Lessons of the Afternoon

There was an Asian woman this afternoon. She had set up the usual speaker with a guitar and microphone. Into this microphone she was singing How Great Thou Art. But she was singing it in the strange full way a person who has never known English would.

And I thought, "interesting."

Walking around Westminster Abbey this afternoon Kat and I crossed the path of some middle aged women wearing Victoria's Secret Pink Sweatpants. I wish I could state that their sweat pants were what bothered me the most, but that would be the fact that despite the signs telling you not to, they were eating as they walked.

And I thought, "Interesting."

I'm not good with the words right now,

I thought it intelligent to spend some time just being here before I tried to organize my experiences. Now I have been here five days, and I have seen many of my childhood dreams come true. But now I still don't know what to write.

In this age of cell phones and the internet London could be just another borough of New York City. Except that its like the ferry stopped floating and my parents can't come visit on a whim.

There are a lot of things I could say about London, many of which are way too poetic and mostly crap. But I will tell you this - The food is just as bad as everyone has told me, and trying to find better food gives me a headache because I realize that I am twice as poor as I think I am.

The First Weekend

Camp Poconos

Act I
Monday

Arrivals.


Act II
Tuesday

Matt and Nate commune with the woods while girls sit on warm rocks and Whoredan falls into water.
Travel to pool.
Boys complain. Girls read anyway.
"But if pandas as extinct, they'll have to stop making stuffed pandas." -Emily
"But they still make stuffed dinosaurs." -Sonja

Act III
Wednesday

Sad attempts at volleyball.
More pool. More reading.
Kat and Justin arrive.
Campfire.
"90% of women are vegetarians." -Justin
"NO! I'M NOT A BABY HO!" -Caitlin

Act IV
Thursday

Romping through water and woods. We jump from things. We climb things. We scrape our elbows and bruise our legs.
We starve.
"Yeah like that Spanish sandwich you wrote about." -Heather

Act V
Friday

Kat and Sonja explore New Jersey.
Emilio and Whoredan go on a rescue mission.
Others go on a hike. And starve.
Distracted by possible outcome of rescue mission by Wii.
Lindsay arrives unexpectedly.
Embraces.
Campfire.
We opt for cinematic genius with The Hottie and the Nottie.
"A life without orgasms is like a world without flowers." -Paris Hilton as the Hottie

Act VI
Saturday

Reunion ends.

My Trip To China

Ok, its not as cool as JD and Justin's but this is a trip to China we can all take by heading over to Amazon and buying a copy. I read about "20 Fragments of a Ravenous Youth" in BookPage two weeks ago and decided that I should pick up a copy and see what the hype is about. The book is less than 200 pages so though I haven't got my copy yet (it gets to NH tomorrow and I am in ME) I hope to have it done by the time I get off the train in PA on the 17th.

Anyway, you should head over to BookPage and read the review and I'll tell you what I think in a few weeks.

Question: Other than Art of War and Confucius what Chinese Lit have you read? Sort of sad since a third of the world is from China right?

NYC

So I just want you all to know that before I refused to write on the blog because I wasn't traveling...now, after traveling, I'm not writing on the blog because I am just too lazy.

Kosova Revisited

And so I awoke to the unfamiliar way the emerging sun lights my house, to a sore throat, a complaining stomach, an inexpressible fatigue, and to thoughts and reflections as unorganized as the pile of dirty clothes now strewn across my floor.
The first time I left Kosova it was with a sense of awe and admiration. I witnessed the presence and working of God in a place filled with love and hope for humanity (and all its distorted past). I left Kosova the first time with a clarity--questions answered and visions of the future set in my mind. I left knowing that I would return, and knowing that the course of my life had been altered in both hidden and recognizable ways. It was from that first time that I knew I would later have an Albanian word permanently stamped on my wrist--lavderoj. What I didn't know was that five years later I would be sitting on a beach in Albania with seven precious students surrounding me, and that I would be telling them about my belief in God's voice and his unmistakable plan for my life and my passion for Kosovars. I told it in words that were not my own. I think I ended by explaining just why the word glorify had to be in Albanian. Not finding the adequate words, I said "and I really like you guys," and patted Rufat's knee. They smiled. And so did I. I think Lynn was crying. My love for Kosovars had been exposed and expressed. There it was, frighteningly dangling in the silence. But it was not left unreciprocated. The hearts of Kosovars are generous and willing. They have loved me genuinely. They have shattered my shell.

As the Americans stood around a van at 2:45 in the morning on the day of our departure (the abashed sadness apparent in the smiles) Besarta, one of our students and a believer, squeezed me hard. She released me, grabbed my hand and turned it skyward. "Don't forget this," she said with a point to my wrist. "Don't forget this". She may have said it more. I was too baffled to notice.

Shengjin, Albania

It began to rain as I walked down the street this afternoon. The mountains press closely against the ocean. The ocean is warm, like the air. Along the street are shitets with generous displays of Fanta orange.

I'll map it out:
The day begins early. And not to a shower nor to a cup of coffee (though I manage to sneak in cappuccinos before class). After our morning devotionals is breakfast, which is usually bread, eggs, and weird stuff (repeat above parentheses). Then class begins! I am teaching level three students, so for instance when they talk about their families they say "we are 12", or they say "he is going to learn me to swim". There are seven students in the class. It is stifling in the classrooms, but the time goes quickly and they are gracious and willing students.
Lunch!
And then the afternoons are spent playing games in the ocean or lounging on the beach. After dinner is a group discussion time when we discuss the reading from the Bible done in class.
Then, at night, is DANCING!!
And then we fall into our beds with the humidity of the night pressing upon us and the next day's lesson plans running though our heads.

Goodbye, Kosova.

I now face the Adriatic.

Because We Don't Want to Write