The fam came in to Galway on April 19- it was a welcome break from hectic work because we had just finished giving our presentation for our World Area Missions class and we still had another paper for Contemp coming up, plus work was getting rough.
Mom, Dad, Brian, Aunt Carolyn, Uncle Dana, and Lindsay all came in and we went out to Da Roberta's for dinner (yes, I go there far too often ;-) ) The next day, we all had lunch at the cafe and I showed them around Galway- the cathedral, shop st, etc. and finally we headed out to the Cliffs of Moher!
Driving was a fun adventure- following my directions I know from walking places (which means I don't consider one way streets), Mom getting all flustered, Dad giving advice and Brian being... Brian. We made it to the Cliffs in one piece after stopping off in Kinvara where I had ridden my bike to last Monday and saw Dungaire Castle. I hadn't been to the Cliffs in two years and really they looked pretty much the same, but this time I went on the top of the cliffs and peered over the edge- pretty thrilling.
I was able to do the same at the slightly lower but no less stunning cliffs of Dun Aengus on Inis Moor in the Aran Islands on Friday. Dad, Brian and I biked out there and enjoyed the view, but not the hills it took to get there: we're all pretty out of shape since we last did TOSRV, but our bikes were pretty rickety too, so we can't take all the blame. I decided to take everyone to Clifden since cell group was canceled and I got to see that castle that Ben Kelsie and I had missed the first time. We ate dinner in the same place as I had last time and made it back to Galway well after dark where we said goodbye.
It was nice seeing them all and getting a break from work, but I could tell they had all been on vacation together for a while and it was a bit stressful. I'll be glad to be back home where the stress of travel isn't such a factor on everyone.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
A castle on the bay
Six months without bicycling and 37 miles all in one day. That's right, on Monday the 14th, I found a nice sunny (and warm) day to rent a bike and ride to Kinvarra. You can see on that fine map my route around the end of Galway Bay- 18.4 miles each way and let me tell you, I was dying on the last couple of miles.
But it really was a great ride. I had such amazing weather and I was plenty warm. I was such a fool when I left though- not only did I forget normal clothes to wear over my biking jersey, I forgot my map and my camera! Ugh, what a fool. But I didn't get lost and I just wandered around Kinvarra in my awkward clothes and didn't care.
The beginning of the ride was stressful because of all the traffic and people trying to kill me. Apparently riding on the Galway-Limerick Road on a bike is such a grievous crime that it warrants the death penalty- only there are no judges or juries, just lots of little executioners riding their weapons past you as fast as they like. I enjoyed the smaller roads to say the least.
When I got to Kinvarra, I found that I had been to Dungaire Castle already with my previous ISP trip- amusing and frustrating. I chilled in town , eating my lunch and declined to pay 3 euro to climb to the top of the castle, then headed back.
As I was nearing Oranmore (the last town before my home) I was beginning to lose stamina... coming past the Dueling Field up Robber's Hill (where highwaymen would rob traders' wagons coming into Galway in the days of old) I saw why the theives chose the spot because one cannot go up it very fast, let alone after riding 30 some odd miles in my out of shape condition. Fortunately it is the 21st century and there was no ambuscade.
I did actually make it back in only a little longer than I took to go out- 1 hour there, 1 1/2 hours to get back. The guy at the bike shop was impressed I made it that far in that short of time :-) All in all I'd say 37 miles in 2 1/2 hours was not bad for having gone so long without biking and I really enjoyed seeing Ireland from a bike.
The rest of the day was spent recovering, eating pastries with friends and walking miles on the prom- my legs got quite to workout but I was not sore the next day... hooray!
Pictures Maren took of me as I headed out on my rented 21 speed:
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Geneva Part IV
As I told you, I parted well with my roommates with a nice breakfast and thankfulness that God had provided me with such unexpected friends. Little did I know that this theme was still to continue (as it has this entire spring break!)
The English speaking Lutheran church I had scoped out earlier in the week was in the old part of town in a square next to St. Pierre's Cathedral, so I used my free public transit pass to lug myself and my suitcases all the way down the lake shore and into town. I was pleased with how close I was able to get myself by switching trains and buses- it's like I was almost familiar with the system in this city!
I arrived to church early and saw the German speaking service getting out and a nice little old lady approached me and said something in German, then asked me if I knew Jesus in English. I smiled and said, "Yes, in fact I'm about to go to the English service here!" And she tottered off with a smile that looked like she had just saved my soul... hahaha so funny.
I didn't see Marian, but I went to the office she had directed me to and found their music minister there (a man from Michigan) and told him that Marian said I could leave my luggage in their during the service. He helped stow it for me and led me back to the sanctuary where the English speaking members were gathering. It was such a random mix of people! As the lady from Kentucky sitting next to me explained, English is kind of a lingua franca for a lot of peoples and while it's not their first language, a lot of people know it better than they know French or German, so we had piles of Asians, Africans, and even some from South America.
The service was so cool- traditional Lutheran liturgy in form, but all the songs and little segue music things were in various languages as well as English- really random Indonesian toungues and all sorts of stuff. Plus, they went to the tune that the people of that language would have sung it in. You could tell it was a church that was very involved in the world. An African American pastor, Peter E. Matthews, was a guest preacher, and he delivered and excellent sermon that got us all very excited0 you know how they preach with lots of response from the crowd. The Swiss may be white people but they're better at responding to a black preacher than most white Americans (specifically Taylor students).
After the service, they had the classic "gathering and meeting time" but it wasn't just tea and coffee! They had loads of good cakes and amazing cookies and all sorts of stuff. Plus about fifteen people came up and introduced themselves to me (since during the service, visitors stand and tell a little about themselves) everyone was curious about the missions minor in Ireland. I got to talking with a Filipino man name Ernesto Arellano and he introduced me to a lot of people and was just a great guy to talk to. As the morning got on, I realized that they were having a farewell luncheon for one of their elders, an American named Morgan. Not wanting to impose, I headed up to get my luggage when Marian intercepted me and invited me to stay for the luncheon, joking that I could claim I was Morgan's cousin from America. Again, such wonderful hospitality! My afternoon plans included chilling at a cafe in the train station until my boarding time.
We had some fantastic food made by "church ladies" (you know the type- the ones that cook really really well)and Ernesto and I talked with a few more people, including Pastor Matthews who took an interest in what I had to say about the missions program at Taylor and what I was doing in Ireland. He gave me his card with his website and then went on to tell me a little about my new friend Ernesto. It turns out that Ernesto is a successful missionary in the Philippines who started a phenomenal school to educate poor farmers while helping them grow their crop. It's one of the biggest "poor" schools in his country and has grades higher (on national tests) than most government run schools. I had no idea I had been befriended by a famous missionary!
However, our conversation was cut short by the farewell ceremonies for Morgan: people toasted him and all sorts of good things, but the words I most heard were things like, "Morgan you were the first person to greet me here and make me feel so welcome; I'll never forget how nice my first service here was." Morgan also caught onto the trend in the toasts and finally told the people that as he left, he was passing the torch to them and that it was their responsibility to seek out the lonely looking new people and to talk with them and make friends with them. I can personally vouch for the fact that they are already doing that very well. As things wound up, we sang a song for him about picking up our bags and leaving, then about God being in all the new places in all the new faces... something mildly cheesy like that. But it rang so true with me as the theme of my entire spring break. I kept the words to the song, but unfortunately sent them home with souvenirs with my parents so maybe one day I'll come back and edit this post with the song lyrics, but it was really very touching, especially for me in light of the past two weeks of my life.
Edit: my mom found the lyrics for me and emailed them:
My train was coming soon and Ernesto walked me to the train station to say goodbye. The ride to Paris was full of me sleeping and the rest of the travel was just that: travel- tiring, awkward, stressful, and long. I saw the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, ate at a McDonald's on the Champs Elysees (purely for the fact that when someone asks me to go to McDs in the future, I can snobbishly turn them down saying that the last McDs I went to was on the Champs Elysees in Paris and I wouldn't lower myself to anything else.... nah, just kidding but things like that amuse me anyway).
I was thrilled to see Dublin under my airplane wing again (and I took a picture of all of Howth peninsula- funny how those cliffs it took us three hours to hike fit in the tiny camera frame). The bus ride to Galway was long and tedious, but my heart leapt for joy when I saw that green dome of the cathedral in the distance! I knew I was almost home... I struggled with my bags from the bus station to An Tobar Nua, climbed the stairs and collapsed on the floor. I was so glad to be back safe and sound where I speak the language and I know people well, but I was also so thankful for all the ways God provided for me when I was away from all the goodness here.
The English speaking Lutheran church I had scoped out earlier in the week was in the old part of town in a square next to St. Pierre's Cathedral, so I used my free public transit pass to lug myself and my suitcases all the way down the lake shore and into town. I was pleased with how close I was able to get myself by switching trains and buses- it's like I was almost familiar with the system in this city!
I arrived to church early and saw the German speaking service getting out and a nice little old lady approached me and said something in German, then asked me if I knew Jesus in English. I smiled and said, "Yes, in fact I'm about to go to the English service here!" And she tottered off with a smile that looked like she had just saved my soul... hahaha so funny.
I didn't see Marian, but I went to the office she had directed me to and found their music minister there (a man from Michigan) and told him that Marian said I could leave my luggage in their during the service. He helped stow it for me and led me back to the sanctuary where the English speaking members were gathering. It was such a random mix of people! As the lady from Kentucky sitting next to me explained, English is kind of a lingua franca for a lot of peoples and while it's not their first language, a lot of people know it better than they know French or German, so we had piles of Asians, Africans, and even some from South America.
The service was so cool- traditional Lutheran liturgy in form, but all the songs and little segue music things were in various languages as well as English- really random Indonesian toungues and all sorts of stuff. Plus, they went to the tune that the people of that language would have sung it in. You could tell it was a church that was very involved in the world. An African American pastor, Peter E. Matthews, was a guest preacher, and he delivered and excellent sermon that got us all very excited0 you know how they preach with lots of response from the crowd. The Swiss may be white people but they're better at responding to a black preacher than most white Americans (specifically Taylor students).
After the service, they had the classic "gathering and meeting time" but it wasn't just tea and coffee! They had loads of good cakes and amazing cookies and all sorts of stuff. Plus about fifteen people came up and introduced themselves to me (since during the service, visitors stand and tell a little about themselves) everyone was curious about the missions minor in Ireland. I got to talking with a Filipino man name Ernesto Arellano and he introduced me to a lot of people and was just a great guy to talk to. As the morning got on, I realized that they were having a farewell luncheon for one of their elders, an American named Morgan. Not wanting to impose, I headed up to get my luggage when Marian intercepted me and invited me to stay for the luncheon, joking that I could claim I was Morgan's cousin from America. Again, such wonderful hospitality! My afternoon plans included chilling at a cafe in the train station until my boarding time.
We had some fantastic food made by "church ladies" (you know the type- the ones that cook really really well)and Ernesto and I talked with a few more people, including Pastor Matthews who took an interest in what I had to say about the missions program at Taylor and what I was doing in Ireland. He gave me his card with his website and then went on to tell me a little about my new friend Ernesto. It turns out that Ernesto is a successful missionary in the Philippines who started a phenomenal school to educate poor farmers while helping them grow their crop. It's one of the biggest "poor" schools in his country and has grades higher (on national tests) than most government run schools. I had no idea I had been befriended by a famous missionary!
However, our conversation was cut short by the farewell ceremonies for Morgan: people toasted him and all sorts of good things, but the words I most heard were things like, "Morgan you were the first person to greet me here and make me feel so welcome; I'll never forget how nice my first service here was." Morgan also caught onto the trend in the toasts and finally told the people that as he left, he was passing the torch to them and that it was their responsibility to seek out the lonely looking new people and to talk with them and make friends with them. I can personally vouch for the fact that they are already doing that very well. As things wound up, we sang a song for him about picking up our bags and leaving, then about God being in all the new places in all the new faces... something mildly cheesy like that. But it rang so true with me as the theme of my entire spring break. I kept the words to the song, but unfortunately sent them home with souvenirs with my parents so maybe one day I'll come back and edit this post with the song lyrics, but it was really very touching, especially for me in light of the past two weeks of my life.
Edit: my mom found the lyrics for me and emailed them:
When we lift our pack and go,
when we seek another country moving far from all we know,
when we long to journey free:
God is in the other place, God is in another's face,
in the faith we travel by, God is in the other place.
Through the loneliness of night,
through the sky's uncharted spaces not a sparrow falls in flight
but a loving God will care:
God is in the other place, God is in another's face,
in the faith we travel by, God is in the other place.
Sons and daughters must depart,
friends will go on other's journeys, only constant is the heart
that can trust its God to be:
God is in the other place, God is in another's face,
in the faith we travel by, God is in the other place.
In the hands outstretched to greet,
through the open doors of strangers there is love we yet can meet
and believe that Christ is there:
God is in the other place, God is in another's face,
in the faith we travel by, God is in the other place.
My train was coming soon and Ernesto walked me to the train station to say goodbye. The ride to Paris was full of me sleeping and the rest of the travel was just that: travel- tiring, awkward, stressful, and long. I saw the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, ate at a McDonald's on the Champs Elysees (purely for the fact that when someone asks me to go to McDs in the future, I can snobbishly turn them down saying that the last McDs I went to was on the Champs Elysees in Paris and I wouldn't lower myself to anything else.... nah, just kidding but things like that amuse me anyway).
I was thrilled to see Dublin under my airplane wing again (and I took a picture of all of Howth peninsula- funny how those cliffs it took us three hours to hike fit in the tiny camera frame). The bus ride to Galway was long and tedious, but my heart leapt for joy when I saw that green dome of the cathedral in the distance! I knew I was almost home... I struggled with my bags from the bus station to An Tobar Nua, climbed the stairs and collapsed on the floor. I was so glad to be back safe and sound where I speak the language and I know people well, but I was also so thankful for all the ways God provided for me when I was away from all the goodness here.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Geneva Part III
Other things I did on that Friday before I had all the nice chats with my roommates:
I headed across the lake to see the starting of le Jet at 10AM... lots of fun, the guy let this little girl push the button and up it went, the biggest landmark in the city born each morning... such fun. After my lunch, I went up in the towers of St. Pierre's cathedral for a nice view of the city and the lake, then took a bus to the east end of town where the city zoo was. It was really more like a farm yard as you will see in my pictures, but the peacocks were funny and the marmots rocked my socks. The best part of the whole Geneva zoo though was the park nearby... this park is the home of a cousin of the Teeter-Go-Round!!! I was so excited! Except I had no one to ride it with and the little kids were hogging it, but that's okay because this thing was more like a Wobble-Go-Round and didn't seem capable of handling the jokes I wanted to put it through. Here's a nice short video of how it went (my memory card was getting full at this point, that's why its so short.) So yeah, that was all before I went back and talked religion with the roomies as I told you about in the last post. Can't believe I forgot that goodness.
Saturday was my day for hiking and yes, even though there's a part IV to the Geneva experience, I'll give you pictures now because holding out for this long is just cruel. The bus (with my wonderful free ticket from the hostel) took me to the south of town as the dude at the tourist office suggested and from there I walked about five minutes across the border into France (didn't even know I had crossed the first time... one tiny little sign and that's all). Five feet into France, there's this cable car place that sends you up for like 7 euro (heck yes, no more Swiss francs) and I pretty much spent the entire day hiking, chilling, and lounging around on top of le Saleve. Magnificent views of Geneva, I could see all the way to Lausanne, and plenty of the Alps. I fell asleep in a little meadow I found and ended up a bit sunburnt which was a little unexpected. The snow was old and mostly melted but it was still amusing to see. I found one of those lovely double chocolate Magnums- chocolate ice cream surrounded by fudge, then encapsulated by the chocolate shell. Downright glorious.
I wanted to stay there all day until the last cable car down, but I felt like I needed to get back and tie up loose ends from the conversation I had had last night with the roomies. So, I tore myself from the mountain and headed back and arrived at the hostel in time for dinner. Mahdi was of course there because the only two places he went in Geneva were the hostel and the mosque- never saw any other bit of the city. And we were lucky enough to Ejavet and Erga deciding they didn't want hostel food.
At this point, my roommates and other who know me well will laugh: we decided to have a roommate date and all go out to dinner. That's right, even when I'm only roommates for three nights and we barely speak each other's languages, I've gotta instigate a roommate date. I'm such a dork. Of course I didn't call it that in front of them... just the guys having dinner, but I knew Reno would enjoy my awkward terminology. :-)
We had pizza at a little Italian place and chatted for quite a while as we waited on Mahdi to get back from his evening prayers (he never came back after dinner and we ended up leaving without him... kinda made Ejavet mad). For the rest of the night, the Germans and I just strolled around hitting up random places to get drinks- Erga always got a couple German beers, Ejavet an espresso and me however many cokes Ejavet wanted to buy me. They wanted to get rid of their swiss francs so they didn't mind buying me a few. Trouble is, I hate coke, but I didn't want to drink alcohol in front of them and I hate coffee more, so whatever. I had loads of nasty tasting caffeine, but it was all right because Erga drank like seven beers and didn't seem the least bit tispy. He is a beast of a German after all: a big jolly guy. We all got to know each other a lot better and it turns out that Erga built his one room house into a 27 room mansion over the years, while Ejavet is a philosopher with a couple papers published and a book in the works. We talked a lot about things like justice and random things like the likeness between swans and dinosaurs. From there we got onto evolution and such and looking at the stars, marveling at the universe. At this point, I saw another evangelical opportunity and commented that the word universe comes from the Latin for "one truth" pointing toward an absolute reality and a designer, but silly me, I had forgotten that Ejavet was a Muslim who also believes in a Creator God... we agreed on everything and I laughed at myself for trying a move that is supposed to be used on atheists.
After a while, Ejavet grew quieter and moody, leaving Erga and I to talk in his broken in English. He's such an amusing guy though! I wish I could hang out with him more. We talked a bit about Mahdi and how angry Ejavet was with him for being closeminded, impolite and all sorts of stuff, but Erga and I agreed that Mahdi was a good guy at heart, just a confused kid with a crazy love interest and no sense of time. We convinced Ejavet to forgive him before we got back to the hostel.
When we got there, I saw that Mahdi had picked up my book on religious pluralism (that I had for homework). Wondering if he had read anything good, I asked him about it, but he turned at me really mad looking- Apparently the author mentions Muhammed once and I had left the book under my bed (on the floor) which really bothered Mahdi. I apologized and put the book in my bag and he calmed down and laughed and said it wasn't a big deal, but it seems apparent he didn't really read much more out of the book.
The four of us all had breakfast together the next day, Sunday as we all prepared to leave. The Germans were in high spirits (no sign of a hangover at all from Erga despite the huge amounts of alcohol he consumed) and Mahdi was looking up tickets from Libya to "the Russia" to see that girl. We all parted and told each other we were glad to have roomed with good friendly guys instead of creepy thieves or something. It was a great time.
Then I headed to church and later to grab a train to Paris- but that story will wait til next time
Pictures!
I headed across the lake to see the starting of le Jet at 10AM... lots of fun, the guy let this little girl push the button and up it went, the biggest landmark in the city born each morning... such fun. After my lunch, I went up in the towers of St. Pierre's cathedral for a nice view of the city and the lake, then took a bus to the east end of town where the city zoo was. It was really more like a farm yard as you will see in my pictures, but the peacocks were funny and the marmots rocked my socks. The best part of the whole Geneva zoo though was the park nearby... this park is the home of a cousin of the Teeter-Go-Round!!! I was so excited! Except I had no one to ride it with and the little kids were hogging it, but that's okay because this thing was more like a Wobble-Go-Round and didn't seem capable of handling the jokes I wanted to put it through. Here's a nice short video of how it went (my memory card was getting full at this point, that's why its so short.) So yeah, that was all before I went back and talked religion with the roomies as I told you about in the last post. Can't believe I forgot that goodness.
Saturday was my day for hiking and yes, even though there's a part IV to the Geneva experience, I'll give you pictures now because holding out for this long is just cruel. The bus (with my wonderful free ticket from the hostel) took me to the south of town as the dude at the tourist office suggested and from there I walked about five minutes across the border into France (didn't even know I had crossed the first time... one tiny little sign and that's all). Five feet into France, there's this cable car place that sends you up for like 7 euro (heck yes, no more Swiss francs) and I pretty much spent the entire day hiking, chilling, and lounging around on top of le Saleve. Magnificent views of Geneva, I could see all the way to Lausanne, and plenty of the Alps. I fell asleep in a little meadow I found and ended up a bit sunburnt which was a little unexpected. The snow was old and mostly melted but it was still amusing to see. I found one of those lovely double chocolate Magnums- chocolate ice cream surrounded by fudge, then encapsulated by the chocolate shell. Downright glorious.
I wanted to stay there all day until the last cable car down, but I felt like I needed to get back and tie up loose ends from the conversation I had had last night with the roomies. So, I tore myself from the mountain and headed back and arrived at the hostel in time for dinner. Mahdi was of course there because the only two places he went in Geneva were the hostel and the mosque- never saw any other bit of the city. And we were lucky enough to Ejavet and Erga deciding they didn't want hostel food.
At this point, my roommates and other who know me well will laugh: we decided to have a roommate date and all go out to dinner. That's right, even when I'm only roommates for three nights and we barely speak each other's languages, I've gotta instigate a roommate date. I'm such a dork. Of course I didn't call it that in front of them... just the guys having dinner, but I knew Reno would enjoy my awkward terminology. :-)
We had pizza at a little Italian place and chatted for quite a while as we waited on Mahdi to get back from his evening prayers (he never came back after dinner and we ended up leaving without him... kinda made Ejavet mad). For the rest of the night, the Germans and I just strolled around hitting up random places to get drinks- Erga always got a couple German beers, Ejavet an espresso and me however many cokes Ejavet wanted to buy me. They wanted to get rid of their swiss francs so they didn't mind buying me a few. Trouble is, I hate coke, but I didn't want to drink alcohol in front of them and I hate coffee more, so whatever. I had loads of nasty tasting caffeine, but it was all right because Erga drank like seven beers and didn't seem the least bit tispy. He is a beast of a German after all: a big jolly guy. We all got to know each other a lot better and it turns out that Erga built his one room house into a 27 room mansion over the years, while Ejavet is a philosopher with a couple papers published and a book in the works. We talked a lot about things like justice and random things like the likeness between swans and dinosaurs. From there we got onto evolution and such and looking at the stars, marveling at the universe. At this point, I saw another evangelical opportunity and commented that the word universe comes from the Latin for "one truth" pointing toward an absolute reality and a designer, but silly me, I had forgotten that Ejavet was a Muslim who also believes in a Creator God... we agreed on everything and I laughed at myself for trying a move that is supposed to be used on atheists.
After a while, Ejavet grew quieter and moody, leaving Erga and I to talk in his broken in English. He's such an amusing guy though! I wish I could hang out with him more. We talked a bit about Mahdi and how angry Ejavet was with him for being closeminded, impolite and all sorts of stuff, but Erga and I agreed that Mahdi was a good guy at heart, just a confused kid with a crazy love interest and no sense of time. We convinced Ejavet to forgive him before we got back to the hostel.
When we got there, I saw that Mahdi had picked up my book on religious pluralism (that I had for homework). Wondering if he had read anything good, I asked him about it, but he turned at me really mad looking- Apparently the author mentions Muhammed once and I had left the book under my bed (on the floor) which really bothered Mahdi. I apologized and put the book in my bag and he calmed down and laughed and said it wasn't a big deal, but it seems apparent he didn't really read much more out of the book.
The four of us all had breakfast together the next day, Sunday as we all prepared to leave. The Germans were in high spirits (no sign of a hangover at all from Erga despite the huge amounts of alcohol he consumed) and Mahdi was looking up tickets from Libya to "the Russia" to see that girl. We all parted and told each other we were glad to have roomed with good friendly guys instead of creepy thieves or something. It was a great time.
Then I headed to church and later to grab a train to Paris- but that story will wait til next time
Pictures!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Geneva- Part II
Friday was my second full day in Geneva and I spent it hitting up all the sights around town I had missed the first day- I went inside a few of the museums that I actually had to pay for (but had decided they were worth it after sizing up the competition). I found (right by St. Pierre's Cathedral in the old city) and English speaking Evangelical Lutheran Church and I met a nice lady named Marian who told me I could come to church on Sunday with all my luggage and store them in a locked office. Nice to know I had some sort of plan for later days!
I bought some Swiss chocolate, looked at them time on my Swiss watch and wished airplanes were cooler with knives so I could have pulled out my Swiss army knife, but I knew I had it back in Galway. The Swiss do those three things and not much else, but they do them very well.
After ogling the Ferrari and Maserati dealership across the street from an overly symbolic and new-looking Catholic church, I headed back to the hostel for dinner since I knew I could get a balanced meal for cheap since all I had been living on for the past few days was cheese, bread, and PB&J. I met up with my German roommates and we had dinner together- it was really nice. Ejavet was in Geneva to apply for a job with the Red Cross and Erga, his childhood friend was along for "companionness" as they called it. Erga didn't know nearly as much English as Ejavet, so I talked mostly with Ejavet and learned that he was actually Turkish but had lived in Germany since he was an infant. Erga made a few jokes now and then, but he was mostly hard to understand but it was still cool. After dinner, I went to watch a few more chess games then game back for an early bedtime since I knew I planned on hiking the next day.
As I lay in bed, reading my Bible, Mahdi and the Germans came back in and they noticed I was reading a Bible. Mahdi proceeded to tell us about his Muslim prayer rituals (in fact I accidentally walked in on him once- that was embarrassing) and he and Ejavet started to get into some arguments about Islam (Ejavet is a nominal Muslim having been born in Turkey but raised in German Christian culture). Ejavet is very well educated and knew his stuff, but Mahdi definitely practices it all regularly and I could tell the each looked down on each other. Soon enough, Mahdi started talking about Isa in the Injils (Jesus in the Gospels) and wanted me to know that Jesus predicted the coming of Muhammed. Fortunately (the better and more accurate word here is blessedly), I knew exactly what he was referring to, having talked about it in our classes back in Galway. Turning to John 14:16, I read the words of Isa that Mahdi was referring to and he got very excited to hear me "confirming" what he said. But I went on, reading that this Counselor would live in us and I asked him how Muhammed as a human being could live in other people. Mahdi read the words over and over again and got kind of confused and so I tried to tell him that the Counselor could not be a man like Muhammed but a spirit, the Spirit of God. At this point, Ejavet interjected saying that it was wrong to believe that God would live in a person then Mahdi said, "Oh but I think something divine lives in this girl I met... oh how I want to go to the Russia to see her..." and our theological conversation was effectively ended as the other guys started making fun of him. I was excited about the door God had opened though and hoped I had planted some seeds. I prayed that night that God would use me to reach my roommates throughout the trip and that I would be able to follow His lead and not mess things up. Little did I know where that would bring me...
And again, I pause for an intermission for my homework and your attention span. Yes, I know there are no pictures yet: I still have much of the story to tell and I don't want you distracted by the Swiss Alps (oh yes there are Alps, where did you think I'm going hiking?) while I'm trying to tell you all about how God used the situations with my roommates and all the people I met.
I bought some Swiss chocolate, looked at them time on my Swiss watch and wished airplanes were cooler with knives so I could have pulled out my Swiss army knife, but I knew I had it back in Galway. The Swiss do those three things and not much else, but they do them very well.
After ogling the Ferrari and Maserati dealership across the street from an overly symbolic and new-looking Catholic church, I headed back to the hostel for dinner since I knew I could get a balanced meal for cheap since all I had been living on for the past few days was cheese, bread, and PB&J. I met up with my German roommates and we had dinner together- it was really nice. Ejavet was in Geneva to apply for a job with the Red Cross and Erga, his childhood friend was along for "companionness" as they called it. Erga didn't know nearly as much English as Ejavet, so I talked mostly with Ejavet and learned that he was actually Turkish but had lived in Germany since he was an infant. Erga made a few jokes now and then, but he was mostly hard to understand but it was still cool. After dinner, I went to watch a few more chess games then game back for an early bedtime since I knew I planned on hiking the next day.
As I lay in bed, reading my Bible, Mahdi and the Germans came back in and they noticed I was reading a Bible. Mahdi proceeded to tell us about his Muslim prayer rituals (in fact I accidentally walked in on him once- that was embarrassing) and he and Ejavet started to get into some arguments about Islam (Ejavet is a nominal Muslim having been born in Turkey but raised in German Christian culture). Ejavet is very well educated and knew his stuff, but Mahdi definitely practices it all regularly and I could tell the each looked down on each other. Soon enough, Mahdi started talking about Isa in the Injils (Jesus in the Gospels) and wanted me to know that Jesus predicted the coming of Muhammed. Fortunately (the better and more accurate word here is blessedly), I knew exactly what he was referring to, having talked about it in our classes back in Galway. Turning to John 14:16, I read the words of Isa that Mahdi was referring to and he got very excited to hear me "confirming" what he said. But I went on, reading that this Counselor would live in us and I asked him how Muhammed as a human being could live in other people. Mahdi read the words over and over again and got kind of confused and so I tried to tell him that the Counselor could not be a man like Muhammed but a spirit, the Spirit of God. At this point, Ejavet interjected saying that it was wrong to believe that God would live in a person then Mahdi said, "Oh but I think something divine lives in this girl I met... oh how I want to go to the Russia to see her..." and our theological conversation was effectively ended as the other guys started making fun of him. I was excited about the door God had opened though and hoped I had planted some seeds. I prayed that night that God would use me to reach my roommates throughout the trip and that I would be able to follow His lead and not mess things up. Little did I know where that would bring me...
And again, I pause for an intermission for my homework and your attention span. Yes, I know there are no pictures yet: I still have much of the story to tell and I don't want you distracted by the Swiss Alps (oh yes there are Alps, where did you think I'm going hiking?) while I'm trying to tell you all about how God used the situations with my roommates and all the people I met.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Geneva- Part I
Sorry it has taken so long to post this one. I had a big presentation to give, then my parents came and I got behind on my homework again.
I took the TGV from Angers to Lyons for about five hours- it was so fast, but France is pretty big. Lyons was large and confusing, but I found my way to the platform for the train to Geneve and secured my spot on the train. We wound through tall mountains I couldn't even see the tops of and there was this little kid who had just learned how to walk tottering up and down the aisles, nearly falling each time the train turned. We arrived in Geneva after dark and I was glad that I had booked a hotel the day before (as expensive as it was, this was my spring break and if I was gonna spend two nights on the streets, I could afford one night in a nice hotel). I quickly found out that even though my French is passable, if people get confused as to what I am asking, they all speak English anyway. I found my hotel, looked up a hostel, booked the rest of the time there, picked up a city map and a guide book from the tourist office, then settled down for a nice rest in a nice bed.
The next morning (Thursday) I moved out of the hotel and up the lake shore to my hostel. This was my first time seeing Geneva in daylight and it was fantastic. Such a beautiful city! The lake is clear, the air clean, the buildings tall and the weather perfect! The hostel was decent too, with lockers, clean beds and showers as well as included breakfast and a free pass to use Geneva's public transit system. And so I embarked on my spree of tourism. The guide book had lots of interesting places, so I just looked for the nearest ones and worked my way through the city. I saw monuments, museums, statues of Reformers, churches, parks, the Jet d'Eau and all sorts of sweet things.
As I was stopped at the Anglican Church, a man approached me and asked if I spoke English, which of course I do. He told me he was an Iranian professor from Tehran who was a UN refugee stuck in Geneva and he was writing a book and he wanted me to help correct his English grammar and such. At first, I was wondering how to get away from him, but then I realized that I had four days in this city and I was pretty lonely and bored already, so why not? Farad and I sat in the church and went over his papers for the next two hours- some pretty feisty stuff about Bush, then some anecdotes one about how far people will go to still have someone to talk to... I thought it was appropriate. It was nice to talk with someone for that long even if most of the conversation was confused and scattered.
The pictures will speak for themselves for the things I saw, but one of my favorite places was Parc des Bastions (where the Reformation Wall is) and where there are huge life size chess boards and pieces and bunches of old Swiss men huddling around, playing or watching the games, trash talking in French and making fun of each other. It was really amusing and I ended up watching lots of games and coming back for more.
That night, I settled back into the hostel after a long day of walking all over the city and learning my way around the tram and bus system. I met my roommates- Mahdi, a Lybian who had just met the girl of his dreams apparently because he couldn't stop talking about her and how he wanted to go visit "the Russia" where she lives. Later, Ejavet and Erga two Germans came in and settled down. There were a couple others (an awkwardly loud American and two students from Hong Kong who were studying in Britain) but the first three were ones I got to know later.
A lot happened in the next few days, so I'll break up the story for my homework's and your attention span's sake.
I took the TGV from Angers to Lyons for about five hours- it was so fast, but France is pretty big. Lyons was large and confusing, but I found my way to the platform for the train to Geneve and secured my spot on the train. We wound through tall mountains I couldn't even see the tops of and there was this little kid who had just learned how to walk tottering up and down the aisles, nearly falling each time the train turned. We arrived in Geneva after dark and I was glad that I had booked a hotel the day before (as expensive as it was, this was my spring break and if I was gonna spend two nights on the streets, I could afford one night in a nice hotel). I quickly found out that even though my French is passable, if people get confused as to what I am asking, they all speak English anyway. I found my hotel, looked up a hostel, booked the rest of the time there, picked up a city map and a guide book from the tourist office, then settled down for a nice rest in a nice bed.
The next morning (Thursday) I moved out of the hotel and up the lake shore to my hostel. This was my first time seeing Geneva in daylight and it was fantastic. Such a beautiful city! The lake is clear, the air clean, the buildings tall and the weather perfect! The hostel was decent too, with lockers, clean beds and showers as well as included breakfast and a free pass to use Geneva's public transit system. And so I embarked on my spree of tourism. The guide book had lots of interesting places, so I just looked for the nearest ones and worked my way through the city. I saw monuments, museums, statues of Reformers, churches, parks, the Jet d'Eau and all sorts of sweet things.
As I was stopped at the Anglican Church, a man approached me and asked if I spoke English, which of course I do. He told me he was an Iranian professor from Tehran who was a UN refugee stuck in Geneva and he was writing a book and he wanted me to help correct his English grammar and such. At first, I was wondering how to get away from him, but then I realized that I had four days in this city and I was pretty lonely and bored already, so why not? Farad and I sat in the church and went over his papers for the next two hours- some pretty feisty stuff about Bush, then some anecdotes one about how far people will go to still have someone to talk to... I thought it was appropriate. It was nice to talk with someone for that long even if most of the conversation was confused and scattered.
The pictures will speak for themselves for the things I saw, but one of my favorite places was Parc des Bastions (where the Reformation Wall is) and where there are huge life size chess boards and pieces and bunches of old Swiss men huddling around, playing or watching the games, trash talking in French and making fun of each other. It was really amusing and I ended up watching lots of games and coming back for more.
That night, I settled back into the hostel after a long day of walking all over the city and learning my way around the tram and bus system. I met my roommates- Mahdi, a Lybian who had just met the girl of his dreams apparently because he couldn't stop talking about her and how he wanted to go visit "the Russia" where she lives. Later, Ejavet and Erga two Germans came in and settled down. There were a couple others (an awkwardly loud American and two students from Hong Kong who were studying in Britain) but the first three were ones I got to know later.
A lot happened in the next few days, so I'll break up the story for my homework's and your attention span's sake.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Angers
We had a very nice evening train ride from Caen to Angers filled with good conversation and looking out the window at France all the while Devon being more confused that I was about where she was. We past some church and she thought it was the Norman coastal town of Mont St. Michel- we were so far from there... oh Devo.
We were picked up in the Angers train station by Devon's French boyfriend, Pierre-Charles who thankfully does speak English. He drove us to his flat for dinner where we had some pizza and rice au lait from his parents' dairy farm in Bretagne. He also gave us some fresh milk which was so rich and fantastic and amazing. Being a long day, we retired to Devon's apartment and fell asleep.
The next day (Tuesday the 25th) was a glorious day of touring through Angers with Devon showing me all the famous places and her favorite spots. We saw cathedrals and old streets, her favorite parks and places to run (with beautiful spring flowers in bloom) and she took me to this cozy little restaurant that was very fancy and snobbish looking, but the prices were quite decent and we had a three course glorious French meal complete with all the things French do like bread and cheese, and the very best chocolate mousse I had ever tasted. After that we went to le Chateau d'Angers (it amuses me how the French "of Angers" looks like "dangers"!) where we toured around and saw good views of the city, tapestries depicting Revelation, and found a sweet echo spot inside of a tower where you could hear your voice as if you were miked and we sang Come Thou Fount. It was awesome.
We made ourselves a nice dinner of fresh bread and fine cheese for dinner that night along with some spaghetti and zucchini I cooked. We also happened to roll by the train station to see if I could get to Rome for the next few days to finish out my vacation, but the lady said there were no tickets and offered other (more expensive ways) to get to Rome. We told her that I didn't need to get to Rome, just somewhere nice and for cheap, so she looked and some decent tickets to Geneva popped up! Ok, so I'm going to Geneva... that's why that night as well as the next morning I spent lots of time learning about this city and looking for places to stay. My tickets were for 1PM so I mostly chilled on Wednesday morning and headed out that afternoon for a looong train ride across pretty much all of France.
Pictures:
We were picked up in the Angers train station by Devon's French boyfriend, Pierre-Charles who thankfully does speak English. He drove us to his flat for dinner where we had some pizza and rice au lait from his parents' dairy farm in Bretagne. He also gave us some fresh milk which was so rich and fantastic and amazing. Being a long day, we retired to Devon's apartment and fell asleep.
The next day (Tuesday the 25th) was a glorious day of touring through Angers with Devon showing me all the famous places and her favorite spots. We saw cathedrals and old streets, her favorite parks and places to run (with beautiful spring flowers in bloom) and she took me to this cozy little restaurant that was very fancy and snobbish looking, but the prices were quite decent and we had a three course glorious French meal complete with all the things French do like bread and cheese, and the very best chocolate mousse I had ever tasted. After that we went to le Chateau d'Angers (it amuses me how the French "of Angers" looks like "dangers"!) where we toured around and saw good views of the city, tapestries depicting Revelation, and found a sweet echo spot inside of a tower where you could hear your voice as if you were miked and we sang Come Thou Fount. It was awesome.
We made ourselves a nice dinner of fresh bread and fine cheese for dinner that night along with some spaghetti and zucchini I cooked. We also happened to roll by the train station to see if I could get to Rome for the next few days to finish out my vacation, but the lady said there were no tickets and offered other (more expensive ways) to get to Rome. We told her that I didn't need to get to Rome, just somewhere nice and for cheap, so she looked and some decent tickets to Geneva popped up! Ok, so I'm going to Geneva... that's why that night as well as the next morning I spent lots of time learning about this city and looking for places to stay. My tickets were for 1PM so I mostly chilled on Wednesday morning and headed out that afternoon for a looong train ride across pretty much all of France.
Pictures:
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Caen and Normandy
The train ride from Paris to Caen in Normandy was sweet because it was my first time on a TGV and they are pretty dang fast. The only trouble is I was a bit sick and really didn't feel like reading aloud parts of the Easter story like Devon wanted to. I felt bad about it, but my nasal cavties were feeling worse. We arrived in Caen and were picked up by Romain, a guy we had never met before whom Devon had arranged things with through a website called CouchSurfing. It sounds shady I know, but after looking into the website, it seems very legit and after our experience with Romain and I can tell you it is.
Romain didn't speak any English, so it was mostly up to Devon to talk and I said a few phrases. I could understand most of it, but had a hard time formulating my thoughts into a French sentence. He was such an energetic and exited young fellow who really seemed to enjoy showing us around Caen and it's chateau before dropping us off at the DDay Memorial museum. We spent most of the afternoon there going through exhibits and seeing little films, but we found that the bus service that runs from Caen to the invasion beaches were not running because it was Easter weekend. We left the memorial wondering how we would reach our ultimate goal, but tried to spend the evening enjoyed our time at Romain's little apartment. His girlfriend knew less English, but we got to know another couple who was staying with him- friend from when they used to live on a little island off of Madagascar. That had a little two year old son named Joharey who had an ear infection and despite crying now and then was a very happy and explorative little guy. Devon played some songs for them and we chatted a lot (or rather they chatted and I listened). It was a very fun evening and looking back, I don't remember it being in a different language- I still feel like I got to know them without that barrier.
The next morning we worried about how we might get to the beaches and so we mentioned our problem to Romain who promptly offered to drive us the 45 minutes to Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. I could not believe the generosity! Not only had this man picked us up from the train station, drove us all over Caen, fed us dinner, took us in for the night, fed us breakfast and lunch, he drove us all the way to the beaches an back! What a guy! He didn't even expect a cent in payment, but we insisted on paying for the gas for the long drive.
The beach and the cemetery were very moving for me. Even the drive to the beach looked familiar from pictures and stories I have read. I've done a lot of study on Operation Overlord and this has been my one travel goal ever since... forever. It was so exciting to look out on the very sea that was once filled with the largest invasion fleet in the history of the world (even up til now), to stand on the beach whose waves were once red with blood, to look up on the bluffs that once hid thousands of Germans in Rommel's Atlantic Wall. I took a few rocks from Omaha Beach- a black heart shaped one, a red heart, and two other random reddish ones. The cemetery was the best though. I though a lot on this quote from the end of Ernie Pyle's book "Brave Men"
I took lots of pictures at the cemetery and even got one of the American flag with the sun behind it just like in the beginning of Saving Private Ryan. That one and the ones with the cross with the rose are my favorite pictures.
I was glad I was finally able to make it to the DDay beaches and I really enjoyed being able to tell the history to Devon and the others. We drove straight from the beaches to the Caen train station where we emabarked on the next part of our adventure- Devon's little town of Angers in the Loire Valley.
Pictures:
Romain didn't speak any English, so it was mostly up to Devon to talk and I said a few phrases. I could understand most of it, but had a hard time formulating my thoughts into a French sentence. He was such an energetic and exited young fellow who really seemed to enjoy showing us around Caen and it's chateau before dropping us off at the DDay Memorial museum. We spent most of the afternoon there going through exhibits and seeing little films, but we found that the bus service that runs from Caen to the invasion beaches were not running because it was Easter weekend. We left the memorial wondering how we would reach our ultimate goal, but tried to spend the evening enjoyed our time at Romain's little apartment. His girlfriend knew less English, but we got to know another couple who was staying with him- friend from when they used to live on a little island off of Madagascar. That had a little two year old son named Joharey who had an ear infection and despite crying now and then was a very happy and explorative little guy. Devon played some songs for them and we chatted a lot (or rather they chatted and I listened). It was a very fun evening and looking back, I don't remember it being in a different language- I still feel like I got to know them without that barrier.
The next morning we worried about how we might get to the beaches and so we mentioned our problem to Romain who promptly offered to drive us the 45 minutes to Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. I could not believe the generosity! Not only had this man picked us up from the train station, drove us all over Caen, fed us dinner, took us in for the night, fed us breakfast and lunch, he drove us all the way to the beaches an back! What a guy! He didn't even expect a cent in payment, but we insisted on paying for the gas for the long drive.
The beach and the cemetery were very moving for me. Even the drive to the beach looked familiar from pictures and stories I have read. I've done a lot of study on Operation Overlord and this has been my one travel goal ever since... forever. It was so exciting to look out on the very sea that was once filled with the largest invasion fleet in the history of the world (even up til now), to stand on the beach whose waves were once red with blood, to look up on the bluffs that once hid thousands of Germans in Rommel's Atlantic Wall. I took a few rocks from Omaha Beach- a black heart shaped one, a red heart, and two other random reddish ones. The cemetery was the best though. I though a lot on this quote from the end of Ernie Pyle's book "Brave Men"
When we come across the dead men who gave everything for their buddies and for everyone back home, all we can do is pause and murmur quietly, "Thanks, buddy".
I took lots of pictures at the cemetery and even got one of the American flag with the sun behind it just like in the beginning of Saving Private Ryan. That one and the ones with the cross with the rose are my favorite pictures.
I was glad I was finally able to make it to the DDay beaches and I really enjoyed being able to tell the history to Devon and the others. We drove straight from the beaches to the Caen train station where we emabarked on the next part of our adventure- Devon's little town of Angers in the Loire Valley.
Pictures:
Monday, April 7, 2008
Paris- the real deal
In my effort to make the last post a nice, concise, and unboring rundown of the events I totally forgot ALL the stuff I wanted to say about the things that happened there and all the things I have been excited to share since I got back. Man, am I a fool. So now that you have that handy little overview of events, you can place these thoughts in with that timeline. :-)
The whole day of leaving Greystones was rather sad- I love that town and had been delighted to return (fulfilling a vow I made in the early hours of November 21, 2005). I was also sad because I was leaving my friends with whom I had been through this whole adventure. I was excited to see Devon, but I wish I had known I wasn't gonna see Ben again when I left the room that morning because we never said a proper goodbye, but it was nice of Kelsie to walk me to the DART station.
I was terrified of trying to find my way places using the French language. Sure I can memorize the Beatitudes in French and rattle them off with a nice accent, but landing at some airport in the middle of the night, finding a bus to one of the biggest cities on the continent, then spending the night who knows where? From leaving the DART station in Greystones at 3PM on Friday to finding Devon in Gare Montparnasse at noon the next day, I was mostly lonely and afraid.
But! God was watching over me in a way that was so profoundly evident I would have had to have been in an unconscious state to not recognize it. First, I got straight from Greystones to Pizza Pino in random street number 80 billion in Paris without a single hitch. I wanted to take credit as an expert traveler and decipherer of foreign language signs, but I knew I was too tired and confused for that to be true. Not only that, but God gave me the grace to sleep at time in places I shouldn't have without getting caught. I was given a nice little seat in the pizza place facing away from everyone so I could pull out a book and studiously lean over it which so happened to be a mildly comfortable sleeping position. Random times, I felt the need to open my eyes, smile and look around. Every one of those "random" times, my waiter was just on his way over to check on me. The same thing happened with the police when I was napping in the bus stop: I got up and was rummaging through my suitcase rather than huddled in a corner with a blanket an pillow looking like quite the vagrant. And of course again in the cafe the next morning, I was woken by an unexplainable thing during my little naps to grin up at the barrista who had just then decided to glance at me.
If God's hand wasn't evident enough in the amazing and unexpected hospitality of my new friends Melissa and Philippe, you might have to check your level of awareness and see if you're conscious!
And finally, the grace to have such and amazing, accommodating, wise, understanding, fun, and amusing friend as Devon Graves studying in France, to come to Paris to visit with me and show me around, introduce me to our hosts, not to mention give me the infallible directions that got me to Pizza Pino the night before as well as plan out our French adventure in Caen and Angers for the next few days... this sentence has become too long and I don't know how to end it. But God is amazing to give me a friend like Devon and put us both in that situation!
All in all, I did a terrible job planning this excursion and it should have been the biggest disaster of my life- I mean like dead in a gutter disaster.* But God through Devon, our hosts, and His hand working in so many ways turned it not only into a survival in a big city, but a fantastic touristy trek though Paris!
* Call this poetic license of exagerration: I remind you, I was never in any real danger of my life- pickpockets maybe, but nothing life or death!
The whole day of leaving Greystones was rather sad- I love that town and had been delighted to return (fulfilling a vow I made in the early hours of November 21, 2005). I was also sad because I was leaving my friends with whom I had been through this whole adventure. I was excited to see Devon, but I wish I had known I wasn't gonna see Ben again when I left the room that morning because we never said a proper goodbye, but it was nice of Kelsie to walk me to the DART station.
I was terrified of trying to find my way places using the French language. Sure I can memorize the Beatitudes in French and rattle them off with a nice accent, but landing at some airport in the middle of the night, finding a bus to one of the biggest cities on the continent, then spending the night who knows where? From leaving the DART station in Greystones at 3PM on Friday to finding Devon in Gare Montparnasse at noon the next day, I was mostly lonely and afraid.
But! God was watching over me in a way that was so profoundly evident I would have had to have been in an unconscious state to not recognize it. First, I got straight from Greystones to Pizza Pino in random street number 80 billion in Paris without a single hitch. I wanted to take credit as an expert traveler and decipherer of foreign language signs, but I knew I was too tired and confused for that to be true. Not only that, but God gave me the grace to sleep at time in places I shouldn't have without getting caught. I was given a nice little seat in the pizza place facing away from everyone so I could pull out a book and studiously lean over it which so happened to be a mildly comfortable sleeping position. Random times, I felt the need to open my eyes, smile and look around. Every one of those "random" times, my waiter was just on his way over to check on me. The same thing happened with the police when I was napping in the bus stop: I got up and was rummaging through my suitcase rather than huddled in a corner with a blanket an pillow looking like quite the vagrant. And of course again in the cafe the next morning, I was woken by an unexplainable thing during my little naps to grin up at the barrista who had just then decided to glance at me.
If God's hand wasn't evident enough in the amazing and unexpected hospitality of my new friends Melissa and Philippe, you might have to check your level of awareness and see if you're conscious!
And finally, the grace to have such and amazing, accommodating, wise, understanding, fun, and amusing friend as Devon Graves studying in France, to come to Paris to visit with me and show me around, introduce me to our hosts, not to mention give me the infallible directions that got me to Pizza Pino the night before as well as plan out our French adventure in Caen and Angers for the next few days... this sentence has become too long and I don't know how to end it. But God is amazing to give me a friend like Devon and put us both in that situation!
All in all, I did a terrible job planning this excursion and it should have been the biggest disaster of my life- I mean like dead in a gutter disaster.* But God through Devon, our hosts, and His hand working in so many ways turned it not only into a survival in a big city, but a fantastic touristy trek though Paris!
* Call this poetic license of exagerration: I remind you, I was never in any real danger of my life- pickpockets maybe, but nothing life or death!
Paris
Traveling alone is rough. I understood a surprising amount of French as we got off the plane and fought like mad for a spot on a bus into the city. I got it so late that I never really booked a place to stay and just planned to meet Devon in the morning. She had told me of this pizza place that was open late, so I found my way there fairly easily and spent the wee hours of the morning slowly devouring a pizza with an egg on it. They kicked me out at 5AM when the closed and I napped in a bus stop until the metro opened and rode it around for a couple hours until a little cafe was open where I spent the rest of the morning. So yes, I didn't tell my parents or anyone else who would worry that I spent a night on the streets of Paris. Kind of. No, for you worrisome types out there, I'm sure I was never in any danger, it was just uncomfortable.
After some confusion in the train station, Devon and I finally met up, stowed out luggage, then headed out to see the city! Devon was such an amazing tour guide and I saw all the good stuff and none of the lame stuff in like five hours. It was exhausting, but I had some amazing gellato, got my picture taken in front of like forty thousand famous places, listened to her play the piano for a crowd in a bookshop, and realized I was incredibly tired and kinda smelly.
We had plans for dinner with some of Devo's friends in Paris: Melissa and Philippe. They had met in America while Philippe was studying abroad there and Melissa had come to France and they were now engaged and it was also Philippe's birthday! This meant a phenomenal meal in which I actually ate asparagus and enjoyed is (don't tell anyone, they might get ideas). Philippe also happens to be a high class French wine connoisseur, so being his birthday, he broke out some of the really nice stuff and tried to teach us a lot about fine wine tasting. It was a phenomenal experience. They ended up very generously offering to let us stay the night, so Devon canceled our other lodging plans and we settled down in their little Parisian flat. I was amazed by how much I had seen and done in one day, how much sleep I was lacking, and how incredibly wonderful our hosts were, though I had just met them.
Easter morning dawned in Paris and Melissa gave us American candy (Reese's Cups to be precise) for our Easter baskets! By this point my thankfulness for their hospitality was almost overflowing until they gave us bus tickets to get to the train station so we could make it to Caen that day. Paris and the sights were nice, but I will never forget such amazing and unexpected friends as Melissa and Philippe.
On our train ride to Caen, Devon and I got to do a bit of an Easter Sunday Bible study (since we hadn't had time to go to Easter Mass at Notre Dame like we wanted to), and we arrived in Caen sometime after lunch.
That story will wait for another time of me procrastinating from my homework, but for now, here are the pictures of Paris:
After some confusion in the train station, Devon and I finally met up, stowed out luggage, then headed out to see the city! Devon was such an amazing tour guide and I saw all the good stuff and none of the lame stuff in like five hours. It was exhausting, but I had some amazing gellato, got my picture taken in front of like forty thousand famous places, listened to her play the piano for a crowd in a bookshop, and realized I was incredibly tired and kinda smelly.
We had plans for dinner with some of Devo's friends in Paris: Melissa and Philippe. They had met in America while Philippe was studying abroad there and Melissa had come to France and they were now engaged and it was also Philippe's birthday! This meant a phenomenal meal in which I actually ate asparagus and enjoyed is (don't tell anyone, they might get ideas). Philippe also happens to be a high class French wine connoisseur, so being his birthday, he broke out some of the really nice stuff and tried to teach us a lot about fine wine tasting. It was a phenomenal experience. They ended up very generously offering to let us stay the night, so Devon canceled our other lodging plans and we settled down in their little Parisian flat. I was amazed by how much I had seen and done in one day, how much sleep I was lacking, and how incredibly wonderful our hosts were, though I had just met them.
Easter morning dawned in Paris and Melissa gave us American candy (Reese's Cups to be precise) for our Easter baskets! By this point my thankfulness for their hospitality was almost overflowing until they gave us bus tickets to get to the train station so we could make it to Caen that day. Paris and the sights were nice, but I will never forget such amazing and unexpected friends as Melissa and Philippe.
On our train ride to Caen, Devon and I got to do a bit of an Easter Sunday Bible study (since we hadn't had time to go to Easter Mass at Notre Dame like we wanted to), and we arrived in Caen sometime after lunch.
That story will wait for another time of me procrastinating from my homework, but for now, here are the pictures of Paris:
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The first week of break- the Dublin experience
Even though I still have lots to do I need some way to procrastinate, so you're getting the first installment of the spring break updates.
Our first week (March 16-21) was spent living in Greystones near the rest of the TU students. We nearly missed the bus from Galway, got stuck in the Bray DART station like usual, but Ben and I were too elated to return to our old home to care much. We were staying not at the YWCA with the rest of the group, but at a small theological college called Carraig Eden. It was really rather like a hostel situation and Ben and I shared a room that had four beds, community showers down the hall. It was so great to sit on the rocks above the waves again and climb down to the beach like I always used to. That night Kelsie and her roommate went out to dinner, so Ben and I headed to the Y to introduce ourselves to the TU crowd and have dinner with them. We got to chat with a number of people we had kind of known from back on campus and it was really nice to chat with other people from our school. Ben and I went out later that night and even bought Tesco 2 litre colas for defenestration, but the guys didn't seem too into it. The Man House had been all refurbished and lacked it's wonderful smell and character, but it was still my old home. The rock doorstops that we named two years ago were still there!
Monday was St. Patrick's Day and so we accompanied the group into Dublin for Mass at the Dublin Pro-Cathedral and the parade, but not before I accidentally got drenched by a wave that literally rose more than fifteen feet from the sea to hit me. I think God was messing with me or something because it was totally impossible for any wave in those conditions to reach me as near to the road as I was. Aaanyway... Dublin was SO jam packed for the parade. As Megan told me later "I wouldn't wish Dublin on Paddy's Day on anyone"... yet we went by choice. The parade was so weird and fantastical with loads of awkward costumes. I didn't even upload most of the pictures; it just wasn't worth it. But! Afterwards, we had a choice of going to a Gaelic Athletic games day in Croke Park or dancing. Kelsie went off with some girls for dancing while Ben and I headed off for some hurling and Gaelic football. Some sweet games and solid pics. Being a separate group from the ISP, we took the liberty of leaving early to go to dinner in Temple Bar, but we had to meet up with Kelsie who by this point was all alone and trying to find us in an unfamiliar city. Poor kid, she did well finding the Millennium Spire, but we're probably not gonna leave her alone much more. We had dinner with a couple girls who had a mutual friend with Ben, then headed back to Bray to explore to Promenade, then back to Greystones to chill at the Y.
Tuesday, we spent the morning hanging out with people at the Y and then in the afternoon, headed off with the group to Glendalough. It was great to return there also, but it's so much prettier in August when I first saw it. Again we split off from the group and did our own little hike, meeting up at the picturesque tree with the huge swooping branch so Kelsie and her roommate could take pictures of each other in front of the lake.
On Wednesday, the ISPers had to go to Irish Lit class with Beulah Baker... not wanting any part of that we fulfilled our duty to Vance and pretty much finished off Kelsie's Irish history class by giving her the grand tour of historical sites in Dublin. We took the Hop on/Hop off bus and saw Trinity College, the Book of Kells, Dublin Castle (which I had never been to before), Christ Church and St. Patrick's Cathedral, as well as Kilmainham Gaol (where we had the same fantastic tour guide I had had two years ago. We had dinner at Flanagan's on O'Connell street which shows up in the Tom Clancy book and movie Patriot Games... this wa sonly after our attempt to eat at the pub in which Patrick Pearse surrendered at the end of the Easter Rising was foiled. Coming back, we stopped off in Bray again and spent the rest of the night chilling at the Y.
Once again on Thursday, the ISPers weere in class, so we went on our hiking expedition. Walking through Greystones harbor reminded me of Sam and Frodo returning to the industrialized Shire... "This is worse than Mordor, Mr. Frodo... This is Mordor, Sam." It was sad, but it afforded us the opportunity to meet Liam the Wise Construction Worker. Just a random working man, hauling cement in a wheelbarrow, stopped us and just drenched us in little pearls of wisdom! Such a delightful man! I hope he does that to a lot of people because I feel like there are a lot of people who needed to hear the kind of stuff he had to say more than we did. Appreciate what you've got- your two legs to hike, the weather, your friends. Don't be greedy for more, it'll never satisfy. Friends are the most important thing you've got, never let go. And the like. So we had a bit of beauty before we reached the stunning view of Bray Head and the Cross over Bray and the descent into the town. From there we picked up the DART headed north because Ben had to go to Dublin Airport to pick up Lauren and Kelsie and I went to to hike to cliff walk on Howth Peninsula. On the way there, we found that we had our whole DART car to ourselves and like little kids, we ran around gleefully because there was no one there to look down on us for being foolish. It was great. I had hiked part of the cliffwalk once before with Ben, Kim, Kristin, and Kiira, but we did the Sutton half and missed the incredible cliffs on the far side of the peninsula. It was an exhausting hike, with a good bit of windblown mist in our faces in the latter half, but we made it and barely made it back to Greystones in time to meet Ben and Lauren at the Hungry Monk for our dinner. I had always wanted to go to this ridiculously nice restaurant but it's just out of my price range, so this spring break was my time to splurge. I had the most incredible and tender fall-off-the-bone Wicklow Mountain Lamb. Best way to end a long day of hiking. i was content.
In Friday, I mostly spent the day preparing to go to France that evening. I got my hair cut in anticipation of the lack of showers, I did my laundry, packed, ate lots of food at the Y and sat around reading. I caught my DART to Dublin around three, had a fun time finding the AirLink buses, realized I had to pay extra to bring my checked luggage (stupid RyanAir) and eventually was on my way to Paris that night.
Here are the pics- You can restart the slideshow or just click on the Picasa icon to go straight to the album and preview the pics at your leisure.
Our first week (March 16-21) was spent living in Greystones near the rest of the TU students. We nearly missed the bus from Galway, got stuck in the Bray DART station like usual, but Ben and I were too elated to return to our old home to care much. We were staying not at the YWCA with the rest of the group, but at a small theological college called Carraig Eden. It was really rather like a hostel situation and Ben and I shared a room that had four beds, community showers down the hall. It was so great to sit on the rocks above the waves again and climb down to the beach like I always used to. That night Kelsie and her roommate went out to dinner, so Ben and I headed to the Y to introduce ourselves to the TU crowd and have dinner with them. We got to chat with a number of people we had kind of known from back on campus and it was really nice to chat with other people from our school. Ben and I went out later that night and even bought Tesco 2 litre colas for defenestration, but the guys didn't seem too into it. The Man House had been all refurbished and lacked it's wonderful smell and character, but it was still my old home. The rock doorstops that we named two years ago were still there!
Monday was St. Patrick's Day and so we accompanied the group into Dublin for Mass at the Dublin Pro-Cathedral and the parade, but not before I accidentally got drenched by a wave that literally rose more than fifteen feet from the sea to hit me. I think God was messing with me or something because it was totally impossible for any wave in those conditions to reach me as near to the road as I was. Aaanyway... Dublin was SO jam packed for the parade. As Megan told me later "I wouldn't wish Dublin on Paddy's Day on anyone"... yet we went by choice. The parade was so weird and fantastical with loads of awkward costumes. I didn't even upload most of the pictures; it just wasn't worth it. But! Afterwards, we had a choice of going to a Gaelic Athletic games day in Croke Park or dancing. Kelsie went off with some girls for dancing while Ben and I headed off for some hurling and Gaelic football. Some sweet games and solid pics. Being a separate group from the ISP, we took the liberty of leaving early to go to dinner in Temple Bar, but we had to meet up with Kelsie who by this point was all alone and trying to find us in an unfamiliar city. Poor kid, she did well finding the Millennium Spire, but we're probably not gonna leave her alone much more. We had dinner with a couple girls who had a mutual friend with Ben, then headed back to Bray to explore to Promenade, then back to Greystones to chill at the Y.
Tuesday, we spent the morning hanging out with people at the Y and then in the afternoon, headed off with the group to Glendalough. It was great to return there also, but it's so much prettier in August when I first saw it. Again we split off from the group and did our own little hike, meeting up at the picturesque tree with the huge swooping branch so Kelsie and her roommate could take pictures of each other in front of the lake.
On Wednesday, the ISPers had to go to Irish Lit class with Beulah Baker... not wanting any part of that we fulfilled our duty to Vance and pretty much finished off Kelsie's Irish history class by giving her the grand tour of historical sites in Dublin. We took the Hop on/Hop off bus and saw Trinity College, the Book of Kells, Dublin Castle (which I had never been to before), Christ Church and St. Patrick's Cathedral, as well as Kilmainham Gaol (where we had the same fantastic tour guide I had had two years ago. We had dinner at Flanagan's on O'Connell street which shows up in the Tom Clancy book and movie Patriot Games... this wa sonly after our attempt to eat at the pub in which Patrick Pearse surrendered at the end of the Easter Rising was foiled. Coming back, we stopped off in Bray again and spent the rest of the night chilling at the Y.
Once again on Thursday, the ISPers weere in class, so we went on our hiking expedition. Walking through Greystones harbor reminded me of Sam and Frodo returning to the industrialized Shire... "This is worse than Mordor, Mr. Frodo... This is Mordor, Sam." It was sad, but it afforded us the opportunity to meet Liam the Wise Construction Worker. Just a random working man, hauling cement in a wheelbarrow, stopped us and just drenched us in little pearls of wisdom! Such a delightful man! I hope he does that to a lot of people because I feel like there are a lot of people who needed to hear the kind of stuff he had to say more than we did. Appreciate what you've got- your two legs to hike, the weather, your friends. Don't be greedy for more, it'll never satisfy. Friends are the most important thing you've got, never let go. And the like. So we had a bit of beauty before we reached the stunning view of Bray Head and the Cross over Bray and the descent into the town. From there we picked up the DART headed north because Ben had to go to Dublin Airport to pick up Lauren and Kelsie and I went to to hike to cliff walk on Howth Peninsula. On the way there, we found that we had our whole DART car to ourselves and like little kids, we ran around gleefully because there was no one there to look down on us for being foolish. It was great. I had hiked part of the cliffwalk once before with Ben, Kim, Kristin, and Kiira, but we did the Sutton half and missed the incredible cliffs on the far side of the peninsula. It was an exhausting hike, with a good bit of windblown mist in our faces in the latter half, but we made it and barely made it back to Greystones in time to meet Ben and Lauren at the Hungry Monk for our dinner. I had always wanted to go to this ridiculously nice restaurant but it's just out of my price range, so this spring break was my time to splurge. I had the most incredible and tender fall-off-the-bone Wicklow Mountain Lamb. Best way to end a long day of hiking. i was content.
In Friday, I mostly spent the day preparing to go to France that evening. I got my hair cut in anticipation of the lack of showers, I did my laundry, packed, ate lots of food at the Y and sat around reading. I caught my DART to Dublin around three, had a fun time finding the AirLink buses, realized I had to pay extra to bring my checked luggage (stupid RyanAir) and eventually was on my way to Paris that night.
Here are the pics- You can restart the slideshow or just click on the Picasa icon to go straight to the album and preview the pics at your leisure.
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