Thursday, May 2, 2013

Shop 'Til You Drop and Walk 'Til You Wilt

We started out with another early morning because Kate’s host mother was taking us to the "white fort," which was the ruins of an old Turkish fort from the Ottoman Empire, and it was quite a long walk, mostly uphill, and it was supposed to be a hot day so she wanted to beat the heat. She made us a heavy breakfast of eggs from their neighbor’s chickens fried in a ton of butter and served with homemade rolls sprinkled with a seed I didn’t recognize, slathered with sour cream that's not sour and homemade plum jam from the plums in their orchard, and a cup of tea, Kate’s choice over coffee, especially since I had just brought her a box of Tazo Earl Grey from home, which is her favorite.  Nizama served me two eggs and three rolls!  They think I am too small and want to feed me to make me grow!  They call me either "Kah-tee-mama" (Katie's mama) or "Mala Mama" (little mama) and Nizama is "Big Mama."  They think this is very funny!  After breakfast, we started out on our adventure. The new Bosnian word I learned that day was, "paloko," which means, "slow down." I am a fast walker, even by American standards, so I had to force myself...or be reminded...to go at a leisurely Bosnian pace. It was a good three miles to the fort, up the side of the mountain. We stopped at a little roadside store to pick up bananas, and then we continued on our way to the viewpoint at the top, where there was a little café. It felt great to sit down and put our feet up on the fence rails in front of our chairs. Then we ate the bananas and ordered strong, black Bosnian coffee and Turkish delight. It’s never been my favorite candy, but of course eating anything from its source is always better, and I have to say the taste and texture were pretty good! Refreshed, we continued our hike, now going down, down, down. This was almost harder, because it was so steep in places that our already tired legs felt quivery as they supported us. We came to the little white fort and rested there...well, Kate and Nizama rested and I climbed the ruins and made Kate take my picture at the top of what was left of the gate. That worried Nizama...she is a true mother at heart! I climbed back down with only a scratch on the palm of my hand and a dirty spot on my pants. We then continued down the hill towards town. At one point Nizama turned down a narrow alley of cobbled, crudely carved steps. The houses were much smaller here, built right against the alley, and not very well cared for. Nizama turned to us and whispered in Bosnian, gesturing to us by putting her finger to her mouth to be very quiet. I could only understand one word: Gypsy. Kate translated for me:  We were in a gypsy neighborhood, and Nizama didn’t want anyone to hear us speaking English and know that we were American. She was afraid we might be hassled or even stolen from. So silently we picked our way down the rough steps down the side of the hill until we finally reached bottom and a real street and a safe neighborhood. Apparently Sarajevo is a very safe city with very little crime. Kate walks home alone in the dark regularly and has never felt afraid. But a gypsy neighborhood is different. That’s where the crime takes place, and you never go there at night. And, as we learned, Americans shouldn’t go there at all, even in the middle of the day on a sunny afternoon.

Once in town we toured the four main houses of worship, the Serbian Orthodox Church (which they consider Christian), the Catholic cathedral, the Jewish synagogue and the Muslim mosque. The synagogue was also a museum, so we were able to learn about the history of Jews in Sarajevo. The Muslims came with the Turks during the Ottoman Empire. The Catholics came from Rome (there are still Roman and Turkish ruins evident in certain parts of the city), and the Orthodox church came from Russia. Although Sarajevo prides itself on being a city where Christian, Jew and Muslim dwell together peacefully, there are definitely undercurrents of competition...even in the seemingly innocent acts of the Muslim call to prayer and the Catholic cathedral’s church bells. It’s not enough that the bells toll the hour, they also toll long and loud during the mosque’s call to prayer. Which is tallest, the minaret or the spire? And so it goes. By the time we were done touring we were quite hungry, so Nizama led us through the market streets to her favorite place for cevapi...Bosnia’s all-time favorite food. Kate and the other girls in her exchange program say they love it too. I enjoy true ethnic dishes, so I was eager to try it. The little restaurant we went to only served cevapi and nothing else, so there was one big fire oven for the dedicated purpose of baking the flatbread and grilling the meat. The restaurant was hot, so we picked a table furthest away from the oven. Within minutes our plates arrived...a huge round flatbread split in half and stuffed with what looked like breakfast sausages and diced onion. The meat is really closer to a meatball than a sausage in taste and texture, but it is shaped into "fingers" rather than balls. It is made of beef and highly seasoned, then grilled rather than baked. Some people put mayonnaise or ketchup or this creamy cheese on theirs but most ate them plain, which is the traditional way. To me, they were meat on a bun with onion and condiments...a big Bosnian burger! I actually thought they would taste better with some tzatziki or something with a little zip. And they were too greasy for my liking. But I tried them, and that’s what matters! Then Nizama wanted dessert (she loves her sweets!), so we went for gelato. She got three scoops and Kate and I each had one. She was concerned...why didn’t we order cake too? She tried to get us to order cake, "It is so good here!" But we didn’t. In fact, I couldn’t even finish my gelato. If it wasn’t for the walking I’m doing every day, I know I’d be going home 10 pounds heavier! By this time, Nizama and Kate were both turning pink from the sun. Kate received a text that we needed to go to the exchange program’s office to sign some papers, and Nizama gladly let us go on and returned home without us. She was exhausted! After we took care of the paperwork, we didn’t really want to go back home as the sun was still shining, so we went to Kate’s favorite mall so she could show me her favorite store. Then we strolled down to the artsy part of the city where the Art School was and then to a little café that made kebabs (not the way we know it), which was grilled flatbread stuffed with spicy chicken that had been roasted on a spit, lettuce, tomatoes, zucchini, onions, a garlic-yogurt sauce and a rich, flavorful orange-colored sauce. Now that was good! Much better than cevapi, in my opinion! We ate our kebabs sitting on the wall in front of the art school overlooking the river...and I’m proud to say I only got one drip on my blouse!! We decided to head back while it was still light out, and that actually gave us the evening with Kate’s family, everyone was present except the youngest son, with two English speakers, so everything was easily translated. That was a great evening together because we had a real conversation, in depth and full of interesting topics, questions, opinions and stories. Kate had told me that her family never mentioned the war, while all the other girls’ families did. But that night we talked about the war and how it affected them. I heard their story and answered their questions and asked my own. And then I got to share about God’s love for us...all of us, in every part of the world and how that transcends nationality and politics. Nizama shared with me how a Christian organization from the States had actually helped them by dropping aid packages by plane for them.  That had touched her many years ago and she remembered it still.  We finally climbed the railing-less marble stairs to our bedroom and crawled into bed, with a promise that the next morning we’d finally get to sleep in.

It was great to sleep until 7:30! Another gorgeous morning full of sunshine and birdsong. Nizama had another yummy breakfast for us of spinach "pita" and strawberries and coffee. Then we hit the road...another day of walking literally from morning until night!  She didn't join us...we wiped her out the day before and she had quite the sunburn!

Since we had already seen the main tourist places, I thought I’d take care of my shopping so I wasn’t frantically trying to find gifts on my last day. So it was a "shop `til you drop" day, with good food mixed in. I had a wonderfully healthy caprese salad for lunch and an arugula salad with grilled chicken, tomatoes, and parmesan cheese for dinner. I guess I did have some bread with each meal, but to dip fresh, hot homemade bread in olive oil and balsamic vinegar was too delicious to pass up. Then, of course, we had coffee...and crepes. Kate took me to her favorite dessert place that serves foot-long crepes filled with Nutella and served warm, sprinkled with ground hazelnuts, and topped with chocolate gelato and whipped cream. It was delicious. We tried to finish before dark, but there was just too much to do and eat! I just love Sarajevo’s patio scene! I think Portland’s food scene rocks, but you have to know where to go to find a good patio. Here, I would say 85% of the restaurants have patios and most of them are quite nice. Kate and I had so much fun people watching from our vantage point of a table on the street. We also had a great laugh that brought us almost to our knees and made us cry off all our make-up. Coming out of one of the stores in the nice mall, we turned awkwardly, each in a different direction, and Kate stepped on my little toe. Now, this wasn’t just any "little toe." This was the little toe with the big blister that had burst and then been rubbed wide open. It was swollen and very tender to touch. I had accidently scraped it a little bit open again when trying on a shoe earlier that afternoon, so it was throbbing a bit already when Kate stepped on it. Well, I gasped with pain and reached out to grab Kate’s shoulder for support at the same time she turned to help me, which caused me to miss her shoulder and grab her cheek, scratching her nose and making her cry out. Both of us were moaning in pain and laughing hysterically as we limped over to a bench and laughed until we cried, knowing the spectacle we must have made of ourselves in the middle of the mall. Crazy Americans! We could just feel it. Every time we’d sigh, wipe our eyes, and get ourselves under control, we’d look at each other and burst out laughing anew. I was a lot more humorous than it sounds here. It was just one of those moments.

We didn’t make it home by dark and we didn’t stay downstairs to visit with the family. We had to shower, pack and get to bed, because in the morning we had to catch our taxi at 6:15 and catch our bus at 7:15...heading to Dubrovnik!!


Breakfast!




Gypsy neighborhood
 
 
Cathedral
Art school by the river
 
White Fort ruins

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Culture Shock

It’s a good thing I love to walk, because I’ve been doing a lot of it ever since I got here! Very few women drive in Sarajevo and the men take the car to work, so walking is the main mode of transportation. We’ve used the bus, the tram and taxis too, but too many taxis gets expensive, and the bus and tram only go so far...not up the big hill to Kate’s house. So we walk! You’d think with so much hill walking everyone would be fit and slender. Not so. The women here are quite portly, and it’s not hard to figure out why.



After feasting on cookies and cake before going to bed on my first night here, we woke to a quick and early breakfast of coffee, cookies and cake for breakfast. There was a bowl of apples and oranges on the table that weren’t offered but were sitting there, so I asked Kate and she said yes, they were for the taking, but no one usually ate fruit in the morning. So I salvaged my first meal by eating an apple and a left-over string cheese I had in my travel bag. We had to be out the door by 7:30 to catch our bus by 7:50. No time for jet lag...after 28 hours of travel and a 9-hour time change, I was on a 3-1/2-hour bus ride into the Bosnian countryside to visit a war memorial! Halfway through the trip, we stopped at a roadside restaurant and store for a Bosnian coffee break. Bosnians do not get coffee to go. It doesn’t exist. Always you sit, smoke and drink coffee together. We didn’t do any of that. I had already had my coffee for the day, and most of the girls on Kate’s exchange program don’t drink it 5 times a day either, so we bought a snack for the bus ride (healthy popcorn for me and Kate...Kate's host sister brought more cookies!) And then we walked around the pretty area, admiring the view of the river, mountains and trees and playing with the cats and dogs who are everywhere here. After the coordinators and bus driver and another local Bosnian accompanying us had their coffee break, we got back on the bus and continued our trip. The countryside was dotted with once-beautiful homes, now empty...their roofs caved in where a mortar bomb had hit them, their brick walls crumbling, the plaster pockmarked with gunshot wounds, the doorways dark and empty, and trees growing up from the inside with branches reaching out through the windows. Some of the more salvageable homes had been converted into storage buildings to hold hay or equipment. Most stood empty, broken and forgotten...forewarning us of greater sadness ahead. Our destination was the town of Srebrenica on the border of Bosnia and Serbia. In this quiet and beautiful place tucked into the mountains a mass murder of approximately 8500 men took place, under the watchful eye of the United Nations peacekeepers. The tire factory in town, which was the main source of employment, was designated a "safe zone" by the UN for the Bosnian people under attack by Serbian forces. That safe zone ended up being a death sentence. How convenient to have everyone from Srebrenica and all the surrounding villages gathered in one spot! Saved the Serbs a lot of work. After separating the men from the women and children, the men were gunned down. Most of those who tried to escape into the hills met with a grim fate as well, either dying along the way because of injuries or the arduous hike through tough terrain or being discovered by Serb soldiers and killed. Entire clans were wiped out, as here extended families live together, many sharing houses and land. It was a sad and somber trip and rife with political and religious tension. I was hearing the story from another point of view...those who were actually the ones being attacked. I also understood why those who are not Christians have such animosity towards religion. It was religion that caused the war...religion that spawned the hatred...religion that drove men to kill. But it is the work of Christ on the cross...He sacrificed his life for us, erasing sin and death, and ushering into the world not religion but relationship with a loving God who lovingly gave His son and lovingly gathers us into his family as a father and teaches us to love one another. World religion leaves out Jesus. Everything is God, Allah, Jehovah. But without Jesus there is no access to God. Jesus is our peace and he’s broken down every wall!






So those were my musings on the long bus ride back to Sarajevo. Yes, it was an intense start to my visit! But we also had taken time for fun, having lunch in the town of Srebrenica at a little restaurant attached to the owner's home.  We could watch the wife cooking our meal from the big open windows to the patio...everything fresh and homemade.  I ordered authentic goulash served with three huge pieces of homemade bread and washed down with more of that strong, dark, sweet Turkish coffee---always served on a silver tray from a fancy pot.  When we returned to Sarajevo, instead of going home, Kate’s host sister, who had accompanied us to the Srebrenica war memorial, took us to Old Town. This part of the city is alive with activity and full of beautiful buildings dating back 500 years...remains of walls from the Ottoman Empire, ancient cathedrals, synagogues and mosques, and gorgeous structures from the Austro-Hungarian era, now housing stores and markets and cafes. We had gelato, which was delicious, and I sipped from the fountain that promises those who drink of the waters will one day return. We listened to musicians play and admired the beautiful wares in Copper Alley. We were approached by a group of American women, who heard us speaking English and introduced themselves. Kate says when you’re in a foreign country it’s exciting to hear your own language and everyone will stop and introduce themselves. We wandered on until, finally, after a very full day, we climbed into a taxi and headed home...for more cake and cookies! We visited with the family and then went to bed around midnight. I dreamed of Snow White’s evil step-mother who was trying to kill us because we were Christians while the wild dogs hunted us down in packs. It wasn’t funny until the next morning.





But Sunday dawned sunny and beautiful. Kate and I headed to church by taxi. I was excited to visit Kate’s church. This is where she had found her "place." We were welcomed warmly as we entered the little church, which was in a house. The kitchen and bathroom were still there and one bedroom had been turned into a meeting room, but the living room and probably what had been the dining room were opened up to form one large room across the width of the house, and this was the sanctuary. In the windowed nook in the center of the room, the worship band set up and the pulpit stood. There were 40 to 50 people present, with a balanced mix of young and old, students, families, locals and foreigners. On the far side of the room was the "American" section. There were enough Americans who attended to warrant a translator, which was very nice for me. When we had been seated, a woman sat down next to me and said hello. I introduced myself as Katie’s mom, and she said, "We’ve already met." Confused, I looked at Kate, who was looking past me at someone else. I turned around, and there was the group of American ladies we had met the day before in the market! We all exclaimed at how amazing it was that we would cross paths in the market and then end up in the same tiny church the next morning! The service was great...good worship, with all songs I knew---although I couldn’t sing them in Bosnian---a good message on following Christ, a great time of communion with fresh-baked bread and real wine, and a time of fellowship afterward with pizza. Everyone spoke highly of Kate, and I was able to meet all her friends. From church we walked downtown, hitting the mall first so I could finally exchange my money, then having coffee, of course, before we walked down to Sarajevo’s beautiful park on the other side of the river. When we reached the park, which was huge, we took a horse-drawn carriage ride to the scenic side...there were beautiful old hotels circled around a large fountain, pony rides and cafes leading to a long promenade past gorgeous homes belonging to ambassadors and foreign dignitaries. At the end of the promenade, we "alighted from our carriage" and entered the walking paths, which meandered through the park along the waterways, over bridges and through the trees. It was beautiful. The water flowed right through the trees, almost like a forest growing up out of a lake. There were swans and ducks swimming on the clear water and flowers and blossoms blooming on the banks. The apex of the creeks and ponds was the waterfall, and that is where we ate our dinner. There was an outdoor patio and deck built out over the water, and Kate and I got the table at the very furthest point, closest to the falls. With all that fresh water flowing around us, we both found we were in the mood for fish, so we ordered the trout (and they boasted that it was fresh-caught from a local lake). We lingered until the sun began to set and the waterfall mist turned chilly rather than refreshing. We began the very long walk back to town and then caught a bus to take us up the mountainside to Kate’s house...well, got us close to Kate’s house! There is yet another uphill walk from the bus stop. Our feet were pretty sore from all that walking and we were both pretty sure we had blisters. I knew I did because I was almost to Kate’s house when I felt a bursting sensation and a sharp sting. My blister had popped and now my sandal strap was rubbing against my raw skin. I limped the last few yards home. We spent the remainder of the evening visiting with the family, watching Bosnian TV (hilarious!), eating juicy oranges from Spain, and finally heading upstairs for a hot shower and a cozy bed. I had no trouble sleeping that night!!



 

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Bosnia!!

Jet lag is a mysterious thing...it makes you feel like you’ve dreamed everything and it’s not real. But here I sit, sipping my German coffee and nibbling a little almond cookie/cake from the German bakery while I look out the window at the German landscape. Okay, it’s really not that romantic. My view out the window is gray cloud, gray tarmac, gray airport and gray rain. Pretty dreary! I left almost 80-degree weather and Kate has informed me that I’ll be arriving in 80-degree weather, so I won’t complain about the rain here.


Gray Day in Germany


I flew to Chicago yesterday and had a 6-hour lay-over there that I spent in a very boring manner, working my transcription shift online. My flight to Frankfurt, Germany left at 10:15 p.m., so it was an all-nighter. I’ve flown quite a few all-nighters now, and I actually don’t mind them. The flight goes faster when you can sleep through some of it, even if it’s just cat-naps. When I woke, it was around 2 a.m. my time. I sneaked a peek out the window by raising the shade ever so slightly. Bright sun flooded the dark interior of the cabin. My seat-mates snoozed on, unaware. I pulled out my breakfast, which was last night’s dinner, dining on teriyaki chicken, green beans and a slice of Tillamook jack cheese. Yup, that was about as delicious as you imagined it to be. Then I studied and read until real breakfast was served a few hours later. Finally, we were allowed to open the blinds and let the sun shine in. I looked out the window on Ireland and then England. That was cool! Off the coast of England there are wind turbines standing straight up out of the sea. It looked very odd. We then flew over mainland Europe, and began our descent. I was wide awake, even though it was only 4 a.m.  I think it’s easier to adjust to the time change when you fly all night because when you get off the plane you walk right into morning sunshine and your body clock instantly re-sets. Okay, I’ll admit I’m a little tired, but I definitely feel like it really is afternoon here and not early morning like it is back home.

German kafe and a delicious almond cookie

I had a 4-hour lay-over in Frankfurt. Since this is the only Germany I’m going to experience, I had to milk it for all it was worth. I found the most German-looking café to buy a coffee and little almond cake, and then I sat by the window so I could take in the view...of planes and tarmac. I was a little disappointed I couldn’t see the forest and a castle! I did learn something, though. I had noticed that the landscape was full of green trees and farmland scattered with what I was sure must be little villages. There were no farms as we know them...a farm house, a barn or two, and fields surrounding them. There were just neatly defined villages. I never saw a city or any suburbs. I asked the man next to me on the plane about it, and he told me that no one was allowed to build a house on their farms. They may buy land and farm it, but they cannot live on it. So farmers live in villages and business people live in cities. The prettiest places to live looked to be those houses built along a canal. I so wished I could actually drive through some of those quaint villages!

The flight to Vienna was running late, and you know what that means! I already only had 45 minutes between arrival in Vienna and departure to Sarajevo, and watching the minutes tick away made me a little nervous. Of course my seat was at the very back of the plane. My Czech seat-mate told me I needed to just push my way through everyone. Made brave by desperation, I did just that, along with another man behind me who was also headed to Sarajevo. He spoke very little English and I speak no Bosnian, so we gestured our way along and made for our gate. Talk about a run! It seems to me when flying that if your plane is on time and you have a long lay-over, your departure gate will be very close to your arrival gate. But if the plane is late and it’s a tight connection, for sure you will be departing from a gate at least a mile away. And I’m not kidding! At all. So I pushed my way off the plane, rushed past everyone in the terminal, butted right to the front of the long customs line, got admitted into Austria, and then booked it down the long corridor. My buddy was right behind me, clomping noisily and a bit awkwardly in his cowboy boots. I didn’t know they wore cowboy boots in Europe! I also didn’t know they don’t wear flip-flops. No one was wearing flip-flops and many women stared at me. I felt soooo American in my Athleta yoga pants and sparkle flip-flops! We arrived at our gate just as they began to board. I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped through the gate, but there was no plane to board. No, we walked through yet more corridors (which were all heated to 100 degrees!) and then outside to board a shuttle bus that took us to the far corner of the airport tarmac where we boarded the plane the old-fashioned way, climbing on from outside. I must admit it was incredibly refreshing to stand outside in the balmy evening breeze and breathe in Vienna! My Czech friend said they were having summer weather and I was lucky. Although there wasn’t a thing to see but gray tarmac and terminals, the sky was turning pastel with the sunset and the air smelled sweet. It was great to cool off and calm down after the sweaty mad dash through the airport. And then it was on the plane for the very last hour of travel. Night fell and there was nothing to see. I’d have to wait until morning for the mountain views. I touched up my make-up and popped a mint so I’d be presentable to meet Kate’s family. I was so eager to hug Kate. I thought about how kissy-huggy I was with the kids when they were little and how that changes as they grow up. We are affectionate in our family but not gushingly so. Still, there is nothing like flesh on flesh. Kate and I have Skyped regularly and I’m up to date on all she does and most of what she feels. But to hug her and stroke her hair...that is so precious to a mother and I couldn’t wait. Landing took forever.  We circled the city about 2-1/2 times...I knew because I counted how many times we passed the moon, which was huge and a luminous bright yellow.  We finally landed and I cleared customs without a single word exchanged; he just took my passport, typed the number into the computer, stamped it, handed it back and dismissed me with a wave of his hand. Well, that was easy! And then I stepped through the gate to a happy, laughing Kate and her host mom and dad, who greeted me affectionately with a hug and a triple kiss on the cheeks.  We rode all the way through the hilly streets of Sarajevo laughing and talking in a jumbled mix of English, broken English, Bosnian and broken Bosnian...but it worked! We arrived home and went upstairs to unpack and get settled while Kate’s host mom loaded the living room coffee table with goodies...three different kinds of cookies, a rich chocolate-apricot cake, fresh fruit and spinach pita, which is not what you think. It was much more similar to spanakopita, only it was baked in a large pan like a lasagna rather than individual pies. Oh, so good! I could have eaten three pieces, I’m sure! I gave the family the gifts I had brought them, and then we headed upstairs to bed...but who could sleep? I gave Kate the treats I had brought her, we took a picture of us together sitting in the spot I had seen her sit while Skyping for the last 9 months, and then she sat on my bed with me and we talked until we were both sooo tired. Finally, good sense prevailed, because we had to be up at 6:30 as we were taking a bus to a war memorial 3-1/2 hours away. We hugged goodnight and then I slipped under the covers of my bed under the slanted wood-slat roof and listened to the night sounds of Sarajevo until I fell asleep.


Skyping together instead of apart!


Pita!

Saturday, April 27, 2013

One Day...I want to go to Europe!

So, my trip of a lifetime has begun...sort of.


I’ve wanted to go to Europe for as long as I can remember. It was even on my "What I Want in a Husband" list when I was a teenager!

Many people want to go to Europe but most seem to prefer the exotic...places of sun and surf, leis and luaus, or faddish Australia. None of those popular places held priority with me. If I never swam with the dolphins in Mexico, I’d be okay. If I never surfed or ate roasted pig in Hawaii, it’s fine with me. And I’m actually tired of the infatuation with all things Australian! Really, what is so intoxicating about the phrase, "G’day, Mate"? The accent actually annoys me.

No, it’s always to Europe I’ve yearned to go. I’m fascinated by the micro-cultures contained within such a small space. Each country has its own distinct personality and flavor...the language, the food, the music, the scenery, the architecture. By simply hopping a train it is possible to enter a new world within hours, and then another world, and then another world! The history is intriguing too. So different and yet so intertwined, like a twisted family tree whose old, gnarled branches have spanned generations and nations. Most of us trace our ancestry there. For me, it’s a lot of British on my dad’s side and German on my mother’s, with a sprinkling of Austrian-Hungarian and Polish thrown into the mix.

Coming from a twice broken family that moved a lot, ancestry and heritage never really played a part in my life. I didn’t even have a clue what my great-grandparents names were, let alone where they came from. Outside of the fact that I knew my mom had a lot of German in her (her maiden name was Wiesner) and my dad told stories about French royalty, I was pretty much heritage-less, if that’s a word! Even when I was given an assignment when I was in school requiring me to trace part of my family tree, I tried to interview my grandma on my dad’s side---my only living grandparent—and all she could say was, "I’m sorry, honey, I really don’t remember." My mom told me she had a tragic upbringing and probably just didn’t want to go back and revisit it. So I had one grandma and that was it. My dad grew up without grandparents and his own father died when he was 14. My mom grew up without grandparents and her mother died when she was an infant. I wasn’t terribly bothered by my lack of a family tree, but somehow it comforted me that my own children at least had their dad’s 400-year-old traceable lineage in Denmark even if they knew nothing about my side. But then one day when I was in my late 30s I received a letter from my great-uncle, married to my great-aunt, who was sister to my grandmother who had died when my mom was a baby. He was an avid geneologist, and having completed his own family tree, he then moved on to his wife’s. I suddenly held in my hand pages of people who were related to me...all the way back to Germany, for real! I was amazed. I had half a heritage! Then, just a few years later, my dad passed away and I was given an old photo album that contained pictures of him as a baby. But there was something else in that album—a letter to my grandma from her great-aunt with a handwritten family tree. And suddenly I had the other half of my heritage, this time going back to England on both my paternal grandparents’ sides...Lewis Davenport immigrated to the "new land" in the 1700s and his son Nathaniel Davenport even fought in the Revolutionary War! I was about as American as I could be!

So now I knew I was very English and very German, and not one bit French, let alone descended from French royalty, as my father loved to tell! And I’m sitting in an airport in Germany right now as I write this, thinking to myself that 100 years ago my "greats" farmed this green land.

This year is Jeff’s and my 25th wedding anniversary. We planned to travel to Europe together as part of our celebration. In our 25 years of marriage, only once have we taken a trip or vacation that wasn’t combined with ministry. And that is perfectly okay with both of us...I’m actually very thankful for the ministry trips we’ve taken because I know we would never have been able to afford traveling to all the places we've been if they were only vacations. But this time we were going to save every penny and go to Europe for two reasons: 1) We’ve always wanted to go, and 2) Our daughter is there and we want to visit her.

We started on the dreamy, romantic, impractical side of planning our trip: We would start in Sarajevo where our daughter is living as an exchange student, and then we would take a ferry across the Adriatic Sea to Italy, then the train to France where her other host family from a previous exchange lives (she’s definitely got the Travel Bug!), then back on the train through Germany and up to Denmark where Jeff has family. We wouldn’t see England this time; we didn’t want to be too extravagant. Well, we were too extravagant even with our scaled-down plans! Sarajevo, Bosnia is in Eastern Europe, in the Balkans—a beautiful, isolated part of Europe that is very hard to travel in and out of. The cost went way up, and our budget went way down. Then my daughter’s week off school was scheduled for the beginning of May, which didn’t correspond with our plans to visit in the beginning of June, a quiet time in our church and family schedule. There was no way Jeff could take time off for a vacation in the middle of April when life was in full swing. I really couldn’t either, but he insisted I go. So, on Kate’s birthday I bought my ticket.

At first I was disappointed. It just didn’t seem right doing this half-trip...without Jeff and to only one location. But as time went on, I adjusted to the plan and began talking with Kate about what we would do. Suddenly, the Balkans became a beautiful and alluring destination, and I am so excited to see the region. And I am very excited to see my daughter and experience everything she loves about her foreign home for the year.

So although it’s a "sort of" trip to Europe, I think it’s going to be amazing in its own way. I am so excited to be on this journey, and I am thrilled that I’ve been given the opportunity to enjoy this "experience of a lifetime" with my youngest daughter!

Thank you, Jeff, for this special gift. But it’s still on my list that we will "one day go to Europe!"

 

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Dinner at a Hoarder's House (Proverbs 8 and 9)

We gain wisdom in two ways:


Direct = by personal experience

Indirect = by observing the experience of others

Sometimes, we have a choice...we learn by watching others and therefore we don’t have to learn by experience. But sometimes we don’t have a choice. Sometimes we are instructed without seeking instruction. Sometimes we experience without seeking an experience.

But through the course of our lives, whether we observe or experience situations, Wisdom cries out to us. Every aspect of our lives is a lesson. Do we learn our lesson and gain wisdom, or do we ignore the lesson and behave foolishly?

Chapter 8 -  The Excellence of Wisdom

Read Proverbs chapter 8:1-11. Wisdom is noisy and obvious...
- cries out
- lifts up her voice
- takes a stand
- cries out
- calls
- speaks
- opens lips
- speaks
- words of her mouth

Those who don’t hear or listen to the voice of wisdom are essentially putting their fingers in their ears to stop hearing. Foolishness is deliberate. So is wisdom. Neither are accidental. With every experience of life, Wisdom calls out to us...and we have a choice to hear and heed her voice or to ignore it and do our own thing.

Compare heeding or ignoring Wisdom’s call (read v.12-21)
 

Hear - Prudence, knowledge, discretion, fear of the Lord, counsel, sound wisdom, understanding, strength, authority, justice, love of God, riches, honor, righteousness, wealth, treasures

Ignore - evil, pride, arrogance, evil way, perverse mouth

Where did wisdom begin? You’d think it was the first time someone did something that caused hurt, pain or regret...was it the death of Abel? Or was it the fall of Adam and Eve? Or was it still in the Garden of Eden...perhaps Eve climbed a tree to reach for a piece of fruit on the far end of a branch and the branch broke and she fell...she would then have the wisdom not to lean on delicate branches! But life in the garden was perfect, so that probably didn’t happen! No, actually the beginning of wisdom was the beginning of time, the beginning of life, the beginning of being.

Read verses 22-31

Now read John 1:1-5 - In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God and the Word was with God...

God has always existed. God created. He is Wisdom. He was first before all else. He is our plumb line. Everything man has ever thought up or created has come second and is a result of either Wisdom or Foolishness (hearing, learning and heeding vs. not hearing, ignoring and disobeying). Gaining wisdom is a progression. The beginning of wisdom for each of us begins with a revelation of God...God the Creator and Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. That revelation gives us knowledge, and then we begin to understand...and our wisdom expands. Once we have that revelation of God, we then know we need a Savior, and that knowledge leads us to salvation. Once we are saved, we gain more wisdom as we learn how to love, worship and serve God. And as we begin to truly love, worship and serve the Lord, we gain more wisdom from His Word that teaches us how to love, worship and serve Him. Then as we grow in our wisdom through love, worship and service, we next learn how to apply principles to our daily lives...loving God means loving His people, and serving God is often most evident when we serve others. Finally, as we begin loving and serving others, we gain yet another layer of wisdom...practical insights...on how best to do that. The proverbs we are studying are an example of incorporating wise and practical counsel and advice into our lives. We are wise when we don’t just serve others, but when we learn how best to serve others...when we learn different ways to show love...practical points like how to love your husband, love your children, love your neighbor. And it all began with the wisdom that came when we first had a revelation of God.

What is the reward of wisdom? (v. 32-35) - We are blessed, we find life, we obtain favor

What is punishment for disregarding it? (v. 36) - We sin against our own souls, we love death

A lack of wisdom hurts us!


Chapter 9 - Queen Wisdom

In Eastern culture the queen prepared and hosted banquets for her guests. In this passage, the Queen is Wisdom.

- Wisdom builds a house (a house is a dwelling place, it is built new, not remodeled...we are a new creation, and the spirit of God dwells within us!)

- Wisdom hews pillars from a rock (our stability and foundation is The Rock, Christ!)

- Wisdom sets up 7 pillars (7 is the number of perfection...our lives are strong and in order)

- Wisdom provides meat and wine (meat is the doctrine of the Word of God, wine is the Holy Spirit)

- Wisdom furnishes a table (God’s abundant supply and provision for our lives)

- Wisdom sends out maidens (ministering servants to help us)

- Wisdom invites everyone in (salvation and grace are available to all who will receive!)

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.

If you don’t feel very wise, then remind yourself of your awe and respect and devotion to the Lord...and wisdom will follow! The fear of the Lord prompts us to love more selflessly, obey more readily, give more generously, think more positively, forgive more freely, work more willingly, read and pray more diligently, worship more fervently, share more enthusiastically, understand more completely.

In comparison to the Queen of Wisdom is the Foolish Woman...

She also has a house. She also calls out. She lures and tempts, drawing us in by our own fleshly desires. But there is no life there. It is death and hell. Living life in the flesh goes the way of all flesh...death. Living life in the spirit goes the way of the spirit...abundant life!

 

The contrast is vivid...think of visiting a beautiful home and being invited for dinner. The food is exquisite and delicious. The table is set beautifully. The hostess welcomes you warmly at the door and invites you in. The servants move efficiently and quietly to serve you well. That is Wisdom’s home.

Now think of the TV show, "Hoarders." At the Fool’s house, she is also calling out to you to come in. She draws you by tempting you with something you secretly want and desire...something your flesh craves. You walk up the steps to her home. She opens the door and lets you in. The house is full of garbage...stacked high on all sides nearly to the ceiling. You climb over pile after pile until you find your way to the kitchen. There is no table. There are no chairs. The sink and counters are overflowing with dirty dishes and half-eaten, half-rotten food. You pick up a dirty bowl and fill it with food scraps from other plates, the counters, the cupboards and the fridge. That is your dinner. Sickness and death follow. We say we’d never do that, but every time we disobey that’s exactly what we’re doing. We’ve chosen to disregard Wisdom and do what is foolish, doing what we know we shouldn’t do...and the pleasure is short-lived. Misery is the end result.

So choose dinner at Wisdom’s house! Listen to her voice. Heed her call. Enter in to a place of beauty, rest and abundance. That’s the life God intends you to live!







Monday, March 4, 2013

"A Little Bit of Everything" Dessert!

We haven't baked in awhile, so maybe it's time to get out the measuring cups and create something fresh and sweet for Spring!

"They" say that rhubarb is a spring fruit, but my plant doesn't bear stalks until late summer.  But I'll go with what "they" say, because I like rhubarb and I couldn't help but buy a few of those ruby-red stalks on a whim while grocery shopping last week!  I bought enough to make two recipes, one a tried-and-true rhubarb coffee cake.  The second was my "a little bit of everything" dessert.

I needed a dessert for Sunday dinner, and also I had a few things in the fridge that needed to be used.  Now that doesn't sound very appetizing at all...left-overs for dessert?  Ahhh, but sweet left-overs can be very good!  Just read on, and you'll see!

In my fridge and cupboards was the rest of the rhubarb just starting to go soft, an opened package of cream cheese, 2 packages of lady fingers, amaretto, apple crisp topping that I had mixed a couple weeks ago and actually made too much of, and half a bottle of Bing cherry syrup.  Hmmm, there was a theme here...cherry, almond, amaretto.  And there were some common denominators like lady fingers, cream and amaretto as well as rhubarb and crisp topping.  So I concocted a Cherry-Rhubarb Creamy Crumble!  I think it was pretty yummy!

So now you can go to the store and buy what I had left over and make it for your next dessert!

My first thoughts were either a rhubarb crisp or a spin-off on tiramisu.  But I wanted to use all the ingredients, not just half of them, so I diced the rhubarb and simmered it in a pan with the cherry syrup until it was thick and saucy and then chilled it. 




While that was simmering and cooling, I laid one package of lady fingers in a 9x13 dish and brushed them with the amaretto. 



Then I sweetened the cream cheese and added a bit of almond extract (here is where I would make a change...I would use marscapone cheese mixed with freshly whipped whipping cream instead of cream cheese for a lighter, creamier taste and texture) and spread that on top of the amaretto-soaked lady fingers. 


Then I spread half the chilled cherry-rhubarb sauce over that.  I repeated those layers with the second package of lady fingers brushed with amaretto, the other half of the cream mixture, and the other half of the rhubarb sauce. 



Then I sprinkled the crisp topping over the dessert and refrigerated it over night. 


The next day I preheated the oven to broil and then popped the chilled dessert into the oven just to "crisp" the crisp.  I served it with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, just as I would for crisp.  I think whipped cream with almond extract or amaretto would be even better, but I was using what I had.  And there it was...creamy, sweet, cold and warm, with a crunchy top.  An incredible contrast of texture and temperature.  Next time I might do strawberry-rhubarb, which I think would be even better!


This is not an accurate picture...it actually had beautiful
red and white stripes with the crumb topping adding contrast.




So give it a try!  Here is the recipe in a format that you can copy and print.

Happy spring!


Cherry-Rhubarb Creamy Crumble

Rhubarb sauce:
3 to 4 stalks of rhubarb
1 cup cherry/berry syrup or fresh strawberries or raspberries
Simmer over medium heat until soft and saucy.  Chill.

Cake layer:
2  pkg. lady fingers
1/4 c. Amaretto
Lay one package of lady fingers in a 9x13 baking dish.  Brush with half the Amaretto.  Spread with cream filling then sauce mixture and repeat.

Cream filling:
8 oz. marscapone cheese
1 cup whipped cream (sweetened to taste)
1/2 tsp. almond extract
Whip the cream with sugar and extract, then fold it into the marscapone cheese.

Crisp topping:
1/2 c. butter
1 c. oats
1/2 c. flour
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. white sugar
1/2 c. slivered almonds
dash salt
Sprinkle topping evenly over dessert.

Chill the dessert a few hours or overnight.  Preheat broiler, then broil a few minutes to crisp the topping.  Watch carefully so top doesn't burn.  Serve with fresh whipped cream lightly sweetened and flavored with either Amaretto or almond extract.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Country Living...Indian Style!

There's nothing like waking up in the country, especially in another country!  The first sound always is the birds and the second sound is the rooster!!  I was hot.  Sometime in the night we had awakened, freezing, because we had left the air conditioning on.  The bedding here was very light...just a sheet over the mattress (no mattress pad) and just a sheet for a blanket.  But they had thoughtfully left a fleece throw at the foot of the bed.  When I awoke cold in the night, I remembered seeing the fleece and I reached down and felt for it in the dark, pulling the soft warmth around me and promptly falling back to sleep.  Then Jeff woke me and said he was freezing.  I covered him with the blanket and reached for the beautiful wool pashmina shawl I had received as a gift the night before and used that for a blanket, again falling right back to sleep.  Then with the early light of morning filtering through the curtains and the birds and roosters singing their wake-up songs, I realized I was cooking hot.  The air conditioner was off and so was the fan.  I got up and searched for the air conditioning remote control.  On, off, on, off.  Nothing worked.  I tried the wall switches.  Nothing worked, not even the overhead light.  Then I vaguely remembered something being said about only having power for only certain hours of the day.  So, the power was off.  Oh, well.  The dim light was enough for me to gather my clothes and toiletries and head for the bathroom, which was even darker.  I turned the faucet on in the tub and waited for it to warm up.  It didn't.  I vaguely remembered something being said about a bucket of hot water when we wanted to wash.  So, there was no hot water.  Oh, well.  I gritted my teeth and splashed cold water on my feet first, then my face, arms and legs.  I leaned over and wet my hair, shivering as I lathered, then rinsed.  Finally, I did what I was dreading most...ran the cold water down my back.  Okay!  I was absolutely wide awake and I wasn't hot any more!  I quickly dressed and then went back to the bedroom and opened the curtains and the wooden shutters and let the morning breeze cool the hot room while I unpacked and got settled.  Then it was Jeff's turn to discover there was no power and no hot water!  We went downstairs for breakfast, curious to see what a real Indian family eats.  We had spicy rice, fried "doughnuts" that were savory instead of sweet and studded with caraway seed, omelettes, which were eggs with onion and spices mixed and spread thin in the pan like crepe batter and then fried, boiled potatoes, bananas, oranges and grapes, and "milk tea."  We were served, so the portions were huge.  I was stuffed!  Then Jaya took me to her garden while the men visited around the table.  In her backyard, just outside the kitchen door, she had banana trees, grape vines, squash and herbs and many things I didn't know the names of...one of them a "drumstick" tree, which grew long, thin "sticks" off its branches that were cooked and eaten like vegetables.  In her front yard, she had all kinds of fruit trees---lemons, mangoes, and pomegranate among the more exotic varieties!  Around the borders of her yard and driveway were gorgeous roses and other flowers.  I remembered back to when they had visited us in Canada and Jaya kept exclaiming how beautiful Jasper was with flowers growing everywhere...even on the light posts.  She was so inspired that she took home some packages of seeds.  She said to us, "One day I will plant these at Faith City.  I want Faith City to be full of flowers and very beautiful."  I looked around at all the fragrant trees and flowers and the beauty of her handiwork and told her she had made her dream come true!

The men came out to join us and then Dr. Sam took us for a tour of Faith City.  We began at the dormitories, which housed the male Bible College students as well as male boarding students for the "English Medium School" (preschool, elementary, junior high and high school).  The layout was the same as the dormitories at Portland Bible College where Jeff and I both attended and 3 of our 4 kids have attended as well.  We remarked that the Bethesda Dormitory at Faith City was in better condition than the dorms at PBC!!  There was no school for the next three days because of the conference that was taking place, but all the students were still required to study quietly in their rooms.  Each room we visited contained about 10 bunk beds and 10 boys, all sitting on their beds with their books on their laps, busily doing homework.  Such discipline and diligence!  From there we crossed over to the Bible College and toured the offices, empty classrooms, and beautiful library, and then saw the preparations for the conference that were being made.  The very large upper room of the college building was laid out with mattress after mattress, ready for the many pastors who would be arriving all day that day.  This room was to be their shared dorm room.  Downstairs we also toured the dining hall and kitchen and storage rooms where mountains of bagged rice, milk, eggs and vegetables were piled and huge kettles were stacked, waiting to be used to prepare meals for the pastors attending the conference.  Outside were many piles of fire wood...all the cooking would be done over a big fire.  The students were busy at work...sweeping, stacking wood, weeding, and setting up the canopy and chairs, which would become the outdoor dining hall.  Again, we marveled at the hard work and organization as everything was put in order.  From the college, we crossed over to the orphanage.  Here it was study time as well, because school had been cancelled.  The orphanage of course housed the orphans, but it was also the dorms for the female Bible College and boarding school students.  The kids were thrilled to see us.  They shyly showed us their rooms and gladly lined up in neat rows for a picture.  But the happiest time of all was when they were allowed to greet us.  Then they broke rank and broke into smiles and were all hands reaching out to touch me.  I squeezed their little hands and gave them hugs, and they gathered around me like bees.  Then it was time for them to get back to their studies, and we moved on to the English Medium School.  This is a fully-accredited school open to the public by tuition.  Students who live far away can board, and students from the nearby village walk every day.  The large courtyard in the middle of the building was where the conference would be held, so there was a flurry of activity there as the large canopy was being set up and chairs were being placed.  The school was neat and tidy and contained a small library, a small computer lab and even a small chemistry lab.  The school is special because it is a Christian school.  The Hindu children from the village who attend not only receive top-quality education in English (far superior to the one-room Hindu school in the village), but they also receive the gospel, complete with chapel times, worship and scripture.  It is a powerful outreach tool into the village.  And in order to build a good working relationship with the people in the village, one of the first things Dr. Sam did was supply the village with a bore-well and pump, so the villagers would have access to clean water.  They are praying to reach more families in the village, and the school is a great way to do that in a culture that so highly prizes education.  Dr. Sam took us up on the roof of the school and showed us the land to the north, east, south and west of the Faith City compound.  There was a big chicken farm to our left...they want to one day purchase that, first to expand and second to eliminate the odor!  Next to the chicken farm were brick factories.  These are even a greater nuiscance to Faith City, as they churn out thick black smoke all day, every day.  They are praying these factories will move.  To our right was the village.  Faith City stands out like a jewel...a place of beauty and order.  Such care has gone into the building of this place.  It is truly a natural example of the spiritual transformation of the Lord's touch...something raw and uncultivated changed into something fruitful and beautiful!

By the time we finished our tour, the sun was directly overhead and it was hot!  We made our way back to the house for cold water and another huge meal.  We discussed power and water issues again, now that I was fully awake and paying attention!  There was no power from the hours of 6 a.m. until 2 p.m., and for hot water we were simply to come to the kitchen in the morning and take up a bucketful to our bathroom.

After lunch it was ministry time...and a busy three days it would be.  First was the alumni meeting with all the Bible School students for the past 10 years gathering for fellowship, to share reports on their work in their various regions, take tea together, and have a special service just for them before the official conference began.  Tea time was a quick break before the conference officially started, and then we had service after service with breaks only to eat and sleep.  Again, the Indian discipline and hunger amazed me.  At our conferences back home, everyone wants their free time to go shopping or sight-seeing.  Here, they just want to learn...stocking up all the good things they could to take back to their home churches and ministries.  It was a privilege to minister to them, and easy too, because of their receptivity and eagerness to hear the Word.  I loved preaching to them!  What wonderful, kind, and loving people they are...so full of respect and humility.  They treated us like royalty.  But as the conference continued, we got to know each other.  Jeff and I were so happy to talk to them and hear their stories.  We were honored to pray for them...men and women who had literally sacrificed all for the sake of the gospel.  I noticed that the first day we were together, I was greeted with a handshake, a warm smile, and little bows of respect.  The next day the women greeted me with hugs and were much more talkative.  And the third day, I was mauled!  I was kissed and squeezed and patted and pinched (gently!).  I always thought Indians were conservative and not very affectionate, but I was wrong!  They are very loving and affectionate, and I truly enjoyed every moment with them! 

That day was also fun in a different way.  Our good friends from Canada for many, many years (25 years for me and for Jeff, his whole life) were also guests at the conference.  Harold Steinbrenner has carried Faith City and the churches in Visag on his heart for the last 10 years, and he has funded the ministry most generously.  He and his daughter Tricia were here for the conference and Bible College graduation, and it was fun to share a few days together so very far from Edmonton!

That night after the late meeting, we went back to the house for another huge meal.  I noticed that day that my ankles were quite puffy.  Too much salt, too much sitting, too much heat, I guess.  Tricia's were also swollen, so we lamented together that we looked 9 months pregnant!  After dinner, we all said goodnight.  It was late, and everyone was tired.  Back in our room, we worked the system.  There would be power all night, but air conditioning full blast was much too cold.  So we turned on just the fan to continue circulating the already cooled-off air in the room and then at 4:20 when I awoke, I turned the A/C back on to cool the room for the morning.  Then I shut the bathroom door to keep it warm for bathing.  The reason I woke so early was because of the wedding next door.  Hindu weddings last days, and the music goes on and on and on...so at exactly 4:23 a.m., loud Hindi music filled our room.  I actually liked it.  I felt like I was I was watching a documentary on India with the Hindi background music playing while the scenes of villages, mountains, and palm trees rolled across the screen...only I was in the documentary!  I fell asleep until 5:45 when I awoke itchy.  I knew I had a couple mosquito bites, but my legs were itchier than that.  I got out of bed and stood in front of the window so I could see better.  My ankles looked thinner...every morning I could see my ankle bones then by mid morning they would be fat again.  But it was my feet and calves that were the problem this time.  They were covered in bites.  Bed bugs!  Every night I had slept in my travel sheets, which act as a liner.  But yesterday they had changed the sheets, and when we went to bed my travel sheets were no longer there.  It was too late to do anything, as the laundry lady would have gone home hours ago, so I crawled in between the two sheets and my pashmina shawl and went to sleep.  In just one night of no sheet liner, I was covered with itchy, red bites!  So now I had blotchy red bites on my legs and fat ankles!!  Now I was glad we had to keep our legs covered and was glad for my leggings!  The wedding music was still going strong, and it made me think of my Zumba class back home, so I actually pulled out my resistance bands and did my morning work-out right in my cool, air-conditioned bedroom...and even coaxed Jeff into joining me!  Then at 6 the power went off.  Perfect!  Workout done and the room was cool.  I then went downstairs and asked for my bucket of hot water.  I shared a cup of "milk tea" with Jaya while we waited for the water to boil, and then I carried the bucket upstairs into the warm bathroom and took a bath Indian-style!  They don't use the tub or the hand-held shower sprayer.  They stand on the floor over the drain with a bucket and a pouring cup.  So when in Rome, do as the Romans!  I had a nice warm bucket bath, and it worked just fine!  Happy with our new system, I went downstairs for breakfast and right into Day 2 of the conference.

Funny story for the evening:  As we were getting ready to walk from the house over to the meeting area, Mercy (Pastor Jameson's wife) said to me, "Let me fix your hair.  You need to look like you are speaking to pastors."  Now believe-you-me, I had taken great pains in preparing for this trip!  I agonized over what to wear, wanting to be appropriate and modest yet cool and comfortable.  I knew they didn't show their legs or shoulders and didn't wear jewelry.  I knew they didn't wear make-up but did wear head coverings.  How was I to dress?  In the summer at home, our legs and arms are always bare.  We wear jewelry and make-up.  I looked and looked and looked for long dresses/skirts that were also brightly colored and cool.  There was nothing.  Anything that was long enough was black and heavy.  Anything light enough was short.  I finally ended up at Goodwill...no joke.  I had remarked out loud to my daughter that I hadn't worn a long floral skirt down to my ankles since the early `90's, and that's when it occurred to me...Goodwill sells old clothes from the `90's!  So, the day before we left for our trip, I was at Goodwill, rummaging through the skirt section (found an old skirt I had donated...too funny!).  I finally found two that would do and paid $15 for them.  So that day of the conference I was wearing a lavender floral skirt that ruffled nicely down to my ankles and a lavender cotton blouse.  My curly hair was neatly clipped back.  I wore only light make-up (I do not have the beautiful dark skin the Indian girls do!).  No necklace or bracelets, just my wedding ring and a small pair of pearl earrings.  So when Mercy wanted to do my hair I was surprised.  But of course I graciously submitted!  She led me to Jaya's bedroom and stood me in front of the mirror.  Then she pulled the clip out of my hair and grabbed a comb.  "Uh-oh," I thought.  If any of you have curly hair, you will know that it is impossible to comb it.  I said to Tricia, who had followed us, "Go get my camera...this is going to be good."  Then I gritted my teeth and pretended not to feel a thing as Mercy drug that comb through my tangled curls.  She slicked back all my hair away from my face and pinned it behind me with a big barrette.  "Mercy," I said.  "It's not going to work.  All the hair around my face will start to curl in a few minutes and it'll look like this..." and I scrunched up my fingers and made curly motions all around my face.  "No problem," she said.  And she took bobby pins and little barrettes and clamped down the fly-away pieces of hair around my face.  Wow.  I did not look pretty.  Tricia was stifling her laughter behind me.  "Nothing on Facebook!" I hissed. "Promise me!"  As we walked out of the bedroom, I said to her, "Watch Jeff's face."  He took one look at me and said, "Wow, Hon."  His words didn't give him away, but his facial expression sure did!  Everyone laughed.  Then Mercy tucked her arm through mine and said, "Now you look like a preacher!" and off we went!

Early the next morning, Jeff and I decided to walk to the village.  I had been longing for two things...to go walking and to see more of the countryside and village life.  We were let out through the gates of the compound and turned down the dirt road towards the village.  The little road was already quite busy with walkers, bicycles, auto-rickshaws and trucks, and we often had to step aside to let them pass.  There is no running water in the village, so people were outside in front of their houses with a bucket of water, brushing their teeth, shaving, and washing their faces.  The electricity was off for the day, so fires were going and breakfast was being cooked.  Chickens and dogs ran around as the kids played.  Women walked to the well, filled their vessels with water, and carried them home on their heads.  Men chatted at the tiny "store" or bathed at the public bath in the center of the village.  It was quite the lively place, and we were quite the spectacle.  I tried to be discreet in taking pictures...often not even aiming but keeping my camera down at my waist, pointing towards the direction I wanted and shooting, hoping that I'd capture a few good shots just at random.  People openly stared at us.  They watched us coming and continued to stare after we had passed.  It was a slow walk...too many "obstacles" on the roadside needing to be avoided and having to step aside for vehicles, plus we just kind of matched the pace of everyone else, which was definitely a saunter.  I think a power-walk would have been just too odd for that culture!  Dr. Sam told us later that Jeff and I were the first white people to visit that village!


Collecting water in the village
We returned home, picked up our bucket of hot water, and got ready for the day.  The conference ended at lunch time, as the afternoon and evening was given to the Bible College graduation ceremony.  We were surprised that we, too, would be wearing gowns and marching in the procession.  With great pomp and circumstance, we lined up in our places behind the flags and before the graduates and marched from the lane, up to the school, into the courtyard and up the center aisle.  It was a great service, full of worship, song, prayer, speeches, inspirational messages, commissioning and blessing...and pictures!  I think we spent a good hour after the service standing with the students and their families for pictures.  Then we exchanged Facebook and email addresses and hugged goodbye.  We had a long and leisurely dinner, as the end of the 3-day conference and graduation marked the end of ministry for everyone, except me who would be speaking to a woman's group the next day.  We ended the meal with a wonderful dessert of buttery, sugary, almost caramel-y squares that none of us could stop eating.  We all liked it so much that we were promised to go shopping for some the next day to take home with us.  Then it was goodbye to Jameson and Mercy and Harold and Tricia and off to bed.  When we got to our room, we realized it was only 9:00.  Usually we were just sitting down for dinner at 9, so we were wide awake.  I studied for my ladies message the next day and uploaded my numerous pictures and Jeff read for awhile and then went to sleep early.

Our last day in India dawned the brightest and hottest.  I was glad we had a gradual heat up, because it made it easier to adjust to the warm climate.  I had my early morning "milk tea" with Dr. Sam and Jaya and then took my hot water upstairs for my last Indian bath.  We spent the morning packing and then came down for a late breakfast of a unique wheat and banana dish that tasted a lot like banana bread.  Then of course, there was all the other accompaniments, like omelettes, porridge, oranges and grapes and more tea.  I was sure I was going home a good 5 pounds heavier (and probably 2 of those pounds were in my ankles alone!).  After breakfast, we toured the English Medium School, now back in session, and then joined together with Dr. Sam and Jaya in their prayer room, which was a whole room of their house completely dedicated to prayer.  It was beautiful.  I want one.  We all prayed for each other, sealing our time of ministry together and blessing each other as we continued the work of the Lord in our separate worlds.  Then we loaded the car and drove back to Visag where we had another huge meal at Jameson and Mercy's before I went upstairs to the church to speak to the ladies.

My goodness!  What a beautiful sight to behold!  I walked into the church and the women had already gathered for prayer and worship.  There were no men, just row after row after row of 300 women in gorgeous saris of every color.  It honestly looked like a flower garden!  No wonder they noticed that North Americans wear so much black.  It is such a contrast to the vivid hues worn here.  Such brightness and beauty!  I loved it.  I had a wonderful time speaking to the women, and afterward again I prayed many "prayers of blessing" over each one and then there were more pictures!  We went back downstairs to Mercy's house and had yet one more meal before gathering in prayer again to say goodbye.  Then we got in the car and headed into downtown Visag for some last-minute shopping before flying out...more spices, the sweets we had eaten the night before, beautiful silk scarves for my girls, wood carvings for my boys, and then finding places for everything in our luggage!  By now it was dark, and our trip was over.  They saw us off at the airport with many hugs and blessing and we boarded the plane and took off at 11 p.m.  We were both able to sleep a bit, but the flight to Singapore was only 4 hours, so we were off the plane at what felt like 3 a.m.  We had a 3-hour lay-over, so Jeff bought his first Starbucks coffee in a week and a half and I had a chai, not from Starbucks!  We walked the shops until it was time to check in to our gate and then, lo and behold, I spied a foot massager...and it was free!!  In total bliss, I slid my fat feet into the slots, leaned back, closed my eyes, felt the sun on my face through the big windows, sipped my chai and let the machine roll away 10 days of foot and leg abuse!  I think I was there for a good 30 minutes, until I felt perhaps someone else may need it as much as I!  From there, life was pretty uneventful.  We flew to Seoul, we flew to San Francisco....long, long hours in the air, some of it spent dozing uncomfortably, some of it spent studying for the next message we both had to prepare, some of it spent trying to watch a movie. (I say "try" because I started 4 movies and finished none of them...content and language was too bad.  It used to be they would clean up movies for the airlines; not so any more.  Rated R stay Rated R, only they don't display the rating so you don't know until you're into it and then...)  When we arrived at San Francisco, there was no room to land so we circled the city for 45 minutes.  This made me nervous because we only had a 2-hour lay-over and we had to clear customs along with the other 300 people on this international flight.  We booked it for customs as soon as we could break free of the people, but the line was still so long.  Then we had to collect our luggage.  There was so much luggage they had to move part of it over to another carousel, so Jeff and I split up so we could watch each one.  Finally, we had everything on the cart and rushed out of customs.  We were told by one official it was highly unlikely we'd make our flight and by another that if we ran like "heck" we could make it.  We decided to run like heck.  Just as we started to throw our luggage on the check-in belt, I noticed one suitcase was missing.  At the same time, the guys loading our luggage noticed we were at the wrong airline.  The girl at the door had waved us over this way and we had obeyed.  Wrong.  We were supposed to go to the opposite side of the airport...after we retrieved our missing suitcase, in customs, which was {forbidden} to re-enter.  So then I had to find an official to escort us back into customs.  We split up again and ran through the piles of luggage, scanning everything as quickly as we could for our missing suitcase.  Aha!  I spied it and grabbed it, and then we ran just like they do in the movies....oh, my, what an adventure!  I had planned to use our San Fran lay-over to change clothes and freshen up, but there wasn't a minute to spare.  So not only would we be arriving home in 2-day unwashed clothes and bodies, we were now adding sweat on top of it all as we huffed and puffed our way to the other end of the terminal.  When we got to security, we split up again.  I went straight through with my carry-on and Jeff went the other way to check our bags.  We were chancing it that if I got through I could convince them to hold the plane for Jeff.  But in our confusion, I grabbed the wrong carry-on (they are identical bags), which was the one holding our beautiful Swiss Army knife (an expensive one, too!  I had won it!).  Sure enough, I was pulled aside and my bag search, my knife confiscated and then I was let go to run some more.  By the time all that had taken place, Jeff was just minutes behind me.  Now I was almost certain we wouldn't make it, but I ran anyway.  I got to the gate as they were closing it.  Breathlessly, I told them my husband was right behind me.  The agent said they would hold the plane for exactly one minute.  They sent me through and called his name on the intercom.  I sat down in my seat with physical relief, but I anxiously scanned the doorway to see if Jeff would make it.  The flight attendants were closing the overhead compartments.  The motor roared to life.  "Oh, come on!  Come ON!" I willed Jeff in.  And then, there he was.  We weren't sitting together for this flight, but it didn't matter.  We made it!  And so our adventure ended...and I fell asleep and slept pretty much the entire flight, even though I hadn't planned to do that and didn't think I would.  But we both did, and then woke up to landing in cold, rainy Portland...but the rain stopped as we began our drive home.  I took a hot shower as soon as we got home and then spent the evening unpacking, doing laundry, and telling stories of all our wonderful adventures in the exotic land of India...country of contrasts, people of dignity and desperation, place of beauty...forever in my heart.

The entrance to Faith City


Boys Dorm
Students in their room


Mattresses ready for the pastors to arrive

The Bible College at Faith City

Rice!!

Fire going, cooking big pots of rice

Our room

Love the windows

View from our bedroom

Indian bath
The driveway into Faith City

Beautiful vegetables ready for preparation

Rice pots!

Canopy going up!

Saying hello to the orphans

Dr. Sam and Jaya's house

I love the windows!

Banana grove

Faith City lit up at night...this is the view from
Dr. Sam and Jaya's roof, which is like a big patio

The chicken farm next door!

Pastors and wives lined up for lunch

Huge spice grinder...smelled wonderful!

Peeling mountains of potatoes

The kitchen

My "cankles"  (calf and ankles that are one,
in case you didn't know!)

The road to the village.  The fence on the left
belongs to faith city.  Each section has a
scripture verse printed on it.

Village scene
 

Grocery store in the village

Public baths

Village street

Village woman

Ready for graduation

Diplomas and gifts

Praying a blessing on the students

The women's meeting at Mercy's church

Store full of beautiful fabric

Sweet shop!

Blessing the babies!
 P.S.  I just have to add that of all my mission trips, this one was the most bug-free!  I never saw a cockroach or a spider the entire time I was there!