout the day. we had lots of meaningful discussions, and lots of laughs in the midst. the group was in a great rhythm, where everyone had space to be themselves. this was the day it felt like family, and this was the day when i realized i really didn't want to go home. it felt like being at camp again. i had some good chats with katie l., aly, katie m., and others.
once done there, a small handful of kids were willing to hike up to bible point. i felt like i was in colorado and even though i was exhausted, i needed to do some hiking. it was a steep climb up to a point where you could see the whole ymca camp. there was a mailbox at the top, with a bible in it, and a cross made out of 2 big branches. david read a verse and we prayed and took in the sweeping views of minuscule waterfalls and streams, of snow capped mountains and an impending cluster of black clouds off to one side. as soon as we got back to the bottom, the storm came in, with lightning and a downpour, throwing a wrench into our showering plans. luckily, the nurse at the medic station let us use her place to shower (which we all did in record time, using david's stopwatch, so as to get out of there as fast as possible).
dinner was at this massive BBQ place, i think it was called dave's barbecue. we sat w/the leaders, except without carlie - she'd gone back to the church w/ellie who wasn't feeling well. i got a huge meal of ribs and chicken, and devoured most of it. after, we went back to downtown estes for a bit, but anyone could see the kids were dragging and starting to complain. they were tired and spent, because they'd given all their energy to the work projects all week, they were ready to crash.
we ended the night with an exended serivice, lots of worship, and kids sharing from their hearts. we went around the circle and affirmed everyone, and it was a great way to end the trip.
Day 6: The Neverending Dance Party
the title sums it up. the drive back was hilarious to the point of ridiculousness. we made it through our wedding dance mix twice. david made up lyrics to "bailamos" which dissolved him into a fit of laughter. we hit construction and high winds, but it was a smooth drive home, and the perfect end to a great service trip.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
pandamania, pandamonium, VBS
vacation bible school came like a lion and went out like a lamb this year, june 20th - 24th. leading up to those days, i eat, breath, and sleep vbs. the intricacies and the details are unreal. it's such a production. but i've got to say that this year i had the greatest volunteers - a lot of them awesome teenagers - and everything just seemed more managable. i think a lot of the kids got to experience God, and were able to feel His love through the stories and creative stations. but, quite possibly the best part of the whole week was seeing my husband in a panda suit. before we returned said suit, he and a couple high school guys took panda pete on one last grand adventure. i decided to include my favorites from their photoshoot here. enjoy :)
Friday, June 24, 2011
tomorrow is a million miles away
our summer has come at us like a tidal wave... one i watched with anxiety from the distance. but there's nothing you can really do to stop a tidal wave. you just have to prepare as much as you can, and then ride it. or, i suppose, drown in it. that's an option too. ok, maybe this is a poor analogy.
anyway. david and i got back from cape cod and boston about a week ago. we retreated for a few days to celebrate our 1 year anniversary. boston and the cape was one of the cheapest trips i could find, and it ended up being perfect for us. we rented a room with paperthin walls in a big old beach house that gave us sweeping panoramas of the atlantic as we ate our breakfast in the kitchen. the weather was cold, and the cape was so much less polished, less touristy that i'd expected, in such a good way.
everything was saturated in deep color and character and frozen in time. every fish and chips shop, every ice cream joint, every flea market and main street and dive bar. every little local boutique, every art gallery, every house turned into an antique shop or thrift store (on our last day david and i were give a huge brochure entitled "thrift stores of the cape" and i about died and went to heaven), everything we encountered was local and paused in time somewhere around the 1960s. each day we plotted our destination and took windy little roads to see what we could find. david was so great at chatting with the locals, asking questions and gathering recommendations. he's such a perfect travel companion.
a major highlight was the whale watching tour in provincetown. we saw whales breach out of the water, and swim under our boat. we saw them spray water, and lift their massive tails. they were everywhere, and they were somehow holy. their sheer size and the grace with which they maneuver is like paint gliding onto a canvas. breathtaking. it was fun to share the experience with a bunch of strangers too. we'd all gasp and 'ooh' and 'ahh' at the same time, crowding shoulder to shoulder as we hung over the railings.
other highlights include eating tons of fish, from salmon tacos to stuffed cod to fish and chips. we also discovered the best breakfast joint i've probably EVER been to (i had bananas foster french toast and went into a sugar coma), and drank loads of dunkin donuts coffee. we also loved the nature. the cape cod national seashore stretches on for quiet miles, complete with old new england lighthouses and dozens of odd characters playing in the surf. also, we loved our day trip into boston. we rode the subways (which always makes me feel cool and cosmopolitan) and followed the "freedom trail" all through the maze of a city. we got lost at first, but there was so much to see, we didn't mind. we ended the day at a local italian restaurant in the italian district, and i feel like we got the most we could out of the city.
so, trip one is down. i'll try to get some pictures on here sometime.
we came home to VBS in full effect. it exhausted me, but i feel like it was one of the best vbs weeks we've had. we had some all-star volunteers and some really cool bible stories to share.
vbs ended today, and i have just finished packing for colorado. we leave tomorrow, at 5:30 AM. ugggh. david and i are chaperoning the high school kids on a mission trip in estes park. i know it will be amazing, i just hope and pray i've got the energy to pour into these kids. they need love and Jesus, and i've got to surrender and let him work through me. i want to make sure to document all this stuff - write down the experiences and memories - before they all pile up and i start to forget. but for now, i just better get some sleep.
anyway. david and i got back from cape cod and boston about a week ago. we retreated for a few days to celebrate our 1 year anniversary. boston and the cape was one of the cheapest trips i could find, and it ended up being perfect for us. we rented a room with paperthin walls in a big old beach house that gave us sweeping panoramas of the atlantic as we ate our breakfast in the kitchen. the weather was cold, and the cape was so much less polished, less touristy that i'd expected, in such a good way.
everything was saturated in deep color and character and frozen in time. every fish and chips shop, every ice cream joint, every flea market and main street and dive bar. every little local boutique, every art gallery, every house turned into an antique shop or thrift store (on our last day david and i were give a huge brochure entitled "thrift stores of the cape" and i about died and went to heaven), everything we encountered was local and paused in time somewhere around the 1960s. each day we plotted our destination and took windy little roads to see what we could find. david was so great at chatting with the locals, asking questions and gathering recommendations. he's such a perfect travel companion.
a major highlight was the whale watching tour in provincetown. we saw whales breach out of the water, and swim under our boat. we saw them spray water, and lift their massive tails. they were everywhere, and they were somehow holy. their sheer size and the grace with which they maneuver is like paint gliding onto a canvas. breathtaking. it was fun to share the experience with a bunch of strangers too. we'd all gasp and 'ooh' and 'ahh' at the same time, crowding shoulder to shoulder as we hung over the railings.
other highlights include eating tons of fish, from salmon tacos to stuffed cod to fish and chips. we also discovered the best breakfast joint i've probably EVER been to (i had bananas foster french toast and went into a sugar coma), and drank loads of dunkin donuts coffee. we also loved the nature. the cape cod national seashore stretches on for quiet miles, complete with old new england lighthouses and dozens of odd characters playing in the surf. also, we loved our day trip into boston. we rode the subways (which always makes me feel cool and cosmopolitan) and followed the "freedom trail" all through the maze of a city. we got lost at first, but there was so much to see, we didn't mind. we ended the day at a local italian restaurant in the italian district, and i feel like we got the most we could out of the city.
so, trip one is down. i'll try to get some pictures on here sometime.
we came home to VBS in full effect. it exhausted me, but i feel like it was one of the best vbs weeks we've had. we had some all-star volunteers and some really cool bible stories to share.
vbs ended today, and i have just finished packing for colorado. we leave tomorrow, at 5:30 AM. ugggh. david and i are chaperoning the high school kids on a mission trip in estes park. i know it will be amazing, i just hope and pray i've got the energy to pour into these kids. they need love and Jesus, and i've got to surrender and let him work through me. i want to make sure to document all this stuff - write down the experiences and memories - before they all pile up and i start to forget. but for now, i just better get some sleep.
Monday, June 6, 2011
bikes and trails
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| goodwill bike rack, garage sale bike |
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| sustenance in iced coffee... this was taken shortly before the wind blew the coffee off the car |
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| gotta protect that beautiful skin |
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| david's classy ride |
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| mine |
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| preparations |
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| picnic lunch time |
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| staple foods |
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| LOST |
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| up high and being blown over |
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| squares |
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| angles |
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| picturesque |
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| cranes |
Sunday, June 5, 2011
don't blink
sunday nights have always come with a slowly shifting feeling, for me. as the weekend ends, the week hasn't quite begun and there's always this small window left open for reflecting.
this week and weekend have been good and full of summer. monday - memorial day, david and i went on a monumental bike ride from slater to the high trestle trail and back. it was so windy, but felt great in the sun. the day ended with a bbq at the grandparents, where we all whittled the night away on lawn chairs in the front driveway. tuesday was a solid, thought-provoking small group time, topped off w/ice cream from van dees. wednesday, my cousin joey came over to teach david how to change oil, and we fed him pizza before heading over to soup night. thursday was a vbs training meeting that had me so stressed out, but ended with charlie and the chocolate factory being shown out on the lawn outside, across the street, at the art center, so we loaded up on bug spray (it just smells like camp when i put that stuff on!) and popcorn and huddled on blankets w/friends. friday was a party at 8/7 central with yummy food and a good chance to catch up w/some rarely seen friends. saturday we woke early to meet my dad and jenalee as they finished their 20K. i felt so proud of them, and my dad was in fine form as we strolled the farmer's market, talking to anyone who would pause to listen. saturday night was a bbq for citybranch, where we got some free food and played yard games w/friends. sunday was a neighborhood outreach with outrageous inflatables, and delicious tacos, and fun times w/zion kids.
in the midst of all this busyness, i got a text on saturday morning that a guy at my church had passed away in his sleep, suddenly. he was 43. i know his family well, and he was a wonderful example of a faithful, gentle man. he always helped usher, or sub for sunday school. he was peaceful, a staple at the church with a kind word or a warm grin. i don't mourn for him - i know he's where he's meant to be now. but he leaves behind a wife and 3 kids. two sons who won't have a father to teach them how to drive. a daughter who won't have her dad walk her down the aisle (who's facebook post tonight said something about the time of "daddy's visitation" and i about burst into tears). a wife who comes home to an empty bed. that breaks my heart.
that kind of stuff can stop me in my tracks. suddenly, all the busyness and rushing falls away. the pettiness and the short answers become embarassing. the urgency and the beauty of life flower up all around me. this is going to go so fast. i want to be so incredibly thankful, and i want to treasure it all, and i should never be so arrogant as to think that i'm immune, or invincible. we can't run or hide from the inevitable tragedy of life. but we can fight it for all it's worth, by loving dangerously, unabashedly. every. single. day.
this week and weekend have been good and full of summer. monday - memorial day, david and i went on a monumental bike ride from slater to the high trestle trail and back. it was so windy, but felt great in the sun. the day ended with a bbq at the grandparents, where we all whittled the night away on lawn chairs in the front driveway. tuesday was a solid, thought-provoking small group time, topped off w/ice cream from van dees. wednesday, my cousin joey came over to teach david how to change oil, and we fed him pizza before heading over to soup night. thursday was a vbs training meeting that had me so stressed out, but ended with charlie and the chocolate factory being shown out on the lawn outside, across the street, at the art center, so we loaded up on bug spray (it just smells like camp when i put that stuff on!) and popcorn and huddled on blankets w/friends. friday was a party at 8/7 central with yummy food and a good chance to catch up w/some rarely seen friends. saturday we woke early to meet my dad and jenalee as they finished their 20K. i felt so proud of them, and my dad was in fine form as we strolled the farmer's market, talking to anyone who would pause to listen. saturday night was a bbq for citybranch, where we got some free food and played yard games w/friends. sunday was a neighborhood outreach with outrageous inflatables, and delicious tacos, and fun times w/zion kids.
in the midst of all this busyness, i got a text on saturday morning that a guy at my church had passed away in his sleep, suddenly. he was 43. i know his family well, and he was a wonderful example of a faithful, gentle man. he always helped usher, or sub for sunday school. he was peaceful, a staple at the church with a kind word or a warm grin. i don't mourn for him - i know he's where he's meant to be now. but he leaves behind a wife and 3 kids. two sons who won't have a father to teach them how to drive. a daughter who won't have her dad walk her down the aisle (who's facebook post tonight said something about the time of "daddy's visitation" and i about burst into tears). a wife who comes home to an empty bed. that breaks my heart.
that kind of stuff can stop me in my tracks. suddenly, all the busyness and rushing falls away. the pettiness and the short answers become embarassing. the urgency and the beauty of life flower up all around me. this is going to go so fast. i want to be so incredibly thankful, and i want to treasure it all, and i should never be so arrogant as to think that i'm immune, or invincible. we can't run or hide from the inevitable tragedy of life. but we can fight it for all it's worth, by loving dangerously, unabashedly. every. single. day.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
life and wealth
"When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path.
The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.
The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful.
But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”
- Matthew 13:19-23
i'm thinking about this today... wondering where the seed of the word has landed in my own life. i guess i never thought about how the 2 things that make the seed unfruitful when it falls among the thorns are the worries of this life, and the deceitfulness of wealth. those 2 things can come off as harmless. like small, petty, unnoticeable sins. those 2 things are rampant everywhere in this culture... and in my heart. i worry a lot (especially lately) about my future, about my life (what i will eat, what i will drink, what i will wear... hmm, sound familiar?) and i lose trust in God's ability to be my provision.
that leads to the false security of wealth. i think to myself, if we get in a financially good state, if we can own this or that, then we'll be set. this is a dangerous and exhausting way to live. and yet, it's everywhere. it's ingrained in our society, in our "american dreams." in our big house and our 3 car garages and our well-kept children. it's so hard to get away from it. but this reminds me today that i need to be diligent in turning away from these weeds that choke. i want God's light to burst forth like the dawn in my life, but in order for that to happen, i need to become consumed with the things that consume the heart of God.
The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.
The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful.
But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”
- Matthew 13:19-23
i'm thinking about this today... wondering where the seed of the word has landed in my own life. i guess i never thought about how the 2 things that make the seed unfruitful when it falls among the thorns are the worries of this life, and the deceitfulness of wealth. those 2 things can come off as harmless. like small, petty, unnoticeable sins. those 2 things are rampant everywhere in this culture... and in my heart. i worry a lot (especially lately) about my future, about my life (what i will eat, what i will drink, what i will wear... hmm, sound familiar?) and i lose trust in God's ability to be my provision.
that leads to the false security of wealth. i think to myself, if we get in a financially good state, if we can own this or that, then we'll be set. this is a dangerous and exhausting way to live. and yet, it's everywhere. it's ingrained in our society, in our "american dreams." in our big house and our 3 car garages and our well-kept children. it's so hard to get away from it. but this reminds me today that i need to be diligent in turning away from these weeds that choke. i want God's light to burst forth like the dawn in my life, but in order for that to happen, i need to become consumed with the things that consume the heart of God.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson
this was such a fun read. it's bryson at his best and most self-deprecating. i always enjoy his writing style and the ways he weaves history and science into his own personal narrative. he knows his stuff, and his research is extensive - so when i read him, i feel like i'm learning (and enjoying it) in spite of myself. i'd give this book a 4/5. i found myself yearning for a little more of the redeeming human story that lingered in the shadows - more characters and development - but i realize that may have been part of his artistic choice as he tried to paint the overwhelming and neverending scenery around him.
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
i've wanted to read this book for a long time, lumping it in with Pride & Prejudice and Great Expectations. but, woah, this is different. it's darker, more sinister, more violent, less forgiving. the characters aren't exactly likable, and they're stuck in a cyclical, malicious existence. the third-person narration style was jumpy and the reader kept having a sneaking suspicion that the narrator is offering a subjective view of the whole thing. and yet, all that is not to say that i hated it. it sort of got under my skin after a while. i just had to see how it would all end. i'd give it a 4.5/5. it's one of those books that lingers with you, with it's beautiful descriptions of the moors, the fog, and the rain. it's haunting.
Little Bee by Chris Cleave
oh man, i am behind on my books reflections (as if i'm some sort of student). i'll give this book a 3.5/5. it was a quick read and an interesting story with slightly outrageous twists and turns. while not entirely believable or advanced, it was entertaining, and i loved the perspective of the refugee girl from nigeria. i know there are hundreds of thousands of children living with similar haunting memories and broken pasts. i wouldn't go out of my way to recommend it, but i enjoyed it.
Friday, May 13, 2011
it doesn't do any good
to sit on the kitchen floor and cry. i know this, because i tried it tonight. big, fat tears rolled down my cheeks. i wiped snot on my t-shirt sleeve like a little kid. i admit it, i'm an ugly crier, and i prefer to do it alone. by way of explanation, i'd just stubbed my toe wickedly. it hurt so ungodly much that i inadvertently crushed the sprite can in my hand as i spit "dammit" through clenched teeth. and that, ladies and gentlemen, was the last straw in my stack. i slumped down in our little kitchen and cried.
i would classify today as a sort of sad day, overall. i went to a funeral this morning of a woman who was part of my mexico mission team last november. she was spunky and fun, engaged to be married, and planned to come to south africa this summer. she was 61, and was diagnosed with cancer. less than six months later, she's gone. it's sobering, to say the least, to sit at her memorial service and watch her fiancee and kids and parents and siblings choke up repeatedly. some things don't make any sense.
the day ebbed into a bleh sort of evening, where the tv hypnotizes you and steadily sucks minute after minute from your marrow until you realize your whole night is gone. i hate television, and yet even i fall prey to it's alluring images. i was grumpy that i didn't do productive things tonight. i have dozens of thank yous to write to all the selfless individuals who have been generous enough to support david and me on a mission trip. i have stacks of papers to wade through and attempt to organize. a job hinges on my ability to get everything done right. or so i feel.
so then, i did the typical wife thing and snapped at david, because i feel like i'm the one taking initiative the whole way. i feel like i'm the one in charge, for some reason. i feel like if i don't push and pull and drag, then nothing will ever get done. whether that's true or not, i don't wait around to find out. i jump the gun, i read and reread everything, and then i get mad that i've had to do it all alone.
but really, look at me, crying so so quietly on the dirty rug in the kitchen. why am i crying so quietly? because i want to be alone. i am so fiercely independent, i sometimes don't even give david a chance. i don't want attention, in fact i run from it, but sometimes we have to be vulnerable. i have to admit that, quite frankly, i don't know why i'm crying. i'm just sort of scared, and feeling sad about everything tonight. life can be grand and beautiful, and we like to show off the good parts to everyone around us, a convincing display unto ourselves that we have it all together.
but sometimes, people cry. and they don't look good while they do it.
sometimes, life can be a little heavy. but we ought to ask for a hand. i think that's how He wanted it to be.
i would classify today as a sort of sad day, overall. i went to a funeral this morning of a woman who was part of my mexico mission team last november. she was spunky and fun, engaged to be married, and planned to come to south africa this summer. she was 61, and was diagnosed with cancer. less than six months later, she's gone. it's sobering, to say the least, to sit at her memorial service and watch her fiancee and kids and parents and siblings choke up repeatedly. some things don't make any sense.
the day ebbed into a bleh sort of evening, where the tv hypnotizes you and steadily sucks minute after minute from your marrow until you realize your whole night is gone. i hate television, and yet even i fall prey to it's alluring images. i was grumpy that i didn't do productive things tonight. i have dozens of thank yous to write to all the selfless individuals who have been generous enough to support david and me on a mission trip. i have stacks of papers to wade through and attempt to organize. a job hinges on my ability to get everything done right. or so i feel.
so then, i did the typical wife thing and snapped at david, because i feel like i'm the one taking initiative the whole way. i feel like i'm the one in charge, for some reason. i feel like if i don't push and pull and drag, then nothing will ever get done. whether that's true or not, i don't wait around to find out. i jump the gun, i read and reread everything, and then i get mad that i've had to do it all alone.
but really, look at me, crying so so quietly on the dirty rug in the kitchen. why am i crying so quietly? because i want to be alone. i am so fiercely independent, i sometimes don't even give david a chance. i don't want attention, in fact i run from it, but sometimes we have to be vulnerable. i have to admit that, quite frankly, i don't know why i'm crying. i'm just sort of scared, and feeling sad about everything tonight. life can be grand and beautiful, and we like to show off the good parts to everyone around us, a convincing display unto ourselves that we have it all together.
but sometimes, people cry. and they don't look good while they do it.
sometimes, life can be a little heavy. but we ought to ask for a hand. i think that's how He wanted it to be.
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