Ssh! Don't Tell Mom

I am a retired blog writer.

2010-11-04T18:20:00.000-07:00

To all of you out there who have followed my journeys and adventures across three different continents, thank you. I have enjoyed telling my stories and sharing the pictures and memories I have made from many different places in the world. It's been a wild ride, and I have loved (just about) every minute of it.

Because this is my last blog entry on Shh! Don't Tell Mom!, I think it's fitting that I reveal this: I tell mom just about everything. Mom even reads the blog. But thank you anyways to everyone out there who has kept my secrets : ).

May the peace and love of the Lord be behind you, in front of you, beside you, above you and within you - no matter where it is that you may be and on whatever adventure you and your family may be on.

So What Happens Now?

2010-11-04T05:04:00.000-07:00

Well, this is a good question. The phrase: "We plan and God laughs" is running through my mind.

I will be home at 3:24pm on Sunday, November 7th.

My immediate plans are to enjoy to spending time with my friends and family. Three weeks this summer just didn't seem to cut it : ). I will also, of course, be talking with my doctor and sorting through my health concerns. And, I will be job hunting - I am hoping that there is a church out there somewhere in the Charlotte-Hickory-Salisbury-ish area that needs an interim Youth and Family person. I have missed working along side a congregation, and I am excited at the idea of getting back into this type of ministry.

As for more longer term plans, I am head-over-heels in love with Eric, a North Carolina guy I had to go all the way to Slovakia to meet. Go figure. He and I will discern together what the future holds for us. I do, however, hope to go to seminary in the fall of next year. I am applying to schools in Columbia and St. Paul, and I am beginning the candidacy process with the North Carolina synod. All of this means, I am in the United States for the next couple of years (mom's really excited about that part!). Through my experiences overseas, I have learned that I do have a heart for international mission work, and I would like very much to spend more time overseas in the future.

For now though, I am very happy to be coming home.

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost : )

2010-11-04T04:58:00.002-07:00

Before I left for Slovakia, someone gave me a book with quotes about travel and service.

I've paged through this book many times, and these are the quotes that have resonated most with me during my time overseas:

All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
Martin Buber

Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.
The Talmud

The world is full of people who seem to have listened to the wrong voice and are now engaged in life-work in which they find no pleasure or purpose and who run the risk of suddenly realizing that they have spent the only years that they are ever going to get in this world doing something which could not matter less to themselves or to anyone else... We must be careful with our lives, for Christ's sake, because it would seem that they are the only lives we are going to have in this puzzling, perilous world, and so they are very precious and what we do with them matters enormously.
Fredrick Buechner, The Hungering Dark

There are some days when no matter what I say it feels like I'm far away in another country and whoever is doing the translating has had far too much to drink.
Brian Andres, Storypeople

Stripped of your ordinary surroundings, your friends, your daily routines, your refrigerator full of food, your closet full of clothes - with all this taken away you are forced into direct experience. Such direct experience inevitably makes you aware of who it is that is having the experience. That's not always comfortable but it is always invigorating.
Michael Crichton

I also thought I would share with you an excerpt about my service abroad from the autobiographical faith statement I wrote for the North Carolina synod:

The time I have spent abroad has been formative. I have been stretched, broken, challenged, and filled by the relationships and service that I have experienced in Slovakia and Peru. I have a new found awareness of who my neighbor is. I have seen the Gospel lived out in a small Slovak town with just as many sheep as people, and I have witnessed acts of self-giving love in the dusty desert of Alto Cayma. I have grown both in confidence and in humility, in faith and in grace. I believe that through the people I have been God has been hard at work shaping me.

And one last quote:

And at the end of all our exploring, we will arrive where we started. And know the place for the first time.
TS Eliot, Little Gidding

My Life in Numbers since August 2009

2010-11-04T04:58:00.001-07:00

421 days outside the US

11 different countries: Slovakia, Poland, Czech Republic, Italy, France, Germany, Austria, Belgium, Hungary, Slovenia, Peru

16 cross-cultural worship experiences: the Lutheran Church in Tisovec, the Catholic church in Tisovec, the Little International Church in Bratislava, the largest Lutheran Church in Poland, the Prague Cathedral, a small Catholic church in Prague, 2 churches in Rome (including the Vatican), the Duomo in Florence, Espiritu Santo church in Florence, one church in Venice, the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, Martin Luther's childhood church in Germany, a cave church in Budapest, the little church in Alto Cayma, and the Cathedral in Arequipa.

1 train wreck

3 international doctor's visits (one was my first ever trip to the hospital)

1 night spent homeless on New Years in Austria with one of my best friends

1 card made in the cardshop (with much help and after a lot of struggling...)

263 Slovak students

1.5 different time zones (6 hours difference in SK, and 1 hour difference in Peru - only because of daylight savings time)

3 pisco sours in Peru, countless bottles of Slivovica in Slovakia

1 Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter away from home

2 weekends at the cabin in Kokava Linia in Slovakia (one of my favorite places)

107 blog entries (this one included)

56 hours (approximately) as a passenger on the combi

34 one-on-one meetings with Peruvian youth and/or their parents

96 hours of plane travel (by the time I get back to the US on Sunday)

and an infinity of memories and friendships that I will have forever

Meghan, estas en tu casa.

2010-11-04T04:56:00.000-07:00

This was one of the first things Charito, my Peruvian mom, said to me.

"Meghan, you're in your house."

She continues to remind that her house, is my house too.

When I shared with Charo that I had decided to come home, she said that she would miss me, and then she said, "Pero recuerda, esta casa es tuya tambien." But remember, this house is yours too. She continued to tell me I could spend come back to my house and my family whenever I want - spend the night or to spend a year.

I realized today that you all have never seen pictures of my family.

Here they are - This is my mom, Charito, and my sister, Pia

These are the Gorditos, Gonzalo and Pia

I also have more family from Peru that I need to share with you.

This is my sister, Ariela and her mother. My parents are sponsoring her through the Acercandonos program, and I got to meet her for the first time on Wednesday.

When I shared with her that we were "hermanitas" (sisters) she started laughing. She probably couldn't imagine that she was a sister to such a tall, white redhead. While we were talking, she put her hands over her face, and it was difficult to understand what she was saying.

I asked her, "Ariela, why do you have your hands over your face?"

"Because," she answered, "I don't want you to see me cry."

"Are you sad?" I asked.

"No," she answered, "I have so much happiness inside that it's pushing tears out."

And, yesterday Tais, the daughter of Lurdes, one of my friends in the office, asked me if I would be the Godmother of her confirmation. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of her to share with you all just yet, but I wanted to tell you a little about her. Tais is getting ready to be 16 years old, and she is in secondary school. Despite numerous set backs and challenges in her life, she continues to work hard towards a better future. She hopes to be a lawyer some day. I enjoy Tais because she laughs easily and she listens to the people around her. She's a unique teenager, and I am very proud to be her Godmother.

Not many people can say they have three homes: one in Charlotte, NC, one in Tisovec, SK, and one in Cayma, Peru. I am thankful not only for the houses I have lived in, but the friends and families I have around the world that have made these places home for me.

The Combi is Good for Thinking

2010-11-03T05:28:00.001-07:00

Over the last few days, I have received many emails from people in the United States. Thank you for your prayers and well wishes. They are needed and appreciated.

I am leaving Peru in three days, and I am sad to do so. I have fallen in love with the people I work with and the people I serve. Many people have tried to assure me that I am not letting people down by leaving early. The fact of the matter is that my early departure does leave a hole that I have had not enough time to teach others how to fill. This is difficult, both for me, and for the Acercandonos community. However, there are two things of which I am confident:

1. I know I need to return home. I have to live in my body for the rest of my life, and this means I need to take care of it.

2. God's grace is made perfect through the "holes" of this world. God fills what is empty and lacking in ways that we don't expect or can even imagine. I know that God is up to something good in Alto Cayma.

On my combi rides in the morning, I have found myself thinking about the ways God works in this world and how we can discern what it is that he wants for us. I don't believe God inflicts painful things upon us to move us along. After all, God the Father is inherently creative not destructive. God the Son is redemptive and God the Holy Spirit is sanctifying and life-giving, not life-taking. God is not the cause of divorce, abuse, job loss, or health problems. I think that bad things, tough things, painful things happen in this world because the world we live in is not perfect and is sinful and broken. However, I believe that God works through what is broken in this world, in our relationships and in our bodies to bring about healing, fullness, holiness, and peace.

As I walk through my faith journey, I am not so certain that the easiest path is always the right one. Rarely in life do things fall into place perfectly. (And if life really was like that, I think I would be bored.) However, I also think part of the definition of wisdom is knowing when you are supposed to fight for something and when you are supposed to gracefully accept that this, what you want so badly, is not for you right now.

I pray that God continues to be patient with me and with all of us, and I pray that he might teach us wisdom.

I Will See You Soon

2010-10-31T06:52:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, I have experienced some health problems that mean I need to cut my stay in Peru short. While I was running last weekend, I started to feel pain in my left side. It wasn't as if it was debilitating, drop-to-the-ground pain, but it did take my breath away. I immediately came home, and the next day, I scheduled a doctor's appointment.

At the doctor's office, I learned I have multiple cysts in both of my ovaries. Ovarian cysts are fairly common, and many, many women have them. Unfortunately, I have quite a few. The reason I experienced pain on my run was because one of my cysts ruptured. I also had leftover "liquido libre" (free liquid) in my body that was irritating to my insides. The doctor tossed around a syndrome or two that might be causing these problems. She also gave me medication to help me heal and, hopefully, to reduce the number of cysts I have.

From my doctor experience in Slovakia, I have learned the hard way that you should always check foreign doctor's prescriptions. When I arrived home, I checked the internet and I learned that the medication I had been given was not approved in the US because it's pretty tough on the body. After talking with a friend in pharmacy school and a pharmacist, we decided that a month's worth of medication would not be enough to cause serious problems. However, I do need to have more appropriate medication. I also need to have some tests done to figure out what the underlying issue that causing the cysts is. Even more than that, there is a small chance that another cyst will rupture. Not all cyst ruptures are as complication-free as what I experienced. Health care in Peru is challenging, and in many places it is sub-standard. I have no desire to have complications from a cyst rupture and need a Peruvian hospital visit or even an operation.

While I need to stress that this is in no way an emergency, this is something that I need to have taken care of sooner rather than later. After talking with my parents and with Eric, we decided that it was better for my health to come home. This was a not an easy decision; however, I do think that it is the best one for me.

I have one more week left in Peru, and I will add to this blog before I leave. Please come back and check my entries - hopefully, I can share more with you about the people I have come to love.

I am both happy and sad to say that I will see all of you very soon.

I Have A New Sister

2010-10-31T06:32:00.001-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, my dad shared with me that he would like to sponsor a person from Alto Cayma through the Acercandonos sponsorship program. I looked through the files of people on our waiting list and saw that we had a little girl named Ariela who liked to play chess. Because my dad also plays chess, I thought he would enjoy this girl.

Ariela lives in a house with a cement roof and cement floors. She and her family have access to running water and electrcity. She has three other brothers and sisters, and her family has monthly income of 500 soles or a little less than $180. She celebrated her eleventh birthday on October 29th, and she in the the fifth grade of primary school.

This is Ariela, and I get to meet her this week and tell her that we are sisters!

Adventures in Eating Part II

2010-10-31T06:09:00.001-07:00

I mentioned in an earlier blog post that I was looking forward to trying cuy. In Peru, cuy is a typical dish. In the United States, cuy is cooked guinea pig.

Victor's daughter Nikole celebrated her fifteenth birthday this week. As some of you know, in Central and South American, birthday number fifteen is very special. It is also called a quinceaneara, and it marks the passage from childhood to womanhood. Traditionally, the family of the new fifteen year old, hosts a party to present their daughter. Nikole didn't want a party - she asked for a laptop! As you can imagine, computers like these are very, very expensive for families in Alto Cayma. However, the parties are usually just as expensive. Victor thought his daughter was pretty smart to ask for something like this, so he and his wife agreed.

On the day of Nikole's birthday, I was invited to go out to lunch with the family. Nikole's favorite dish is cuy. Of course, I jumped at the chance to try guinea pig.

Friends, this is what was on my plate.

This is Nicole showing all of you in the US what cuy looks like.

Much to my dismay, this is what the underside of cuy looks like.

I really was nervous to try cooked guinea pig. Especially when I saw its teeth, claws and liver were still in tact. It definitely doesn't taste like chicken, and I'm not quite sure how to describe it. I did, however, learn that it has zero cholesterol and is an incredibly healthy meat.

I think I put a serious dent into the cuy corpse. I did draw a line at the head. I could not eat the ears, etc. I was also convinced that it was looking at me.

I asked Nikole if I after I tried cuy, I could be considered a real Peruvian. The family overhead and laughed. Yes, they told me, you are Peruvian now : ).

Vacation for Victor

2010-10-22T11:49:00.002-07:00

This week my Peruvian boss, Senor Victor, left for his first vacation in four years of working for Association Serving Alto Cayma. Victor has six-day work weeks, and the amount of hours he works is incredible. For this reason, I am thrilled that he is going to spend a week in Lima away from the office.

I was able to go to the airport with Victor’s family to see him off. While Victor did a lot of travelling solo in his twenties, he hasn’t been away for an extended period of time since he had children. Everyone in the family was a little nervous. Victor’s youngest child, Emmanuel, was especially worried. He asked his dad to leave a picture of himself at the house so he could look at it. This was the first time his dad had every gone anywhere without him for more than a day or two. However, when I mentioned to Emmanuel that was the “Señor” de la casa for a week, he seemed to perk up a little.

I am excited to hear about Victor´s adventures with his family in Lima. Emmanuel and I are making a ¨Welcome Home¨ sign to greet Victor with when he comes back.

Rain, rain, don’t go away! I know you won’t come again another day.

2010-10-22T11:49:00.001-07:00

Perhaps a better title for this blog entry is: The Weather in Southern Peru

I have been living in Alto Cayma for almost three months, and I have experienced exactly seven minutes of light drizzle. In North Carolina, we would call this a drought of epic proportions. In Arequipa, Peru, we call this normal. The weather here is a little different than what I’m used to. While you in the United States are in the middle of fall, the people in Peru are in the middle of spring. While you are cooling down, we are just starting to heat up.

As I was thinking about the differences in seasons today, it occurred to me that this is my year without an autumn. I experienced the end of winter and springtime in Slovakia, summer for three weeks in the US and then I came to South America for the tail end of their Peruvian winter. Now it’s springtime for me until December, when I will return to the US in time for another winter.
The sun in Alto Cayma is very, very strong. The skies are always blue, but there isn’t much cloud cover. Because most of the land is sandy, the sun reflects off the ground and, at times, makes sunburns inevitable. I am always a little pink after a day in the sun ---- and that’s with a sombrero and sunscreen. If I don’t have my hat and I am outside for more than twenty minutes, I will have a sunburn by evening.

Today is one of those rare days where the sky is a little grey, and it looks like it could rain. I am hoping for, praying for and dreaming of rain : ).

In Alto Cayma, I am Señorita Meghan

2010-10-22T11:48:00.000-07:00

“Good morning Señoriiiiiiiiiiiiita Meghaaaaaaan!”

Every Friday I teach at two different high schools, and these are the words that my students greet me with when I enter the classroom.

“Good morning,” I usually answer them.

Most of the time I enjoy teaching in the high schools in Alto Cayma; although, I have noticed that classroom respect and etiquette is very different than in Slovakia and in the US.

Because of all the people in the Acercandonos sponsorship program, and the students I teach at two high schools, it is a rare thing for me to walk through the streets or ride the combis and not hear, “Hola Senorita Meghan!” from someone. Whenever I see one of my students as I’m walking through the streets in Alto Cayma, it is my habit to speak with him or her in English. I have found that I have two groups of students: one group of students is terrified to speak to me in English. Usually these students will literally run when they see me coming (I usually run after them) or they will hide and as I walk by I hear them whispering, “Shhhh. No quiero hablar ingles!” (Shhh. I don’t want to speak English). Usually, I sneak up behind them with a “Boo!” and “How are you?”

Thankfully, I have a second group of students who love practicing their English with a Gringa.

It is good to be back in a classroom.

A Combi Adventure

2010-10-10T07:36:00.000-07:00

When you're main form of transportation is of the public variety, your life can never be boring. Unfortuantely this past week, my life was a little too exciting.

Last Tuesday, after three days of rest and recooperation, I was feeling like a caged animal. There is only so much rest a sick person - or a healthy person - can have. So, I decided to go across town to my weekly Spanish lesson.

At three in the afternoon, I was caught up in the most-lunch rush hour as the Peruvians were making their way back to work after their extended lunch hour. For this reason, the combis were crowded. I counted 28 people (including the driver) on my combi. Unfortunately, Tuesday was an unusually warm spring day, and the windows on the combi were closed. I had just finished eating lunch (read: a piece of bread that I was able to stomach) and between the heat, the smells of my fellow passengers, and the maniac fast-slow-stop-go combi driving, I was starting to feel a little sick. Five minutes passed, and it seemed the driver was in even more of a hurry than before. My stomach started rolling, and I recognized it as the sign that I was about to revisit my lunch. I wasn't sure what to do. People in the combi were literally sitting on each other's laps, and there was no safe place to turn if I needed to be sick. So, I didn't the only thing I could think of. I called out to the driver, "Senor Conductor! Senor Conductor! Si no puede manejar con mas cuidado, voy a botar en toda la combi." (Roughly translated: Mr. Diver, Mr. Driver! If you can't drive with more care, I am going to throw up all over the combi.)

Immediately, the people on the combi started shifting away. The combi assitant, who rides in the back with the people to help open and close the door and take people's fares, started yelling, "Stop! Stop! Stop!" Almost immediately, the combi slowed to a corner and stopped. "Tu," (you), they said adressing me, "OUT!" Shocked, I looked around. "Yo?" (Me?), I asked innocently. "Out!" They said again. I gathered up my things and stepped out of the combi. That's when it occurred to me: They're kicking me off! Flabbergasted, I remember thinking Can they do this?.

Yep, they can.

There Are Angels in My Life Who Keep Their Wings Hidden

2010-10-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

I know that there are angels in my life. I am certain of this because I saw feathers this weekend.

Saturdays are usually our busiest days here in Alto Cayma. Saturdays are the days in which we have a total group meeting with every sponsoree (and usually their family), youth group meetings, English classes, college sponsorship meetings, etc. This past Saturday, like every other, was busy.

I arrived at the church where we have our monthly meetings, and within two minutes of setting foot inside the nave, my stomach started gurgling. Nothing hurt, but it was an odd, rolling, sea-sick feeling. I ignored it because I was trying to round up my English class - the kids and I were singing two songs in English at the beginning of the meeting.

I ended up throwing up before the kids took the stage. Thankfully, I was able to help direct the group with my partner in crime and coteacher, Isela, and I barely made it through "The More We Get Together" and "Shake Another Hand" before I sprinted to bathroom again. At this point, I was simply confused. What in the world did I do to myself? It was a little ridiculous. One hour later, though, I was still making regular trips to the bathroom - until finally I decided simply stretching out on the bathroom floor was more efficient. Isela sat with me the entire time. She even ran to the store to get gum so that I could get that awful sick taste out of my mouth. And when I realized that I just wanted to be in Peruvian home in my Peruvian bed instead of on a church floor in Alto Cayma, Isela took a taxi with me and made sure I got home okay. She even held a bag for me when I sick in the car. Angel #1.

I got home and things seemed to settle for a little bit. I changed into pajamas but immediately started getting cold chills. Thinking I had a fever, a rummaged around for the farenheit thermometer mom bought me a year and a half ago before I left for Europe. I was shocked to see that my body temperature was 93.1. At this point, I was already curled up under two wool blankets and comforter on my bed. Unfortunately, I couldn't stay that way for long because my stomach kept rolling.

It got to the point where I was making a trip to the bathroom every twenty minutes - for vomiting and diarrhea. Then, I would pass out on my bed for ten to fifteen minutes, and begin again.

After about two hours of this, my host mom said, "Meghan, I think you need to go to the hospital." "Charo," I told her, "I want one more hour." I have spent some time in emergency rooms thanks to my accident prone nature - usually for broken bones and stitches, but I have never actually been to a hospital for medicine and IVs and such. The idea of going to a hospital in Peru didn't make my stomach feel any better. However, after an hour, I realized that this was not going to get better on its own. "Charo," I told her, "Vamos."

I sat with my host mom in the hospital for about thirty minutes before I was seen - not too bad all things considered! I knew that I was really dehyrdated and I remember asking everyone (doctors, nurses, people in the hallway) if I could please have some water. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long --- I was immediately hooked up to an IV and, over a period of a couple of hours, had almost 2 liters of water added to my system. The doctors were also quick to wrap me up in warm blankets. What a difference water and a little warmth makes! I was nowhere near 100%, but I felt like a new person.

As I lay in the bed in a room I shared with several other sick people in the middle of the night on Saturday, I kept apologizing to my host mom. "Charo, Disculpame," I told her. "I am so sorry that I am keeping you up." Charo's response, "You're my daughter. Where else would I be?" Angel #2.

I was too sick and tired to wish that I were at home. It didn't matter where I was, I just wanted to feel better. In the hospital, Gloria called to check on me because she hadn't heard from me since I had gone home that afternoon. Charo spoke with her first, and then passed the phone to me. I don't remember anything that I said to her, but I do remember her saying to me in English, "I love you." Angel #3. That was exactly what I needed to hear.

The doctors ran some tests, and ended up sending me home with tests to take care of in the morning. It turns out that I had a stomach infection. My doctor was unsure whether or not I had a parasite --- so he decided to treat for everything. I have antibiotics, pain medicine, anti-nausea medicine, a sedative to help me sleep, and a pill that helps build good and healthy bacteria up in my system --- and guess how much all that cost? Just under $80 (including the hospital visit!). I was shocked.

The doctor told me I should rest for three days, but after that, I was fine to do what I wanted. On Sunday, I slept pretty much around the clock. Today (Monday) was day #2 of rest, and it was definitely healing. Tomorrow, however, I think I might climb the walls. I am feeling much, much better.

Some of you may know that I have a fascination with angels. I love the image of Michael the Archangel protecting people, and I love to read Gabriel's messages during Advent and at Chrismtas time. One of my favorite verses is from Hebrews 13:2 --- "Don't neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it."

There are angels in my life who have shown me love and grace. They don't look like angels from the outside, but I am certain it's only because they've found a way to keep their wings hidden.

Look Ma! No Hands!

2010-09-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

I am in love and I don't care who knows it.

This is Vicki's little boy Mattias. And he has my heart right now.

Vicki is one of the chicas in the cardshop. Every day, she brings Mattias, whom I affectionately call "El Senor," to work. Whenever I need a break, I like to play with the baby.

When I first came to Peru, I was fascinated by the way in which Peruvian mothers carry their babies. Using a special blanket called a lliclla, moms in Peru carry their children on their back. You can't go anywhere in Arequipa and especially Alto Cayma without seeing a mom and her baby.

A couple of weeks ago, I bought a lliclla because I wanted to learn to carry a baby like a Peruvian mama. I announced to the girls in the cardshop that I was hoping to learn to "cargar" (carry my baby on my back). They laughed and handed me a 2 liter jug of water wrapped in a blanket. "Practice with this first," they told me.
Dutifully and carefully, I practiced and practiced and practiced.

To cargar is not easy. Here's how it works:

First, you lay the lliclla on the table somewhat crooked. You want to have a corner at the top, a corner at the bottom, and a corner on eaither side. Then, you place the baby in the middle of the blanket, and fold the bottom corner over the baby.

Then, gather the two blanket corners on either side of the baby and bring them together.

Carefully, fling the baby over your shoulder and onto your back.

Get the baby settled, and tie the two corners into a knot around your shoulders.

And that's how it's done.

Last week, after a lot of practicing, I was invited to cargar Mattias.

Here I am, tying the knot in the lliclla with the baby on my back.

This is El Senor. And here I am, an Apprentice Peruvian Mama.

This is how you "descargar" - or take the baby off your back.

Of course, I kissed El Senor and thanked him for his trust after I was done : )

Here's Mattias, playing peek a boo with the world on his mom's back. What a life!

Adventures in Eating

2010-09-18T04:04:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, my host sister Ana Lu (who was in town from the weekend from Lima) announced that she had a craving for anticuchos. Upon hearing this, the rest of my family jumped at her suggestion and announced that we would all go in caravan for anitcuchos. It was 11:00pm at night, and I had already eaten dinner, but because I had never tried anticuchos before, I decided to join the fam.

On our way over to the restuarant, I asked Ana Lu what exactly anticuchos was made from. Before she could answer me, my host mom interrupted and said in Spanish, "Meghan, you're going to love anticuchos. It's the heart of Arequipa." And with that, both of my host sisters started giggling. "It is?" I asked, surprised. "But what's it made of?" My host mom said, "All good things. Don't worry. It's a food that's close to my heart." Again, spontaneous giggling. "Okay," I said, suddenly nervous but not sure why.

When we arrived and the food was brought out to us, my host family asked what I thought of anticuchos.

"It's good." I assured them while I chewed the tough meat in my mouth.
"Do you really think so?" Mama Charito asked. "Yes," I answered.

It was at that point that Ana Lu leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Meghan, anitcuchos is made of cow heart." I am pretty sure I swalled. Audibly.

Well, I can cross cow's heart off my list of Peruvian experiences.

Cuy (cooked guinea pig) is next.

I'll try anything once : )

What's in a Name?

2010-09-12T07:22:00.000-07:00

Pumpkin. Boo. Dear (although, in many households it is usually preceded by a "Yes.") Baby. Sweet cheeks.

Some of you may know that I am fascinated with terms of endearment - especially in other languages. I think they are a riot, and that they give us insight into other people and other cultures.

Slovakia had wealth of terms of endearment. One of the more common ones was "chrobacik" which means bug. Another, one that I use for my boyfriend is "zlato," which is the Slovak equivalent of our "honey" and means "gold." Unfortunately, my boyfriend is a smart aleck and returns the favor by calling me "Mega-phone."

When I was in Austria, I learned from Heidi's old host brother that, in German, a common term of endearment is "schatzi" which means treasure. Another, one that is used for a little child, is hosenscheisser which means "my little pants-crapper." HA! Can you imagine?! (I'm sorry mom, but I am totally adopting this for your future grandchildren.)

Two weeks ago, I was having dinner with my host mom and Pia, my sister. Charito asked Pia, "What are you doing with gordito tonight?" I was shocked! "Gordito" means "the little fatty." I thought Charito liked Pia's boyfriend, Gonzalo (who is NOT fat), but after hearing this, I assumed that was not the case.

A few minutes later, after Pia shared their plans, she got a phone call. "Hello gordito," she said. At this point my jaw about hit the table. "Charito," I hissed, while Pia was talking, "Why are you calling Gonzalo gordito?" Charito looked at me blankly and said, "Because in Peru it's what we call people we care about." I was flabbergasted. Who in their right mind would want to call someone they loved "my little chunker?!" But, it's true. Gonzalo even calls Pia, "Gordita." Both Charito and Pia thought the fact that I was appalled was hilariously funny.

A few minutes later when Gonzalo showed up at the door, Charito asked him and Pia if they would like to stay for dessert. Both said no, and when Charito reported this to me in the kitchen, my response was to shake my head and say, "Go figure. The gorditos don't want dessert."

Charito died laughing.

6 Weeks In...

2010-09-12T07:08:00.000-07:00

Today marks the end of my sixth week in Peru. Here are 10 of my first reflections on life and culture here in Cayma where I live:

1. People iron their laundry. All of it. And you might not believe it, but I even caught my host mom ironing my underwear.
2. For breakfast, it is common to make juice with a little bit of water and a blend of fresh fruits. I love this. And I can't wait to "try this at home."
3. Peruvians - yound and old - party hard and stay out late on the weekends. My host mom is just over fifty and she got in at 2am last night. Go figure.
4. It is Peruvian law that employees must work 48 hours a week. Many work more. However, they day is structured a little differently. They got to work from 9-2ish. Then they come home for lunch (the biggest meal of the day) with their families and for time to relax until 4. Then they go back to work until 7:30 or 8. When they come home for the day, they usually eat a small meal and my family normally has tea.
5. Here in Cayma, you can walk EVERYWHERE. To church, to the grocery store, to the gym, to the pool - you name it and it's close by. (I walked everywhere in Tisovec last year, but there was really nowhere to walk to.) In Cayma, there are always people on the move.
6. Many women choose to "cargar" their children. This means, they carry them in a blanket, called a lliclla, on their back. I am currently in the process of learning how to do this, and I am hoping to explain more in a blog later this week.
7. I love mangoes. They are my new favorite thing.
8. As is true of most places in Central and South America, time is relative. People are habitually late, but in the eyes of the Peruvians it seems that they not so much worried about being somewhere "on time" but "in time." I am slowly starting to adjust my internal clock to allow for the fact that everyone makes an entrance ten to twenty minutes late.
9. This is not surprising, but is worth stating: everyone is Catholic.
10. As in Slovakia, I have a new name - one that I just started being called this week: Meg-ita. This is a diminuitive form of "Meghan" and is used for friends and family.

The Art of Listening

2010-09-12T06:37:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember a post called "The First Act of Love" I wrote at the very beginning of last year. In this blog update, I discussed the addage: "the first act of love is careful listening" - especially in regards to post-communist society. In order to love the people in Slovakia - no matter how strange or backwards they may seem - it is important, first, to listen to their stories and their history.

Well, I ran across another addage about listening when I was preparing for Nuevos Horizontes meeting. I think it very much so applies to people of all ages but especially teenagers and especially teenagers in Alto Cayma. The addage states:
"Listening is so close to love that most people can't tell the difference."

One of the things I get to do in Alto Cayma is train Lurdes and Tulita in how to work with teenagers - how to lead small group conversations, how to earn their trust, and how to guide them in a way that doesn't simply tell them they what to do. For me, working with teenagers (and people in general) begins with listening. In Alto Cayma, many, many children grow up somewhat on their own because their parents work hours upon hours simply to make a couple of dollars. Many families struggle with issues such as abuse and alcoholism - and sadly, these situations often discapacitate listening in the home. It is imperative that these teens' ideas and dreams are not only listened to but affirmed as well.

Tulita and Lurdes aren't the only people learning - the youth are learning as well. I am slowly teaching them how to have small group conversation so that we can create a safe and comfortable space for teens to talk about their lives. Normally when I do this, it starts in a somewhat silly way: with Would You Rather questions. For those of you who have worked with me in the past, you are more than familiar with this set of questions. For those of you who have not, I will share with you a sample from the youth meeting we had yesterday.

Would you rather drink Inca Cola (a soda unique to Peru) or Coca Cola?
Would you rather have to say everything you think (EVERYTHING!) or never speak again?
Would you rather never brush your teeth or never wash your face?
Would you rather have diarrhea or be constipated?
Would you rather live forever or die tomorrow?

As you can see, these questions fluctuate from the ridiculous and the silly to more serious ones that can lead to fruitful discussion. The kids in Alto Cayma loved them. In our conversation yesterday, we moved from Would You Rather questions to Highs (something good that happened in your life this week) and Lows (something bad that happened in your lives this week). I encourage Victor, Lurdes and Tulita to write the kids' highs and lows down for several reasons:
1. to show the teens we are listening
2. so that we can remember what's going on in their lives and ask them about these things the next time we see them.
3. so that if there are red flags that we need to follow-up on, we can remember

One of the other things I asked the youth to do yesterday was fill out a personal inventory. In this inventory, I asked the kids questions about themselves and about what they would like to talk about. A random selection of questions from the inventory includes:
- From a list of activities, choose the ones that most interest you.
- From a list of adjectives, choose 5 that best describe you.
(Some of the adjectives include: ambitious, trust-worthy, cautious, introverted, extroverted, stubbourn, talkative, calm, self-confident, energetic, resentful,lonely, kind, worried, tired...)
- Something that makes me laugh is...
- Today I am most happy about...
- My biggest worry in life is...
- My best friend is... because...
- Do you agree with this statement: Most of the time, I feel happy and healthy.
Why or why not?
- When I grow up, I want to be...
- Do you have an adult in your life that you can trust? Who is this person?
- From a list of themes, circle all those you would most like to talk about in youth group (These include: body image, my future and goals, things that happen in my life sexuality and relationships, family, friends, my talents, peer pressure, anger management, pop culture, communication, hope/faith, popular music, drugs and alcohol, how to help my friends when they have problems)

The results from the inventories were fascinating. I was little worried that a group of youth who were used to playing a lot of soccer and volleyball and youth meetings would be less than excited to fill out this quesitonnaire. However, I was excited to find that this wasn't the case - the kids took the inventories very seriously and answered them honestly.

I am still analyzing their answers; however, preliminarily, I have found:
- their is a 50/50 divide between kids that can name an adult they trust and kids who cannot
- the main worries are: family problems, school & exams, the death of a loved one, and future life after high school
- a handful or two of kids circled lonely on their adjective description list
- a smaller handful circled worried
- some kids did not feel they agreed with the statement about happiness and health
- we have a bunch of future mechanics, engineers, teachers, and business professionals on our hands!
- the themes that a majority of kids most want to discuss include: my future and goals, sexuality and relationships, my talents, and hope and faith.

As part of a way to connect with the kids - to talk about would you rathers, school, friends and relationships and any problems they may be having, I now have office hours (what I call "Horas de Presencia" or "Hours of Presence) during which I can be found (with cookies) in the office to be present with and for the youth. This Wednesday will be my first Wednesday, and I hoping it goes well. I will keep you posted.

Nuevos Horizontes

2010-09-12T06:18:00.000-07:00

My primary responsibility in Alto Cayma is working with a community youth group called Nuevos Horizontes. The youth are between the ages of 12 and 18. Usually, we gather together on Saturdays.

This group is founded in memory of a very brave teenager in Alto Cayma. A couple of years ago, like some teenagers do, this teenager in Alto Cayma got involved with a bad crowd. Gloria, Jim, and Victor worked very hard to help this kid, but nothing really seemed to be working. Finally, they decided to kick him out of the Acercandonos program because of his behavior. For this teenager, this was his wakeup. He came a couple of days later requesting a meeting with Gloria, Jim and Victor. In the meeting, he apologized and vowed to change. Because he seemed sincere, this teenager was offerred the grace of a second change. Sadly later that week, this boy was nowhere to be found. The entire neighborhood searched for him. After a few days, his body was found at the bottom of a ravine. It seems he was pushed. Everyone thinks that the teen was tyring to disassociate himself from the gang he had been apart of and that the gang did not appreciate this. Jim told me that they buried this young man on Easter Sunday.

From the life and death of this teen, the community learned something very important: It is important for responsible, caring adults to be involved in the lives of teenagers so that they can help protect and guide them as they navigate their paths to adulthood. Gloria, Jim and Victor founded this group as way to do just this for the youth in Alto Cayma.

This group is led by Victor, Tulita and Lurdes. Normally there are about 30 youth who participate, and the group is hoping to grow more. They have gone on outings such as the circus and have hiked the mountains in the area. They have helped to clean up the streets of Alto Cayma, and they have had psychologists come in to talk aobut drugs and alcohol, and self esteem. The group already does a lot of formative things, and I am happy to help in continuing to add shape to Nuevos Horizontes.

Salir Adelante

2010-08-26T05:14:00.001-07:00

One of the groups I most enjoy working with so far is called Salir Adelante (Getting Ahead). The Salir Adelante group is made up of college students who are incredibly talented, driven, motivated, creative, and intelligent. These kids are truly seeking to get ahead in life through education, and with the help of sponsors in the United States, we have students studying medicine, chemistry culinary arts, education, accounting,nursing and much more.

I met this group for the first time last weekend and was immediately impressed with their attitudes, their sense of humor and their qualifications. These guys work hard.

The people in Salir Adelante meet once a month to turn in their receipts, receive this month's education stipend, and to spend time with one another.

After business is discussed at the meetings, this is the kind of stuff we get to do together:

We celebrate each other's birthdays.

We play games and have competitions.
(This one involved turning two of the students into mummies with toilet paper.)

The students give charlas (talks) about any topic in the world.
This particular charla was given by three of the men in our group and it was about the history of Arequipa. (It also involved a puppet show.)

And at this particular meeting we played human bingo as way to get to know each other more. Thanks to this game, I learned who has never changed a diaper, who has tried grilled donkey, who has a scar more than 2 inches long, who can tell a good joke, and who my fellow left-handers are in the group.

I very, very much enjoy the people in Salir Adelante, and I am excited to be working with them to develop their group more.

Creaciones Angeles Cardshop

2010-08-26T04:44:00.000-07:00

One of the things I get to do on a regular basis is work with and visit the girls in the cardshop.

For those of you who don't know the history of the cardshop, this is a minsitry that Gloria started years ago. When she and Jim were first coming to Alto Cayma through rotary club, Gloria decided to use some of her time volunteering to teach women a craft or handiwork that they could do to earn money. As Jim and Gloria began spending more time in Alto Cayma, the handiwork lessons became more detailed and gathered more interest. Over time, this evolved into the cardshop as we know it today.

Jim and Gloria host the cardshop in the downstairs of their Alto Cayma residence. Every day from 9-1, 15 or so ladies come to create beautiful handmade cards. Gloria and Jim then take these cards back with them when they come home to the US twice a year, and they spend their time selling the cards. Typically one card will sell for $4. The girls receive a paycheck from the profits of the cards.

This program is almost completely run by the ladies of the cardshop. They have a president and a treasurer, and together with the rest of the girls, they take inventory, buy supplies, manage money, and run a business.

The girls that Gloria and Jim have hired to work in the cardshop have undergone extensive psychological testing and training. They have had classes on team building and self esteem. Many of the girls who work in the cardshop use the money they earn to put food on their families' tables and go to school. We have two girls who are studying to be English teachers, one studying to be an elementary teacher and another who has one more year left of nursing school. The cardshop has made it possible not only for these women and their families to eat, but to go to school and have careers. In the process, the cardshop has helped to mold wonderful women leaders.

These are the women I get to work with:

The women use many, many techniques to make beautiful cards. These are my two favroite techniques. This first set is called boldado in Spanish. In English, this refers to an embroidery technique in which the cards have designs sewn into them.

The second technique I like is called Iris. For these cards, the women cut up very small pieces of paper and lay them out in a spiral pattern.

Most of the time when I work in the cardshop, the women let me cut strips or trace lines with a ruler so that they can be as precise as possible when formatting cards. Recently, however, I received a promotion. The girls decided it was time for me to learn how to embroider. They started with "algo facil" - something easy.

This was the first card I learned how to embroider:

The girls had already punched holes in the card, and my job was to sew the wedding rings in the center using thread. Would you believe it took me an hour and a half to sew the rings?! The second card was worse. And by the end I was cross-eyed and ready for a nap. I'm hoping that as I grow in the relationship with the girls, I also grow in card-making ability.

If you are interested in these cards, there are many, many more to choose from.
You can check out the card catalogue at www.serving-alto-cayma.info.
This is a wonderful way to support and empower the people of Alto Cayma.

The Acercandonos Store

2010-08-26T04:36:00.000-07:00

On Thursdays, I go down the Acercandonos Office (the office which facilitates the sponsorships of people in Alto Cayma) to help prepare food that will be sold the next day. Victor, Tulita and Lourdes buy food in bulk - typically sugar, flour, soy powder, beans, rice, toothpaste, soap, etc - and every week, they divide the food from one 50 kilo (110ish pound) bag into one or two kilo bags. The food is sold at cost to the people, and it is much less expensive than even the cheapest store in Alto Cayma. Most families are able to use some of the money their sponsor gives each month for their groceries.

Here we are dividing the food in bags:

More often than not, I end up wearing more sugar and flour than I think we put in the bags.

On Friday, between the hours of 4 and 6, the people in the Acercandonos program come to the office for their food.

This is David, an American visitor, and I packing a bag of groceries for a woman in our program.

One by one, we invite people into the stockroom and we ask them what they would like to have to eat. I appreciate this program because it is not a handout. We help parents and the elderly budget for meals and we empower them to choose what it is that their family would like to eat.

The Faces of Alto Cayma

2010-08-25T17:46:00.001-07:00

So you're in Peru, but just was is it that you do all day?

This is a good question, one that I am sure many of you are asking. If you are one of those people, don't worry. There are days that I ask myself the same thing.
So far, not one day in Peru has been the same. However, now that I am getting settled, I am also starting to develop a routine.

I thought it would be best, before I share with you the ministries that I am involved in, to share with you the faces of the people that I work with every day.

This is a picture of Gloria and Jim that shamelessly stole off the internet. Gloria is from Colombia and Jim is from Michigan. They have been married for the last 44 years, and they have two houses: one in Peru and one in Huntersville, NC. They live part time in both places. These are the people are work for : )

Lidia, the Peruvian woman in between the American visitors, is 26 years old and oversees the Salir Adelante (college student) program. Lidia is a fabulous dancer, an all-around great person, and she is learning English.

This is Victor. He doesn't normally wear a bib - (he was at a fancy restaurant where the food is cooked in on your plate in front of you.) Victor is charge of the Acercandonos program. This means he oversees 240 people who are sponsored by padrinos (Godparents)in the United States. I have been here for almost a month, and I have discovered that Victor wears many hats - he is dad, he is doctor, he is logistician, he is nutrtionist, he is social worker and counselor, he is financial advisor. Victor supports the people in the Acercandonos program in every possible way. He also runs the Acercandonos youth group. I am one of Victor's biggest fans.

Tulita and Lurdes work for Victor in the Acercandonos program. Together, they visit the houses of each and every sponsored person every two months. They too wear many different hats.

So, these are the faces of the people I work with in Alto Cayma. Over the next couple of blog entries, I will begin to highlight some of the things I do every day.

My Host Mom Has Been Holding Out On Me

2010-08-20T04:56:00.000-07:00

So, my host mother's name is Rosario. In Spanish, however, Rosario is a very formal name. Normally the Rosarios of Peru go by "Charo." I affectionately call my Peruvian mother, Mama Charito.

Mama Charito takes very, very good care of me. She packs my lunches every day, and even helps me with laundry on the weekend. When I come home in the evenings, dinner is ready for me on the table. (Lunch is the main meal in South America, Charo and her daughter come home and eat a huge meal together at 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I am gone at this time, so Charo saves some of the lunch they have for my dinner, which I eat when I come home around 6:30. At that time Charo and Pia are usually back at work and school.)

Every morning Mama Charito and I eat breakfast together. Usually, I have some sort of fruit - grandilla, chirimoya, tumba, banana, etc - and a freshly-baked roll from the bakery just down the street. Charito also makes what she calls "jugito" (little juice). To prepare jugito, Charo throws melons, pineapples, mangoes, and papayas into the blender and adds a little bit of water. It's a smoothie of sorts, and I love it. Over breakfast, I practice my Spanish by talking with Charo. Sometimes we watch the news and I tell her what I understand. Sometimes she asks me about my day, and sometimes I ask her about hers. At first breakfast conversations were painful. They required a lot of hand gestures and repetition. In the last couple of weeks, they've gotten easier --- but still, I am reminded every morning of how much I have to learn in Spanish. Charito is usually very patient with me. She is always willing to explain herself in multiple different ways, if necessary, until I understand. And, if I jumble my grammar too much, she cocks her head, smiles and then tells me to try again so she can understand. Sometimes, I end up mumbling to myself wishing someone spoke a little English.

Well, the other day, I asked Charo a question in the car and I realized I had asked it in English. I quickly started re-framing the question in Spanish, but before I could, Charo answered me in perfect English. "You speak English?!" I asked, completely surprised as image after image of breakfast table conversation flashed thorugh my mind. "Si," she answered seriously. And hasn't spoken a word of English to me since.

Mama Charito has been holding out on me.

La Combi, A Very Different Animal

2010-08-20T04:33:00.000-07:00

I live in Cayma, a district in Arequipa, in a nice apartment with a mom and her college-age daughter. I work in Alto Cayma, another area of Arequipa. The differences between the places I live and work are like night and day.

The thing that bridges the gap between these two different worlds is the Combi. Every morning, I take a short walk from our apartment to a main avenue in town called Plaza de Cayma, and I wait at the corner (la esquina) for the combi to come and take me up the mountain to Alto Cayma.

A combi is a fifteen passenger van with two staff members: the driver and the faretaker. It costs .70 soles (approximately $0.25) to ride to work one way.
This is what a combi looks like:

As best I can tell, there are not really combi "companies." Instead, individuals own a combi and begin running a designated route. There is no schedule for a combi, instead, you just go to a street corner, and wait for the appropriate combi to pass by. I have never had to wait more than 5 or 6 minutes.

When you hop on the combi, the faretaker will open the door (sometimes while the van is still moving) and say, "Sube, sube, sube." And you will get on. On a good day, you have a seat on the combi. On a not-so-ideal day, you will stand. I have ridden a combi with as many as 26 other people.

Just before you want to get off the combi, you will pay your fare, and say, "Baja." The fare-taker will call out "Baja!" to the driver, and the combi will slow (although not always to a stop) and the fare-taker will yell, "Baja, baja, baja, baja" as you get off.

At first, I was pretty intimidated by the combi. I was worried about ladrones (pick-pockets) and catching the right combi. Because not every combi takes the same route up the mountain and down again, I was also worried about getting lost ... which did happen a couple of times.

The first time I rode the combi, I had no problems. The second time I rode the combi, the driver took a slightly different route, and I got turned around. I was on the combi in Sector 13 (when I should have gone to Sector 7), and started fumbling through Spanish to ask the fare-taker where we were. I know I looked stressed. Thankfully, a very sweet man next to me was listening to my conversation, and at one point, interrupted me to say, "Are you looking for Gloria and Jim?" HA! There was an English speaker on my combi! Thank goodness.

I get a lot of strange looks when I ride the combi. I am a sort of oddity in Peru. I am tall (taller than most Peruvian men), and I have white skin (really white skin), and curly red hair. I attract attention and stick out like a sore thumb. For all of these reasons, I usually end up having conversations with people on the combi. They ask me where I'm from, what I'm doing here, do I really know where I'm going, and they tell me I have hair of "gold." (I like that last part --- especially since it's a far cry from my mother's description of my hair, "Meghan," she says, "It's like the burning bush.")

After almost three weeks in Peru, I don't want to jinx myself, but I think I've mastered the combi. I haven't gotten lost or even turned around in over a week and half. I even enjoy participating in this part of Peruvian culture.

The Story of The Alpaca

2010-08-10T16:11:00.001-07:00

Last week, I had the opportunity to go with Gloria, Jim, the Dunn family, and two men, Victor and Osewaldo to Inca Alpaca, a store that sells clothing and blankets made of Alpaca wool. Interestingly enough, this store also has a very, very small zoo in which customers can walk through to see llamas and alpacas.

After perusing the sale rack, I decided it was time to investigate these animals. Just what was an alpaca anyways? When I walked outside, I was immediately greeted by the bays of a handful of alpacas. Some were black, some were brown --- but they were all really ugly! I think alapacas are oddly shaped. I commented on this to Osewaldo, a native Peruvian. His response, "No Meghan, you are crazy. They are beautiful." Beauty is definitely in the eyes of the beholder.

Here are the alpacas I saw.

I was finishing my viewing of the animals when Gloria called, "Meghan! There's one more!" And sure enough, there was an alpaca sticking his head out between the bars. "Oh," I said, grabbing my camera. I began walking towards the alpaca, and I heard Osewaldo say, "Escupe. Escupe." I didn't know what that meant, so I eagerly continued moving towards the animal for an upclose shot of his face. All of a sudden the alpaca reared back, grunted loudly, and SPIT AT ME. I screamed and grabbed Gloria, who was standing next to me. Everyone busted out laughing.

I learned a very important word in Spanish that day. "Escupe" means "He spits!"

Later in the week, I am happy to say that I ate alpaca. And I enjoyed every bite!

Where the Wild Things Are...

2010-08-04T04:46:00.001-07:00

"Remember you are over the edge of the wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go."
J.R.R. Tolkien

This week, I have had the opportunity to explore the neighborhood in Alto Cayma, and I thought I would share with you pictures of what Alto Cayma looks like. Alto Cayma is truly a different world. Some of the things I have seen and participated in make my stomach drop. Some of them - particularly the ways in which these people work together, astound me.

This is the neighborhood.

This is a picture of a typical street in Alto Cayma.

In the next two pictures, you can see what the houses often look like.

Believe it or not, this is a bathroom.

In Alto Cayma, there are stray dogs everywhere. Some families choose to have a dog to protect their house. In this case, the dog is usually found on the roof. I'm not quite sure why yet.

This is a picture of people coming to the well. Most families do not have running water in their homes.

This well serves about 85 families in the Diecinueve de Enero neighborhood. We talked with one man who said his family collects 7 5-gallon buckets a day. Unfortunately, there is usually no water in the well by the weekend.

This is the volcano, El Misti, that can be seen both from where I live in Arequipa and in Alto Cayma.

These are the mountains surrounding Alto Cayma. Many of the people that live in these settlements actually came down from the mountains in search of a better life. Sadly, life here is not always better than life in the mountains.

Some of these pictures of sobering. Some of them are fascinating. I am truly over the edge of the wild now, and I believe with my whole heart that the youth of Alto Cayma and I are in for all sorts of growth and fun as we learn from each other.

What do you say?

2010-08-03T21:52:00.000-07:00

It is day two of my five month stay in Peru, and already I have a favorite experience. Today, one of the many things I got to do was visit the Aldea (the oraphange) in Alto Cayma. The orphanage is run by a Maltese priest named Father Frank. Father Frank has been serving in Alto Cayma since 1990 and in the last two decades, he has done a lot to improve the lives of children in Alto Cayma.

When we arrived at the Aldea, we were greeted by a handful of smiling children. They immediately came over to say hello to Jim and Gloria, and I think they were curious as to who Jim and Gloria had brought with them. The Dunn Family, a mom and dad and two adopted 19 year old Peruvian twins, have been visiting Alto Cayma for the last four days - and they came to the orphanage as well. Kathy (la mama) brought candy and stickers to share with the kids - and before long, there were kids everywhere!

I got know some of the 45 children who live at the Aldea. We played hand clapping games and Gloria and I helped give them temporary tattoos. (Most of the kids wanted to put their tattoo on their face. They asked me if I wanted one on my nariz (nose) - of course, I told them they were crazy. But, they put stickers on my forehead and cheeks anyways.

Some of the younger kids asked me if Kathy was my mother. "No," I told them, "my mother lives in Carolina del Norte." "Why?" one of the girls, Alicia, asked. I thought this was a strange question. So what do I say? "Because my dad needs her." "Ohh," Alicia said. And then all the kids started laughing.

Later, we were introduced to a seven year old named Jose Manuel. Jose has had some serious health problems - he was born without an anus and therefore cannot use the bathroom like other people can. When he went to Lima for surgery, the doctors botched the surgery and accidentally cut his urethra, so now he can no longer urinate like other people can. Jose Manuel has had a difficult time, but you wouldn't know it by looking at him. Dan, Kathy's husband, seemed to connect well Jose. He kept saying, "Man, this kid is tough." I couldn't agree more. Perhaps this is why Dan slipped Jose not one, not two, but THREE starbursts. When Father Frank saw this, he said to Jose, "Que debes decir?" (What should you say?) Jose answered politely, "Gracias." And then, Kathy echoed the same question to her husband Dan, "What do you say?" And Dan answered, "De nada." Talk about a cultral exchange : )

The children at the Aldea play hard. They also live hard. Some of them have overcome many, many obstacles already, and it seems that there are many more waiting for them. I am looking forward to getting to know these kids better in the next five months. Hopefully soon, I will have pictures.

Where in the world is Meghan Large?

2010-07-29T21:03:00.000-07:00

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea where I was. It took me a full minute... was in Slovakia? Charlotte? Cary? Ohio? Asheville? And then, I remembered, "Oh yeah, I live in Peru now."

The city in which I am staying is Arequipa, in southern Peru. You can see it on this map.

Arequipa has about a million inhabitants - so it is the size of Charlotte. In fact, Charlotte and Arequipa are sister cities. Who knew?

In Arequipa, I live with a host family - a host mother (Mama Charito), and two host sisters (Pia who lives with us and another sister I haven't met yet because she studies at university in Lima, the captial of Peru). My host sister, Pia, is the same age as my own sister, Lauren. Pia speaks wonderful English - but after today, she and I are only going to talk to Spanish. My host mother speaks no English, and our conversations at the breakfast table are fabulous.

My work is in Alto Cayma, which is a suburb of sorts of Arequipa. I have just begun to get to know the people and the settlements of Alto Cayma. I am hoping to sit down this week and share with you pictures and descriptions of my first impression of this place. Stay tuned for much, much more.

2010-07-29T20:31:00.000-07:00

"A ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships are built for."

In three days, I am hopping on another plane and travelling across the world - again. This time, however, I will be heading southward instead of eastward. This is particularly exciting for me because it means that I am in the same time zone as my friends and family. Life --- particularly skype calls home ---- just got that much easier!

In the last three weeks, I have felt like I have been going round and round in a revolving door. I have visited New York City; Toledo, Ohio; and Cary, Taylorsville, Hickory and Asheville, NC. I have preached at two different churches, and I have had more lunch and dinner dates than I have ever had in my life. I have so enjoyed my time at home. It has been a blessing to see the faces of family and friends that I have missed over the last year. Time with you all is good for my soul : ). These last few weeks have been a whirlwind, but I wouldn't trade a second of them.

I am going to continue blogging about my adventures in Peru. The blog rules are still the same: what you read here is for your eyes only. Whatever you do, Shh! Don't tell mom.

Time to Get Goin'

2010-07-02T02:38:00.002-07:00

I have two days until I am stateside and five days until I am home. My travel plans are as follows:

I leave for Bratislava on Saturday afternoon and arrive in the evening. I wake up with Heidi and Eric on Sunday morning and together we catch a bus from Bratislava to the Vienna airport. The three of us are on three different flights but we all leave between ten and eleven o’clock. My personal flight has me going further east to Warsaw before I finally head west. I arrive in NYC at 4pm on the 4th of July. I’m going to spend three days with Meredith, one of my best friends in the whole world. Then, finally, I fly from NYC to CLT on Wednesday, July 7th. I touchdown at 3pm and will be home by 4. I can’t wait to see you guys. Thank you so much for all the ways you have loved and cared for and supported me while I have been so far away. Your prayers and thoughts have meant the world to me.

Beginnings and Completions

2010-07-02T02:38:00.001-07:00

The school year at EGT begins and ends with a church service. I remember the worship service at the beginning of the year. Everyone was in formal dress and met in front of Tisovec church. Students and parents were everywhere. I walked through this sea of faces, not recognizing one of them, and made my way down the aisle of this huge, cold church to sit in the designated “teacher” pew. I sat through a church service in a language that was as foreign to me as gibberish. And I was welcomed as a teacher-missionary into this school community with no idea of what the year would hold.

Our closing worship was on Wednesday. Again, everyone was in formal and met in front of Tisovec church. Students were everywhere, but this time as I walked through the crowd, I realized that I knew every student’s face. Not only could I call them by name, but I could ask them questions about the things that were going on in their lives and the things they had planned for summer holiday. I talked with so many students that it took me a while to find my way to the font set of pews. Just as in August, I sat through a church service in a language that I still don’t know. Yet as I was sitting, I watched my students and I was struck by the way these worship services bookend my school year and time in Slovakia. It seemed that nothing had really changed, and yet so much had. I have grown in confidence and in experience. And I have formed relationships with my neighbors and friends in Slovakia. While this year has certainly not been a walk in the park, I am thankful for both our first worship – where I knew nothing and no one , our last worship – where I realized that I had a place in this Tisovec community, and most of all, I am thankful for all the time in between.

Hel'pa Folklore Festival

2010-06-25T02:05:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, the American teachers went on our last trip together. We went to a traditional Slovak folklore festival in Hel’pa, a small town about two hours away from Tisovec. During the summer, it is customary for each village and town to have their “Days.” Tisovec has a weekend of “Tisovec Days,” and Hel’pa had its weekend of “Hel’pa Days.” On these weekends, the whole town comes out to perform traditional Slovak dances, buy and sell traditional Slovak products such as medovina (honey wine), wooden kitchenware, leather merchandise, kroj (traditional Slovak dress), and much more. The best parts of the larger festivals are when the towns host folklore dancing. Hel’pa has one of the largest festivals in Slovakia --- they have even built an outdoor ampitheater out of wood to host hours and hours of Slovak dancing.

We arrived in Hel’pa early Saturday morning and did some shopping. I bought a set of six wooden spoons – something I have been wanting to do all year. (Wooden spoon are the best thing to use when eating Slovak gulas… and I keep telling my mother that I want to build a fire pit in our backyard so that we can make true Slovak gulas in pot. Watch out mom, because now I have the proper cutlery for our gulas adventure!) At about mid-morning, we met one of our first year students and followed her back to her house. Viktoria had been kinda enough to offer us her backyard so that we could set up a tent and camp there during the festival. When we got to Viktoria’s house, we were surprised to find her entire family there – mom, sister, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandma. They were in the midst of making gulas for the group. So, while the gulas was cooking, we hung out with her family.

We were completely shocked when her uncle brought a “surprise” as an appetizer. This is what Tomas purchased for the group’s enjoyment:

Yes, we ate it.

After gulas, we all went to the ampitheater to watch folklore dancing. Here are some of the groups we saw.
The clothes that they wear are their particular town’s style of kroj. Typically Slovaks will still wear kroj to special occasions such as weddings or confirmations.

Hel’pa was a wonderful way to celebrate my last full weekend in Slovakia. I have enjoyed getting to know this rich culture and history, and I believe there is a lot that I will take home with me.

The Home Stretch

2010-06-21T10:16:00.000-07:00

Friday was our last day of regular classes. School does not officially end until the 30th; however, the students participate in alternative education workshops from now until then. The American teachers are beginning to pack and clean out their offices. Things are definitely winding down in T-town.

Last week we had our last Friday Night Lights Bible Study of the year. The girls watched the finale of season one, and our discussion was about thanksfulness. We made them American cookies and bagels to eat, and they brought us Slovak cake. We had a wonderful time closing out the year with such a fun and faithful group of students.

There is one story from that night that I probably shouldn't share because both parties involved in the story will be mortified. In keeping with my blog policy of full-disclosure, I'm going to tell it to you anyways.

As the girls were leaving, we spent about ten minutes giving hugs and saying goodbye after our closing prayer. Two of the girls came up to me and asked if they should say a special thank you to Eric (Mr. Richter) because he was the one who started the Bible Study. I said that, of course, they could thank him. So the two girls (somewhat) discreetly, walked around our living room planning a dog-pile/bear-hug with Mr. Richter. Heidi (Ms. Hartwig) laughed as she heard them planning this and jokingly said, "Kiss him too, while you're at it girls." A minute later, one of the girls counted to three and everyone rushed Mr. Richter. Then one of our girls, who didn't realize Ms. Hartwig had been kidding, leaned in and gave him a smacking kiss right on the cheek. Everyone watched as Mr. Richter and our student turned fire engine red and stared at each other in shock. We could not contain our laughter.
What a way to end the year : )

In other news, Becky, Eric and I had our mentor meeting with our 1B1 class. It's hard to believe these high school freshmen will be second years next year. I think even they are a little sad to drop the "1" from their class name and become 2B1s.

We invited all the kids over to Eric's house for ice cream (Zmrzlina - in Slovak). The kids had a wonderful time taking group pictures and talking about their summer holidays. I am going to miss them terribly, and I am so happy that I have friends who will be coming back to teach next year and watch out for my kids.

This is our last 1B1 photo:

I sLOVEnia!

2010-06-15T02:00:00.001-07:00

When I first told my Taylorsville family that I was going to be spending a year teaching in Slovakia, Eric (the dad), asked me in his strong southern voice, "Now, why would you want to go to Slovenia?" I laughed at him and told him that I wasn't going to SLOVENIA. I was going to SLOVAKIA. For the next few months until I left, Eric continued to ask me every time he saw me why I wanted to go to Slovenia. No matter how many times I corrected him, the question remained the same.

Guess what, Eric? After this weekend, I can tell you why everyone should want to make a trip to Slovenia : )

On Friday, we left Tisovec for our last big trip of the year. After school, we hopped on a bus to Bratislava and then rented a car to ROAD TRIP the rest of the way.
Our route led us through most of Austria before we crossed the border into Slovenia.

We arrived at Lake Bohinj some time in the middle of the night on Firday. On Saturday, we woke up early and drove a couple of towns over to Bled. Lake Bled is one of the most famous and picturesque sites in Slovenia. This area is well-known in Central Europe for hiking, biking, and rowing. The lake is surrounded by the Julian Alps --- which are so high there was still snow on them in the middle of June!

We had a picnic brunch and dangled our feet in the lake water. Lake Bled is home to many birds. This is the swan who thought he could snag part of my sandwich.

After brunch, we spent the morning walking around Lake Bled. The weather was picture perfect.

This is the church in the center of the lake.

In this picture, you can see one of the peaks of the Julian Alps behind the church.

This is the castle that guards the lake.

In the afternoon, we hiked through Vintgar Gorge. The hike was beautiful --- the path was actually a series of raised bridges that wove back and forth over a river.

Because of the mineral deposits and high sulfur content in the sediment, much of the rivers and lakes in Slovenia have a goregous bluish-green tint.

Check out that white water!

This is the waterfall (or SLAP as it's called in Slovenian) at the end of the hike.

Later that evening, we walked around Lake Bohinj.

The next morning, we woke up early enough to catch the tail end of the sunrise on the lake and then we made the short drive to Italy so that we could have gelatto for breakfast.

This is the view from above the Italian coastal city Trieste.

And this is a typical narrow Italian street. I love the stucco. And I love gelatto.

From Trieste, we meandered our way back through Slovenia and into Austria until finally we were back in the SK.

Slovenia was on my radar until Eric West mentioned it (repeatedly) before I left for Europe. And to be honest, I jumped at the chance to go to Slovenia simply so I could tell him all about why someone would want to go there. And I am so glad that I went. Slovenia has one of the prettiest countrysides in Europe. I am ready for Eric to ask how my time in Slovenia was : ).

The Countdown Has Begun...

2010-06-06T03:48:00.001-07:00

10 more days of regular classes

26 days til I eat my last traditional Slovak Gulas

27 days til I say goodbye to Slovakia and hello to Meredith in NYC

30 days til Dad picks me up at the airport and I get to kiss Mom

46 days til I see Abigail

48 days til I get to dinner party with my Taylorsville family

57 days til my next adventure begins and I leave for Alto Cayma, Peru

It's hard to believe...

This one's for Mom

2010-06-06T03:32:00.000-07:00

Last week, my students informed me that Monday was Children's Day. "A-ha," I said to them, "and what does this mean?" They answered, "It means, Ms. Large that the whole day is to make children feel special." Apparently Children's Day is the kiddie equivalent of Mother's Day and Father's Day. "You know, we don't have a day like this in the US," I told my students. "I think we need one."

Whenever I was younger, I complained about mothers having a day and fathers having a day, I wanted to know when Kids' Day was. My mother always told me that every day is Kid's Day. Mama, I think this Children's Day is one Slovak tradition we should adopt : ).

My students continued to tell me that since it was Children's Day, they couldn't possibly have a test. These poor students of mine are so confused. Of course, they had their test. I told them they could think of it as my Children's Day gift to them.

While we're talking about holidays, I thought I would share with you a hilarious conversation I had with my students the day after American Mother's Day.

In Old Testament Class, our warm-question, in honor of Mother's Day, was:
Who is your favorite Old Testament mother? Why?

Somehow our conversation evolved into a discussion on mothers and the crazy things mothers say and do. I think some of them may sound familiar. I learned that no matter where you are - Slovakia, North Carolina or Timbuktu, mothers are mothers.

It seems that American mothers do not have a monopoly on "I'll think about it" and "We'll see." When my students announced that their mothers will often say this to them, I asked them to tell me what these statements really mean. My students responses: no chance, unlikely, impossible. In other words: "I'll think about it" and "We'll see" are universal, not-so-secret mother codes for "no."

One student shared with me that her mother counts when she's frustrated with him. "One," she'll say holding up a finger. "Two," she continues, holding up the second finger. "What happens when she gets to three?" I asked my student. "I don't know," he answered, "I don't let her get that far." I laughed. Moms do have some serious power.

Perhaps the funniest thing that one of my more ornery students shared was that her mother will say to her, "I hope you have a child exactly like you!" This was (and still is) one of my own mother's most fervant wishes for me. When I said this to my students, they busted out laughing. "Oh Miss Large! Your poor mother."

"Ziaci," I told them, "We have a saying about mothers in America, and it goes like this: 'If mom ain't happy... ain't nobody happy.' Is this rule true for families in Slovakia?" My students again started laughing and nodding their heads, "Yes! We know that rule!" they said.

My favorite mom story is, of course, about my own mother. One day when I was in high school, Lauren and I were enjoying a teacher work day --- which, means we get to sleep in and play all day. Unfortunately, my parents still had to work. Both my mom and dad are early risers because they work early shifts, and this day was no exception. Unfortunately, neither Lauren nor I got a lot of sleep. Dad was puttering around the kitchen - and like most dads, my dad does not putter quietly. He bellowed for our dog Ivan, doors creaked, and cabinets slammed. From across the house, my mother, who was in the bathroom getting ready, heard the commotion. "Mark," she yelled, "Don't slam the cabinets. You're gonna wake the girls!"

"Mothers are strange creatures," I told my students seriously when I told them this story. They snickered.

In honor of Mother's Day last month, Father's Day next week and every day that is Kid's Day, let's say thanks be to God for moms, dads, and families.

This One's For Dad

2010-06-05T12:02:00.000-07:00

Recently my father has been harrassing me about the pictures on my baking blog entry. He continues to assert that I make ugly bagels. (Some of you may have noticed his comment on that particular entry.)

Dad, this is what bagels look like when they're done:

And here are some pictures of the English muffins I made Saturday:

Told ya they were pretty : )

I am woman. Watch me bake.

Deliver Us From Evil

2010-06-01T23:47:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, Heidi and I travelled to Poland to stay with Colleen and Sarah and make a day trip to Auschwitz.

Spending part of a day at a concentration/extermination camp is something I have felt called to do since I have been in Europe. I have read the stories - Anne Frank's, Elie Wiesel's, and many others, and I have felt a need to see and to understand even a small part of what these people experienced. In a way, seeing helps us to remember - and when we remember, we can work so that horrors like the Holocaust do not happen again.

In the early 1940s, Hitler occupied most of Poland. During his conquest, he took over a group of Polish army barracks in Oswiecim and created a concentration camp for Jews and political enemies now known in the English-speaking world as Auschwitz. In just three years, 1.1 million people were exterminated within the barbed wire fences of this place. 960,000 of these people were Jewish.

Our tour began in front of the gate of the main camp. The entrance proudly boasts the message: "Arbeit Macht Frei" which means "Work sets you free."

Unfortunately, as our guide told us, the only path to freedom from Auschwitz was death.

Inside the gate, we were told that a small orchestra of musicians would station themselves for practice every morning and every evening. While the orchestra played, the prisoners would line themselves up in rows of five for counting. The Nazis watched as they walked through the gates of Auschwitz for work at rock quarries and in factories. Because there must be the same number of people coming home as there were leaving, the prisoners were required to carry back the bodies of the people who collapsed and died from exhaustion while working. If the number of people walking back through the gates at the end of the day did not match the morning numbers, the Nazis would choose at random a number of prisoners to publicly torture to death.

Our first stop in the camp was Block 4, a small nondescript brick building that looked like the rest of brick buildings in its row. This block featured extermination exhibits. On the first floor, we learned that the Nazis told their prisoners that they would be housed at Auschwitz, a transition camp, until they could be relocated to a new place. Upstairs, we saw a disturbing model of the selection process and crematorium.

When people arrived at Auschwitz, they often arrived after anywhere from two to ten days of travel. Up to one hundred people would be stuffed like sardines into a train car typically used for cattle. Many died of suffocation and starvation before they even set foot on Auschwitz. Those who survived would be released from the trains and asked to line up in two groups: men and women/children. At this point, Nazi doctors would look over each of the people and select who would die and who would work. With a jerk of the head, many of the doctors sent people straight to the extermination showers. In Block 4, we saw how the people were led into a huge warehouse basement and asked to strip for washing. The Nazis encouraged people to hang their clothes on numbered hooks --- they did this in order to prevent panic and give the people the sense that they would be coming back for their belongings. The prisoners were herded from the changing rooms into the showers. Once everyone inside, the doors to the showers would shut. Within a minute, a poisonous gas called Zyklon-B would be released from the shower heads, and within twenty minutes up to 20,000 people would be dead. The Nazis forced work-prisoners to pillage the bodies --- often, they shaved the hair off the corpse and mined for the gold in their teeth. Then, the work-prisoners would stack the bodies into elevators for the crematorium once the gas cleared from the chamber. These workers were also systematically killed every two months to insure the secrecy of their cruelty. To think about how clinically, how efficiently the Nazis exterminated mass groups of people still gives me chills.

In Block 5, we saw the physical remains of the people who died. Because their bodies were burned and their ashes were spread into fields to be fertilizer, the only things that are left of many Holocaust victims are their physical possessions which the Nazis took from them upon arrival at Auschwitz. We walked from room to room in Block 5 and saw tangled messes of broken eyeglasses with bent frames, one ton of shoes and two tons of hair - some of which was still tied in braids. My stomach turned when I saw a single greyed baby booty sticking out of a stack of shoes.

Not all of Auschwitz's prisoners died upon arrival at camp. Some prisoners were selected for work. We saw the exhibits featuring the torurted lives of these prisoners in Block 6. Work prisoners were slept on narrow bunk beds - often with three or four other people. They were give no blanket and no pillow. Because Poland is very cold for five months out of the year - and these buildings had no heat - many died from the cold. The prisoners were fed 1/2 a liter of coffee for breakfast, a bowl of vegetable soup for lunch and a piece of bread for dinner. The food rations the people were given make it clear that Auschwitz work prisoners were also condemned to death. No one could surivive an eleven hour shift for long on that diet. The prisoners wore thin striped uniforms and wooden shoes - neither of which protected them from the snow in the winter.

Upon arrival to Auschwitz as a work prisoner, everyone was labeled with a number and a symbol. The number became your identity. The symbol placed you into a group for counting. Auschwitz is the only concentration camp that tattooed these numbers onto people, so if you have ever met or seen a Holocaust survivor with a tattoo, you know that he or she survived Auschwitz and not another camp such as Dachau or Buchenwald.

In Block 6, we also saw how the smallest work prisoners lived. Children made up 20% of the prisoner population at Auschwitz at any given time. Most of the children served as lab rats for medical experiments. The Nazis were particularly interested in testing and examining twins and triplets. I learned this weekend that much of the information we have about people's tolerances of hypothermia, heat stroke, pain, and torture comes from Nazi experiments. In the medical world today, there is a debate on the ethical use of this information. Some people say that because this information was gained through unauthorized, de-humanizing testing, we should not use it. The documents and information should be burned. Others say, that, while the information was gained barbarically, we should use the information to help others and to honor the victims' memories.

From Block 6, we travelled to Block 11, also called the "Death Block." No prisoner who entered Block 11 survived. We saw the many different extermination methods the Nazi killers employed: starvation cells, standing cells, small gas chambers, dark cells.
In one particular cell, our guide pointed out the crucifix of Jesus one prisoner scratched into the wall with his nails before he died.

Our last stop at Auschwitz I was the gas chamber. Because the images of the baby booty and scalped braids were still making my stomach roll, I decided not to go into "the showers." I did not want to imagine the panic and hysteria of the crowds when the doors of the chambers shut and the gas was released. I did not want to walk where so many people had died.

Auschwitz I was a much smaller version of Auschwitz II/Birkenau. While Auschwitz I housed 14,000 prisoners at any given time, Birkenau was build to hold 100,000. Auschwitz horror was magnified at Birkenau.

By the end of our tour, my heart ached and my stomach hurt.

And I prayed, and will continue to pray asking God to "Deliver us from evil."

Oh My - the things our students say...

2010-06-01T23:33:00.000-07:00

As English teachers for the same group of first year students, Becky and I encourage the 1B1s to immerse themselves in English outside the classroom. We tell them to watch movies in English, subscribe to English newspapers, read books in English, etc. Most of our students do these things often – and it shows because they’re English is very advanced compared to the rest of the first year students. We have one student, Fizzo, who includes listening to rap music to supplement his English lessons.

One day towards the beginning of the year, Fizzo raised his hand, “Ms. Large, I must ask you question, but I not know if it is bad.” “Okay, Fizzo,” I answered, “What’s your question?” Fizzo walked up to my desk and asked, “What means,” and then his voice dropped to a whisper, “holla atcha boy?” I smothered a laugh and told him that “holla atcha boy” is slang/gangsta for hello or to call/catch up with. “Where did you hear that from, Fizzo?” I asked. “From song,” he answered and sat back down.

A month or two later Fizzo raised his hand again, “Ms. Large, what means hustler?” I knew what song he was alluding to in this question – lyrics go: “A diva is a female version of a hustler.” “A hustler,” I told Fizzo, “is someone who knows how to cheat other people out of money.”

Fizzo also asks Ms. Mason about any new vocabulary he comes across. This semester he asked about a word that left both of us stumped. “What means juiced?” Becky and I thought that juiced meant drunk; however, once we asked Eric, we learned that juiced actually refers to someone who is doped up on steroids. Oh, the things we learn!

Here's the kicker: by far, the best question Fizzo asked was two weeks ago in Ms. Mason's class. Fizzo asked, “Ms. Mason what means fresh pair of panties?” Now, Becky is very prim and a very formal teacher. When I heard about this, I died laughing. "What did you say?" I asked Becky. "Well, I decided we should start with fresh. Fresh. New. Clean. And then - panties. Underwear for women."

To say that teaching students English has been an adventure is an understatement.
Oh, the things our students say : )

A New Hobby ("Man, I Feel Like a Woman!")

2010-05-31T08:56:00.000-07:00

Cooking has never been somthing I have excelled at. I usually get distracted by other activities and forget that I am waiting on a pot of water to boil. A timer may or may not get set - which means whatever is in the oven may or may not get burned. I do not have very good taste buds - and so most of the time, I cannot taste when something is slightly old or stale. I certainly have a difficult time blending salt and spices. I will never be a person who can throw ingredients into a bowl and produce something exciting, much less edible. However, I do enjoy the idea of cooking.

A couple of months ago, Becky and decided to take up bread baking. We meet once a week and experiment with all different kinds of breads - most of which you cannot find in Slovakia.

Bagels are the sleepiest bread that we have tried. They must rise twice and rest at least twice and once more after they are boiled. Because I am often ansty, I usually will poke at the bagels while Becky and I are talking. Usually, her response is, "Meghan, don't poke the bread - you're going to wake the bagels. They're sleeping."

Usually, Becky and I pretend that we have our own cooking television show. We narrate what we are doing as we go - in funny, rapid fire dialogue. Thankfully Becky plays Al Borland to my bumbling Tim Taylor-esque style of hosting and baking.

So far we have tackled quite a few recipes. We've made cinnamon raisin and brown sugar cranberry bagels, sour dough bread, bread bowls for soup, asiago bread and graham crackers.

This week we are making foccacia bread and ciabatta bread for a group pannini dinner. English muffins and tortillas are the last items on our list of things to try during our time in Tisovec.

I enjoy this new hobby immensely. It's good to spend time with Becky and I have found that there's something very therapeutic about kneading dough. While I am still very much an apprentice baker, I am excelling under Becky's tutelage. I often joke with her that, while I am not a particularly feminine person, when I bake, "I feel like a woman!" The first time I told Becky this she snickered so hard she snorted. Now she always responds, "We are women. Watch us bake!"

MudFest 2010

2010-05-27T01:28:00.001-07:00

Last weekend some of us went to Cieszyn, Poland to meet Colleen and to go to a beer festival just over the border in the Czech Republic. We had read online that this festival was the second largest beerfest in Europe after Oktoberfest. We were pretty stoked.

Unfortunately, BeerFest 2010 was not exactly what we expected. Check out what we saw when we approached the gates:

To say it has rained a lot this spring is an understatement. There weren't many people who wanted to brave the mud for beer, but we decided to embrace MudFest 2010 with open arms and rolled up pants. We went to a nearby grocery store and bought cheap sandals and huge garbage bags.

Eric rocked crocs.

Mark got creative with homemade chaps.

Becs styled the ankle boot garbage bags.

This is one of Colleen's pictures of us at the end of the day washing off in a water trough. I love everyone's facial expressions.

You know, sometimes life is messy. Actually, most of the time life is messy. That's no reason not to enjoy it : )

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

2010-05-13T06:45:00.001-07:00

Before I accepted this position at EGT, I was warned that the students cheat - shamelessly. I was a little shocked - but not much, after all, students in America cheat too. Unfortunately, in Slovakia, teachers have accepted this behavior as part of the culture. You see, in Slovak schools, the students are divided into grade levels and then each grade level is divided into classes. Students begin school at EGT in one class and they remain with that class taking every course together until they graduate five years later. During this time, our students develop a strong sense of class identity. They are a little family and they are fiercely loyal to each other. They often "help" (read: CHEAT) the members of their class with tests and homework. They care about each other's grades, AND it is important for the students that their class is seen as being intelligent. (I think this is perhaps a holdover from communism - the idea that the class identity is stronger than that of the individual).

Last week, I had two back-to-back experiences with cheating in my classes. One caused me to smile. The other one made me angry.

At the end of sixth hour on Tuesday, I watched as Marek sprinted out of the classroom well ahead of the other students. I was a little surprised by his hurry out of my class. "Ondrej," I asked, turning to one of the only remaining students. "What's wrong with Marek?"
"Oh," Ondrej answered, "He wants to get to next class before Kubo does. He wants to sit next to Denisa but Kubo does too."
"Ah," I said knowing that Denisa was a really smart student. "Do you have a test next class?" "Of course," Ondrej smiled.

Then, the very next day, I gave by 2A2 Old Testament students their third test.
I watch my students like a hawk when they have tests. They are not allowed to have anything but a pencil on their desks. Sometimes students will write on the inside of the paper label surrounding their water bottle. For this reason, no water bottles are allowed on test days. Even their bookbags are located in a different place in the room so that they are not tempted to "help" themselves. I often will make several versions of a test - usually anywhere from 2-4 depending on the particular class. I try very hard to make it difficult to cheat.

On this particular day, my 2A2 students were in a mood. I saw four of them sharing answers with each other from across the room. I'm not quite sure how they developed a system to do this - especially since the students did not know who would have which version of the test; however, they managed it. For these four students, the decision to cheat meant an automatic zero. I walked up to them, but a big "x" on the front of their paper in black marker and then let them continue working. At the end of the class, I announced that whoever had an "x" would receive the grade of "zero." The students were not pleased and collectively lamented the unfairness of it all.

The next hour of class, I was actually serving as a substitute for the same 2A2 students. I told them at the beginning of the hour that they had worked hard last class and I was not going to make them do work. They were welcome to study, read, etc. as long as they were quiet. About five minutes into class, I looked up from grading their tests and saw that one of the girls had writing on the inside of her arm. I called her name and asked, "Did you get a tattoo?" "No," she answered surprised. "Oh," I said, "I think you have some dirt on your arm then. "Here, let me show you." And I walked up to her desk and tapped on the writing. Sure enough, there were names of Old Testament characters and bizarre numbers written on her arm. "What do these numbers mean?" I asked the student. "They are pages in my dictionary," she answered. I told her I wanted to see her dictionary, and when she pulled it out, I flipped through it. There were notes from class scrawled in the margins of the different pages of the dictionary.

I do not often let my students use dictionaries; however, because most of their tests have at least one essay question IN ENGLISH, I will occasionally let them look up words. Apparently, this was a bad idea. I asked the rest of the class to produce their dictionaries. And very quickly, I realized I had been had. It seemed the situation called for zeroes all around.

Oh, the joys of teaching.

Oh yeah! An Exercise in the Psalms

2010-05-06T04:32:00.000-07:00

Because we are studying the Psalms, I asked my students to write their own Psalms with a partner. Each student received a fill-in-blanks Psalm of praise to work with.

This is the worksheet they received:

We give thanks to you, O Lord, for you are _________, __________, and __________.
Who can fully proclaim your might acts, O __________ or fully declare your praise?
You have _____________________ and _____________________.
We ____________ you, O ____________.
We _____________ your holy name.
For you turned our _________________ into ________________.
You lifted us out of _________________________.
You are there when we __________________ you.
You will never __________________ us.
We praise you, O Lord, for you are _________, __________, and __________.

I would like to share with you some of my students’ responses:
We give thanks to you, O Lord, for you are the morning, the evening, and the day.
Who can fully proclaim your might acts, O Lord or fully declare your praise?
You have taken away our fears and made us brave.
We praise you, O Lord.
We sing your holy name.
For you turned our sadness into happiness.
You lifted us out of darkness.
You are there when we need you.
You will never leave us.
We praise you, O Lord, for you are the past, the present, and the future.

Two by two, my students shared Psalms like this with the class.

Imagine my surprise when two of my students began their Psalm in this way:

We give thanks to you, O Lord, for you are Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Who can fully proclaim your might acts, O yeah or fully declare your praise?
You have saved and redeemed us.
We love you, O yeah.
We bless your holy name.

My students make me laugh. Oh yeah.

Hiking in the Low Tatras - Kralova Hola

2010-05-06T00:23:00.001-07:00

Last Saturday six of us decided to spend the day hiking Kralova Hola – one of the mountains in the Low Tatras range. We took the bus to Telgart a bus on one side of the mountain. Then we hiked up and over Kralova Hola to Sumiac, a town on the other side of the mountain. From Sumiac we walked one town over to catch our bus.

Our hike was beautiful – but it was a little strenuous. Kralova Hola does not have a trail with proper switchbacks that slowly walk you up the mountain; instead, this mountain has a trail that literally is blazed straight up and straight down the mountain. For the first half hour, we kept waiting for the trail to level out. After the second half hour, we realized that it wasn’t going to.

Here are some of the pictures from our hike.

Our hike down was steep, but we enjoyed it. Saturday was a good day for our group. We spent time in what our students would call "the beautiful nature." Life is good.

Hiking in the High Tatras

2010-05-06T00:22:00.000-07:00

Two Saturdays ago, Eric and I woke up early because we had plans to spend the day hiking in the High Tatras Mountains. While Eric had been to the Tatras before, this was my first trip – and I was pretty excited. We arrived at the Tisovec bus stop at 7:15 to catch the first of three bus connections. Our first bus ride was departing Tisovec for Muran at 7:20. Unfortunately, the Slovak Transportation Department (in all its divine wisdom) sent a large van instead of a bus to run this popular route. Eric and I didn’t even come close to making it on to the all-ready packed van. The next possible bus out of town would not arrive for a couple of hours, and I figured our day was scrapped. Eric, however, had a Plan B. He suggested we hitchhike. (Now, before any of you reading the blog get excited --- please note that hitchhiking is very common and safe in Slovakia.) Because hitchhiking is something that’s been on my list of things to do here (don't wince, Mom), I jumped at the chance.

So, we started walking in the direction of Muran with our thumbs out. After several cars and a truck went by, a car finally stopped for us. The three women in the car agreed to take us to Muran. As we rode with them, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that one of them spoke very good English. She explained to me that she and her friends were on their way to a drama competition in Revuca (a town just north of Muran). They too were supposed to be on the same “bus” (ahem… van) that we were supposed to take. We lamented the woes of Slovak transportation together, and after fifteen minutes of more small talk, we arrived in Muran.

Unfortunately, we missed the next bus connection to our second stop by FOUR MINUTES. So, we decided to hitchhike again. We set off walking in the direction of Poprad, and this time a car picked us up rather quickly. Our travelling companions for this leg of the journey were a family of three: a dad, a mom, and their twenty-something daughter who were travelling to Poland to go shopping. Again, we lucked out. The daughter spoke decent English. We had a great time talking with them. They gave us advice on where to go and what to see in Slovakia. We talked with them about the Slovak education system. We learned about the windstorm that destroyed some of the forests in the High Tatras in 2005, and we got a chance to add to our Slovak vocabulary. Our ride was relaxing and fun. They drove us almost all the way to our final destination – and when we offered to pay for petrol, they declined saying how happy they were to take us where we needed to go. Hitchhiking was a huge success! Another thing to check off the Bucket List.

After a very short train ride, Eric and I arrived at Strbske Pleso. We spent the morning walking around the lake and taking pictures.

This is Strbske Pleso.

Because the High Tatras are at a high elevation and in Norther Slovakia, it is much colder there than in Tisovec. It had snowed three days before we got there, and much of the snow had yet to melt. The lake was still covered in ice.
From the lake, we headed into the mountains on a hike towards one of the Tatras’ many waterfalls.

Check out the mountains in Slovakia! Aren’t they gorgeous?

We stopped at the waterfall for lunch and pictures. The waterfall was partially frozen, but it was still beautiful.

Our trip home was of a more traditional nature - - - we made all three bus connections, so there was no need to hitchhike. I am so glad that I had the chance to explore the High Tatras before I left Slovakia. The Tatras are one of the places in Slovakia that takes your breath away.

Dinner with the 1B1s

2010-05-05T05:48:00.001-07:00

Eric and I are mentors for a group of first year students known as the 1B1 class. We teach these students – I teach them every day and Eric has them four times a week. In short, we have gotten to know these fifteen kids very, very well. It's safe to say that we have all fallen in love with each other.

We try to get together with the 1B1s about every six weeks or so. This year we have already had one lock-in (no one slept....), and a couple of restaurant dinners. Last Thursday, however, we invited the kids over to my house for dinner. I made stromboli from scratch (bread and all!) and Eric grilled veggies. I also made the kids their first chocolate oatmeal cookies (also known as blobs or dookie pies). The kids loved the cookies and said they “had never had anything like them.”

Eric and I enjoyed spending time with these students. Becky (another one of their teachers) came over as well, and the three of us got caught up on all the drama and happenings of the first years.

Out of all of the students I work with, 1B1 class is one of the brightest and most-hardworking. They are a huge part of the reason that I am enjoying teaching so much.

These are my 1B1 babies:

A Visit to the T-town Orphanage

2010-04-27T06:42:00.001-07:00

Last month, Becky and I took a group of EGT students to the orphanage in Tisovec to share an evening activity with them. The majority of the children who live there are Roman (gypsy), and for this reason (among many reasons), I am particularly interested in being a part of this ministry. I think its important for our students to interact as much as possible with the Roma population. Sometimes I feel that Slovaks forget that the Roma have faces, names, histories and futures. What better way to remind them of this fact than by bringing them to the orphanage where they get to play and do crafts with these children?

Our activity and devotion were centered on two stories: The Good Shepherd and Jesus saying “Let the little children come to me.” Becky and I facilitated our visit, but our students were the ones translating. The students helped the children make sheep out of construction paper and cotton, and I learned how to compliment the kids on their artwork (krasne! (Beautiful!), pekne (Nice), and of course lots of ooohs and aaaahs.)

Here we are at craft time.

Once everyone was done with their sheep, we sat in a circle and I told the story of the Good Shepherd. My students translated – with their own creative story-telling flourishes.

These are pictures from circle time.

After this, we simply had face time. Our students looked into the children's faces and our children looked into our students' faces, and they talked. And they laughed. And they played. And it was good, very, very good.

FNL Update

2010-04-27T06:41:00.001-07:00

A couple of months ago, I shared with you that the American teachers hosted a Tuesday night Bible Study and Devotion based on the TV show, Friday Night Lights. We have continued this Bible Study over the last few months, and it seems that everyone (teachers and students) have fallen in love with it. Every Tuesday, students will run into my office or catch other teachers on the stairs asking, “Friday Night Lights is tonight, right?” On Wednesdays, I have caught students' conversations outside my office in which they are discussing what happened the night before – or in which they are filling someone in on the episode he or she missed.

We have tackled a lot of serious issues via this series. Together, we have discussed trust, waiting, parents, prejudice, friendships, confession and forgiveness. The girls who come to FNL are willing and even eager to talk about anything – but particularly life and faith. (Next week, our topic is sex and relationships – prayers are appreciated!)

For me, Tuesdays are a trip into my US-Life – the one in which planning and leading Bible studies is part of my full-time job. On Tuesdays, it always hits me how much I miss working in a church. Friday Night Lights has been an important part of my own faith journey in Slovakia. At times, Slovakia can seem like a spiritually dry place --- but on Tuesday nights, I am reminded of the many ways in which God is alive and working in Tisovec.

I am proud of the ministry we have been doing on Tuesdays. I am even more proud of the girls who come to Bible study and the ways in which they open themselves up to each other, to God and to us.

Are You Smarter Than A Second Year? - Round Two

2010-04-27T06:30:00.001-07:00

It's that time again... My second years took their second test about a week ago.

A sample of the questions are listed below... see how many you know!

Part One: Matching
1. Naomi
2. Aaron
3. Joshua
4. Rahab
5. Mt. Sinai
6. Mt. Nebo
7. Jericho
8. Gideon
9. Samson
10. Ruth

a. the walled city in the Promised Land that the Israelites conquered
b. the mountain on which Moses received the 10 Commandments
c. the first high priest of Israel
d. the woman who hid the two Israelite spies when they came to Jericho
e. Moses' assistant; the man who led Israel after Moses died
f. Ruth's mother-in-law
g. the woman who tricked Samson into giving her the secret of his strength
h. the mountain on which Moses saw the Promised Land before he died
i. a judge of Israel who tested the angel of the Lord with fleece
j. a judge of Israel whose strength was connected to his long hair
k. the woman who traveled to Bethlehem to live with her mother-in-law

Part II - Fill in the Blanks
1. Another name for the 10 Commandments is _________.
2. The ________ says, "May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord look upon you with favor and give you His peace." It is found in ________.
3. ________ is the bread that God rained down from heaven for the Israelites while they wandered in the darkness.
4. The ______ begins at sundown on Friday night and lasts until sundown on Saturday night. This day was a holy day for the Israelites.

Part III - Lists
List the 10 commandments in order. For five of them, write what God protects or affirms (says YES to) by saying NO or "Thou shalt not..."

Part IV - Short Answer
1. What is the Ark of the Covenant?
2. What did God tell the Israelites to do for the walls of Jericho to come crashing down?
3. How did Gideon test the Lord?
4. While was Moses was on Mt. Sinai, the Israelites made and worshipped a golden calf. What were the consequences of this action?

Part V - Theological Discussion: Choose one question to answer.
1. What is a miracle? Do you think a miracle can prove God's existence? Why or why not?
2. What is faith? What is knowledge? How are the two the same? How are they different?

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the life of the second years in my class at EGT!

Have You Been Watered?

2010-04-08T22:16:00.000-07:00

This is a question that I never thought to ask - myself or anyone. Yet, this is the question all my students asked me when we got back to school on Wednesday.

According to Slovak custom, on the Monday after Easter, the men (as well as their younger male counterparts) will walk through their town, knocking on the doors of women that they know. They will lure the women outside and douse them with large buckets of water. Then, they will whip them using braided sticks with ribbon on the ends. This is supposed to insure that the woman will be beautiful and fertile for the next year. With gratitude, the women are then expected to provide their watering friends with chocolate, alcohol and money. Then they are supposed to fill up their buckets with water for the next woman who needs fertilizing.

This a version of the story I told students in answer to their question about whether Ms. Large got watered:

For Easter holiday, I went to Bratislava. We stayed in an empty apartment in Old Town. We had the apartment all to ourselves. Our other teacher friends lived upstairs in their own flats. We had heard on Easter Sunday that there were some gentlemen who wanted to water us, so Ms. Mason (Becky), Colleen, and I decided that we were going to remain inside all day on the day after Easter.

On Monday morning, we woke up late, we ate breakfast, and we were sitting around in our pjs when Becky heard noise in the hallway. She looked through the peephole in the door and sure enough there was a crowd of guys standing outside in hallway. Becky announced, “Girls, they’re here.” Then she sat down on the couch and we studiously proceeded to ignore them. A few minutes later, the phone rings and our American friend, Jon, tells Becky that the boys have made us breakfast. Of course, we see through this ploy, so she hangs up the phone. A few more minutes pass and the phone rings again. Becky answers and Jon asks us if we want to “come out and play.” Becky responds by saying, “I don’t know. Is there water involved in this play?” Jon answers, “Well let’s just say that I was told to tell you if you want to come out, you should leave your cell phones in the apartment.” Becky hung up the phone.

After more time passes, we realize the boys are still in the hallway and there is little chance that they are going away. So, Becky, who is peering through peephole, announces, “Alright boys. You win.” As soon as she says this, she watches as the boys scatter. They even took of their glasses. Oh crap, I thought.
We open the door, and we see three of our American friends and a group of Slovak guys whom I have never seen before in my life. Politely, they introduced themselves. “Hello, I’m Andrej,” “Hello, I’m Martin,” “Hello, I’m Janko.” They ask us if we had a good Easter. Then they ask us if we are enjoying Slovakia. We literally participated in small talk for three or four minutes before one of the guys yells out, “Let’s DO this!” Immediately, one guys scoops Becky up and throws her over his shoulder. Another guy grabs my arms, pulls them behind my back and wraps his wrist around them. They run us down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

As soon as we are set down outside, SPLASH. We are drenched in water. Then, the boys gather around us and lightly “whip” us with their braided sticks. And then, (this is the part my students loved) after we are watered and whipped the boys ask US if for chocolate. Are you kidding me? : ). Clearly, they have lost their minds. THEN, the boys have the nerve to ask us if we could fill up their buckets. Becky and I laughed at them. No way in h-e-double-hockey sticks.
As Becky and I were walking upstairs, the boys good-naturedly said to each other, “These American girls! They come to Slovakia to experience Slovak culture and then when we give it to them, they don’t like it. What do they want from us?!” Thankfully, Becky and I heard about this after the fact and second-hand.
When we got upstairs, we changed our clothes. A few minutes later, our three American friends knocked on the door. When we opened it, they came in and gave US chocolate because we were such good sports. (“American guys!” I told my students. “We like American guys!”)

My students enjoyed the story. I ended by telling them, “So to answer your question, yes, I have been watered AND fertilized. I am officially a Slovak woman.”

Easter

2010-04-08T07:51:00.001-07:00

This past week, I spent Easter in Bratislava with my friends Colleen, Heidi and Becky. We were able to spend time together, worship in English, and hang out with the other ELCA missionary teachers in Bratislava. Here are the highlights from our trip with pictures as taken by Colleen, our official Easter weekend photographer:

Several mothers sent Easter care packages with typical American Easter items: peeps, robins eggs, Easter grass, jelly beans, and (best of all) an Egg Decorating kit.
On our first day in Bratislava, we decorated Slovak eggs in true American Easter style.

This was my egg. I am clearly not an artist. I joked with Colleen saying, "I think my egg has gonnorhea."

The next day, we did some shopping, and we had Taryn and Christoff (the ELCA English speaking Church in Bratislava's vicar and her husband) over for dinner. Colleen made her traditional meal: stromboli. It was excellent. Everything was made from scratch.

On Saturday morning we woke up early and went to the open air market in Bratislava. The food was beautiful. They had everything you could imagine. I had my first pineapple since I left the states! We found potted herb plants, the reddest tomatoes, and apples the size of my fist.

Then, we went on an eight mile walk through the city and eventually the woods to Austria. The weather was goregous. Slovakia is slowly starting to turn green, and I am remembering what a beautiful place I live in this year.

Here are some of the pictures from our walk.

This is the Bratislava Castle.

Our walk led us down to the Danube River.

On Easter morning, we went to church, and heard the same words in English that you did: "Christ is risen. He is risen, indeed, Alleluia." This Gospel message was truly medicine for our hearts. I needed to hear this good news this year.

Later that day, we went to the Easter markets in Old Town Bratislava.

Then we walked around Old Town and took pictures with the statues that welcome the people as they walk down the streets.

For dinner, we got together with the other Americans for a cookout. The people who hosted it have the "penthouse" apartment with a patio on the roof of the building. This is the view of the city from our Easter dinner table.

I had a wonderful Easter with friends who might as well be family.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.

Intro to 4th Year Reformations Theology

2010-04-06T22:44:00.000-07:00

Last semester, my weakest and most difficult class that I taught was the 4th year Reformations Theology. Because this course is a study on the theology of the Reformation and not the history of the reformation, we spent a lot of time discussing the lives of reformers (Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, etc.) and we also read excerpts from some of their most important works. I had an extremely difficult time engaging the students in thought and conversation about the reading and various events in the reformation. The students wanted me to give them the facts so that they could memorize them. I wanted them to explore and ask questions so that we might discover the theology of the reformation together. Unfortunately, I spent the semester incredibly frustrated – and so did my students.

Over Christmas break, I spent a lot of time planning and restructuring my course. In addition to the readings, I have added reading quizzes – so that I know my students are actually reading. I also added hands-on activities involving string (we are in bondage to sin), playdough (re-form-ation), film clips, and more engaging discussion questions. I was hoping that if they could discover reformations theology through play they might find it more appealing – and they might actually try in class. This semester my students have the same readings and the same tests as last semester; however, the class looks and feels very different.

Last week, my fourth years took their first (very difficult, all-essay) test. I am still sorting through the results, but it looks like the students have a much better grasp on the material than my students last semester did. They also seem more content and motivated than last semester.

I thought that I might share with you some of their responses in the journals I require them to keep.

Journal Question: Would you rather know when or how you will die? Are you afraid of death? Why or why not? How does your understanding of death affect the way you think about God?

I am afraid of one thing – that I won’t accomplish all things I want in my life.

I am not afraid of death. Everybody of us will die. That’s part of life. I would say that death is fair but it’s not. Why some young people or children have to die? And why some people can live to the age of 100? It’s not fair.

In my opinion, life doesn’t end with death.

Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your thorn?

I would rather know how I will die. I think that if I know the exact date and time of my death it would scary me. Maybe it’ll be a time for preparing myself to the end of my life, but in my opinion it will scary my mind a lot. I will always be thinking about death which is coming to me. It will be horrible. I’d rather now the manner how I will die and leave this world.
In my opinion, everybody is afraid of death. For me actually it is not really fear better said I am confused about what it would be like after death.

Journal Question: What does reformation mean? Have you ever experienced a reformation? Has Slovakia every experienced a reformation? What would you like to reform in today’s society?

In my life, I have survived personally my reformation. The elder I am, the more sensible and experienced I am. But that happens to everyone. From a child, you will become a teenager and later an adult. Sometimes it is harder, but the outcome is amazing and it is worthy. Or as I watch my friends and their reformations. It is fairly interesting to see how they are growing up, how they are fighting with problem and I like to compare them with me. Or in tv, we all can see how the world is changing, what people are like and how our society is growing.

In our society, I would like to reform the behavior of teenagers. Because the way how they act is just not good for them.

About me? Sure, I certainly have experienced a personal reformation. I am convinced that everyone has gone through some kind of personal reformation. Even I think we all go through some reform every single day.

I have perceived the process of kind of spontaneous reformation in my first year at EGT. It was not a change in life but a change in my look on some things, mostly on school. I realized that even if I don’t study at home, I can almost easily pass in all classes. Sure, not passing at my best, but still passing and with no extremely bad grades. That was the last time when I realized, I do no more have the desire to be one of the best in the class. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad but I like it as it is.

I would surely reform the political system in our country. Politicians who do not have money or some good connecting cannot go to main stage.

If I were God or someone who has power to reform and change the world, I would begin with people. I believe that if people changed, the world would be better.

I think that Slovakia experienced a Reformation in history. It was during Romantic period in Slovakia around 18th century. Slovakia wasn’t a nation or country at that time – Slovakia was part of Hungarian monarchy. Hungarians wanted to take our area and to become one strong Hungary nation. People of Slovakia had to speak Hungarian language instead of Slovak and it was cruel time for our ancesdants. Hopefully there were people who tried to unify our nation and they reformed people by encouraging them that they should be proud of our history and our tradition and language. So after lot of difficulties our language became official and we can freely speak Slovak.

I thought about some reformations in my life and I found out that I made one. My very big reformation was one when I started believing in God. Before that I had many questions about the being and workings of the world. And as I started believing, my life is calmer and I am not as confused.
Slovakia’s greatest reformation, I think was a new regime. The fall of communism was biggest reformation because now everything is easier. We are more free. Communism was hard. People lived in fear. Now we live in peace.

Journal Question: Respond to one of Luther’s quotes on your handout.

“You are not only responsible for what you say, but also for what you do not say.”
To be responsible means to stand up for what you say or do… Luther was a man who had known he is responsible for his words and thus he talked about God and other topics in a right way. That was the way how to start up the reformation. But also, he wanted to show us that if we did not say what we think, we cannot reform, we cannot take a breakthrough due to being quiet… In the end, I would like to sum up those lines in a small idea: the responsibility comes out of our mind (words) and deeds. If we talk in public, things can get better or worse and it is totally the same if we say nothing.

“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection not in books alone but in every leaf in springtime.”
Martin Luther in this quote said that Jesus gave us promise of resurrection, promise of new life in Christ. But this can be found in Bible but also in every leaf in springtime. It means that after long and cold winter every leaf of the tree is an awakening to new life, the leaf is rebirth again. Also, every piece of earth might show us how much God loves us.

“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection not in books alone but in every leaf in springtime.”
The first thing I must write about is why I chose this quote from Martin Luther. Immediately as I read this quote I said, “That’s nice. That’s beautiful.” In the autumn all nature goes to sleep. The flowers wilt, the grass dries out and freeze as all the ground and leaves of trees fall off. After that all nature waits for spring time. In the spring, nature starts waking up and everything, animals or plants, are bringing to life. They are living again and enjoying their lives. People are part of nature also. And we have the same cycle of life as the leaf in Luther’s quote. When we die, we will be resurrected by our Lord and we should trust Him as all the nature does. Because nature is proof of resurrection.

Journal Question: What does the word vocation mean? Do you feel a strong calling in your life? To what are you called and how do you know?

I don’t really feel I am called for doing something special. I like to do many things. While doing them, I feel comfortable and satisfied but I don’t consider them my vocation. On the other hand, you never know what will happen in my future. Maybe I will feel strongly about a vocation. But til that time, there’s poker. I really enjoy playing poker.

Vocation means that you can do heavenly work while you are living on earth. Vocation is something that you have in your inside.

I wanted to be a vet, a lawyer or an interpreter when I was younger. I liked animals, I love studying and I loved languages and still do. I was shy and thought those jobs would be appropriate for me. But I was wrong, I hate biology, laws and so far I have not heard any calling concerning those jobs. But I as I am growing up, I realize I am changing each day. Since I have come to EGT, I have become more self-confident, ambitious, immediate, intelligent and I am better man than I was. I am content with me and I am sure I will make something good and helpful for this world.

Luther also had (a problem with vocation). His father wanted him to be a lawyer but he entered the Augustinian monkhood and later he started up the reformation. I am fairly similar to him. My family wanted me to be a pastor, I wanted to be a diplomat.
Do I feel a strong calling to something? Yes, I do. I feel a strong need to help people. From the age I was seven, I really want to be a doctor. The reason? I don’t know. What I know is that it is the only thing I would like to do. And how do I know? I do not, but I feel it and it is stronger than anything else.

The word vocation means calling. It’s religious term and it means God’s call to everyone, to his every child to whom he gave life. Vocation is connected with all people and it doesn’t matter if they’re Christian or they believe in other religion. God sent us to this world not only to have fun and to be happy. Everyone who was born has some task or responsibility not only for himself but also for others. We’re supposed to take this task and fulfill it. Everyone has talents or gifts. We should use these gifts and talents for helping to others. We should do the heavenly work while we are on earth.

Journal Question: What is faith? Do you agree with Luther’s definition of faith? Why do you think he said that faith was not a belief in doctrine?

People need some kind of support and home what make them stronger and help them survive hard testing of live every day. We need to know that our lives make sense and it is worth waking up in the morning, start a new day, share our lives with others and do something for better life. Faith is trust, belief, hope. Faith helps us make sense of our lives. It is important to believe honestly in something. Every person has some kind of faith. Some people believe in God, some in destiny, some believe in happiness. People need something in which they could believe.

Luther’s understanding of true faith is that faith is God’s work in us, that it is some sort of absolute trust in God and God’s good works in us.

True faith for me is still a mystery, something far away and close at the same time.

Faith means to experience God in everyday life.

In my opinion, faith is kind of like a friendship between two best friends.

Faith is a confident belief in truth. I think maybe I disagree with this. Not everything is about God. What can a person like me who doesn’t in God say about this? I have faith in me, my dad and my horse.

Journal Question: Martin Luther started the reformation because of a personal reformation he experienced due to his own struggles and insecurities. What are you insecure about? What do you struggle with and how do you see this reflected in the world?

In today society, almost nobody is satisfied with his life. Most be struggle with something. It can be anything. For example, some people struggle with the things like their behavior, character, their figure or they struggle with their jobs and stuff like that…. What I really struggle with is myself. I am insecure about me as a person. This only started when I came at high school.

I struggle with my mother. With our relationship. I struggle with addiction to chocolate, sometimes sloth, my figure. People struggle with many important things.

The world is not about how we look in bikins and so on.

I am a Christian and I believe in God – not in Christian church. I don’t think that going ot church every Sunday or even every day I s a duty of a good Christian. I do not go to church very often and I don’t think that it means that I don’t believe in God. I hope you understand what I am trying to say.

Bystrianska Cave

2010-03-23T07:46:00.001-07:00

Now that the sun is out and the grass is slowly reclaiming its green, the American teachers are coming out of winter hibernation. So, this past weekend, we went on a field trip to Bystrianska Cave. (Slovakia has an impressive network of show caves - this cave was the first of a few that we are looking forward to visiting.)

We were not allowed to take pictures, so I pulled these of the Slovak website to share with you.

Perhaps the best part about the cave was the bats! There were little bats the size of your middle finger hanging upside down throughout the cave. At the end, however, we met this guy:

Slovakia is home to over 2,400 caves. Only 400 of them have been thoroughly explored, and of these, 12 of them have been converted into show caves. There are a few more - including an ice cave - that the T-town crew will explore in the next few months. Hopefully, we'll meet more bats!

Three times the birthdays. Three times the fun.

2010-03-15T08:20:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago my friends Rachel, Heidi and I had birthdays on March 10th,12th, and 13th respectively.

Here is a picture of Heidi and Rachel, the other two birthday girls!

To celebrate, the T-Town crew decided to back to the Dubravsky's cabin in Kokava Linia. We left early on Saturday morning, and we were back in Tisovec on Sunday night. Our trip was quick - but we all had some much needed fun and relaxation. The weather was cold in Kokava, and instead of making gulas outdoors, we opted for chili indoors.

We spent Saturday afternoon sitting on this couch: laughing and playing.

We finished our evening this birthday cake that Becky made for the three of us.

On Sunday morning, we had a snowball fight and made snow people. These masterpieces are Betty and Rudy Dubrowsky, our friends who own the cabin.

Eric, sicko that he is, made a snow mouse in light of the fact that he discovered I hate (read: am terrified) of mice - particularly their tails.

If you look closely, you can see its claws. Lovely, huh?
I think he was channeling the giant nutria from The Princess Bride.

All mice aside, my 23rd birthday was wonderful thanks to my T-town family. I enjoyed, as always, spending time with six of the coolest people in Slovakia.
Thanks guys : )

Are You Smarter Than A Second Year? (Round One)

2010-03-04T10:06:00.000-08:00

Last semester, I highlighted the events and discussions of my third year class. This semester, I would like to share with you what we have been talking about in my second year class. If you are a second year student at EGT, you will take one semester of church history with the town pastor and one semester of Old Testament with yours truly.

I really enjoy teaching both second years and Old Testament. For some of them, my class will be the first time they have delved into the drama of the OT. For others, my class will be a review of the stories – but with an additional challenge, because my class is taught in English. My second years have only had a year and a half of academic English, and for this reason, it is challenging for both me and the kids to communicate content. A typical Old Testament lecture begins with a broad question that each of the students will write a short response to and then we will discuss the question as a class. Past questions include: Do you believe in love at first sight? Think of a food that reminds you of a story, and share both the food and the story with the class. What’s the worst trouble you have ever been in, and what were the consequences? Describe one household rule – spoken or unspoken. If you could eat one food for the next forty years of your life, what would you eat? These questions serve a couple of purposes. First, they get the students thinking and talking in English. This helps them transition from their Slovak language classes – and it allows them some additional English practice. (I always tell the students if you want to be a good English speaker, then you should speak English. If you want to be a good English writer, then you should write in English) Second, the questions are somehow related to the Old Testament passage that we will discuss in class. I often use the question to introduce content. It’s also fun to watch the students make the connections between our discussion at the beginning of the class and the story we are studying.

A typical Old Testament lecture involves bizarre drawings on the board, lots of acting, and some Bible reading. For the most part, I treat an OT lecture as story-telling time – with the added bonus of class discussion and real life applications.

The students come to class having read and answered questions from the Bible passage we will be studying and discussing. My students are expected to take notes in class so that they can create an Old Testament storybook with one page describing each lesson we have together. The storybooks are checked with each test that we have. In order to get a 100% on this project, each student should turn in his or her book on time. Each page should have the details of the lesson written out in good, second year English and it should include a picture of an event in the life of Israel. I have drilled into students’ heads that Ms. Large does not grade messy work. After the first part of the storybooks were collected with the first tests, some of my students found out that I mean that.

Here are some of students’ books. Get ready to be impressed with their work. I know I am.

Now that you have this background question, I invite you to take on the challenge: see if you can answer some of the questions from my second year’s first Old Testament test, and ask yourself, “Am I smarter than a Second Year?”

Section One – Matching

1.Ishmael
2.Isaac
3.Esau
4.Rebekah
5.Leah
6.Rachel
7.Jacob
8.Moses
9.Egypt
10.Midian
11.Joseph
12.Zipporah
13.Aaron
14.Zilpah
15.Bilhah
16.Abraham

a. the place where the Israelites lived as slaves
b. Abraham and Sarah’s son
c. Jacob’s first wife
d. the man with whom God made a covenant
e. Esau’s brother; the man who had 12 sons
f. the brother of Moses
g. Leah’s maid, who gave Jacob 2 sons
h. Jacob’s second wife
i. the place to which Moses ran after he killed the Egyptian
j. the place where the Israelites lived as slaves
k. Isaac’s oldest son
l. Rachel’s maid who gave Jacob 2 sons
m. the man who led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt
n. Jacob’s favorite son; the oldest son of his wife Rachel
o. Moses’ wife
p. Abraham and Hagar’s son

Section Two – Fill in the Blanks

1.God’s name is _______________. It means “I AM.”
2.Jacob wrestled with God and was given this name: ________________.
3.We believe the Exodus happened around the year ________________ BC.
4.The Hebrew word “Seder” means ____________________.
5.In God’s covenant with Abraham, God promised him __________________, _____________, and _______________.
6.Jacob tried to steal his brother’s _________________.
7.Jacob worked for a total of _________________ years before he could marry Rachel.
8.________________ was the sign of God’s covenant with Abraham.

Section Three – True or False

____ Jacob had 13 children.
____ Sarah laughed when God told her she would have a son.
____ Moses’ mother put him in a basket and sent him down the Nile River.
Pharoah’s daughter found him, and he was raised an Egyptian prince.
____ God shared with Moses his name from the burning bush on Mt. Sinai.

Section Four – Short Answer

1.What is the Torah? What does the word “torah” mean in Hebrew?
2.Why is Abraham known as “Father Abraham?”
3.What instructions did God give to Moses for Passover?
4.Why were the Israelites in slavery in Egypt?
5.What is the Seder meal? (Who celebrates is? What does this celebration remind them of?)

Because cheating is rampant in the second year class on test days, I usually make anywhere from 2-4 different tests. The questions above are in no way a complete test - instead, they are samples from each of the four tests I gave a couple of weeks ago. I hope you enjoyed this brief trip into the Old Testament : ) Stay tuned for more "Are You Smarter Than A Second Year" as the semester progresses.

Spring Break in the Alps

2010-03-01T09:40:00.000-08:00

Last week, EGT had spring break. It seems a little silly to have a week off of school after having been on winter break just over a month and a half ago. I really wasn't ready to go on another extensive travel trip, but this was our second to last big break and I didn't want to waste the time. The American teachers scattered themselves across Europe. Becky and Eric went to the Ukraine. Whitney and Rachel went to the England and Scotland. Mark stayed in T-Town to work on seminary applications, and Heidi and I travelled to Austria to stay with the host family she lived with when she studied in Austria during high school.

The first leg of our journey was a six hour bus trip to Bratislava. We spent the night there with Phil and Sue, a sweet retired couple, who are also missionary teachers for the ELCA is Bratislava. The next morning, Heidi and I went with them to the Little Church for worship in ENGLISH in the city. It was lovely to hear a Lenten message in our own language. I took notes on the sermon and I have enjoyed reading and re-reading them throughout the last week.

The second leg of our journey consisted of an hour long bus ride to Vienna and then a five hour train ride to Innsbruck, our first destination. Heidi's host brother, Emanuel, a twenty-four year old student at the university in Innsbruck, met us at the train station and took us back to his flat. We spent two days with Emanuel in Innsbruck and enjoyed every minute of it!

On Monday, we spent the morning hiking and the afternoon riding a cable car to the top of the Alps.

On our way up the mountains, we stopped by an old Jewish cemetery.

After about an hour of hiking, we hopped on the cable car and headed up the mountain. This me, a little stressed. I have issues with heights.

This is the view from the cable car window.

These are the Alps.

Here is a bird's eye view of Innsbruck.

On Tuesday, we went on a hike through the hills of Austria and into the Alps.

These hills were ALIVE with the sound of music.

"High on the hill was the lonely goatherd. Lay ee odl Lay ee old oo."

"When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad!"

"Do, a deer a female deer. Ray, a drop of golden sun! Mi, a name I call my self. Fa, a long, long way to run. So, a needle pulling thread. La, a note to follow so. Ti, a drink with jam and bread. And that will bring us back to do."

"Edelweiss, edelweiss. Every morning you greet me. Small and white, clean and bright."

"Climb every mountain, ford every stream."

The trail we took led us up the mountain to a small chapel. Along the way, we passed the Stations of the Cross.

Here's the prayer chapel.

We had a snow ball fight at the top of the mountain, and then we came back down to do some shopping in town and to make dinner togther. Emanuel told us to "style up" (his phrase) and then he took us out for drinks.

On Wednesday, Heidi and I took a train from Innsbruck to Bregenz, Austria. Heidi's host family lives just off the Lake of Constance - which, I have decided, is my favorite place in all of Europe.

We spent Wednesday evening walking around the lake. The mountains in the distance are the Swiss Alps.

On Thursday, we took the train to Lindau, Germany and spent the morning exploring. We had coffee with Klaudia, Heidi's host mom, and then we walked home.

This is the small town of Lindau.

In Lindau Harbor, there is a lighthouse.

This is the lion that guards the harbor.

The Lake of Constance is full of swans : )

Later that afternoon, Heidi and I hiked Pfander, the mountain in her family's backyard. We took the cable car down, and Heidi's host mom picked us up at the foot of the mountain.

This is the cross at the very top of Pfander.

This is the reward we got for our hike. What a view!

Then, we went into the Alps to buy CHEESE. After spending five minutes in the cheese place, I can say with complete confidence that I know where the phrase, "Who cut the cheese?!" originated from. The cheese STUNK. I made sure that the cheese Heidi brought to take home was vacuum sealed. (I was worried about getting kicked off the train on the way home.)

The woman who worked in the cheese place was sweet enough to show us around.
This is the cheese locker room. The rounds of cheese (which are very, very heavy) sit in this room to age for one year. Three times a week, a worker will wash the cheese down with salt water to help enhance its flavor.

On Friday, Heidi and I spent the morning in Bregenz. We walked into town and did some shopping. We hit some second hand stores and enjoyed the ability to buy things that we couldn't get in Tisovec.

On Saturday, Heidi's other host brother Sebi came home from Switzerland to spend the day hiking with us. We hiked a small mountain a couple of towns away.

Because the weather was nice, the ice was melting. The trails were a muddy mess.

Still, the view is always worth the trip.

On our way home from the hike, Sebi took Heidi and I into Switzerland to buy some swiss chocolate. Later that evening, we had dinner with Heidi's host family and then hopped on the night train to Vienna. 22.5 hours, two bus rides and a train ride later, we were finally home in Tisovec. I have never been in a more beautiful place than the Alps. I think I'm in love. Still, I'm happy to be back in T-Town. T-Town is also beautiful in the spring time.

Friday Night Lights

2010-03-01T09:33:00.000-08:00

This semester, Eric and I are hosting a Bible Study along with the rest of the American teachers. The Bible Study is on Tuesday nights at my house at 6pm. Each week the number of students who comes gets bigger. We are expecting close to thirty people at our house tomorrow.

Bible Study consists of hang out time, an episode of the TV show Friday Night Lights and discussion afterwards. We usually bring the school projector to my flat and watch the TV show on our wall. Sometimes we pop popcorn. Sometimes we drink tea or hot chocolate. The atmosphere is open and relaxed, and the teachers look forward to Tuesday nights as much as the students do.

So far, Tuesday night Bible Study has been challenging because religion has a negative connotation at EGT. Students are generally turned off by the words "Bible" and "study," and they come up with all kinds of crazy excuses to avoid saying "yes" to an invitation to come. All of this changed though when they found out that we would be watching an American TV show and that it would be at a teacher's house.

Our discussions are not very deep. Right now, Eric and I are focusing on developing the group's identity and purpose. We are hoping to foster a sense of trust in the group so that we can dig deeper into issues of life and faith. I am excited to say that the Holy Spirit is really working hard on Tuesday nights, and I can't wait to see where we are led.

Here's a picture of our group sans Rachel who was taking the photo. Notice that it's all girls and Eric.

Choose the Title of This Blog:

2010-03-01T09:03:00.000-08:00

1. A "Cultural" Experience
2. A Misdiagnosis
3. Why I Will Never Go To A Slovak Doctor Again

About two weeks ago, I woke up on Monday morning and realized that I could not pee. I cannot tell you how unsettling it is to have your morning routine interrupted by an inability to do something you've never really had trouble doing before. Deciding that I could handle the situation, I drank about 3/4 of a liter of cranberry juice that I had leftover from my kidney stone escapade. About twenty minutes later, I still not only could not pee BUT I was extremely uncomfortable. I was certain that if I waited long enough this problem would resolve itself. The laws of urination should correspond to the laws of gravity: if what goes up must come down then what goes in must come out. I got dressed and gingerly walked to school. The first thing I did when I got there was stop by the bathroom. Nothing happened. I got ready for my day in the staff room and began to feel more and more uncomfortable. With visions of my bladder bursting, I decided that there was no way that I could teach.

I quickly found the school secretary. "Martina," I said in a pathetic voice, "I need to go to the doctor right now." Martina immediately got on the phone and two minutes later she announced that the doctor would see me now. Then, Martin and I went to the locker room ro find a student I could take with me to the doctor to translate. My heart sunk when I saw that there were only third years in the locker room. (I love the third years, but I was hoping for someone who had more advanced English.) Scanning the room, I spotted Dominika, one of my brightest thid years from last semester. "Dominika," I asked, "Would you mind coming with me to the doctor to translate for me?" When she said she would love to (she was going to miss her biology test), I told her to bring her dictionary.

The doctor's office was a block away from the school. Dominika and I walked upstairs and proceded to sit (miserably) for two hours. In Slovakia, waiting rooms are free-for-alls. The first person to wrestle his or her way to the examinationroom wins. Okay, that may be an exaggeration - actually, you just try to keep track of who is ahead or and behind you and take your turn accordingly. In theory this seems to be a good idea. In practice, it can get ugly. Dominika and I used our time in the waiting room to discuss and translate my symptoms so that she could explain them in Slovak to the doctor.

When we finally got to the examination room door, I was dismayed to discover that the doctor we had waited for for two hours was a pediatrician. In Slovak, the doctor explained to Dominika that she wasn't sure she could see me. After two hours of waiting, and knowing that if this doctor couldn't treat me I would have to go a couple of towns over to see one, I told Dominika to tell the doctor that I was very uncomfortable. We had waited two hours and this doctor was going to help me. Dominika nervously conveyed this message. When the doctor motioned for me to sit down on the examination table, I knew she had agreed to see me. Dominika began explaining my symptoms in Slovak: I passed a kidney stone the week before, I was feeling better after this, I only experienced mild burning during urination but that went away three days after the kidney stone, I woke up this morning and could not pee, I had consumed almost a liter of cranberry juice and still could not relieve myself, etc.

Please note: the doctor did not take my weight, temperature or blood pressure. She also never took a urine sample. Instead, she felt along my right arm. After a few minutes, she pursed her lips and began speaking in rapid Slovak to my student. When I heard Dominika say, "Co?!" (WHAT?!), I started to get nervous. "What's wrong?" I asked Dominika. "Moment," she responded and began flipping through her dictionary. When she located the correct word, Dominika announced, "The doctor says you have gonnorhea, and you should see a gynecologist." I sat there for a second staring stupidly at my student. Then, after a couple of terrifying images of a visit to a Slovak gynecologist WITH MY THIRD YEAR STUDENT TRANSLATING flashed through my mind, I beecame irrationally angry. Not only was I feeling miserable, but now I was convinced this doctor was not going to help. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I lied. "Dominika," I enunciated said through clenched teeth, "Tell the doctor that my mother is a doctor at a hospital in the United States. She says I have a urinary tract infection and that I need an antibiotic to treat it." I glowered the entire time Dominika translated, and I felt only marginally better when the pediatrician consented and unhappily wrote me a prescription.

Dominika and I walked to the pharmacy from the doctor's office, and on the way, I explained to her that I did NOT have gonnorhea, and then I taught her the English word "confidential."

About ten hours and two doses of antibiotics later, I was feeling much, much better. I decided to go online and see what magic pills the crazy doctor had prescribed. Imagine my surprise when I learned that medication I was given was primarily for the treatment of gonnorhea and infections of the genitals. At this point, Heidi and I decided to email her father (a doctor in Tanzania) to see if this medication would treat what we assumed was a UTI. Heidi's dad was appalled at the medication I had been taking. His exact words were, "Heavens, that is a heavy duty antibiotic. No bacteria alive in her system! Poor things." The good news was that my infection (along with everything else in my body) would be completely wiped out!

This experience did nothing to increase my confidence in the Slovak medical system. So, while we were in Austria for spring break, Heidi's host dad from when she lived in Austria during high school took me to his medical practice and checked me out. I received a clean bill of health. He even wrote and filed a prescription to dilate my ureters in case I ever have another kidney stone. The man is a saint!

It's been two weeks and I feel fine. I think I can even laugh about everything that happened. I have no plans to see a Slovak doctor again.

Ples

2010-03-01T08:53:00.001-08:00

On February 12th, our fourth years hosted Ples, the school's annual ball. After a long week with school, I wasn't sure that I wanted to polka, waltz and cha cha the night away. None of the other Americans seemed excited either. Because the fourth years specifically invited us and genuinely hoped we would come, we all put on our suits and ties, dresses and panty hose, and we went. Everyone ended up having a great time. The evening began a 6pm. It included a program, dinner, and lots of dancing. The attire at Ples was very formal = most of our students wore prom dresses and suits with jackets.

As is Slovak custom, the dancing until midnight was very formal. Our students are expected to polka, tango, waltz, etc --- and they can! Dancing is a serious component of Slovak culture - I have yet to meet a Slovak who has no rhythm. At this point some of you may be thinking, "Yeah, but Meghan you are a terrible dancer!" You are correct. I can't even clap on beat. Still, my students loved teaching me the steps. Kiko, a fourth year, asked me to polka with him. I quickly explained that he would have to show me how. Laughing, we both stepped out onto the dance floor - and after about thirty seconds of dancing, Kiko told me he was going to charge me for the lesson. "You'll get my bill on Monday," he told me. Then the PTA President, Rudy (one of my favorite Slovaks), told me he had been saving a dance all night just for me. We danced and Rudy started counting for me: "One, two. One, two." When I was still having trouble, he said, "Focus, Meghan. Focus!" Even with all my missteps, I had a great time with the students.

Here are pictures from Ples:

Smiling in Your Kidneys May Cause Trouble

2010-02-13T09:02:00.001-08:00

Every morning, I have declard that Heidi and I will spend a few minutes in "Smile Meditation." This means: In the morning, I turn on a happy song (Soul Sister by Train, Somewhere of the Rainbow by Brotha Iz, Circle of Life from the Lion King, anything Casting Crowns or Kanye West, etc.), and Heidi and sit on the floor sans shoes and SMILE for the whole song. In case you are wondering, yes, at first it hurts your face to smile for three to five minutes. BUT if you do it enough, you'll have strong cheek muscles. Heidi and I have the strongest faces!

I have read that when you do smile meditation you are supposed to "smile in your liver." I love this image. I joked and asked Heidi on the first morning we were smiling (or more accurately - while our cheeks were spasming), "Heidi, are you smiling in your kidneys?" Usually, she and I end up giggling at each other.

After a couple of weeks smile meditation, I am a complete convert and believer. Taking a few minutes out to greet the morning with smiles is a wonderful way to begin the day.

Two weeks ago, we had a three day weekend because we were celebrating the end of first semester and the beginning of the second. Heidi, Rachel and I decided to go to Krakow, Poland and see the salt mines and the dragon for the weekend. On Friday, we left Tisovec and stopped in Cieszyn at the halfway point to spend the night with our Polish teacher friends Colleen and Sarah. We had a fabulous time.

The next morning, I was the first to wake up. I hopped in the shower, and then woke Heidi up so she could get ready. By the time Rachel was in the shower, I was eating breakfast with Colleen when suddenly, I realized that I had to pee very badly. When Rachel was done, I scrambled into the bathroom, and sat down on the toilet, and nothing happened. I have never experienced this before. I realized that something was probably wrong with my plumbing. Even though I was uncomfortable, I wasn't in any pain. Perplexed, I explained what was going on to the girls, then I packed my stuff up and walked with them across down to the bus station so that we could go to Krakow.

By the time we walked across town, I folded from an erect standing position to a ninety degree angle. I had broken out into a cold sweat and I was in serious pain. There was no way I was going to be able to sit on the bus for three hours let alone spend the weekend exploring Krakow. I decided to stay in Cieszyn. After Colleen and I saw the girls off, we headed to Kauflands for cranberry juice. Buying cranberry juice in Central Europe is tricky. Neither Colleen nor I knew the Polish word for "cranberry" and there were no pictures of cranberries on the juice cartons. Most small towns (like Tisovec) do not even sell cranberry juice. I was thankful Colleen lived in a larger city. I left the guesswork and purchasing to Colleen and opted for sitting in the Kauflands bathroom for about fifteen minutes hoping to urinate. I definitely got my twenty cents worth out of that trip to the bathroom.

After Kauflands, we stopped by an apteka (a pharmacy). Colleen rocked the apteka. When we walked in, she said to the woman behind the counter, "Mam (I have) ona (she)," and then whipped out her phrasebook and said the Polish word for urinary tract infection. The woman took one look at me and immediately understood. She brought three different boxes of medication back to the counter and began explaining the particulars to me in Polish. I understood none of it. So, when she was done, I pointed to the first box. "Dobsha?" I asked. (Good?) I did the same thing with the second and third boxes. Each time the woman nodded. Then, I asked, "Dobsha, DOBSHA?" and shrugged my shoulders with the question. (Which one is good GOOD or the best?) The woman pointed to the third box. "Tak," I said. YES. That's the one I wanted.

When we got home, Colleen (my best friend on this continent)brought me cranberry juice and medicine while I sat doubled over on her toilet for a couple of hours. She also spent time on google's translator so that we knew more about the medication I was taking. All we learned was that this medication could be taken in conjunction with anitbiotics and that I could have anywhere from 2 to 6 pills a day. I had six pills that day. During this time, Sarah spent time with WebMD (my doctor away from home). We decided that my symptoms best matched a UTI, a kidney stone and some scary bladder syndrome. We all banked on the UTI.

At this point, some of you may be wondering why I didn't go to the hospital/doctor. The answer is: Doctors are scary in Central Europe. The nurses do not always even have a secondary education (although this is changing now that Slovakia is part of the European Union). Doctors prescribe bizarre medications, and some of them clearly do not know what they are doing. The American teachers here have had some pretty questionable experiences with doctors. Usually, we avoid people in the medical profession at all costs. Colleen and I made an agreement that if either she or I thought that I needed to go to the doctor, we would go to the hospital in Cieszyn and hope that we could find someone to translate for us. We also had Katka's mother on our reserve list. (Katka is one of my brightest third years, and her mother is a physician a few towns away from Tisovec. I felt confident that she would be a good doctor to see.)

I was miserable for about 24 hours. It turns out that I had a kidney stone. As soon as I passed that sucker I felt immediate relief. I was exhausted for the next week, but I guess that's what happens when you pass a kidney stone on cranberry juice and tylenol.

I am now feeling much, much better. I must, however, add a disclaimer about smile meditation: Smiling in your kidneys may cause trouble. Do not smile so hard that your kidneys smile. I think it causes them stress.

Reflections on January - Part 2

2010-02-13T08:32:00.001-08:00

This might shock some of you, but a couple of years ago, my mother nicknamed me "the tornado." (I have no idea why!) Perhaps I earned this moniker because I am only happy when I am moving. Perhaps it's because she says that whenever I enter the room, the volume increased by several decibal units. (She also says that when I leave the room she has a new appreciation for silence.)

I guess in that vein, I must issue the disclaimer that I am constantly looking to challenge myself. In the light (or in Slovakia, the lack of light) in the New Year, I have several goals to work towards.

1. To practice meditation.

I have been doing a lot of reading on meditative practices, yoga and contemplative prayer, and I am working towards being still. (Tornado? HA!) Usually, I begin my mornings with sun salutations, and then tackle meditation. Sometimes I listen to Gregorian chant, sometimes I pray the rosary. Often, I use breath prayers and prayer chants to center myself. I am not going to say that meditation is not an uphill battle, but I am enjoying stretching myself.

2. To brush up on my Spanish and continue to absorb the Slovak around me.

For those of you who do not know, I am going to be serving in Alto Cayma, Peru next year. Because of this, I have had to uncover, dust off, and - in some cases - learn anew Spanish. So, along with reviewing vocabulary and verb conjugations, journaling in Spanish and reading Spanish newspapers for my daily news fix, I have also ordered Twilight in espanol. Hopefully, this will be a fun way to study the language.

As for Slovak, I have to say this language is absolutely crazy. Slovak has completely different verb tenses. It lacks articles ("a," "an," and "the"), and it is difficult to pronounce. Still, I am learning a lot more Slovak than I thought I would. I didn't realize how much I had learned until I was in Italy and opened my mouth to speak and Slovak started coming out. I am by no means as fluent as a four year old; however, I can get by in most situations. I tell my students that I have Slovak "in my heart." They usually just laugh at me while I butcher their language.

3. To find positive energy and bring it home.

Post-communist Slovakia in the wintertime is depressing. It's frigid and bleak outside. At winter solstice, we were averaging 7-8 hours of sun a day. (Most of that time was spent indoors at school.) Also, now that I have been in Slovakia for six months, I have a new appreciation for the communist cancer that infected this society. While Slovakia, is certainly in remission, the scars of communism are very present. People in Slovakia are satisfied with the status quo. Most of the people I have encountered want to do as little as possible to get by. In fact, there are a good number of people who will proudly announce to you that they are lazy. They wear their laziness as a badge of honor and as a shield against challenge and hard work. To be fair, this is certainly not true of everyone in Slovakia; however, there is a strong majority of people who prefer complacency. Unfortuantely, those who are turned-on and inspired often leave the country because there are better opportunities in Western Europe. (This is referred to as the "brain drain" - anyone who could work towards change in Slovakia ends up leaving.)

The American teachers have struggled with complacency in students. We have grown up in a society that stresses achievement and hard work. It is often difficult to relate to people who simply don't care.

It is interesting to note that there is a growing population of people who have said they would rather live under communism than democracy. They reflect upon the "good ole days" when everyone earned the same amount of money regardless of their work ethic and habits. Slovakia will have elections in June, and it will be interested to see which parties end up being elected to lead the nation.

Because of all of this, I have decided that Heidi and I are going to feng shui the house. We have learned, read, and ANNOTATED notes about chi, flow, compass directions, and more. We are conscious of circulating the air in our flat (opening window - even if it's below zero). We are also conscious of the lighting and colors in our house. There is no longer a mirror facing our beds. We have eliminated clutter and are working towards incorporating specific colors for different locations in our home. We are also conscious of being positive about what we say and think when we are frustrated with Slovakia. Who knows? Feng Shui/Thinking Positively seems to be working : ).

Reflections on January - Part 1

2010-02-09T01:55:00.000-08:00

With the end of January came the end of my first semester teaching. As a teacher, I have learned more than I could ever imagine. I have certainly learned more than my students! The end of the semester was particularly challenging because we had to turn in first semester grades. This was my first experience giving grades that "count" towards a transcript, a univerity, a future, etc. This was almost my first experience dealing with irate students, parents and class teachers. After "Marks Week" was over, I was convinced that I was not cut out for teaching.

My classes are not easy; however, I do everything in my power to help students succeed in class. Because my religion class must be taught for content but also in English, my students are tested twice: through their English abilities and on mastery of class content. I am very aware of this fact. Some of my students really struggle with English and this limits their ability to understand and retain information given during lectures and through assignments. I have learned to speak SLOWLY (I know that's hard to believe!). I also give each student a comprehensive study guide with fifty or so possible test questions on it a week before the test. Essentially the study guide covers everything we have discovered in class. The students have a week to complete it, and we have a review session the class before a test. For many of my gifted students, class is easy - but interestingly enough, because they see the same material THREE times (lecture, study guide and review), they remember most of what we have learned. Most of my students rocked the cumulative exam. Unfortunately, some of my students bombed it. When asked them what happened, almost all of them admitted to me that they did not study. This is a problem. (On each study guide I write: "Please study hard so that you will do well. If you do not study hard, you will probably not do well." On each test I write: "Ziaci, if you have studied, you will do very well! If you have not studied, I wish you the best of luck.")

For your information, here is the assigned grading scale for religon classes:

90 - 100 = 1
78 - 89 = 2
64 - 76 = 3
50 - 63 = 4
0 - 49 = 5

It has taken me a while to adjust to the fact that a mastery of only 50% of a particular class is passing; however, education is Slovakia is radically different than in the United States.

After I posted grades, I was flabbergasted to discover that some of my students wanted me to change their grades. "Ms. Large, can you give me a four?" they asked. I frowned at them asked them if they thought grades fell from the sky. Then I explained to them that teachers do not give grades. Students earn them. There was nothing that I could do to change their grades. Then, I walked them through their grades - the fact that they did not turn in homework, projects, etc. I wanted them to see that they had legitimately earned a particular grade. Sadly, the fact that I would not change a student's grade angered students, parents and their class teachers. You see for most people, religion class is not considered an academic subject at EGT, and it is embarrassing to receive a grade below a 2. For most of that week and into the next, people across the board were pretty upset with me. Such is the life of a teacher, I suppose.

Once I got back into the "teaching routine" with my students, I felt much better about teaching in general. I love being in the classroom. My new students and I have completed our first two weeks together, and we seem to be doing very well. I have new faces and new names to learn, and it is much easier matching the two this time around because I know how to pronounce everyone's names! I am also excited to have the opportunity to do everything over again - all the lessons, the journals, the tests, etc. This gives me the change to tweak, improve, and measure how I have grown as a teacher after six months.

In other news, the head of the religion department will be in the United States for two months beginning next week. I will be teaching three of her first year classes and a fifth year seminar in addition to my regular class load each week. I am a little nervous about 25 hours of class a week; however, it needs to be done. I realized yesterday that by the end of the year, I will have taught every student at EGT - except for about 15 first years and 30 fifth years! How cool is that?

This semester will fly by, and before I know time will have taken off ahead of me and I will be hopping on a plane to head home.

Biographies of Jesus

2010-02-01T03:18:00.001-08:00

The first semester concluded as the month of January ended. I asked my third year students to demonstrate what they have learned in Life and Teachings of Jesus class by writing a three page biography of Jesus. At the end of this biography, I asked for them to reflect on what they personally have learned about Jesus.

On the day these papers were due, I the students handed in four, fix and six page papers. I was a little confused, and I asked the students - "Ziaci, how long was this paper supposed to be?" (I was thinking - "Surely, I didn't assign a five page paper for third years.") The students responded, "Ms. Large it was a three page paper, but we had a lot to say."

Here is a collection of biographical excerpts on the life of Jesus written by the third years: (*As usual, I have not changed their vocabulary/grammar.)

"We usually start writing biographies by the birth but in this case it is card because as we understand it, Jesus’ existence did not really begin by his birth. It began with God."

"The story of Jesus starts before Jesus was born, when a lot of prophets were talking about a new king that will come. Jews thought that it will be some great warrior, who will change the political situation and will give them a new hope that they could be a strong nation."

"Jesus was one of the most important people in history of the whole world. His story of his life, teaching and death is well-known and very important for many people. Jesus, who is also known as Christ, The Son of God or King, was born in Israel around 6 BC."

"One day, there was a census ordered and so Joseph had to travel to his hometown. He took Mary with him and went to Bethlehem. Unfortunately, there was no room for them in the inn and Mary finally gave birth to Jesus. The biggest king of all kings was born and he was named Jesus what means Emmanuel – God with us… Jesus’ birth meant and still means as much for people as nothing else. He was the expected one. He was the one who came to save us. He was the one who should die in a terrible way hoping people will understand and follow him… Although Mary knew he was God’s son, none of them Mary nor Joseph knew what was Jesus’ duty here on Earth. It was a small paradox – the king expected by Jews should have been powerful and strong so he could easily defeat their enemies but instead there was a child lying in a manger."

"The warrior king was expected to come as a savior, but came as a humble baby came to save the world."

"There is the city of Bethlehem which means House of Bread, Mary gave birth to Jesus our Savior."

"Then, appeared star, which pointed the place of his birth so everyone could come there to honor him. Also the wisemen from the East came and gave him presents – gold, frankincense, and myrrh as the symbols of Jesus as king, as a priest and as a sacrifice FOR OUR SINS. King Herod, the contemporary ruler of the country wanted Jesus to be killed, because he was afraid of the prediction that he was going to be the next king. In that time, Herod did not know that Jesus’ kingdom wouldn’t be from this world, but it would be the kingdom of heaven."

"Jesus lived in an age when people lived in houses made from mud and brick which had been dried in the sun. Houses were usually two-story and four-roomed. These houses had flat roofs because of need of catching rainwater in large jars. On the first floor was usually a kitchen with firepit which was near the window and there were also animals. And on the second floor were rooms for sleeping. People at that time at grain bread and lots of dairy like milk, cheese and butter. Fish and chicken could eat everyone but only people who were wealthy could eat meat like beef or lamb. For dinking was common drink wine."

"As you know, Jesus’ parents were poor and lived because of their hard working, so Jesus knew what it means to be hungry and poor."

"Jesus was baptized in river Jordan by John the Baptist when he was 30 years old. After his baptism, Holy Spirit flew down as the dove and voice from heaven said, “this is my son the Beloved with whom I am well-pleased.” Then Jesus was led to desert by Holy Spirit where he was tempted by devil who wanted Jesus to bow down."

"During the act of his baptism, the heavens opened and there was a presence of Holy Trinity. Jesus’ main messages of his teaching were that God loves us and is always with us, that we should love each other, that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near and that God forgives us our sins if we are sorry for it."

"Jesus decided to call twelve disciples to help him bring people to his father."

"Jesus came to Galilee and met two brothers – Simon/peter and Andrew – who were fishermen and told them, “Follow me and I will manage you while you fish for people.”

"Jesus gave us many parables telling about ordinary people but symbolizing God’s house and the way God wants us to be. He also taught about LOVE. The most important thing in the whole world and the only thing that can lead us to heaven."

"Then Jesus went all over Galilee where he was teaching in synagogues, he was healing sick and those with demons and the messages about Him spread quickly through the whole country."

"But as Jesus’ popularity grew, the number of his enemies grew too."

"Some people did not like what Jesus was doing and that he proclaimed himself as a Son of God and break some rules which was given by Jewish people at that time. So they wanted him to be dead."

"Pharisees and Sadducees often wanted to trap Jesus and they asked him a lot of questions with which they thought would accuse him of blasphemy."

"Another reason the Pharisees and Sadducees don’t like Jesus was that He was sitting with sinners. Jesus told us that he didn’t come for righteousness people, but for sinner. Sick people need doctor, but no healthy people."

"The last periods of his life were death and resurrection. Jesus had foretold His death. He knew that will happen to him. He had a last supper with his disciples of which in the middle He blessed the bread with the words that it is His body and the wine with the words it is his blood."

People wish for his death because he was not the king people had expected. He was charged with blasphemy, claiming to be the king of the Jews and breaking the laws of Moses. So Jesus was brutally tortured and then crucified with two thieves. Jesus died on a cross."

"Jesus – the biggest person in the world ever, that was both human and God, that came to wash away the sin of people. He loved people and led himself to die for them."

"And when he died there wasn’t light for six hours and the curtain that was in the Holy of Holies ripped which probably symbolized that you don’t have to give the offerings any more because Christ paid everything on the cross. He was killed, put to grave, but in three days, he was alive again."

"Few days after resurrection, Jesus appeared to disciples. Thomas wasn’t there when Jesus came so he did not believe. A week later Jesus appeared to Thomas and he could touch his hands and side. Then he believed."

"Before he left he has told his disciples to go to the whole world and baptize people in the name of God. So it happened that the Holy Spirit came among them and they were spread out to the whole world and shared this."

"We are Christians and as God followers we have some kind of assurance that we will never die. It gives us hope and that’s the reason why the church exists for thousands of years and will exist till the end of the world."

"I really enjoyed talking about God with the others in class. Some of them do not believe in God and it is sometimes more interesting to talk to such people and to listen to their ideas. Before classes we used to talk about what we have written in our journals. This way we knew what the other things about that theme and we were discussing it."

"In my opinion, I don’t really know what I should if Jesus and God and all these things around exist. Because I don’t think thousands of letters in hundreds of books can prove that something really was and exist. But if I say that Jesus really lived some time on this planet I would say he had a very difficult life full of suffering… Maybe he believed that when he once died for us people will realize it and won’t do all these bad things and sins again, but they still do."

"In conclusion, I want to say that I have learnt a lot of new things on your lessons, which I had not known before. And it is good to know for me, because it forced me to think about God and Jesus. I cannot say that now I definitely believe in Jesus, but I can say it is kind of different for me now."

"And what I think about Jesus and his life? Surely I believe Jesus is Son of God. And I am also fascinated with description of His life. I like to read it, but sometimes when I read it there are things which I think could not happen or better explanation could happen but not exactly like the gospels say. We cannot be sure with all the words in it. After all, it was written by people and a lot of years after Jesus’ death. But I believe that the majority of what is written in the gospels is true. I like the parables which jesus told people. The right meaning is sometimes hard to find but when we comprehend it, it gives us good example how to behave and also it shows us how it will be when Son of Man comes to earth again. But to be truthful, I do not believe that 5,000 people get full with five loaves of bread and two fishes and also I do not believe that Jesus was walking on water. I do not have an explanation why I do not believe it happened. I think that in my case a reason won over the belief."

"Well, this is the story about Jesus. There are a lot of people that say, that’s not true! How could it happen? Is it really like that? Some people are just suspected of what the others believe and they’d rather believe something else. For them this is not real. It’s just a story that goes with Christmas and makes nice atmosphere when it walks about the baby born in manger, but they only do it for the atmosphere. And then, there are people that really believe it and that try to live like the Bible says and they say it’s surely true. I say: “Why shouldn’t it be true?” I guess I would be in the second group of people."

"And my opinion? I’m still not sure about it. As you know I’m a not-believer and I don’t think my opinion has changed, but it was still interesting teaching."

"I have learned to see Jesus where other people think he is not. I have learned to think about him much more than before. I have also got deeper in religion and faith. There are things I have never been thinking about. To tell the truth, I had never been thinking as much as I have been in this class. I thought I am a good Christian with strong faith but as I was reading through the Bible and working on my journals I found myself confused. I realized that I understand less with every new parable and miracle. Suddenly, I saw new meanings and vice versa – I gave up some ideas because they did not fit to what I found out."

Thanks be to God for the life and witness of the third years.

New Years and Beyond

2010-02-01T03:17:00.001-08:00

Colleen and I ended up homeless on New Years.

Well, I guess it wasn't quite that dramatic. Because of the transportation strike in Italy and because we had to be re-routed away from Bratislava, Colleen and I spent New Years walking around downtown Vienna (with all our stuff) looking for a place to spend the night. Unfortunately, there was no room in anyone's inn. As it got colder and as the New Year's parties started to get wilder, we decided to take a taxi to the north part of the city and spend the night at the airport McDonalds. Neither Colleen nor I have very fond, warm or restful memories of our New Years in Vienna.

It was at about 3:30 in the morning while we were eating our second euro burger that Colleen figured out why we were stuck spending the night with Ronald McDonald. We had swindled the Almighty and this was our punishment. In Venice the day before, Colleen and I had an extra day to wander through the town. We decided to stop at one of the many Catholic churches in Venice and light a candle for travel blessings for our journey back into Austria. As I lit the prayer candle, Colleen dug in her purse for the 40 cents that was requested for the candle. When she could only find thirty cents, I shrugged, "Don't worry about the last 10 cents," I told her. Famous last words.

I will never cheat Jesus out of ten cents again.

The next day, I was supposed to go to Frankfurt, Germany to meet Hope Brown (a very dear friend who I have grown up with)and Colleen was heading home to start school again. As I sat in Westbahnhof (the West Train Station in Vienna) waiting for my train, I kept myself awake by trying to decide who smelled worse - me or the guys sitting next to me who were clearly just beginning to suffer the effects from last night's party. This will give you an idea of how poor New Year's was: I considered it a success that the test as to who smelled worse was a toss-up.

I arrived in Frankfurt about an hour late, but ready to see someone from home. Hope and I stayed with Christine, one of our friends from college. It did my heart good to see a face from home. We spent our first few hours together hugging, crying, and eating real German schnitzel.

The next day, Christine and her boyfriend chauffeured us into Frankfurt ON THE AUTOBAHN. We got up to 145mph! (Don't worry, Mom, we didn't go that fast for very long.) Then, we spent the next day exploring the city. This is the square where we spent most of our time.

On Sunday, we got up early so that we could go to Eisenach and worship at the church where Martin Luther grew up.

Here is Martin himself, keeping watch over town square in Eisenach.

This is Georgenkirche where Luther sang as a choir boy. This is also the church were Bach was baptized.

After worship, we hiked to Wartburg Castle. Luther was hidden here by Frederick the Wise who had "kidnapped" him for his protection after Luther had refused to recant his beliefs at the Diet of Worms. He lived here in disguise as Junker Jorg (Knight George). It was in this castle that he translated the New Testament into German.

Here is the view of the castle at the beginning of our hike:

This is my friend Hope : )

This is the castle as your are walking up the trail to the drawbridge.

The view from the castle gate:

This is the castle grounds as you enter through the gate.

We were delighted to see that doves had nested on the window ledges.

Hope and I were freezing by the time we got back to the train station. Unfortunately, we had serious train delays on our way home because of the snow storm. Hope got to experience what life is like in Europe --- walking, waiting for a train and then running to make your next connection when your first train is late. Still, we made it home with no real problems.

On Monday morning, we left Bad Nauheim on the commuter train that would take us into Frankfurt. We were going to Brugges, Belgium. We couldn't have been more excited - even if it was 5:30 in the morning. Then, our train had to be re-routed because of a medical emergency on the tracks the next train stop over. Because of this, we had to race to our next connection from Frankfurt to Brussells. We made it by about 30 seconds.

When we got on the train, I realized immediately that something was off. The train we were on had a different number than the one on our ticket; however, the destination and platform numbers were the same. I wasn't sure what to make of this, and there are never people around to help when you need them, so Hope and I sat down and caught our breath. Within thirty minutes, the train conductor came by to check our tickets. He immediately realized that we were on the wrong train, and somewhere in the midst of threatening to fine us fifty euros, I reminded him that we had a Eurail pass which allowed for unlimited travel on any train in Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands and France. Unhappily, this man explained to us that there were actually two trains connected together at the platform in Germany. They would be traveling together until Brussells and then they would split and go to separate destinations. Then he angrily "advised" us to get off as quickly as we could in Brussells so that we could "try to make it" to the correct train. (In Slovakia, which is not a serious travel destination, there is only one train at each platform, so this "connected train" issue was new for me.)

In Brussells, Hope and I hopped off the train and sprinted straight down the platform to catch our train to Brussells. Regrettably, we were only on this train for twenty minutes when the conductor announced that the train had lost traction on the tracks because of the snow and ice. We had been operating at 25% traction, and they did not want to risk an accident. So, we were taken back to the Brussells train station. This was disappointing news for Hope and I because it meant that we missed our train connection from Brussells to Belgium.

After an hour, we left on a train at the same platform and on the same set of tracks as those we had been on before. Thankfully, on our second try, we were able to get to Brugges from Brussells with no other problems.

Brugges is a beautiful city in the northern part of Belgium. Because it is not far from the United Kingdom, it is a popular holiday destination for the British. I have heard some people compare Brugges to Venice because it too is situated on the water.

Like Prague, Brugges is known for its red roofs.

We spent our first day in Brugges getting acquainted with the city. We did some window shoppping and some real shopping - something I hadn't done since I left home. We grabbed dinner and enjoyed frites - French fries! (Belgium is the real home of french fries.) We also had a Belgium chocolate truffle.

This is view of Sint Salvatorskathedraal from our night walk:

The next morning, we took a city walk through Brugges. We saw bicycles everywhere we looked. Most people in Brugges do not drive cars - instead, they ride their bikes everywhere. This is the "parking lot" outside the train station in Brugges.

These are some of the things we saw on our walk:

This is Sint Salvatorskathedraal in the morning:

Our walk led us through "Blind Donkey Alley."

We saw Lake Minnewater (also known as the Lake of Love):

There were swans nesting at one end of the lake:

Then, to my delight, Hope and I stumbled across a monastery.

This was a scultpure by the monastery gate:

See - even the swans can walk on water just outside the monastery!

After our walk, we had real Belgium waffels for lunch. Then, we caught the train to Paris. We held our breath - but we had no travel catastrophes. Thank God.

After dropping our stuff off at the hostel, Hope and I set out to explore Paris, the city of lights!

Our first stop was Notre Dame Cathedral.

I was thrilled to catch Epiphany vespers at the Cathedral.

These are the long corridors on either side of the main sancutary.

This is a frescoe of the Last Supper.

And here is the outside of the Cathedral after worship was over.

After vespers, Hope and I enjoyed a real French meal sponsored by my parents. Thanks mom and dad : ). Then, we saw the Eiffel Tower at night.

Here's the belly of the Tower:

When we got back to the hostel, we discovered that power had gone out. In fact, power was out on the whole block. This didn't even break our stride, we were too tired to do anything. After about an hour however, we realized that no power meant no heat. I didn't think Hope was ever going to travel with me again. It's a good thing she loves me!

The next day, we went to the Louvre.

I was excited to learn that, because I have a visa in a European Union country, I could into the Louvre FOR FREE. I believe this means I am about as European as I am ever going to get.

This is a typical hallway in the Louvre. Most of them were very, very long and artfully decorated.

As with the Vatican, we learned to look UP, down and all around. Here are some of the ceilings we saw:

I really liked this painting.

After about thirty minutes, Hope and I set off to find Mona. For me, this was one of several bucket list items that I was able to cross off on this European adventure. Item number 73 says: "Walk across the room in front of Mona Lisa and see if her eyes really follow you."

This is Mona:

I walked (tip-toed, actually) across the room from right to left and back again. Her eyes followed me the whole way! I think she liked me.

We also saw this headless angel. She took my breath away. Her name is "Winged Victory" but she is also known as "Nike of Samothrace."

In the Egyptian Wing we encountered a statue of Ramses II that dated about 1200 years before Christ. Ramses II is the Pharoah of the Exodus, the guy to whom we sing along with Moses, "Pharoah, Pharoah! Oh baby, let my people go!"

We saw the Great Sphynx of Tanis.

In the Mesopotamian Wing, we saw THE CODE OF HAMMURABI.

Here are Aphrodite and Cupid and Psyche.

This is Michelangelo's Rebellious Slave.

This is his Dying Slave.

I could have happily spent the next year of my life in the Louvre, and I left wistfully wishing for more.

After the Louvre, Hope and I visited the Arch du Triumph and the Eiffel Tower so that we could see both in daylight. We stood in line at the Tower so that we could see the view from above. For those of you who know me well, you probably know that I am terrified of heights. I don't even like riding escalators at the mall. I have no pictures of the view from the Eiffel Tower because I was too busy holding onto the railings with both hands. On our ride up the elevator, Hope and I watched as the people on the ground grew smaller and smaller. Hope looked at me and said, "Do you know what this reminds me of?" "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?" I asked, thinking of how the elevator on the Eiffel Tower is on a diagnal track. "No," Hope said, "the Tower of Terror! I keep waiting for us to drop." I think that was the point at which I was done with the Eiffel Tower.

Before long, we grabbed our bags from the hostel and left for the train station. We arrived at the East Train Station in plenty of time to eat lunch, do some window shopping and relax. It was -11 degrees Celcius in Paris on that day and we were looking forward to some time spent in a heated area.

About twenty minutes before our train was due to arrive at the station, I mentioned to Hope that we should check the overhead monitors to see at which platform our train was due to arrive. At first, our train from Paris to Frankfurt was not listed, but I was not worried. About ten minutes later, I noticed that our train was second on the list. The first line on the list said that that particular train was "ritard." Hope and I both knew what that meant - late. The third line on the list said that that train was "a l'huere." We guessed that meant at "at the hour" or "on time." The monitor told us that our train was "supprime." This one was beyond Hope and me. I optimistically guessed, "Hope, do you think supprime means early?" Still, we were not worried. We made our way over to the main part of the station assuming that before long we would have more information regarding our train. Unfortunately, no information came. With about ten minutes before our train's arrival, I suggested that while I get in line at the help desk, Hope wander around and see if there was anyone who could help us. Not even two minutes later, I realized that all the people in line in front of me were passengers on the same train I was supposed to be on. It was from them that I learned the situation regarding our train. I yelled out across the train station to Hope who was half a football field away, "Oh crap, Hope! Supprime means CANCELLED." Needless to say, the people in line with me thought this was hilarious.

Supprime is now my least favorite word in the French language. Our train, which was supposed to be a straight shot to Frankfurt, had been cancelled due to a major snow storm on the border between France and Germany. The help desk told Hope and me that we had three options:

1. Catch a train to Stutgart leaving in five minutes, and take TWO OTHER CONNECTIONS (with only ten minutes in between each one) to get to Frankfurt.
2. Wait to see if the next straight shot train to Frankfurt leaving at 9 was going to run. (They were doubtful.)
3. Spend the night in Paris and catch a train in the morning.

Hope and I opted for the first choice. We took off at a dead run for the platform our new train was at. Unfortunately, our train was connected to another train (like in Germany) and the train we needed was the second one. We barely made it on the train. Within about a minute, the train doors closed and we were on our way. Then, five minutes later, the lights flickered and the train stopped. The conductor announced on the intercom that they were experiencing "technical difficulties" with the train. No kidding, I thought. Twenty minutes later, Hope and I had missed our connections to Frankfurt, and we were still sitting on the tracks just outside the Paris train station. At this point, I didn't think that Hope was ever going to leave the United States again. Thankfully, the train started - in full technical order - within half an hour. Our evening then got a little brighter when we learned from the ticket conductor that they were holding all connections for the displaced passengers on their way to Frankfurt. We were able to make it to home after all.

Hope and I said good-bye to each other the next day. She was heading home to her second semester of grad school, and I was heading home to Tisovec for my second semester of teaching.

From beginning to end, my stomp through Europe lasted 17 days. Regardless of whatever difficulties and snafoos I experienced, I can say with the confidence and after the reflection of time gone by, there is nothing that I would change.

Thank you to everyone reading my blog for bearing with me while I recount my adventure weeks after it has happened. I not only use this blog to share with you all what I have been up to, but I also use it as a kind of online "journal" to keep track of the memories I am making.

Oh yeah - and in the spirit of recording memories - I need to mention that on my 22 hour trip home from Frankfurt to Tisovec, the bus I took from Praha to home broke down in Brno (Czech Republic) at 1 in the morning. I think, now that about six weeks have passed, I can say with good humor, The travel gods smote me on this trip.

Say It Like You Eat It!

2010-02-01T03:11:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite Italian adages is “Say it like you eat it.” I have read a book in which this wise saying plays a key role in the protagonist’s experience, and I was excited to hear this phrase said out loud in real life in Italy. I imagine “Say it like you eat it” is a cousin to “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at time.” This family of axioms entreats you to slow down and accomplish whatever it is you are doing or saying with purpose. For the Italians, what better way to say this than to compare it with good Italian food?

In Italy, a person does not eat food, a person experiences food. Colleen and I wanted to experience as much Italian cuisine as we could, so we established ground rules that governed our dining pleasure.

1. Colleen and Meghan will not eat the same thing twice (unless it’s good Italian pizza)
2.At any restaurant, Colleen will order one type of pasta and Meghan will order another. Then, they will both share.

During our time in Italy, we drank enough red wine to float a battle ship. We consumed enough pasta to satisfy that same ship's entire crew. And I don’t regret a single calorie. We had ravioli, penne pasta, calamari, tortallini, tomato and mozarella insalates, spaghetti, risotto, pizza, lasagna, gnocchio, paninis, calzones, priushiutto ham and one customary cappucino.

I am a fast eater by nature. In fact, my mother is always telling me to taste my food and not just inhale it. But in Italy, even I slowed down.

On what we thought was our last night in Venice, Colleen and I decided to explore the wonderful world of Italian pastries. We had not yet had an Italian dessert – unless you count gelato, which we don’t. (For us, gelato was a breakfast food.) So, we went on a pastry parade. We made five stops at different Italian bakeries and picked pastries at random. It was gluttonous I’ll admit, but pleasure is a minor deity in Italy and I’ve chalked this activity up to “doing like the natives do.”

Venezia

2010-01-27T06:41:00.001-08:00

Within minutes of arrival in Venice, Colleen and I fell head over heels in love with the city. Venice was an Italy that we had not yet seen. After experiencing the outrageousness and brazeness of Rome and the glamour and sophisitication of Florence, we were relieved to find that Venice, with its quiet canals, was a place where real people lived. We passed shopkeepers and grocers on the street. We walked through grocery stores and farmer's markets in the piazzas. We saw grandparents pushing their Italian grandchildren through parks, and we watched kids play on playgrounds.

After dropping our stuff of at the hostel, we spent the day walking through Venice.
Here's the city that captured my heart:

This is the Realto Bridge at night:

Venice's transportation system is quite unique. Because Venice is a series of islands, there are few cars that can be found in Venice. The public transportation system is not comprised of a series of bus lines, but a series of boat lines. The Valporetto is the city's equivalent of a metro or subway system. As a passenger, you wait in a covered dock for the boat line you would like to arrive. Then, you hop on and cruise the waterways until you arrive at your particular stop. This is a typical Valporetto stop:

Even the ambulances in Venice arrive by boat!

During our second day in Venice, Colleen and I decided to make use of the city's public transportation system. We spent the day riding the Valporetto and island hopping. Our first stop was Lido - a quiet, residential island with a beach! Colleen and I were pleased to spent part of our morning on the water, but we were completely unsure as to which body of water we were at.

The first question we had to answer was whether the water was salty or fresh. So, I tasted it. (Colleen was disgusted and began lecturing me on diseases.)

Through this taste test, I discovered one thing and was reminded of another. First, my discovery: the water was definitely salty. Second, if you stand too close to the water as the waves come in, you will get wet! And in the winter, the water is COLD!

One of the other interesting things about Lido was the artwork that was scattered throughout the island. Here is our favorite piece, and here is Colleen adding her own artistic vision:

After Lido, we headed to Murano, the little island with a big reputation. Murano is known across the world for its production of Venetian glass. There were glass jewelery shops and glass sculptures everywhere.

My favorite part of Murano (and perhaps my favorite part of Venice) was watching the glass-blowing demonstration at the glass factory. I was surprised to learn that it takes a minimum of twenty-five years of hands-on apprenticeship before a person can be considered a glass master. I have decided that if I am ever independently wealthy, I will move to and live on Murano and learn how to blow glass.

In these pictures, the glass-blowers were blowing a vase right before our eyes!

Our last island for the day was Cimiterro, which is Italian for "cemetery." Because land is precious in water-locked Venice, the Venetians set aside an aside an island as the final resting place for their dead. This is the view of Cimterro as you would see it on the Valporetto.

This is the church on Cimiterro.

This is the path to the cemetery.

Colleen and I were both impressed with the holiness and "set-apartness" of the island. Cimiterro was beautiful.

Our ride back to the main island was also beautiful. The sun painted blues and pinks across a golden sky before it went to sleep. In these pictures, you can see the Italian Alps in the distance.

As Colleen and I were packing on the morning of our last day in Venice, two of our hostel-mates burst into our room after an early morning of sight-seeing hollering that Venice was flooded. They were planning on hanging out in the hostel until the waters receded. I was thrilled at the idea of seeing a flooded Venice and announced to Colleen that we were going to exploring!

This is Venice at flood levels.

The flood waters didn't stop the Venetians for a second. In fact, I was impressed with the way in which the people pulled on their knee high or thigh high golashes and splashed their way to their jobs.

During our stay in Venice, we had seen this sign everywhere:

In case the print is small, the sign essentially shares a flood contingency plan. Whenever Venice floods, the city will lay out and connect a series of long, wooden platforms for people to walk on as they go from place to place. This me walking on the platforms on the way to the bus station on our last day in Venice.

Colleen and I slowly made our way across the city on these crowded platforms. When we arrived at the bus station, we were shocked and dismayed to learn that there were only going to be two buses out of Venice going to Vienna and both buses were full. We rushed to the train station to see if there were any trains that we could take -- only to discover, that to leave Venice would cost us the equivalent of $500 a piece. (We would learn later that there was a transportation strike and only limited buses and trains were running on that particular day.) It looked like we were going to be stuck in Venice for another day. Thankfully, neither she nor I had to be anywhere immediately, and the extra twenty four hours didn't hurt us.

We explored the far corners of Venice that we hadn't yet had a chance to see. Here are some of our pictures from our "bonus" day.

The next day, we were able to catch a bus to Villach and a train to Vienna. Little did we know that our Italian Christmas Adventure was going to end with a bang... I'll fill you on the details of our New Years soon.

Firenze

2010-01-26T02:55:00.000-08:00

The day after Christmas, we woke up with enough time to watch the sunrise at the train station in Rome.

Now, you know that Colleen and I are missionaries. You also probably know that we have fairly meager salaries. Colleen and I exercised all our creative powers to be able to afford our stomp through Italy. We grocery shopped for breakfast and lunch and only ate at small holes-in-the-wall for good, but inexpensive dinners. We did not visit many museums so that we did not have to pay admission cost. We firmly believe in walking. Everywhere. Eliminating metros and buses was an easy way to save money. We also took the commuter trains (not the Eurostar/Eurail trains) between cities in Italy. These trains are different than the major rail lines because, while they may leave from a major train station, they usually drop you off at a smaller station in the suburbs of your destination city. This meant that Colleen and I would backpack three or four miles into city center and then go to our hostel from there. Before you think that we are crazy, let me say that walking from the outside of the city in allowed us to see the Florence and the Venice that real people live in. I have discovered that what I like best about travelling is simply soaking in new tastes and textures, sounds and smells of the people who live there. This is hard to do when you limit your experience in a foreign city to the main attractions because you end up spending the majority of your time with other camera-carrying tourists who are just as turned around and lost as you are. Our hike into Florence was one of my favorite experiences in Italy. The weather was warmer than we had expected and neither Colleen nor I needed to wear our winter coats.

We were so far out of the city, that the we weren’t even on the map we had purchased. After asking for directions at a local drug store, Colleen and I decided that instead of taking the bus the woman had recommended, we would merely walk the bus route into town. So, we determined which streets to take and which turns to make by simply connecting the dots between the bus stops that led into city center.
We were greeted at our hostel with good news. Because of some mysterious booking issues, we were given a private room. After the crazy people we lived with in Rome, we were relieved to have our own space. I think this was enough for Colleen and I to fall in love with Florence.

Florence, or Firenze as it’s called in Italian, is a city for window shopping. Colleen and I spent our first night in Florence wandering through the streets, stopping periodically to gawk at the displays in the windows. We passed Dolce and Gabana, Gucci, Valentino, Roberto Cavalli, Armani, Versace... this list could continue. This was my first experience with concentrated European fashion. It was a jaw-dropping experience. When we could peel our eyes away from the windows to the people around us, we realized that we were severely underdressed for a rainy walk through the streets of Florence. I don't think I have ever seen so many well-dressed people in my life. Even their umbrellas were color-coordinated with their shoes. I am not a person who cares much at all about the latest and chic-est trend (and this is a good thing because I would need to take out a second mortgage on my future house in order to afford to be so); however, after two hours in this city I found myself lusting after 4 inch, knee high Gucci boots and a lime green Versace purse. This is a city that could get the pope to covet.

As a penance or actually because we were excited to do so, we attended 6pm mass at Santo Spirito Church. The worship was in Italian, but we recognized many of the words and even the melodies of songs that were being sung. Here is a picture of the outside of the church.

As a penance for coveting - or, more honestly, because we wanted to, we attended 6pm mass at Santo Spirito Church. The worship was in Italian, but we recognized many of the words and even the melodies of songs that were being sung. Together, with our Italian brothers and sisters, we worshipped the new born bambino. Here is a picture of the outside of the church.
After viewing the church's facade, I assumed the church was going to have a plain and minimalist interior... but as I was reminded yet again: appearances can be deceiving. I was shocked to find that this church has 38 decorated, ornamented chapels - and almost all of them are trimmed in gold. We were not able to take pictures of the inside of the church, but here is one I found online. This is Santo Spirito's formal nave:

After mass, we went back to the hostel for a long night’s sleep.
The next day was Sunday, and Colleen and I woke up and walked around Florence until we saw a church that was having morning mass. Would you believe the first place we stumbled upon was the Duomo? We caught the 10:30am mass in chanted Italian. Here are pictures of the Duomo:

After church, we grabbed some lunch and headed to La Accademia to find David.

From there, we went on a city walk. Before I left Slovakia, I printed off a “Florence City Walk” from the internet. This walk took us through the Florence that the tourists want to see, but it also took us through the Florence that the Florentines see every day. One of my favorite parts of the walk was strolling through the Mercato Street Market. We shopped for a while, and eventually both Colleen and I bought pashminas to take home with us.

This is San Marco's Church in San Marco Piazza where we began our walk.

Here is Santa Maria Novella Church:

There was an abundance of street art. We watched as an older man created this:

There was a scuplture park off one of the main piazzas.

This is the view of the Arno River from the Ponte Vecchio Bridge at sunset.

On our last day in Florence, Colleen and I woke up early and hiked out of the city, across the Arno River and into the Oltrarno neighborhoods. Our walk took us up into the hills and vineyards above the city. Florence – the Florence beyond the window displays, gelato stands, and street markets – was beautiful.

We left Florence well-fed, well-walked and very excited for Venice.

When in Roma...

2010-01-25T06:49:00.000-08:00

I am not a traveler extraordinaire. I am easily confused by road signs, airports, and train stations. Truth be told, when journeying to new places, I often spend more of my time wandering in circles than actually getting to my destination. (My mother says I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag.) Aside from a screwy internal compass that refuses to point north, I also have "TOURIST" visibly stamped on my forehead with a sticky note saying: "Attention: Pick-pockets, easy target right here" just underneath it. I have the worst travel luck known to man, as the travel gods constantly frown and scorn my attempts to enjoy a new place. I am always the victim of delayed trains, bus breakdowns, transportation strikes, and freak flooding.

Despite all of this, I love to travel. Thankfully, I do have some redeeming travel qualities: I am an absolute dare-devil when it comes to trying new food, I have no problem making a fool out of myself as I stumble through a new language, I will ask anyone for directions, and I can walk for miles. I say all of this only so that you will have context for the stories that are to come.

This is how my first backpacking trip through Europe began:

My Polish-missionary-teacher-friend Colleen came to Tisovec on Tuesday, December 22nd. I heated up some Zabyacka Capusnica for dinner, we shared some Slivovica, and then (after dancing to the latest USA radio hits on youtube), we went to bed. When we woke up early the next morning, the twenty-four inches of snow that had so delighted me throughout the entire week before had begun to melt. (Please note: Until December 22, 2009, it never occurred to me that snow melted – let alone the fact that snow melts into a miserable mess. If Facebook had a "Snow" Page that you could "become a fan of," I would be the first person removing my name from the fan list. I officially dislike snow.) Wearing our packs, Colleen and I waded through the slushy lake that used to be Tisovec's main street in order to catch the 8:05am bus to Bratislava. We arrived at the bus stop at 8am (FIVE MINUTES EARLY), and an hour later our bus still had not arrived. Andrej, however, did arrive. This drunk and toothless-smile wielding man sporting raw facial wounds resembling raw meat and an ever-darkening, swollen right eye adopted Colleen and I as friends. After uncomfortably stumbling through a conversation, Andrej began gesticulating wildly to us explaining in broken Slovak that our bus was probably not coming and that we should wait for the 9:11 bus to Banska Bystrica. (Colleen and I had already figured this out, and the 9:11 bus was now our “Plan B.”) Somehow, in Andrej’s drunk pantomime, his hand landed on my chest… and stayed there. Let’s just say our trip was off to a stellar beginning.

When our bus finally arrived, we hopped on and prayed that we could find a good connection to Bratislava. After one bus ride, two tram rides later and a lot of worrying, we made it to the airport with twenty minutes to spare. Colleen and I had booked tickets with Wizz Air, a no-frills, cheap airline that earns money by charging people for baggage weight and that saves money by not providing passengers with seat assignments. Thankfully, Colleen and I were able to find seats next to each other. We spent the duration of the plane ride practicing out Italian saying things like: “grazie,” “prego,” and “spaghetti.”

The first thing I noticed on the train ride into the city from the airport was how warm Rome was. We had come from temperatures that hovered just above freezing, and after five minutes in Rome we quickly began shedding layers. The second thing we noticed as we looked out the train window was that Rome had palm trees. Go figure. When we saw people speeding down the highway on their little motorcycles and mo-peds, Colleen and I knew we were in Rome.

We woke up early the next day because Colleen’s dad had gifted us with backstage passes to the Vatican for Christmas. We left with plenty of time to make our 10:30 tour. When we got off the metro, we followed the crowds towards the Vatican. Everywhere we looked, men were selling knock-off purses and watches. People representing restaurants and tour companies were thrusting fliers at us. One man watched us walk by and said jerking his thumb in the opposite direction, “Hey ladies. The Vatican museum is that way.” Colleen and I, who were indeed trying to get to the Vatican Museum, ignored him and kept walking. Within a few minutes, we approached the giant columns that guard St. Peter’s Square. We were immediately knocked off our feet by the Vatican’s one-two punch of power and tradition.

We saw St. Peter and his keys. I wished that I had brought my Bible with us so that we could sit on the steps and read from Romans.

Because St. Peter’s Square was not the Vatican Museum – and because we needed to meet our tour guide at the Vatican Museum, we turned around and walked back through the columns and into the crowds looking for signs to direct us. As we walked along, the man from earlier recognized us and said sassily, “See! I told you the Vatican Museums were that way.” Colleen thought this was hilarious. I was less than amused.

Our tour of the Vatican was stunning in the truest sense of the word – I was unable to process everything I was seeing. Even the walls wreaked history. I couldn’t believe how much money and time was spent through the centuries on the creation and maintenance of this place. While visiting the Vatican, I learned that you should look up, down and all around. The ceilings, of course, were covered in gold. The floors were original tiled mosaics. Here is just a small part of what we saw while we walked the Vatican grounds: This is one of the many ceilings:

This is one of the many tiled mosaic floors:

Here's St. Peter in the Pine Cone Garden:

Our tour ended at the Sistine Chapel. I think we held our breath the whole time we were there. As we were herded into the room, I asked Colleen, “Where are the hands?” We found them quickly, and we stood there for quite a while taking in the beauty and the wonder of the love Michelangelo had captured. The Vatican guards barked, “Silence! Silence, please. No photo! Holy place,” and we took our time slowly walking around the room and through the crowds all the while staring upwards and open-mouthed. We could not take pictures of the ceiling, but here are some that I found online:

After the Vatican tour, Colleen and I stopped at an outdoor café (yes, an outdoor café in the middle of December!) to have lunch. Then, we walked the streets of Rome and people watched. I immediately liked Rome. This city is outrageous and demands your full attention. The people here are beautiful. The Italian women are well-dressed, usually wearing heeled boots and dark eye make-up. The Italian men were even more striking than their female counterparts. Our walk inevitably led us to a gelato shop.

Later, we celebrated our Christmas Eve dinner at McDonalds (a little taste of home) while we sat at the outdoor tables and gazed at the Parthenon.

We attended Caravitas Catholic Church 7pm Christmas Eve mass – in English. Colleen cried her way through singing “O Come, o come Emanuel” and “Joy to the World.” After worship, we were invited to the congregation’s coffee hour – and we were surprised to find that champagne, not coffee, was being offered. This is the organ at Caravitas. We were excited to learn that Mozart played on this organ as a young musician.

We came home to the hostel that night exhausted – only to find that our hostel had decided that everyone needed to celebrate Christmas Eve together. The people we were staying with talked us into going back out to St. Peter’s Square for the pope’s Christmas Eve mass. Because the metro was not running so late on a holiday, we walked across Rome to get to the Vatican. As we approached the square, we were greeted with strains of “Adeste Fidelis.” We joined the crowds of people camped outside the cathedral and watched mass take place on the jumbo screens on either side of the square. This is Pope on the big screen.

This is the life-size nativity scene set up in St. Peter's Square.

We were not there long before the skies opened and rain began pouring. As best we can tell, it was while we were running to the columns for shelter from the rain that Pope Benedict got tackled.

Colleen and I walked home with one of our new friends, Patrick who had been studying in Rome for the fall semester. We assumed (and you know what they say about assuming things…) that Patrick knew where he was going as he led us home. (Patrick also said he had a map when we left the hostel.) Two hours and an “oops, I guess I left the map at home” later the three of us resembled drowned rats, and we still had not located our hostel. Colleen and I learned a lesson the hard way that night – never, ever leave home without your own map. Ever. Still, I guess we can check getting lost in Rome in the middle of the night and the pouring rain on Christmas Eve off our things to experience in life.

This is Colleen and Patrick looking at a city map at about 1:30am.

A little worse for the wear, Colleen and I dragged ourselves out of bed early the next morning. It wasn’t until after we had showered and had breakfast that we remembered it was Christmas, we were in Rome, and we should be joyful.

At 8:30, we arrived at St. Peter’s Square for Pope Benedict’s Noon Address. Because we arrived so early, we were able to score sweet seats in the SEVENTH row. Even if we had been cardinals, we could not have been any closer to the pope unless we were the barber hired to trim his nose hair! These are pictures of St. Peter's Square pre-noon address.

One of the highlights of our morning was sitting next to a group of Catholic school girls visiting Rome on a field trip from Rhode Island. These girls, dressed in plaid pleated skirts, knee highs and ribboned braids, could not have been more excited about their upcoming meeting with the pope. In fact, they performed their own home-made and choreographed cheers in anticipation of the pope's arrival. These girls were chanting: "OH! We love the Pope!" "Bene-bene-ditto, si si si!" and "We love, we love Benedict. What? The Sixteenth."

In preparation for the Pope's address, the Vatican guards, army and marching band paraded through the crowd.

A typical Vatican guard dressed in the special occasion uniform:

Either Benedict did not see his shadow – or the rules that apply to groundhogs don’t apply to popes when they finally emerge from their chambers. When Benedict appeared at the window, the crowds (Colleen and I included) went wild. Benedict came out and stayed out! He delivered a short homily in Italian and then to my surprise and delight, he blessed and wished people a Merry Christmas in over sixty different languages. Benedict announced the name of the language before he began his blessing saying, “Italian,” sharing a blessing and then wishing all who spoke Italian “Buon Natale!” Whenever the pope announced the language, everyone in the square who spoke that particular language cheered and waved flags. Colleen and I were stoked to cheer three times – once for English, once for Polish and once for Slovak.

After leaving the Vatican, we walked to the Spanish steps.

This is the view we saw as we walked up the steps:

This is Rome from the top of the Spanish Steps:

Later, we saw the Colosseum and the Roman Forum at night, and with that, we officially said goodbye to Rome.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-08T03:51:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year and Epiphany Greetings,

I am happy to say that I am writing to you from the comfort of my Tisovec apartment. I am FINALLY (and thankfully) home at last. The last seventeen days have been a wild adventure that I can't wait to share with you. Over the next week or so, I will be adding blog entries detailing my stomp through Europe. So, friends, stay tuned for more coming soon.

Peace and love from Slovakia.

Christmas Soup... A Little Bit of Everything

2009-12-19T11:45:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was the last day of school for three weeks. I told my students, "Now, Ziaci, I know that you are sad. I know that you are going to miss doing homework, taking quizzes, writing papers and sitting in class. Don't worry. You'll be back in just three weeks, and we'll have plenty of work for you to do!" My students, well used to my obnoxious sense of humor, grinned, rolled their eyes and told me they wouldn't cry too much.

On Thursday, a second year student and my first year class surprised me with Christmas gifts. Mick, one my brightest (and sassiest) students walked up to me with a list of sentences. Thinking that he had written wall-paper for me (I will not be late to class, I will not be late to class...), I frowned at him and asked, 'Mick, what's this? You haven't been late to class." "Oh, this?" he asked, "This is your Christmas present." I looked down at the paper he handed me. Written about fifty times was the sentence:
"Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Miss Large"
See, I told you he was sassy! I laughed and told him he had lost his mind and that I loved the gift.

Two hours later, I walked into my first year class with their Module 11 tests in hand. When the bell rang, I gave them the universal test taking command that all students know no matter what their language, "Put everything away and take out a pencil." The students just sat there smiling at me. "Ziaci," I announced, "Can you hear me?" "Yes," Babetta told me. "But we have present for you. Present first, then test." I gave the class a weird look not sure if they really had a present or if they wanted to get out of taking their test. "No," I shook my head. "Test first. Then we'll do the present." "Okay," Barby said taking out a beautifully wrapped present and setting it on my desk. I looked at the wrapped paper and smiled at my students, "Never mind. Present first!" The students laughed, and as I unwrapped the gift, I pulled out a bright yellow shirt with the country of Slovakia on the front, and all of my students' nicknames scrawled in their own handwriting on the back. I looked around the room, and the class was beaming. "D'akujem! Thank you! This is wonderful!" I walked around the room and hugged each student. "I love it!" I put the shirt on then and there over my sweater. Then, the students took their test.

I think God smiled favorably on Christmas Boot Camp because on Wednesday afternoon it started snowing! Right now, it's 6:45am on Sunday morning, and there are still little flurries falling from the sky. (It's also a whopping 7 degrees farenheit outside... but hey, my southern blood is starting to thicken.)

This Christmas, my friend Colleen and I will be spending serious time with the pope in Rome. We fly to the Holy See on December 23rd, and we are looking forward to attending midnight mass at St. Peter's Basilica and listening to the pope's Christmas address at noon on Christmas day in St. Peter's Square. From there Colleen and I will head to Florence and Venice so that we might drink good Italian wine, find David, ride a gondola and get lost in the streets of Italy. We have been practicing our Italian, memorizing phrases such as:

"Bonjorna Pappa Benedetto. Piacere."
(Hello Pope Benedict. It's nice to meet you.)

"Naturalmente io sono cattolica. Ave Maria, piena di grazia..."
(Of course I'm Catholic. Hail Mary, full of grace...)

"Passa mi piu gelato!"
(Pass me more gelato!)

"Vacca sacra! Credo di aver mangiato troppo."
(Holy cow! I think I ate too much.)

From Italy, Colleen and I will travel back to Bratislava for New Years.
On January 1st, Colleen will go home to Poland, and I will set out for adventure #2. My good friend Hope, who I have grown up with, is flying from Charlotte to meet me in Frankfurt. We are going to spend a week together walking through Luther's old haunts, eating Belgium waffles in Belgium, and smiling at each other under the Eiffel Tower. Life over the next few weeks will be frenzied and fabulous. I am looking forward to every minute of it.

Finally, the most important part of this Christmas soup: to everyone back home, I wish you holiday blessings. May the Christ-child bring peace and joy to you and yours.

Buon Natale!

It's A Wonderful Life!

2009-12-16T09:03:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas - I love everything about Christmas. I love Advent worship. I enjoy Christmas cookies and the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin in my house. I love that when I turn on the radio, everyone in the car knows the words to the songs. I delight in Christmas trees, McAdenville, ice skating, John 1, Luke 2, caroling, and hot chocolate. I will even admit that I love the commerciality of Christmas. I get bit by the Christmas bug every year - usually, I am infected a little earlier then the rest of the world. Well, maybe not the whole world --- Wal-Mart and I probably get bitten about the same time.

As of last week, however, I had still been waiting for Christmas to sink it's teeth into me. Looking around, I realized that the rest of the Americans were feeling the same way. So, I decided institute "Christmas Bootcamp: Get With the Program" Week. Our workout: Every night for one week, the American teachers would get together for holiday fun and a reading of Luke 2. I was going to help us find the Christmas spirit if it killed us.

Christmas bootcamp officially began on Sunday, so Heidi and I began preparing on Saturday. Because Christmas trees (and wreaths and ornaments and other assorted decorations) are in short supply in Tisovec, we spent the day making our own. I made a trip to a knick knack store and bought a stack of construction paper (20 pages is all the store had). On the way out of the store, I ran into Mark (one of the American teachers). Excitedly, I thrust the paper at him asking, "Mark, do you know what this is?!" He looked at the paper and back up at me and said, "It's paper." "No, I told him... you've got to have some vision." He narrowed his eyes, "A christmas tree?" he answered. OF COURSE!

Here is our Christmas tree (some assembly required).

On Heidi's run, she found good greenery and some pretty berries. We made an Advent wreath using four candles and wine corks.

Heidi also made a nativity scene out of toilet paper rolls and construction paper. Don't tell Mom (because she would be appalled) but, in keeping with the toilet theme, Jesus is made out of toilet paper.

On Sunday morning, Heidi and went to the store and bought everything we would need to make gingerbread cookies. We also got the ingredients for hot chocolate and good Slovak spiced wine. To carefully guard our holiday surprise, we put placed a sign on the door of our apartment:

(Pozor = "Careful!" or "Danger!" and D'akujeme = "We thank you.")

Before everyone arrived we changed our sign to read:
"Welcome to Christmas Town, USA" (except we crossed out USA)and wrote "Slovakia"

When we invited everyone to come for Christmas, we asked each teacher to bring three homemade ornaments to use for decorating our tree. I LOVE that each person spent time putting his or her own "touch" on the ornaments.

Here is our table of ornaments.

Here we are trimming the tree.

We made Christmas cookies!

Then, we decided to take "family pictures" in front of the tree.

We watched Merry Christmas Charlie Brown and read the Christmas story together.

And because no Christmas could be complete without mistletoe, I hung some from our ceiling. He is Eric... waiting... under the mistletoe.

Here is Becky... (although this is probably not what Eric had in mind)

It's safe to say that it's Christmastime in T-town.