When in Rome...

No Ron, that doesn't work here..wait, actually it does...(this anchorman quote goes out to all my french buddies who I miss so much already, this was the last movie we watched together...sad). So as you may have guessed, this is the story of our stay in Rome. It started out kinda rocky. We arrived late and had half and hour to check into our hostel before our spot was given up (somthing about absolutly no checkins after 6pm w/o calling first but we didnt' have the number..you know, the usual). So we prayed, Lord take us to our hostel in time, we don't have any directions (oops, forgot to write those down) or a map, but we know you can get us there. And like the guardian He is, the second we walked off the platform a man approached us and started speaking english. He asked if we had a place to stay (he was a walking info dude). We gave him the address and he traced our route on a map and sent us in the right direction. Needless to say, we got there in time. When we got there we found out that we apparently only booked the one night, not two. This is very bad because online almost everywhere was booked for the time we planned on coming. We were lucky to find this place. But God was watching out for us, and as it turns out our beds happened to be vacent the next night so booked it right away. The hostel itself was a little sketchy but you get to the point where you're expectations aren't real high after traveling for awhile. The shower was a shower head on the wall in the bathroom with a hole in the ground a couple feet from the toilet for the water to drain. But the water pressure was excellent, so I had no complaints. Our room door had only one key that you share with everyone so you have to drop it off and pick it up at the desk everytime. For some reason we could never open the door on our own. We had to ask the dude at the desk everytime. He either thought we were crazy or that we liked him. Oh well.

Now for the exciting stuff. The first night we saw a lot. We walked to the Colesseum, explored the Forum, wandered by the Panetheon and stumbled upone some famous fountains (of which I already forgot the names, but they were cool). Everything was huge. Columns were everywhere, often chillin out and not holding anything up. We soaked it all in. The history there is unbelievable. You can't even comprehend it. You just take in as much as you can. We hit up some more gelato, it was stellar. By the way, hazulnut (the nut used in nutella with chocolate which is the euro version of peanutbutter) and chocolate gelato mixed is a close rival to my old favorite chocolate peanutbutter at Madison. Nothing has come close before. So thats how good it is.

The next morning we made it out to the Vatican before 8 (to beat the crowds) and we stil lwaited another 2 hours in line before we could go in. They had statues galore. We saw cool scenes painted by Rapheal. But the piece de la resistance, as you may have guessed, was seeing the Sistine Chapel. For some reason, I just thought it was a dome or something. I don't know, I was stupid. It's actually a chapel, and a pretty big one at that. The walls and ceiling were covered with Biblical scenes. From the ceiling you could trace the Bible from creation (the famous God man finger touch), Adam and Eve, the flood, all the way through David, Jonah, to John the Baptist and then the scenes of Christ. (i'll finish this post if I ever find my red notebook!)

Venizia, Italia

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...that's amore! yeah we arrived in Venice today, so this Dean Martin favorite slowly took the place of the sound of music songs playing in our heads. Some may recall this as one of my favorite songs last year, for no apparent reason. But it seemed fitting for our next stop. Not just because the song is quasi-italian, but more because it's so cheesey. And as much as I love Venice, its definitly on the cheesey side.

The first day we got there kind of late in the afternoon. But as usual we try to see the whole city the first night. It's habit or something. So that first afternoon/night we walked the entire city, not an easy task. To find the major spots, like the Rialto bridge and San Marco square, is not someting you can do by looking at a map. Instead you try to point yourself in the right direction and just walk. As you wind through various ally ways and over bridges big and small you start to wonder if you'll ever make it out of the maze that is Venice. Eventually you see signs with arrows that you faithfully follow for about an hour (though you seem to walk in circles), and eventually you get there. On the way you can stop to admire the many masks in the famous Carnival shops or check out some venician glass in one of their many shops. At some point you find yourself in the middle of a million tourists, and at that point you know you've found something. I didn't mind them as much as most people do. They add another dimension to traveling. They're often a sight to see in and of themselves. I'm one of them. It's wierd. Some of them are way over excited, some frustrated, some spend some much time taking pictures you wonder if they stop to see the city without looking through the lens of thier cameras.

I really loved the archetecture here. Everything is old and delicate. The whole city seems as fragile as the galss they're famous for making. The buildings just scream history and pride, both of which the city seems to hold onto for dear life while it's slowly being adulterated by tourism (the only thing, ironcially, that still keeps it alive). The canals really are cooler then you'd think. There are no cars. The buses are boats. You have to cross more bridges, big and small, then you'd ever imagine. The gondolas are sweet, but too pricey for the likes of me. Its just crazy that they designed and built a city where you need boats to traverse it. You can see many buildings where the steps to the front entrance lead directly from the water, no sidewalk or anything. Bizarre but cool.

Dana and I happened to be staying in a suburb of Venice so we went to one of thier local pizzarias for food. The waiter was crazy. He kept telling us about all his specialties and this special cheese his dad makes in Napoli. He was italian, he was a talker...when it came time to order we actually didn't get to order anything. He picked for us. A special not on the menu, but with his dad's special cheese. So we were way confused but it was funny. He came out with flavored pizza crust and a plate of tomatoes and cheese. It was actually really good. A rare dish we probably wouldn't have tried otherwise. We had to disappoint him later when we declined to hang out with him after work. Oh well.

Well we saw al lwe wanted to of Venice in half a day, so we decided to head elsewhere the next day. We thought about Florence, but the David statue was closed and I didn't feel like doing the museam thing all day. So Dana, the genius, suggested finding a beach in Venice. Brilliant. We were joined by our new friend Katie from Washington who has been traveling Europe solo. She's super sweet and she was pumped for relaxing for a day. We spent a good afternoon there and got some sun. We got to take a dip in the Adriatic. Life is good. It got even better when we found some gelato on the way home. It's pretty much heaven in a cup.

Later that night we got all cleaned up and went back into Venice to see it at night. It was gorgious. The restaurants all had a very romantic ambiance, not to mention the gondolas drifting down the canals. The three of us wandered until we saw the best gelato and we had some more. We got ourselves to the other side of the city again, and had to maze our way back out. It's much longer when its late and you're tired. But we made it to the train and caught our ride back to the burbs. All in all Venice was about what I expected. Very touristy, but still beautiful and unique. The atmosphere hadn't been killed completely by tourism so I liked it. Now we're headed to Rome where we have 2.5 days to see it all. I have a feeling we're only going to scrape the surface. I'm super pumped. I'm sad that this is our last city till Paris. It's starting to hit me that I might actually have to leave. But for now, I'm taking it all in. Vita vella. Ciao!

Salzburg, Austria

So the morning we left Switzerland was clear and beautiful, so consequently we had an amazing train ride through the Swiss and Austrian alps. It is seriously undescribable. An eight hour ride could never be so pleasant otherwise. My pictures don't capture a fraction of the beauty I saw. Majestic. That's all I can say to describe it.

We got to Salzburg and settled in. It was about 5pm so we didn't want go "sight-seeing" in town. So instead we rented bikes, like old school handle bar and bell bikes. It was awesome. Something about riding a bike just makes you feel like a kid again. I'm not talking about hard core race bikes or mountain biking, but riding just for fun. I recommend it for everyone. So not sure where to go, we just turned towards the biggest mountain (I was told its name a million times but I can't ever remember it because german just sounds like gibberish to me) and rode. On our way towardsit we stumbled upon the Sound of Music house (front entrance) and the lane that Maria walks down with her guitar singing "I have confidence in me!" For those who were unaware, Salzburg was the film location for that movie. We took a tour the next day which is how we knew that what we rode by was what it was. We also found the gazebo with the very famous I am 16 going on 17 song. We also found several amazing playgrounds (much more fun than US playgrounds) and had the most scenic bike ride ever. You just can't beat a ride along fields with the Alps towering in the background. I'm sorry but no where in WI can compare.

The next day started a little rough because we were lacking on sleep (the biggest downfall of hostels, the more people in a room, the higher chance you'll have a loud snorer). But we did the early S of M tour anways and loved it. Our guide was a stich, as Dana says. We met two sweet girls from Texas who sang and goofed off with us. We got to frolick in the park where the kids in the movie ran around singing Do Re Me. We got to tabogin down a Bavarian alp! We saw the beautiful lake district where the church is from the wedding scene.

That afternoon was less eventful because we were pretty tired. We cruised around old downtown. Salzburg is such a pretty town. Now many grocery stores, but no town's perfect. As for cuisine, we both tried strudel, Dana had apple and I had tophen (white cheese?), and I had wienerschitzle cause momma told me to try it. Not too shabby. But now I'm on my way to Italy and I feel like that food will be more to my liking. That night the hostel played S of M so was had to watch it. I'd been so long since I last saw it. But after being in the city and tour it was so cool to see everything and know that I saw it in real life. I know that makes me an official dorky tourist. But I'm okay with that.

Oh and praise God that He got Dana and I to the train station on time. We had the alarm set for 5:15. There was a 6:08 bus we had to catch to make our train. The next one wasn't until 6:45 and wouldnt get us to our 7:04 train on time. Unfortunatly, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I did not hear my alarm. It was either under my pillow or we were just too tired to hear it at all. Miraculously, God woke me up at 5:57 (andI never wake up on my own that early, esp when I'm that tired, and if I do I almost always just roll over and go back to sleep). But when he woke me up he also gave me a sense of urgancy. I checked the alarm clock, freaked out, and jumped up to wake up Dana. Thankfully we packed everything last night so we just got changed, grabbed our stuff and booked it. Nothing left behind, we didn't even check out. We just threw our keys on the counter and ran. We got to the stop as the bus pulled up. A second later and we would have missed the bus and our train. So praise God for looking out for us and waking our butts up.

One last thought about the mountains. They've alternated from being a million different shades of green to rock and snow, from covered with clouds, to perfectly clear. There's somthing about them that I just can't explain. It's like that sometimes. I finally know what they mean when they say "it never ceases to amaze me" because it honestly hasn't. When they're green they give this wonderful impression of life and growth. When they're covered with snow it's like even the scarey jagged edge of the rock cliffs can be softened by something as light and pure as snow, like they're covered by a white veil. Both types express ultimate rest. The mountains aren't in a hurry to go anywhere. They seem content to just be. That's good enough for them. And in doing so they emmanate strength and might. Then sometimes these great mountains are themselves overtaken by clouds, harmless clouds can slowly overtake the giants at rest. And when the clouds do cover them, it's like they're trying to hide this great secret. It also looks like God's there, just chillin on earth, circa Mt Sinai or something. You just feel like you're seeing his presence just resting there, watching over the whole world.

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Isaiah 55:12

Right now as I ride to Italy, the clouds have almost completely covered the mountains. They're look cloaked in mystery. But it's like a veil that God will lift in his own time. Then we'll all know what's been hidden. And when it's unveiled, like when you see the mountains after the clouds lift, you will have to stand in awe. I know for some of you that brings back a ton of references in the Bible, but that's what I saw when I watched out my train window. I firmly believe, espially now, that God uses his creation to reveal and remind us of Biblical truths. Like the mountains, Jesus is a source of life and growth (like the green ones) but he's also a dicatomy of strength (sharp rock face) and gentle purity (snow). For some the mystery of Christ is still hidden behind a veil of clouds, but it doesn't mean they don't wonder what's behind it all. When God lifts the veil, they'll see the truth. Maybe that didn't make sense to you, but if you saw what I did you'd understand. I find it funny that I haven't heard a sermon all semester but God teaches me just the same by having me look out the window of my train. He likes to do things like that.

Interlocken, Switzerland

So Interlocken, random? A little. Dana and I spent 6 hrs last night planning this trip. Today we were going to go to Cannes for the film festival, but for various reasons we find ourselves today in the middle of the swiss alps. Amazing. We got here, exhausted, and couldn't believe our eyes. On the train the landscape was gradually progressing from flat farmlands to mountains and kelly green fields. When we saw the first mountains with snow cap tops we knew. We were in the swiss alps. Flashback to Torino in Feb... I was awed then and all I saw for the most part was a blizzard. These were the Alps as God made them, in all of their splendor. Thier very presence cried out, worshipping thier creator. I've been told you that you can see God's presence in nature, that his handiwork is written all over just yearning for our attention. I don't think I ever really understood that until today. No picture could do it justice.

When we finally reached Interlocken I was kind of disappointed that most of the mountains were covered in clouds and that the rain was pouring pretty steadily. But Dana and I trekked out anyways. We went on a hike up the mountain that reaches up above our hostel. It rained, it was cold, it was definitly slippery, but we kept on hiking. God rewarded us ten fold. We reached one clearing that must have put us exactly between two clouds, the fog below and the raind clouds above. As we watched, we praised God for lifting the veil of clouds off the mountains for us to see. As we praised Him, the clouds on the mouintians across from us started clearing away. We was giving us a special show, no more than a few minutes, that no one else probably saw today. With the weather as it was, we had to be in that exact spot at that exact time to see it! After that the clouds came back and we were back in our hazy fog. To thank God for for his special show, we started singing. We sang any and every worship song we could think of. God protected our steps as we climbed higher and higher (but we barely made any progress in comparison to the hugeness of the mountain itself). Singing and going up hill, not easy. But we sang anyways. The way down was easier. We sang "our God is an awesome God" and the thunder part (there's lighting in his footsteps and thunder in his fists) when we heard thunder in the background. Maybe we should have been concerned that we were up a mountain in the middle of a thunderstorm, but it didn't even register to us at the time. But why worry about that, God was there. So was a runner, apparently, who smiled as he passed us letting us know that he heard our little concert as he ran by (I wonder if he knew english?).





When we got back down we were soaked to the bone. It was hard to believe that so muched happened in just one day. Tomorrow we leave at 6am for Austria. Who knows what God has in store for us there...

London

I’m gonna throw this out there…you can take it, or you can send it right back….Mind ze Gap! Okay so maybe this only funny if you are Elodie or Dana, but whatever. So I left everyone today (saddest morning ever- I had to fight so hard to hold back the tears…because I knew that once they started they wouldn’t stop). The friendships I’ve made are irreplaceable, and I won’t let them fade away even though we won’t all be together for some time. That was the day I dreaded most, more than actually flying home. It still hasn’t hit me fully yet. I know it will when I get home and I’m not looking forward to that. But so as not to dwell on goodbyes, I’ll stop myself.

So after I said farewell, we were off to London. All of this was made possible by my mom’s cousin Mark who wanted to make sure Dana, Elodie and I treated ourselves a little bit while we were here. Little did he know the extent to which his gift would reach…I’m going to hold you in suspense for a bit while I tell you everything we saw…

So we flew on over to England, and that was Elodie’s first time in a plane! She was nervous, understandably, but she was a trooper. The bus ride from the airport to downtown was itself a treat. The landscape was so different from France. The foggy and gray sky contrasted sharply with the bright green pastures and brillent yellow flower fields. The houses were so quaint I felt like I was in the shire or something. I really feel like I could live there. We made it to the “tube” (metro/subway) and successfully located our hostel (thanks in part to being a country where they speak English!). If we were lost, we could just ask and actually understand their directions, craziness. That night we trekked out to the London Eye (the famous Ferris wheel), happened to stumble upon Big Ben in the process, ran into Westminster Abby, took some pics in a red phone booth, and cruised around Piccadilly Circus. That night we even sampled the oh so famous fish and chips (which I loved of course, in all its fried goodness). My favorite spot had to be Big Ben. I took way too many pictures. It just pleasantly surprised me because I guess I didn’t expect to be all that impressed by it. Elodie made fun of me and started singing/rapping “Biggie biggie ben, biggie biggie big Ben.” Maybe you had to be there…and a minor tangent. It’s really funny when Elodie tries to say “mind the gap” (the warning over the intercom in the metro- so British) because it sounds more like mind ze gap…anyways…That night something cool happened but I’m saving the best for last so you’ll have to wait.

The next morning we sought out Abbey Road. It was a cool and not cool at the same time. Maybe I expected big statues of the Beatles to be in the middle of the road or something, at least a sign- but it was just a regular intersection, with lots of cars too. But we walked across and had someone take a pic for us (like the obnoxious tourists that we are). Then we hustled over to Buckingham palace for the end of the changing of the guards. They looked so funny, I’ll admit. We scouted out the Tower of London which was pretty cool. London Bridge, though, not that exciting. We got on a bus to find the Globe theater and found ourselves back at the Eye. We searched out Portebello market in Nottinghill which was pretty cool. Stuff was too expensive but the shops were cool. We got on a big double decker bus just for kicks and did some mindless wandering for the majority of the day.

The next morning we headed back. Let it be known that Elodie was a lot of fun to watch during the whole trip. She was like a little kid at the circus. She took in everything with wide-eyed curiosity. She was so happy to be there. The whole language barrier didn’t stop us all from having a blast. Like when Elodie took a picture of our steward because she thought he was cute. That was hilarious. And when we got back she took us to the riverfront where we felt like were down home in the country just soaking up some sun.

Now for the best part. So God has an interesting sense of timing- as usual. I’ve know all these people for a whole semester and God hasn’t seen fit (until literally the last days I have with them) until now to start up conversations- about himself. Remember my talk with Bhavana and Christina (I love you girls, by the way, and miss you terribly!!). Remember how I didn’t want to talk about it but God thought otherwise. (notice how Isaiah 55 covers it all throughout this story)

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,
declares the LORD.
As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Isaiah 55:8-9

Well it sort of went down that way again…

Elodie was raised Catholic (that is, catholic French style…), but up until now I had no idea what she actually believed. I found out later the first night that she wavers between believing there must be a God to thinking the whole thing is ridiculous. So back to what happened. Dana busted out our devotional book and gave me that are-you-ready look. I looked over at Elodie, who seemed eager to do whatever we were doing. So I sighed and said I guess. In my mind I was asking God: how is this going to work, are you kidding me?? I reluctantly asked Elodie if she wanted to join us. She seemed confused as to what we were doing, but she was excited to do whatever we were.

Now for a quick flashback to when Dana and I were packing for the trip. When we packed the devotional book and Bible, my French Bible sitting on my desk caught my eye. I looked at it long and hard. If I brought it, Elodie could maybe join us…oh but that would be so hard to make work, and anyways she wouldn’t want to…These thoughts reeled through my head and fought the serious urging I had from God to take it with me. I squelched his prompting, with some guilt, as quick as I could and just turned my attention to something else. That was a mistake, but don’t worry because God worked around it, as usual.

Second flashback… Dana and I always try to pray before we eat. But with Elodie there I wasn’t sure what we should do. After all, it’s rude to just quick pray in English and exclude her. But if we tried to just do it in our heads and hide our prayer that doesn’t seem right either. So I asked if she wanted to pray with us. She said yes. So for our meals either Dana or I prayed and then I’d pray again in French (miserable French at that, but she understood and God certainly did). Elodie told me she a friend who does that (a member of the reformed church of France). She asked why we do it, which is an honest question that I’ve never had to explain to anyone before. I told her that we want to thank the person who gave us our food. We should always be thankful and remember how much God has blessed us. We often neglect to do this, but if we remember to thank Him before meals it reminds us of our blessings.

Third observation… in light of God’s recent “showings-up” – in an evangelical sense –I’d like to point out the progression of monthly topics in our devotional book. It started with God’s character, then grace, then prayer. All three seemingly led up to May, the month about witnessing. As though God timed it so as to first prepare us and then send us (or in my case, send them to me!). Okay back to the story…

Dana read (I don’t even remember what on) and I translated the verse first (with some explanation) and then the story. While explaining the story I tried (well not really me, I’ll explain) making the connection for her to her own life and what God has for her. I’m pretty sure it was all new to her. She had all sorts of questions. What kind of book is that? Can she get one? Do I really read the Bible for myself? What do Dana and I believe about it all? Then we read from the chapter the verse was from: Isaiah 55 (a meaty chapter, and not an easy one to translate on the spot). Did I translate the whole thing, you bet. Was it hard? Yes and no. Did I wish I brought my French Bible? Definitely. Did God make it work anways? Yes!

I went through the chapter verse by verse in my feeble attempts at French. I was actually forced to break it down for her because it wasn’t even possible for me to just translate it word for word. I didn’t know enough French for that, and even if I did it wouldn’t make sense. So each verse got a deeper explanation, one that she could understand and relate to. I’ve never studied that chapter in depth, and I know I couldn’t break it down like that right now in English. That’s because it wasn’t me at all. It was God in me who worked. I know this with all my heart because I was explaining scripture to her in French that I don’t understand in English. It was crazy. This is not an exaggeration. Trust me when I say my words were not my own. They couldn’t have been, especially not in French. I still spoke poor French and God used that. This wasn’t a tongues thing, I wasn’t rolling out with the words, in fact I was more often then not at a loss for vocab which forced me to think more deeply about the verse to better explain it. Although the gift of tongues would have been very helpful right then. Even through my feeble attempts, she amazingly understood. That was all God. My weakness, His strength. My hesitation, His will. I’ve never understood that as clearly as I did that night.

The part I remember the most is the part that calls all who are thirsty, hungry, poor. They will all be filled. It’s an invitation to be satisfied.

Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.

Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.

Give ear and come to me;
hear me, that your soul may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
my faithful love promised to David.
Isaiah 55: 1-3

Months before this night Elodie told me that her boyfriend’s brother committed suicide. They didn’t understand how he could be that dissatisfied with life, because he seemed to be doing well. So we talked about how everyone has this yearning for something more, this underlying dissatisfaction with life. They try to fill it with relationships, success, addictions, but none of it lasts. None of it works. But God is inviting us to be filled, to be made whole. I think that hit home with her. We asked her if she wanted to pray with us. She was hesitant, said she didn’t know how. I told her to just pretend that he’s in the room with us, just chilling out. Talk to him like you would us. To my surprise, that’s exactly what she did. No “dear God” to open. No bowed head, no closed eyes. She just started talking, facing us, like it was a normal part of our conversation. She said how thankful she was to have the opportunity to be in London and with us. Dana and I were surprised, though we shouldn’t have been. She did exactly what we told her. She talked to God like he was right there, like he really is.

So after that it occurred to me that maybe the Lord’s prayer would be a good starting point. I mean if anyone knows how to pray it’s Jesus. So I flipped to it and started translating. She recognized it right away. She had it memorized for confirmation or something. I asked her if she knew what it meant. Not really, she said. So I had her repeat it one line at a time and I broke it down for her. Someone did that once for me and it means so much more when you really examine it. This was kind of hard in French, but it worked out. I’d break a line down (when I say “I” it means you know who but with my mouth…) and then keep relating it back to why we say it, how God uses it to teach us about himself more than He needs it. She followed, I think. She grabbed my Bible from me and flipped through it. I think it was weird to her that I wrote in it. I asked if she wanted my French one, since I don’t have much use for it anymore. She did but she wanted my underlining and notes in it too. So instead of giving it to her now I’m taking it home and working in it then mailing it back with some notes and stuff. I’m gonna try to hook her up with a devotional book too but that may be hard to find.

So after 2 devotional nights with Elodie, I was mentally drained (can’t speak any language right now) but I was spiritually pumped. God is moving in her, I know it. He put it on my heart (and I ask for you too) to pray hardcore for her. She’s one of the nicest and sweetest girls I have ever met. She has seriously been a God-send to me. Our friendship was seemingly random, but it’s anything but a coincidence. I know that much.

So God is continuing the pattern he started this month. I’m about to leave someone, and that’s when He decides it’s time to plant some seeds. It’s frustrating for me when He does that, and He knows it. It’s like this is just as much for me to learn to trust that God will finish the work he starts in them as it is for them to learn about him.

So is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Isaiah 55:11 (word = Christ)

I would have much rather this gone down in the beginning so I could keep planting and watering all semester and maybe even see the harvest (a blessing I’ve always longed for, to see a friend come to Christ, that God has, for his own reasons, withheld). But if it happened that way, who would I be relying on? So I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. Don’t get me wrong, I will still do what I can and for sure will pray. But my lesson is to have faith that God will take care of them. Because that’s a job I can’t do. So pray! God is moving in hearts across the world, any language. Nothing is too hard for Him.

Surely you will summon nations you know not,
and nations that do not know you will hasten to you,
because of the LORD your God
Isaiah 55:5

Africa Part II

So...the rest of my adventures in Tunisia. The day after camel riding in the desert we got a nice change up and got to go for buggy rides thorugh the oasis. We saw a dude climb a palm tree, and we saw lots of different flowers (my favorite looked like a pink hibiscus), and of course there were tons of palm trees. It was crazy to ride through the oasis knowing all around it is lifeless desert. The contrast is crazy. We got some more time in the market (but by then I was getting sick of it...haggling is only fun for so long...).

The best part of the day was riding in the 4x4 (in French it sounds like they're saying cat-cat). All 7 of us got in the off roading SUV and we headed back out to the desert. We flew over sand dunes while listening to random pop songs our driver had on a mixed tape. Christina was a bit scared, and I think Bhavana got the biggest kick out of watching her. Car dancing followed, as did bobble heads. It was chaos. The highlight of the trip, if I could name one.

We took the 4x4 towards Algeria- about as close as you can get without actually being in it. We stopped at some old ruins and a place that was kinda like the grand canyon (or so I'm told), among other things.

Later that day we made friends with this little French boy, David, who is 8 1/2. He ate the rest of his meals at our table. I'd like to think it's because we were the cool Americans... No actually I think he felt cool knowing more French than us. So he chatted it up at meals and on the bus with us, and occasionally corrected our French. He was a cool kid. Oh and we taught him how to play paper football, that was sweet.

The next day we started with some old roman ruins. Little known by most people was that Tunisia was once a part of the Roman Empire. So we saw some old temples (I forget for which deities), an amphitheater, and an old bath house. The mosaic files on the floor were remarkably preserved. Now the coolest thing that I caught (among a mile long list of facts speedily thrown at us by our French tour guide) was an old baptism pool from the first Christians. I don’t think anyone else paid it much notice. It was really cool to see, though, for me anyways. It looked like the one at Elmbrook (bathtub sizeish), only decked out in cool tiles. More importantly is its significance for that time period. You may or may not recall that a good chunk of the New Testament documents the first growth of the church in the Roman Empire. That means that even remote places like Tunisia heard the good news of Christ, and they followed Him. Not only did they follow Him, but right next to the 3 temples to Mars and company they set-up a radical statement of their faith to baptize new believers. Sweet stuff. I would give anything to have been there. I mean just imagine it. A place where roman gods reign supreme and these crazy people come through with this whole new message. One that requires a complete turn from anything they’d ever grown up with. Only God could be behind that. The sad part, though, is that this place that once was a testament to Christ is now only in ruins, like the temples to the roman gods. The country is now dominated by Islam, and you’d be hard pressed to find practicing followers of Christ in that land. So don’t think that all because places like America are supposedly “Christian” now, it doesn’t mean it will last. In fact, for years the US has been moving quite far from God because we’d rather be a country of selfish demi-gods. We all want to be our own rulers, our own gods. Living in worlds biggest super power country only adds to our ever growing egos. So just remember that complacency is dangerous. Places that once followed God aren’t exempt from temptation to follow other “gods.”

Going into the mosques was hard, because it brought me face to face with a system that is missing the whole point- Christ. They get some of it right, but the important part isn’t there, and that’s the grace of God and his gift of salvation. Their religion is dominated by rules, like the Jews under the Mosaic Law. Some believe the same to be true of Christianity, but it’s not at all. Christ came to tell us that we can’t ever live perfectly on our own. But if we believe in Him then we are made perfect by his sacrifice. No amount of daily prayer or dress code or eating restrictions can ever add up to his gift…anyways though…Their worship of God is based in fear, trying to earn redemption. We are told that we should fear God, for that is the beginning of wisdom. However, we should also feel deeply loved by God, a personal, close enough to touch God. His grace, which we believe by faith, is our salvation. No rules or works will earn it. We need a Savior. That joy is missing. This isn’t to say that the people I saw seemed unhappy, not at all. But temporary happiness and eternal joy are not the same. My heart could feel the weight of the burden they carry. A burden only lifted with Christ. They too are God’s people, carefully and wonderfully made. But there rests a veil, like the ones that cover the heads of devout women, a veil keeping them from the truth. Pray that God will soon tear that veil and reveal himself in a big way to them.

Well after all that trekking it was time we returned to the island for a few more days of sun and then head home. It was sad to leave, and I’m rushing the end because I don’t like writing goodbyes. This one was to Tunisia. We miss you already.

Africa...

So the following is an account, a poor one at that, of my adventures in Africa for a week. Actually, let me clarify, I was on the continent of Africa yes, but it wasn't you're usual safari/lion king kinda place. I was in North Africa, which for all intensive purposes is generally considered the Middle East. So the culture I got a taste of was one that's been kind of important in current events, so to speak. Let me begin with this: I LOVED it. I've never had a more unique or fun vacation to date. And as of this semester, I've been a lot of places. But let me tell you, Tunisia is not Europe. Eventually all the churches and museams and everything start looking alike in Europe, but in Tunisia I felt like I was on another planet.



We began our adventures on the island of Djerba (so pretty much a relaxing resort). All of the buildings were white-washed with blue doors or beams. That was soo beautiful. Most of the houses also had dome roofs which were pretty cool. So we started out sun bathing and swimming in the Mediterranian. We attracked a bit of attention when asked our nationality. They guessed Beligum for me and Portugeuse for others. Nope, American, we said. They didn't believe us. We were sometimes the first or second americans they'd EVER seen. It was crazy. The only people that go to Tunisia, we were later told, are french speaking people from Europe (it was a french protectorate). So needless to say we made a splash. Lots of ppl hollered out Bush to us, which didn't phase us much because they were doing it in a lighthearted manner. (I do realize that this is probably one of the safest Middle Eastern countries for an american to be in because it has no direct beef with the states or Bush and they LOVE making money off of tourists...even americans). So we relaxed and got some sun. I got to try a hooka which is a cultural pipe thing they have. It funnels flavored smoke through water to filter the impurites out and you get smoky incense left or something. Everyone was pretty suave with their swigs, but I on the other hand was ridiculous. It doesnt feel like you breath any in so when you stop you don't think you got any but they when you go to exhale all this smoke is there. It freaked me out and I just looked silly. Kyle claims he can do the rings, but we never saw it. The guys there were ridiculous by the way. Everywhere we went (that is the girls) we were propositioned, offerend coffee, offereed camels (to the boys in our group) in exchange for our hand in marriage, offered other things...It got annoying but at least we made some awesome deals in the shops because of it (the boys never got prices as low as ours).

Shopping was interesting. There are no set prices. They give you an absurd number and you give them an equally absurd one back. Eventually you make an agreement. They'll go real low if you start walking away (if you ever need to try it). It was fun at first but after awhile you just wanted to know what it cost and be done with it!

After a couple days we began our tour (in french with famlies and stuff...that was interesting). We started in this place where the sheperd ppl live. Its where they filmed part of Star Wars apparently. This culture is a lot different from the rest of the country, mainly Islamic. This people just chill out in there cave houses and weave and sheperd and all that good stuff. Where we went it was more for tourists to see, but there are a lot who still do everything the old ways to guard thier culture. (notice my lack of actual information, this will be common, the tour guide spoke really fast and in french...so i got only the gist of it...sorry). I can see why they filmed Star Wars here, it really didn't look like the earth I'm used to. That's in all seriousness by the way. It's not what you would usually think of when you think of a beautiful place, but it was litterally awesome, because it really did fill you with awe. God is creative. He did not make the whole world the same. It's really cool to be reminded of that just by seing His handywork. I seriously wonder sometimes how He came up with it all. But then I just remember...He's God.

The next place was really cool too, but kinda scarey. It was once a sea, I believe, and is now vast salty earth with some puddles here and there. It doesn't sound impressive, but it is. The impressive part is the size. It is huge. Vast, as Nasco and Kyle said. In fact, here's a picture of them trying to show the vastness. The sky just blended with the earth into one blurry thing. If you were left out in the middle of that, well that would suck a lot. I'd also like to show you the sign for Algerie, because while Tunisia may be neglected in french classes, Algerie is not. France and Algerie had a big war with them from 1952-1962 for their independance, which they got. Unfortunatly they are not on good terms and it is not a good vacation destination for francophones....

The next stop was the SAHARA, desert that is. Yeah the famous one. The crazy thing is, even though its just a bunch of sand (like a beach sans water), it's still really cool. Normally sand, like at a beach, isn't all that impressive but the sea or ocean is so huge and goes on forever. Well this time it was the sand. And there was lots of it. We saw at one point an oasis on our right and the desert on our left. Now an oasis isn't the two palm trees and a pond like you usually think of. An oasis is a ridiculously huge field of palm trees. Like a big farm of them. The reason it's an oasis is because it has a nifty supply of water somewhere underneath it that keeps the trees alive. So that was on one side, endless palm trees. The other side was sand and hills of sand and scorching sun that just goes on and on and on. It's crazy. You just don't see an end. Now to top of this, we did what every stupid western tourist (myself included) wants to do in the desert...we rode a camel! Well actually a dryaid (sp?) or something (one humped camel). They are bigger than you'd think. And they smell. They all look like girls too because of they're curly eyelashes. The people dressed us up in traditional tunic garb with the head covering. Now you wonder why they wear so much if its so hot, right? Well we figured that out soon enough. Once you step outside the sand blows. Everywhere. I couldn't see without my sunglasses on. I couldn't open my mouth without the cloth over it. So it all made sense. Now back to the camel. I got on mine, she was real sweet. But there was a bizarre dude leading my camel. I was the first on, but somehow I got behind all my friends and they were all up ahead farther than I could see. In fact I wasn't by any of our tour group. It was me and the camel guy. Now why do you think he did that? I'll give you one guess. I didn't think I looked so great with the garb on, but what can I say...He wanted to have lunch with me, know where the hotel was, where we were headed...now I didn't think that was good info to give out (esp since I was worried about being back there all aloneish) so I did the dumb blond (add foreigner to that) thing. He spoke in french, I didn't understand. He tried english, still no luck. Of course I really did understand but you get what I was going for. Then I ask for him to take me by my friends in the pink headgear. I think he thought I said boyfriend though. It seemed like after that he felt defeated cause he walked me up to another group of people and gave my camel to someone else. So I wasn't with my friends but at least there was no more tete-a-tete. Unfortunatly, because of his little shinanigins there is no pic of me on the camel...sorry. But don't worry, I still had a lot of fun. I was on a camel! Afterwards when he tried to find me again I pretended like Kyle was my boyfriend and it all worked out. Oh those guys...(thats my view from atop the camel by the way)

This is it for Part I. For more, tune in next week...haha. I'm such a tool. More coming though, I promise...

last quiz night.

This is a short one. just wanted to point out the fact that this part of my semester sucks. I went to quiz night last night and was real close to crying. You all know I don't do that often. I couldn't even have fun I was so upset at the thought of everyone leaving. france has been great but it wouldn't be half as amazing without all the people I've met here. I've never had a goodbye feel so emotional before. I think it's because for all practical purposes I won't see these people in a long long time if at all (of course Bhav and Christina have to live on opposite coasts...sad, not to mention Elodie on another continent). Even if I see them I won't have their constant presence to bring a smile to my face (cheesy but true..). Tomorrow is my last day with them. Gotta make it count...

a friday not soon forgotten

This was a Friday night that I won’t easily forget. But isn’t that always the case when God shows up in a big way? It’s easy to overlook Him in the minor details of life (though we shouldn’t be so complacent in our ingratitude), but sometimes He makes it clear that He is here and He is in charge. This is a weird entry to write about because those involved will probably be reading it (so if that’s you –I love you two!).

Anyways, back to what happened. Christina, Bhavana and I were just chillin in my apartment that night, doing I don’t even know what. Christina was on the phone with her boyfriend, and the night was winding down to an end. It was already 12ish and I knew Bhavana would probably be heading out soon. I didn’t want to forget to give her the book I wanted her to read, so I grabbed it from my room and gave it to her. I already gave Christina (already a Christian) a copy of Blue Like Jazz, one of my favs, cause I thought she’d really connect with it. For Bhavana, I had Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. That may seem like an odd choice, seeing that she’s Hindu, but here’s why. This girl has asked me more questions about Christianity and what I believe than any other non-believing friend I’ve ever had. Her curiosity is genuine and I never feel like I’ve given her the whole picture about what God and Jesus are all about. So…because she’s a smarty (and C.S. definitely writes to the intellectual sort), I thought that book might give her a good idea of the basics (or at least as close as you can get without reading the Bible itself). Now in all honesty I don’t know why I brought that book to France. I’ve already read it. I also didn’t want to give it to her. But I had a feeling I ought to, despite my seemingly better judgment. All of our God conversations before were like that. She had a question; she brought it up. I didn’t want to talk about it, and I definitely wouldn’t have brought it up. This is contrary to what I also imagined I would do in relational evangelism. I always pictured myself prepping and sticking the conversation out there; you know, me being the hero. No, this is not the case. God started it every time, and He used her to do that, not me (like I always assumed had to be the case). So that in mind, here is what happened.

I put the book on the table and she looked at it. After awhile she asked me straight up, “Are you trying to convert me?” What do you say to that?? Well not in those words, I thought, but if by convert you mean I someday want you to see the truth and believe it yourself and have your own personal relationship with your savior…then I guess the answer is yes. So I answered honestly, “Yeah I guess.” (I know that's a wonderful response, one of many more to come…) She was a little surprised, all of her other Christian friends never actual admitted that. So…what then? I would have dropped the subject, but then came the questions. Not the easy ones, but the hard ones. Eventually Christina’s phone call was over and she joined in. By 8am we were still talking (that alone is a miracle). This is where each person is at.

Christina is a Christian, in that she believes in God and Jesus. But she discovered that night (after I answered questions straight from scripture, of which she hadn’t heard before), that she doesn’t believe in the Bible. In her mind, the whole hell/Satan bit doesn’t make sense with a loving God. Even if with free will that means we have the choice to not choose God, she doesn’t understand why God doesn’t (if he’s also all powerful) just save them anyways. I said that a person who chooses that they don’t want God wouldn’t enjoy heaven because heaven is really just the being in the presence of God for eternity and Hell is the absence of it. So if you don’t want God, even if you were in heaven it wouldn't be a heaven. That wasn’t cutting it for her. So she discovered that she believes in her own God, one that fits the mold she wants to see him as, and the Bible is just not for her. You can’t imagine the grief that made me feel. God a la carte is no God at all. We can’t fit Him into boxes. He is the supreme comfort, but also the supreme terror (C.S.). God wanted us to choose to love him so that our love would be real! In terms of spiritual warfare (which I believe in whole heartedly though I know Christians, Christina being one of them, who are doubtful), the demon of feel-good lies was there in full force. I felt him. I prayed against him. My spirit was worn out. I felt attacked (not by her, she was and has been only kind to me even when we disagree (thank you for that by the way), but by the lies that surrounded her (this everyone may not agree with, but if you were me you would have felt it).

Bhavana is at a different place. Like I said before, she is Hindu, something I know close to nothing about. But I discovered that she believes there is one God out there and she thinks He even loves her (Bhav you don’t know how amazing it is that despite it all you have come to believe this when so many Christians aren’t even at that point, and that's a gift from God even if you don’t see that yet); she even talks to Him sometimes. That brought me more joy than she knows, and even kept my spirit from feeling totally hopeless at the night’s conversation. The problem was this. She couldn’t accept Jesus and salvation because that would mean, if I’m right about this whole redemption thing, that all of her loved ones aren’t saved and would then be going to Hell. She told me that even if I’m right after all, she would honestly rather be in Hell with her family than in heaven alone. My heart cried out for her! She didn’t say that just to avoid Christ, but she said it with a genuine grief. Her face and expression and even tears spoke for her. I could see in her heart (well God let me know anyways) that deep down she desperately wants to believe –because that entails so much joy. But at the same time, she just can’t because that would be like condemning all those she loves to hell. To want to believe so bad but not be able to because of fear for loved ones is a situation I will never be able to fully understand. I wanted so bad to be able to feel for her on her level, but who am I kidding? I don’t know the least bit what kind of sadness she must feel. Her demon was fear. Fear that by accepting Christ she’s abandoning her family. This demon did not relent. I felt him in my soul.

Another issue came up for Bhavana, and when I hear it I cringe. Her experience with Christians (esp missionaries) has been anything but Christ-like. In the part of India where her family comes from, the missionaries convert the Hindus for money. In other words, for every convert they get, they get paid. So they go to the poor and hungry and offer some food or money if they convert. What choice do they have? They convert just to get fed, and the missionaries get paid. Now trust me I know that this is not typical. But doesn’t it make you cry out? We are supposed to be the light of the world, the salt of the earth, the feeders of the hungry, the caretakers of the oppressed. God did say that some would call out to him in the end and say Lord, Lord! And He will say, “I never knew you!” Those who use Christ as a pretext for their own agenda, watch out. Christ is not advertising tool, political advocate, money maker. He is our Lord. If we misrepresent Him to others, if our hearts are not truly in it for Him, He will judge us for that when the time comes. People like Bhavana who grow up with this don’t see the love of Christ. All the Christians in her life have told her she’s going to Hell, but how many of them have told her that she was preciously and wonderful made? Did they tell her that Christ loves her unconditionally in a way no human can rival? Did they not just tell her, did they love her?

If we are the Body, why aren’t our arms reaching? Why aren’t our hands healing? Why aren’t our words teaching? Why aren’t our feet going? Why isn’t His love showing?? Jesus paid much too high a price for us to pick and choose who should come. We are the body of Christ. (casting crowns song).

I can’t describe what it feels like to know that in your very kitchen a battle is being waged. (I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Momma brought me Piercing the Darkness and I just finished reading it. It describes spiritual warfare in a real way going on in this world, and lets just say it makes you think, and pray). Not that its not other times, but to know exactly what’s happening is hard, especially when you know you’re losing. My spirit was wounded and weak. My prayers seemed useless (I know that’s not true, but its easy to fall prey to doubt and hopelessness). God was there, of that I’m sure. He was there in a huge way. Walls crumbled. People saw into their hearts. They saw what they really believed. They discovered what their heart desired. I discovered my own ineptitude. I was unprepared and I knew it. My prayer coverage for that moment was horrible. How often had I forgot to pray for them until now, and even after this I forget! I haven’t been in the Word, I let my sword get dull. But thankfully God uses us in times of weakness! He showed up even though I was caught unprepared. He didn’t need me to be. How amazing is that? My prayers weren’t there, but I know the spirit was interceding for them anyways. It’s a good thing God doesn’t need us. But it's a blessing that He still chooses to use us. Crazy. I reached the point where I had nothing to offer so I just got my Bible and read, mostly from the sermon on the mont. There’s nothing like the words of Christ to do what you yourself can’t. I feel the urgency for these girls, God is moving now and He’s not being secretive about it. God wants their hearts, their whole heart. All they need to do is let go. But like we all know, that is the simplest and still the hardest thing of all. For those who read this, you know that all I ask for right now is your prayers.
PS. The thing that started it all, the book, is still at my apartment. Bhav decided not to take it. So when I assumed God wanted to use the book (as in its contents), I was wrong. He only wanted the title. The book wasn’t the important part, it was the conversation that it sparked. Isn’t that always how God does things? Never like you predict.

loving God

One of the things Dana and I talked about in Spain was about how we see God. It’s so easy to think of Him as just a father (at best) or distant like a judge (at worst). But God wants an even deeper relationship than that. Not that the love of a father isn’t amazing or what we need. But he wants to add another kind of love, one that often freaks us out. This isn’t a new idea, but it’s worth repeating. Dana asked right out, “Do you think of Christ as your lover?” She didn’t say friend, father, counselor (all good things). She said lover. I didn’t feel like lying that day (I’ve felt like lying or putting up a front less and less these days), so I said no. She asked why. I said I don’t want that. Why wouldn’t I you may ask. Well to be honest, taking my relationship with Christ to that level entails things I don’t feel like dealing with, mainly because I’m selfish and lazy, but also a little bit afraid. To those who are given more, more will be expected. So I’d rather be more like a child, still justified in my own mind for holding onto this world and my own life more than I should, than like a lover who must completely give her heart away. Christ wants complete and utter honesty from us, like I’ve been told (this is not my forte here) husbands and wives expect from each other. He wants our whole heart. No unfaithfulness. No adultery. He wants us as his bride. But not a damaged and unclean bride, a pure and spotless bride. Now this is often used in Churches and among Christians, but how often to we really think about it. Christ loves us like a lover. Like your soul mate, with a perfect love. Think of whoever this person is in your life (or in the future will be), how much do they love you? With what kind of love? For some its an enormous crazy kind of love. Now imagine God feeling the same way about you, only more! Not in a far off kind of way, but in an intimate way. You scared yet? Cause I am. This is what God wants me to accept from Him, and He wants it in return. I think part of the reason I haven’t grown much in awhile (spiritually that is) is fear. Yeah it’s really cool to have that in your life…but…that just makes life so much harder (not actually, it is actually easier, but by harder I mean I’m not the one in control, which for me seems like it would be harder). I feel like Dana has or is close to reaching this point (of course I can’t really know). You can tell when people are in love. Likewise you can sense when they are in love with their savior.

Dana and I talked about it and she pointed out what may be my biggest stumbling block. As it turns out, my obstacle is also one of my gifts from God himself! Funny how that works out, the whole strength / weakness deal again. God gave me reason. He made me logical, rational. I always was a math girl, a problem solver, a mental organizer, a philosopher (haha). I like to think about things, and then categorize them neatly in my head. I like to work out problems to their rational solution. It’s what I do. It’s a gift from God. Someday He’ll teach me how to use it for Him and not just myself. But anyhow, that presents a problem for me. I want the world to be rational. I want God to be rational. I want my relationship with Him and His love to be logical. But God is above the reason He gave me. He is irrational. His love for us is incomprehensible, illogical. You see where I’m headed? If I accept it, I’m getting myself into something I can’t understand. That doesn’t sit well. Even when I read the Bible I have to figure out what every verse means. Those in my Bible study know this to be true. Have I ever just been honest and let a verse remain a mystery to me, something to be awed and amazed by? No. That’s not how I like things. That’s why God didn’t make me a poet. Things need an explanation, not mystery. So God or Christ being my lover, too irrational. I can’t earn that kind of love, and I feel like I ought to. That might be a problem down the road I suppose, feeling like you have to earn love from another person cause it will just leave you feeling like you don’t deserve them or their love when you should just accept it and return it. A father’s love, well that’s easier. They have to love you, it’s like their job. They love you even when you suck at life. It’s like that country song. But the other kind, I don’t know. I can’t figure it out. But He doesn’t want me to. “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 40something:10) doesn't not say sit and figure me out. It orders our awe of Him…hmm

Anyways, the point is, well I guess there isn’t really a point after all. I suppose these are just thoughts, ideas. Take from it what you will. You must all think I’m more bizarre than ever by now…haha. That’s good. It’ll teach you from thinking I have it all together. I may always want to have the answer, but I don’t… Love you all!

more from spain...

Spain….

Dana and I ended our Spanish adventures chilling in Valladolid. We walked around in God’s glorious sunshine and did some devotional time in the park. God brought along some funny old men to make us smile. They talked with Dana for a bit about the most random things. One talked to me even though I didn’t understand. He told Dana I was quiet, she told him I didn’t speak Spanish. That was a funny moment. They ended by telling us how nice we were and how beautiful. I think we both needed their kind words. It’s like at just the right time God speaks to you through the most random people, and when He does you just know He’s the one who said it. That felt good. Then it was time for me to leave, sadly.

I started the train ride without any problems. I thoroughly enjoyed the leg from Vall. to Madrid. It was everything after Madrid that sucked. On the train there were the most adorable Spanish girls in front of me, three of them none older than 7. They kept looking at me and giggling and trying to get my attention. When they saw I was reading they showed me their book. The title had Feliz Navidad in it. I knew what that meant. They may have wanted me to read it but of course, I couldn’t. I told one of them they had a pretty bracelet (I don’t even remember the word now that Dana had taught me) and then my Spanish was spent. Luckily, God made things called cookies that I’ve always claimed transcend language barriers. Remember my bus trip to Torino next to the Romanian dude? The only thing he understood was what I could communicate by giving him a cookie, and I think that’s love for you. Who needs words when you have a smile and a cookie. That’s what I think anyways. So I secretly passed 3 cookies up to them and they loved it. Their weird looking friend (I am not at all Spanish looking) had treats! haha….A little while later they slipped me some Spanish starbursts. We bonded.

Unfortunately the rest of the ride wasn’t real great. The car I was in kept the lights on, but I fell asleep several times anyways. I woke up, however, at 4am and didn’t sleep much after that. My stomach was churning. Some Spanish food the night before was not feeling so great. And lucky me still had till 2pm before I’d be home (funny that my trip to Spain took almost twice the time it took me to get here from the states…). It sucked hard core. I hate stomach aches; second to throwing up I think they’re the worst way to be sick. So I tried to read, to listen to music, to not think about it. I guess it was bound to happen. I was bound to get sick eventually (after all I’d been healthy since Feb) and with the amount I travel the odds were good it’d be during that time. So yeah, that was not fun. But we’ll just drop the story there.

The days that followed I continued to feel sick, but being at home and at the beach made it better. I got to chill with Christina so I wasn’t alone like I thought I’d be (cause everyone else is still on break). The only thing left was, well, waiting it out till it was time to go to Africa!

the rain in spain stays mainly in... Madrid

Clever title I know, you don´t have to tell me...haha. So this was the weekend of Spain to see DANA! I didn´t know I was going for sure until thursday when I got the ticket (i tried to get it earlier but the lady lied and said they don´t sell spain tickets in france....meanie). So friday after class I hopped on a train for my 15 h trip down to miss dana. I let some New Zealand dude have my seat so he could be by his family, and by taking his seat I made an interesting acquaintance. Her name is Marie, I think, and she´s from Brazil. Right now she´s studying medicine in Lyon, and her french is so good I thought she was a native. But her tongue is portugese which is more helpful in spain than french is. She speaks english but preferred we spoke in french so it was again harder to carry on conversation but good for me to practice. I told her I was from the states, north of Chicago (no one knows about Wisconisn, or milwaukee, let alone B´field). She said where, and I said outside Milwaukee. She said she lived around there too for 9 months to learn english. She said she lived in a suburb called Brookfield....hmmm. Coincidence? She attended central, but she was there before my time so I wouldn´t have known any of her friends there. It was so bizarre. I was on a train in france on my way to spain and I meet a girl from Brazil who lived in Brookfield of all places. Needless to say we stuck together during the ride even when we changed trains. The conductors in the second train loved here and so they sat with us in the dining car and talked to her (I know no spanish so i tried to understand but usually didnt...they thought i was funny somehow because of that). Sleeping sucked and I didn´t do much of it, but by now I´m used to traveling like that. Finally at 8 am I arrived in Madrid.

Where I found DANA! Seeing her brought me so much joy I can´t even tell you. We figured out the bus system and found our way to our hostel and talked and talked and talked. Unfortuantly she was sick (but I love her to death for still coming and sight seeing even though she felt yucky). On saturday it rained and rained and rained. But we ran around town none the less. We saw cool gardens, Prada museam (with a cool painting that we saw Picasso´s interpretations of in Barcelona, it was awesome to see the orginal - esp since you can´t tell what the orginal was much from picasso´s renditions), flee market, a protest, a flamenco dance (arguably my favorite thing I´ve seen in spain, they were amazing and sooo talented), some street dance fighters, etc... As for food, I found that I love tortilla espanola which I´ve had quite a bit. Luckily Dana can make it for me when we get home! I also tried Paella. I loved the rice part but there were whole bug looking seafood things that had eyes that just stared at me...not cool. We are now in Valladolid, her home town, which is really cute. I got to see peacocks in her park which are beautiful (I think God smiled a little bigger knowing how beautiful He made them when He gave them their extra flare). We walked around and soaked up the sun. An old man complimented our pretty sunglasses...interesting. I got to tried churros chocolate which are yummy fried things that you dip in a cup of melted chocholate.

Now I have to head back to France, another 15h, but Im excited for my next trip....Tunisia in less than 5 days! I´m sad to leave Dana, but I know I´ll see her in like a week and half to start our last travels. Seeing her makes me so happy and I hate parting even for this short amount of time. God has truely blessed me, in not only being here but being able to share it was such an amazing friend. I´m getting super sad to leave all my new friends here too, they´ve been so good to me. I´ve learned worlds from the people I´ve met, which just adds to this experience. I´m going to miss France, and Europe, and always seeing new old things, but mainly I´ll miss the people I´ve gotten to share it with.

Update on strike

I don´t remember if I officially updated y´all on the strike situation. As of now, its done. Chirac was a wuss and just pulled the law to appease the students, even if in the long run they needed the law desperately. Now people will continue to not have jobs, but they can sleep rest assured that those jobs that they don´t have they can´t be fired from...So with the CPE dead it was time for the students to make a decision. For the first time in two months the general assembly, located in the now gross amp A, voted to start school. At the same time, the prez of the university finally shows up and takes some action. He had the university cleaned, students evacuated, and made a plan to resume business. There was a mini insurgence that fought him about it, shouting things like you´re gonna be fired, and you´re a facist, but thats not unusal here these days. So last week we had class, and after my two week break we have exams. Since we only had like 4 weeks of class, our exams will only cover that much. And now, MN decided that since we will all probably fail our exams, that we can´t get lower than our paper grade. So when we turn in our papers, if we did okay, we don´t have to study for the exam cause it can´t lower our grade (answerd prayer!).

So here´s a little tidbit about my alma matter here. They are crazy. I thought it was just a dirty hippy thing, but its worse. We were the first to go on strike in france, and the last to end it, and while we strike we drink and juggle and smoke pot and become winos in the middle of the comedie, but that´s not all. Apparently we make homeless people do the dirty work of our strike. Here´s what I found out. When class started back you had to present an ID card to get into campus (which of course I didn´t have with me so I pulled a whole stupid american act that works everytime). Now I didn´t know why this was, but Ali found out from her professor. During the strike the students had the campus occupied for 2 months, day and night. They had to have someone there 24-7. But did they want to all sleep there themselves? No, so instead they get their homeless gipsie friends off the street (with whom they bare a striking resemblance) to come in and sleep at the school. Since they would be on the street anways, it was a win win situation, cause at least now they´d be inside. Now you may sense that I´m being unfair in my ripping on of my fellow students, but when I found this out I was really upset. If you feel so strongly about your protest, then you have no right to be all talk during the day and take advantage of homeless people by night so you can go off and do what you please. That´s not cool. So right now me and Paul Valery are not on good terms...

Sorry!

So it´s been awhile, like I warned, so my apologies. I´m alive and well, with many many stories to tell, although I´m already starting to forget a lot of what I wanted to tell you all. So I´ll start with my trip to Paris! A couple weeks ago (that far away already? wierd), I went to Paris to meet up with my mom and grandma and mom´s friend Denise. We litterally did Paris is 2 days, and it was awesome. My mom and Denise were jet-lagged, which is bound to happen after an oversees flight, but I didn´t let them get much sleep. We walked around the Louvre and the tuleries right outside (one of the prettiest areas of Paris- in my opinion). Then we checked out the Champs-elysee (sp?) area (but every city has an Arc de Triomph so once you´ve seen one you´ve seen em all). Our museam for the day was Orsay, which has some Degas, Van Gogh, Monet and Manet and more that im forgetting. Degas, according to my mom, has a wierd foot fetish because all of his paintings and sculptures have women in some way or another touching there feet. It was a weird observation, but once she said it we all kept noticing! Later that night we ate by the Notre Dame (not as impressive as the Sagrada familia in barcelona, but still cool) in the Latin quarter (cheap food, lots of ppl, its bumpin). Then to top off our day we hauled over to the Eiffel tour so we got to see it during daylight and we stayed till it got dark and saw it all lit up and even at one point in the night sparkling. That was my favorite part, i think. I always pictured the Eiffle tour being this ugly metal structure that just didn´t fit with the city (can you tell I´ve been hanging around the french too long, they´re opinons are rubbing off on me), but it was the opposite. Even up close it was gorgeous, for one, and the height was breathtaking. So all in all, a fun filled day.

Saturday we saw the biggies in the Louvre (which was a fun run around cause we didn´t feel like poking around the overcrowed museam all day). Mona was okay, and so was Venus, but I liked the crown jewels and Egyptian stuff we stumbled upon the best. We found this big pair of feet in the egyptian section that momma thought Degas would love! We also saw more of the Latin quarter and Notre Dame, and I can´t even remember what else. Sunday we went to the Rodin museam, another of my fav spots, and it had his famous thinker statue. The dude really makes you wondering what´s on his mind. The place there was cool cause all the statues were outside so it was like a walk in the park slash museam.

Overall I do know that momma is obiviously at home with the french because she can cafe sit with the best of them. I think we litterally spent half our time sitting out at cafes just eatin or drinking, rain or shine, watching the people go by, frenchies and tourists alike. This tradition continued when we went to Nice and then to my hometown Montpellier.

Nice was pretty, and we got to check out the mediterranian and the famous rock beaches. For the most part though, there wasn´t much to do and there were just too many people (its not even tourist season yet). We enjoyed our day trip to Monaco much better. We skipped on seeing the famous Monte Carlo and instead went up to the Prince´s palace. The whole city-state was absolutely beautiful. I could never live there tough because you can just feel the money in the air. Everyone there is super wealthy and the atmosphere lets you know that. It´s beautiful, but unless I win one heck of a lottery then one day trip is about all I can do there.

Finally on Wed we were back in my town. I think everyone liked my city the best of all. Its beautifull, which I often forget since I see it everyday, and its not too big and not touristy. There are outside cafes galore, and of course shopping. So while I unfortunately headed off to class, the other gals spent the day at cafes and shopping till theirs hearts content. Later that night we took my roomies and Elodie out to dinner, which was a ton of fun. There was a little bit of a language barrier between Elodie and my fam but that just meant I got to try my hand at a little translating. After dinner Elodie went with me momma and denise to a cafe to chill for a bit, and thats when I completely lost my ability to speak. I would talk to Elodie in english and my mom in french and not even realise till they couldn´t hide it any longer in their faces. Momma thought it was hilarious. She also decided that I tell stories funnier in french than in english, even if she doesnt understand what I´m saying. I think this is because with Elodie its easier for her to understand me if I act out motions and make appropriate voices for different parts of the story. So what I use for helping her understand my still not so great french, makes me funnier, I guess. I think by that it means I just look funnier. But overall it was a very enjoyable week, and I was sad to see my family leave. It was cool being able to show them around and esp to have them meet Elodie (who by the way has a cool new badger sweatshrit from mi madre which she loves! along with some pb and mac and cheese and ranch to keep her on track to becoming american at heart....). When worlds collide like that you never know how itll work out, but as I´m sure God had in mind, we had a wonderful time.

He’s got the whole world in His hands…

This morning I went to a special “Raumeux” (sp?), Palm Sunday, service at the cool pretty protestant church by the train station. It was all the local protestant churches in the area gathered together. It was really cool because it included churches of all different ethnicities. There was an African, Korean, M-something (North Africa) churches and even some people from Tahiti. The different churches had choirs sing and the pastors from all the churches switched off (some had French that was really hard to understand with their accents, but I got the gist of it). We sang lots of hymns with Hosanna in it. I was shocked to even hear one of the choirs sing what sounded like the French version of the Battle Hymn of the Republic (I recognized glory, glory, hallelu-jah!).

For the first time since I’ve been here the church has been packed. That brought me joy. It was cooler though, not because it was full, but because it was full of all sorts of people. I even caught them saying the verse about every knee shall bow, every tongue confess... It reminds you that middle class white Americans aren’t the only Christians out there (which I know you know but honestly how often do you really remember that??). In fact, we could use the spirit I saw in the Korean choir. They seemed so joyful as they sang about the love of their savior. I wish I understood more of the sermon, but I did follow fairly well. I just want to say that it felt really cool to be a part of that. I would love to go all over the world and worship with all types of people. To be so different yet still bonded into one body with one purpose just testifies to the majesty of our Lord. And once again my heart is bursting at the seams to go more countries, see more cultures. France isn’t enough, I want to see more…

Beach Bonfire!!

This weekend has been amazing! On Thursday night we went to O’Carolans for quiz night, as usual, and this time Elodie joined us. We lost, as usual, but oh well. Afterwards I had Elodie taste some more American delicacies. Kate had given us a bottle of ranch and peanut butter, so I wanted Elodie to try it out. We bought some fries for her to try in the ranch, which she loved! Then we had her try the peanut butter (which she’s already tasted once or twice) with an apple, and she loved that too. I always knew she was American at heart… The ranch made me the proudest though, not gonna lie.

Then Friday night rolls around and Bhav, Christina and I hop on a train to Frontignan ( a little beach town next to Sete). That’s where Jean, Elodie’s boyfriend, and his family have a beach condo. It’s a cute little apartment that sits directly on the beach. Elodie made us a French dish that they eat up in the mountains. I don’t remember what it’s called, but it was really good, nice and hardy soul food, if you will. It was made with a bunch of potatoes, onions (I’m going to insert here that it took me like 10 tries to spell onion right, with the spell check on…don’t ask), lardons (bacon chunks), and some weird French cheese that’s all melted together into goodness. After which she melted up some chocolate for some fondue action, always a favorite. And to top off our eating for the night, the girls and I brought smore stuff as a surprise for them to try.

Jean and his brother built us a fire on the beach, 10 feet from the water!, and we started making the American camping favorite. Needless to say they weren’t exactly the same, because France doesn’t sell graham crackers and their marshmallows are kinda off. But we did the best we could with sweet cracker substitutes, and the chocolate was of course excellent. Jean and his brother loved the smores. I think they’re going to spread it to all of France. Elodie wasn’t as keen on them, but I think it was because the marshmallows here taste kinda funny. They’re definitely made out of something different because you can hold them directly in the flames and they don’t catch on fire. So yeah…that was sooo much fun. I of course had to speak French way more than usual, which was rough, but it was a blast. We finished off the night by watching Hitch, dubbed in French, which isn’t quite the same without Will Smith’s real voice.

We woke up the next morning, or afternoon I guess I should say, and ate breakfast outside overlooking the sea. It was a beautiful morning. Jean spent the afternoon fishing (he only caught one), and the rest of us laid out and relaxed and looked for shells. Elodie was kind enough to correct my Art history paper (which definitely needed work on grammar) so I’m not too worried about turning it in now. It was such a relaxing day. I don’t think I’ve been that relaxed all semester (and this semester hasn’t really been stressful). I’m also glad I got to see Elodie again. It’s been so long now that we don’t have classes (speaking of classes, rumor has it school will start back on Monday which is bad news, because now we have to take exams without first learning what’s on them…yikes). I miss her already, and I haven’t even left yet…

Here comes the sun!

Friday night Jacques Chirac gave a State of the Union type speech to the nation which the roomies and I watched anxiously. He announced officially that he’s signing the CPE law, despite the protests. He was very well spoken; even I understood everything he said. Pretty much the law is reformed (one year period and not two that you can be fired without cause), but they still need it to reduce unemployment. I agree with him and think he made the right decision. If he didn’t, then Villipan, the Prime Minister, threatened to resign. They interviewed the head of the student group afterwards, and they are not happy. They said Chirac didn’t listen to them at all and mobilization is still in effect until the law is repealed permanently…so no school still… (Pray it lasts till exams!)

The weather has finally started to get nice! On Saturday I went to the beach, and let’s just say I got burned, but only on my face…It was cold that day so I was all bundled up, and because it was so cloudy I didn’t think I’d get any sun. But I did, even my landlady noticed and warned me that it’s those cloudy days that will burn you! She’s so cute. That night Christina slept over and we watched How to Lose a Guy in 10 days, which was funnier than I remembered. We got up early and went to church where a new dude was speaking. He was pretty good, better than the other lady. I’m pumped because next week there’s a big get together for all the churches and choirs in the big church by the train station. Christina, Bhav and I are definitely going to check that out. Afterwards, Christina and I once again trekked out to the beach, this time with better weather. We got to lay out and tan in our suits (no more sweatshirts!) and we even went in the water for a swim. Well we sort of swam. I only went in because Christina told me I wasn’t a true Wisconsinite if I was “too cold” to swim…so what could I do? The water was so cold, my legs went completely numb. It was brisk. But we got to relax, read, listen to music, and soak up the sun. It was awesome.

Monday I did more scholarly work in one day than I’ve done all semester. For some reason it seemed plausible to start and finish my 10 page French paper about Flemmish art in one night (ambitious I know). I am rushed because I have to finish it before Momma and Nana come (next week, I’m sooo pumped). So I put on some country music and started to write (I did all the research the night before). It wasn’t bad. I was cruisin. French doesn’t usually flow that fast, esp about art, but I just wrote away and 8 pages later I had everything but the intro and conclusion done by 11pm. That’s 7 hours straight. One of my study breaks consisted of fries, ranch (from Kate!) and a cherry coke. That plus actually doing something academic just felt like home. It also felt good to finally do something intellectual, because with this strike I feel like I’m loosing intelligence by having a semester break (MN classes excluded because they're super easy).

Today Bhavana and I tried to go to Aix-en-Provence…however it again is National Strike Day…so we couldn’t get a train there. Instead, we went to Marseilles, a port city 2 hours east of Montpellier. We got there and had to walk through some trashy parts before we found the Old Port area (by trashy I mean a bunch of people having a “yard sale” type thing all along the sidewalk of old junk like skates, used shoes, computer moniters…). The water there is soo blue, and we of course watched yet another parade of strikers (same in every city). We hiked up to their Notre Dame Basilica which had an amazing view of the whole city. From up top, I could see what to me looked like Chateau d’If. For those that have seen the movie or read the book, the Count of Monte Cristo, Edmund is from Marseilles and was sent to Chateau d’If prison. I saw what was a little island with a small fortress that looked just like the one in the movie. Then I saw a map on the hill of all the sites you can see from ontop, and I was right, that’s what it was! I guess I never thought that’d it was a real prison that you could go see and that the movie would have used it. That was pretty cool. I have pics, but it only looks like a little spot, and definitely doesn’t do it justice.

When I got back I finished my paper, so now I only have to do history before everyone comes next week. Time is going by so fast, and I’m afraid I’ll have to go home soon (I want to see you all but I’m going to miss it here). Next week Momma and Nana come and we go to Paris/Nice. Then that weekend I might go to Spain to see Dana, then the week after I’ll be in Africa for spring break, then exams, then traveling with Dana, then home! It’s all coming up so fast, and I have so much I still want to do here….

National Manif!

Well I survived the big manifestation. I've gotten so many "security adviseries" from the State Department that I just delete them now. They told me to avoid all large demonstrations, but when do I ever listen... When you're in a place where history is litterally being made you can't stay home. You just have to go out and watch. So Bhavana and I did just that. At first we couldn't find the manif! We found some contre-greveurs though. They were a bunch of med students who wanted to go back to class (though they still might not support the CPE, they don't think stopping class is helpful...what an idea...). They were boring though, so we went elsewhere in search of the party. We finally found them in the old part of town, and there were tons of people, young and old. Almost every union and organisation in the surrounding area was there. People played drums and one had a trumpette and people sang and yelled and had a jolly ol time. I seriously think this whole strike thing is just an excuse to get off work/school and have a party. It was more like the 4th of July or a football rally than a strike. All public transport and buildings were shut down. People were festive with painted faces, costumes, instruments, banners, etc... I even saw a little boy with a Winnie the Pooh costume with a sign that said "Winnie contre (against) le CPE". We followed them around and accidently became a part of the march...oops. So we follwed them and took pics and then cut out and went downtown to watch the people file into la Comedie. People just kept coming and coming, there was no end. It was a beautiful day for the strike too, clear skies and warm temps. There was no violence, no vandalism (although I doubt Paris was so lucky, they're not as chill as their southern counterparts down here). Rumor has it that our university will be officially closed by the prez, but who knows. Another rumor claims that even if the students win the fight, they're going to keep striking until the semester is over just to prove that they have control, or that their method worked, or something like that. In the meantime, I have some research papers to write...tear. I may never understand the culture of the "greve" (strike) here, but that won't stop it from entertaining me. I guess if I grew up like they did, I'd be just as anxious to strike at everything. That's France for you, I love it. Even with the strikes, this country has grown on me. It may not be home, but it has a special place in my heart.

ps ill have pics up soon of the greve, and Winnie too!