on the run

I promise promise promise that I will eventually update with lots of travel stories and pics. I don't want to ruin the highlights though, with out proper illustration. So once I get to a computer with internet and all of mine and Elayna's pics on it, I don't won't to spoil the coolness. Suffice it to say, we've covered Italy, became citizens of the State of Exit in Serbia, surfed our way through the couches of Croatia, and now we are exploring Bosnia. Tomorrow night we head back to the great Bulgarian wilderness. I'm so happy to be headed back that way. Although I don't plan on getting much rest anytime soon, I will be glad to get back to someplace I kind of know.

Next on the agenda: Bulgaria: Super throw down party for Kaka Yulia's birthday; whirlwind rental car tour of western Bulgaria, settle down for a month of serious studying to become a certified English teacher (by Cambridge Uni, thankyouverymuch).

That's all for now. XOXO from Sarajevo!!

ciao bella!

sorry, no pics here, but this is to let you kids know that the sister and i are safe and sound in italy. well, kinda... this internet club is a bit sketch, and our hotel room looks a bit like a hospital room. but the sheets are clean and the water is warm. and italy is as beautiful as every. today we went to Verona (the home of Romeo and Juliet) and are now in Milano, the home of one of the worlds most beautiful cathederals. pics later...

no good stories to tell yet. pics will follow later...

revalation

There is a myth that Bulgarian adults look down on silliness in adults.

After an intense testing period, I have discovered this is generally not the truth.

Testing went as followed:
Three plastic water guns were purchased at the local street bazaar.
Water guns were filled in the central water fountain.
Two American testers and one unwitting Bulgarian commenced silly activities, including but not limited to:

• shooting water guns at each other
• running to evade incoming streams of water
• shouting
• shooting known passersby
• shooting neighborhood kids

Results:

Generally, judging from reactions, viewers and participants smiled and laughed convivially rather than pretentiously. In some cases viewers approached the testers for conversation. Overall, results of this experiment were very positive and have yielded mass amounts of laughter-induced endorphins. The testing was repeated more than 4 times and results were consistant.

yeah for somebody else

I just want to say how proud I am sometimes to live in Nashville. In Tennessee!

Nashvilleans can be so generous!

I just read the annual report of Catholic Charities of Tennessee. The numbers are astounding, particularly in areas of refugee and immigrant services. Here are a few:


416 REFUGEES AND
IMMIGRANTS received assistance
in seeking family reunifications,
citizenship, and protection from
persecution and violence through
the Immigration Services Program


205 REFUGEES from around the
world resettled in Nashville, and
225 ADDITIONAL REFUGEES
assisted with ongoing social
services through the Refugee
Resettlement and Refugee Social
Services Programs


300 SOMALI BANTU REFUGEES
were provided extra case management
in order to assist them in their
move toward self-sufficiency

Catholic Charities Tennessee's Refugee and Immigration Services Department made up 22% of the total budget in the last fiscal year. The Social Services expenses were nearly 44 % of the budget. Shockingly, administrative and auxilary services departments made up less than 8% of the expenses for the last fiscal year.

WAY TO GO!!

check them out: Catholic Charities of Tennessee

whooooraaah for somebody

My mom forwarded this link to me. Turns out someone in middle Tennessee has the right idea, in my opinion, of course.

Cornerstone Church in Madison, Tennessee and its members have decided and committed to renovating a local school. The budget is $180,000 and includes external improvements such as painting, landscaping, and playground equipment. They also plan to provide new computers, toilets, floors, and carpets. Way to go!

The pastor, Maury Davis, said in an article in The Tennessean, "it's time to do something significant, to reach out and affect the lives in our hometown, where God has called us."

Also from the same article, written by Al Cleveland,

For a spiritual standpoint, their mission is fairly well spelled out.

"The Bible says to go into all the world and preach the Gospel, and there are different ways of preaching," Davis said.

"Because of court rulings about separation of church and state, which changed the entire paradigm of how the church relates to the government in the last 40 years, we're not allowed to go in and do Bible studies and things like that. So we're having to find a more contemporary and acceptable way to share the love of Jesus in a
tangible form."

I am refreshed to see a church seeking out and applying ways to show Love.

overwhelming evidence

i am tired, cranky, sick of travelling.

every where i look there is something to be done that has no beginning point and no ending point.

the list of tasks to accomplish in the next three weeks brings me to tears. literally.

I just read this in a book called Ask the Dust by John Fante:

"But, I have to smile, for the salt of the sea is in my blood, and there may be ten thousand roads over the land, but they shall never confuse me, for my heart's blood will ever return to its beautiful source."

"Then what shall I do? Shall I lift my mouth to the sky, stumbling and burbling with a tongue that is afraid? Shall I open my chest and beat it like a loud drum, seeking the attention of my Christ? Or is it not better and more reasonable that I cover myself and go on? There will be confusions, and there will be hunger; there will be loneliness with only my tears like wet consoling little birds, tumbling to sweeten my dry lips. But there shall be consolation, and there shall be beauty like the love of some dead girl. There shall be some laughter, a restrained laughter, and quiet waiting in the night, a soft fear of the night like the lavish, taunting kiss of death."

Perhaps the beauty of this passage is lost with out the context, but I think you can appreciate the imagery in and of itself.

how do i pack two years of my life into a few suitcases and end it?

i'm not throwing out any babies

I think the combined impact of my recent posting, and an email I wrote to her, have terrified my mother. I'm pretty sure she's sent her prayer warriors after me. Which I appreciate, of course.

I'm not exactly sure who is the author of the comment on the post, "indignation," but I want to respond to her (i'm pretty sure it's a her because the comment was linked to a women's organization) claim that Truth is the color or Jesus. I understand that to mean that we can realize Truth through an understanding of Jesus. Sounds good...

So then, in who's understanding of Jesus should I rely? Is Jesus the beginning and ending of Truth? Is it possible that Jesus contains Truth, and Truth contains Jesus, but they are not entirely the same thing? I mean, is it possible that in Jesus is everything True, and in Truth is all of Jesus, but there is Truth outside of Jesus, and there is Jesus outside of Truth. What is Truth? AHHHH the anarchy and chaos!!

I have other, more heretical questions. Questions, notions, and ideas that I fielded to my mum and I think I frightened her. Sorry mommo.

I've got something even more heretical rolling through the space between my ears...

I don't believe my salvation lies in a formula of trite phrases, dare I say cliches, based on the opinion of interpreters of interpreters of recorders of Jesus' words. I believe Truth lies within every human heart as it is in the image of God and my salvation lies in my faith and response to that Truth. I believe Jesus is the most perfect way our weak minds can deal with how to respond to Truth and that he was a living representation of Truth.

Heretic thought #429: I think we, the Christian church, have missed the forest for the trees. I think we have stopped responding to Truth because we've been too busy analyzing and trying to figure out what it is in some sense we aren't even meant to understand. I want to simply believe that Truth exists and act on it, respond to it.

Why do I keep capitalizing truth? I'm referring to ultimate Truth, the kind that is etched into your soul. I will make the heretic claim #378 that God is Truth (that's not the heretic part, i know) and that one of the ways to understand God and participate in His nature is to try to seek Truth in our actions - respond to it. How? Think of a big T Truth... All men are created equal, for example. So, if you believe that, do you act on it? Do you try to repair inequalities between people groups? Here's another: All men have the innate right to life. Do you fight to protect life all over the world? Or do you prefer to bicker over what life is? I'll refrain from soapboxing here. By seeking to act in a True way we act in a Godly way, in a way Jesus showed and all the scripture before that sought to mete out through laws.

Maybe this God thing is so much less complicated than our dogma leads us to believe.

I know this post is already chaotic enough, and should be divided up and well organized (maybe some day i'll get ejermacated and write meself a book), but I have one more thought for tonight, and that is a fear. I love this constant questioning and longing of the soul. A quest in which every conclusion raises more questions. I fear some people will doubt my wisdom and authority because I prefer raising questions to giving answers, and think less of me.

Who am I to give answers?

There is an arrogance so foul in the claim that one has a complete grasp on anything of God, which is by default, anything in existence and anything conceivable, since God created all things and is in all things. But that claim is one which the church all over the world and through all of her history has made. This attempt to shackle God into our feeble realm of conceivability is, to my understanding, more blasphemous than anything I have asserted.

Please, do not take from me the mystery of God.

I'd love to hear your thoughts... I brace myself for your criticism, if even to say my thoughts are too muddled to understand.

The Devil Came On Horseback

I don't know how much you know about the situation in Darfur, but this video seems like it would be quite enlightening. Here's a clip...

The Devil Came On Horseback

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Indignation

Before you start, let me first apologise for writing yet another “It’s been two years and…” or, “Now that I’m getting ready to leave Bulgaria…” themed post. What can I say? It’s where I am right now.

I know I’ve said it before, maybe a few times, but coming to the end of my PC service brings to my mind many questions, specifically about fitting into the spaces where I once before fit. I am beginning to realize that perhaps it was never a proper fit. Maybe those spaces were like clothes: I found a “shirt” I really liked, but it wasn’t quite my size. I squeezed into it, and I pretended it was just right for me, but it wasn’t exactly my size. I think this was my life before, my ideologies, policies, politics, life. I never really questioned the size of my shirt. I simply put it on and wore it. Sometimes you just don’t want to shop, so you find the cheapest store and buy the first thing you can see yourself in. Sometimes you shop in someone else’s favorite store. The fact is that you’ve got to go into every store you can imagine and at least look at what is out there.

Ignorance is a heavy weight which sometimes seems light and easy.

Let’s be honest. I’m going to go home. I’m going to move into my parents’ house. I won’t have a car. I will have no money or job. I have no friendships in town left to speak of. I am quite nervous about going back to my church. My personal theology hasn’t so much changed, but my global theology has. I don’t know if that is a real term, global theology.

My notion of what is God’s absolute truth has definitely and permanently changed. I don’t believe in the same black and white which I once believed.

Imagine God. What color is He? You imagine Him in a color which is on the spectrum. You imagine Him in a color of which you can conceive. What if there are other colors which He has kept hidden from us and He is one of those colors? Like this, I believe is His Truth. Who am I to claim that I understand It?

I don’t think that this kind of theology will be will received at my church.

I’ve done some growing up too. I’m better at asserting myself. I’m better at being alone. I’m less tolerant of lip service. I’m more indignant toward injustice. This is a lethal combination in my southern churchy culture.

I love the South. I love living in the South. But here’s the truth from my eyes. The South, particularly the “church culture” is so two-faced. Sweet in her antipathy. Biting your back with a smile. Godly in every way Jesus was not. I do not relish the idea of being subjected to a culture where I cannot trust people. I want to be around people who seek to understand what is real and what really needs to be DONE. I want to be around people who will not think twice about what must be said. I am so tired and value the moments of my life too much to worry about to whom to pay what lip service. Who will behave most in my favor if I pour honey on my words? Who will I look best standing next to?

There isn’t enough time in the world.

"maegen" means...

When I was in college I had a class in old English literature and of course, one of the texts was Beowulf. For the reading I had a bilingual English-Old English side by side version. I noticed a word in the Old-English verison which looked like my name, "maegen" which was translated as "strong."

Here at An Anglo-Saxon Heathon Wedding, "maegen" is described as a spiritual luck or power

However, the description at Northern Tradition Shamanism is much more interesting. "Maegen" is described as a type of honor that you can earn and lose for sticking to your commitments and your word.

"Those with strong maegen will be instinctively trusted more by those who sense it. It's more than just reputation, it's an actual force attached to the soul that can be felt and used."

Now, I'm not trying to get all weird pagan on you. But names are important. I've been in a country for two years where nearly everyone celebrates their "name day" or the day that is the feast of the saint for whom they are named. Some people don't exactly have saint names, but are named after a month, or a flower, which have their own celebration. Names also carry meaning, like "thankful" or "blessed." So I guess I'm just trying to recognize that very important part of who I am. It's my name, my ultimate label.

North of Ithaka

When I pick out books, I generally choose them based on their covers, unless of course I know what I'm looking for. So when I go to the Peace Corps office in Sofia ans shuffle through the stacks of books PCVs did not deem worthy taking home with them. I recently picked up a hard cover (something I generally avoid, since I'm usually burdened with enough meds and paper work and travelling supplies when I hit up our little library) with a bright, ethnic looking frame around the covers. North of Ithaka, by Eleni Gage. It's a decent read about a woman who goes to the village in Northern Greece from which her father escaped and in which her grandmother was executed. She returns to oversee the rebuilding of the family home. In the book she describes her insights into Greek culture, the random chaos that can ensue in remote village life, and the process of her integration into the community, as well as her de-integration.

I'm not finished with it yet, but I've found it while not spell binding, very interesting. I'm sorry if I offend any Bulgarian readers, but there are some distinct similarities between the culture she describes and the Bulgarian culture I have encountered. This part of Greece was also under Turkish rule and then run by the communists, like Bulgaria. What's more striking is the similarity of the process.

A woman goes far away, alone. She lives in a small town, alone. She learns about the culture, habits, and lifestyles. She becomes a part of the place. She completes her mission and return to life.

There are two small bits of the book that struck me deeply.
"To love a place
is to feel for it, to let it wound you so it leaves a scar, a permanent
keepsake."

"I didn't know when I'd be back, and I worried that the
people I know and loved would forget I had ever lived in Lia."

These days, years, tears, experiences have become so deeply apart of who I am and they will always be with me. They have shaped the frame of my soul and have redirected the path of my destiny. I must come to terms with the fact that if I come back to visit in two years time, life will have gone on for my friends. They have meant more to me than I have to them.

My dearest colleague and friend, Yulia, and I are going to be presenting some bits of each other's culture on our 24th of May celebration. The 24th of May is the day celebrating the saints Kiril and Metodi, the founders of the the Cyrilic alphabet. This is the biggest day in the world of Bulgarian education. I will be reciting a Bulgarian poem, "Аз съм Българче" or translated, "I am Bulgarian" but the diminutive form of the word Bulgarian, as if the speaker is a child. I should also prepare a bit of a speech in Bulgarian for the occasion. Where to start. I've started several times, in English and Bulgarian.

Не'м думи.

I have one of these too

Alright, I have a totally cute brother too. He will not be coming to visit me. Sadly. But he's done lots of visiting himself. He's visiting California right now learning how to do something... I'm not sure what exactly, but it has to do with loving the outdoors, being a leader, helping others to be leaders, and loving God. If you've heard of Youth With a Mission, and/or SOAR maybe you know more. If you're on board with him on any of those things, or just want to find out where he is in this amazing pic, I can hook that up.

So yeah.

other news? I was in Stara Zagora for the coolest eighty's party EVER. I'd post a pic but I haven't got any. Jessie. It's spring in my valley which means I'm constantly fighting something. There is at this moment a bug crawling up my wall. Uh, I hate those things. Not a roach though, so I can deal. Anyway, I have a nasty throat thing, of course.

super cute!

this is my super cute kid sister, elayna! she'll be here on June 22. can you believe we haven't seen each other in TWO years?!

i can't wait! eeeeeee (happy sound)

i stress less

Honestly, what will become of me?
Don’t like reality
Its way to clear to me
But really, life is daily
We are what we don’t see,
Missed everything daydreaming.
Flames to dust,
Lovers to friends,
Why do all good things come to an end?
Travelling I only stop at exits
Wondering if I’ll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets in and I don’t cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why

-From “All Good Things” by Nelly Furtado


A few of my friends got together last night in Sofia to celebrate… one just returned from the states, one had a birthday, and another is finishing his service this week.

Walking home from the bus station today I felt a deep sense of sadness. Nostalgia for my life as it is now. I know that in fifty years time I will tell my grandchildren, дай Боже, that these were the best days of my life. Of course they haven’t been perfect, but oh they have. This is living. Perfectly alive.

When we parted ways today, it was difficult. Each time I give a goodbye hug, I have to take a mental inventory of my calendar for the next few months and work out if I’ll see him or her again. It will break my heart to leave these friendships.

I’m not so terribly naïve to believe that we’ll all keep in touch online as we do now. We will resume our lives in our respective states. We’ll go back to our friendships, start some new ones, and pursue our careers and academic pursuits. At best, we’ll Myspace each other for a few years. We’ll keep in touch like that – commenting on each other’s spaces – until our lives get too bogged down with life, or until the comments and pictures and information seems too foreign to be that person we remember and we realize we no longer know each other.

But we’ll always have these memories.

I was never a big fan of high school. And college was not a social experience for me. This must be how other people feel when they graduate high school, except I have the very real awareness that I will not always be friends with these people.

My counter part is my best friend here. She has helped me out of more situations than any friend should ever have to. She has given a tremendous piece of her life to me, as many counterparts do. She’s seen me through some of the stupidest, silliest, and most humiliating moments of my life, and she continues to invite me along, help me out, and most importantly trust me. Of all the people in my Peace Corps life, I simply cannot imagine my life with out her. And in just a few months my life will be very much with out her.

I am petrified about returning. I have no concept of how my life will be. There are so many experiences that have changed who I am which may cause difficulties in my fitting into the spaces I used to fit before. I am keenly aware of the deficiency of my friendships at home. Bulgaria has taught me some enormous lessons on friendship. I have had to fight to keep a friendship when it would be easier to let it dissolve. I have swallowed my pride to maintain a friendship. I have been more honest, more reflective, more helped, more involved. I have been less judgmental, less judged, less pretentious, less selfish, and less insecure. I have cried more and danced more. I have shared more and eaten more. I have never had such an abundance of friendship in America and I am afraid beyond belief that I never will again. Peace Corps puts all these random people in very similar situations and for this reason alone, I have met an incredibly diverse group of people. I’ve made friends I never would have made normally and am so glad of it!

How do I reconcile these feelings of happiness about going home and this sadness about leaving this life? I reckon this is an example of the dynamic that makes life worth living. Static is boring and useless. There is no pleasure with out pain.

Something else I just wanted to gripe about: I love Myspace, as you may be able to tell from all the previous references. But I have seen some spaces that make me ill. I see some spaces from people I used to be friends with in whatever previous era of my life and I just feel grrr toward them. It seems as if they are using one idea to fill up all the nothing in their lives. There are a couple of folks' spaces I've happened upon, who aren't actually my "friends," who blab all kinds of God talk all over their space. It's overwhelming. I'm a Christian (whatever that means... christian church, christian music, christian recording label, christian store, christian tee shirt, christian coffee mug, christian door mat), but I just don't understand.

From a psychoanalytical point of view, mine that is, which is the best of all armchair psychologists' points of view, I would have to question if these folks are not compensating for an insecurity. Right, like confident people don't have to tell people they are confident. What would you think of a person who all the time told people he was happy. Why do you have to shout about it all the time? Just be it!

Maybe that is the - a - problem with Christianity. We've lost the meaning of what it is so we run around shouting that we are one. We don't know how to identify ourselves with this idea in any better way than to draw it all over our spaces. But saying I'm a Christian doesn't make me one any more than my saying my hair is red makes me a red head.

I am a brounette, btw.

I'll leave it at that. I will not venture on the very hefty topic of what really is christianity. ... today

nonblog

It’s been alleged that my blog should be updated. Yeah. I reckon that’s about right. Thing is, I really haven’t had anything to write about lately.

I suppose I should be thinking about tying up my last days in country. These are the last moments and I should treasure and fill each last one of them up with the joy that is intrinsically tied with that moment merely because of its beauty as a moment.

Right?

See, the problem is this: I’m checked out. I’m phased out. I’m already at the airport waiting for my sissy to get here so we can play and travel and get to know each other again. I’m sitting at home on a Saturday morning watching the news. In English. I’m taking my puppy for a walk. I’m going out with friends and understanding the punchlines of their jokes.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. I’m still having fun here. Perhaps more fun than ever. But maybe, because I don’t feel like my social life is no longer a struggle, in some sense, I feel like I’m ready to go home. I don’t know if that makes any sense at all. When it gets easy, then you know you’re read to move on. Not that Bulgaria has really gotten easy for me, but some things definitely have. The things that are the essence of what I will forever remember about my service in Bulgaria are smoother.

In other news, spring is here, although not today. Today is a very ugly day, but the weekend was beyond beautiful.

Sorry, I really have nothing to write about…

but here are some pics i've taken recently

oh for pete's sake. i have a lot of pics i'd love to upload for your enjoyment. but my computer/connection is beyond ghetto slow. these are from Kurdjali. That lil'bit next to me is the best thing that Bulgaria's ever dealt me, and by that i mean my counterpart (pc speak for colleague #1). and the other is a painting at a Church there. this is Neofit Rilski. a miracle worker and the namesake of the most famous Monastery in Bulgaria - Rila Monastery. ill try again some other time. did i ever post pics from greece? they might be on my flickr. just search for me there.

for curiosity's sake

Hasarder, in her comment to my last post, asked what I was referring to regarding how Paul was accommodating to both Jews and "heathens."

Short answer: These are the books of the Bible which are generally accepted as penned by Paul. Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, Philemon. Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, 1 & 2 Timothy, Titus (this second group are not quite as accepted). Check out the wikipedia articles on Paul or Tarsus.

I'm not exegetical wiz, but I'll break it down the way I understand it. This is the lonnnnnnggg answer.

Jesus grew up and preached. He preached about love. The way I understand the theme, if we can say that, of Jesus' preaching is that he wanted people, Jews, to worry less about the legalism of the Law and more about the genuineness and holiness of their heart and spirit. To stop missing the forest for the trees, if you will. The fact is, Jesus preached to Jews because of his immense desire to motivate them to be better and Godlier Jews. Jesus didn't preach to initiate the Christian Church.

But it happened. Jesus preached in a very small area. Paul (and others) took that message beyond the local. Paul made it to what is now Turkey and Greece. Here there were fewer Jews. Paul's writings in the Bible, which are mostly letters to churches in Greece and Turkey, deal with the question: "what about the gentiles who want to follow Jesus?"

These gentiles, non-Jews, were not followers of the Laws - the laws of Moses. So if they decide to follow Jesus, should they eat kosher, keep the Sabbath, get circumcised?

It turned out, a bunch of those guys that new Jesus, and some that didn't know him (like Paul), decided that the "God fearing gentiles," and Christ followers should not be required to be circumcised. Was this a political move in order to increase the ranks (would you get circumcised as an adult for religion?)? The decision to not require circumcision, and other decisions were then a modern interpretation of the Laws and the teachings of Jesus. This is a process of binding and loosing, forbidding and allowing certain behaviors based on the wisdom of a rabbi. Problem! The rabbis refused to acknowledge Jesus, so this new group had to start making these big decisions. This is what brings us to "the council of Jerusalem," or that meeting with all those guys who knew Jesus.

So after these guys got together and made these interpretive decisions, Paul went his own way and did all that preaching and writing in Greece and Turkey. These epistles, or letters, make up a huge chunk of the New Testament. They have become the foundation for Christianity.

Some of the accommodating things attributed to Paul:

"For since I am free from all I can make myself a slave to all, in order to gain even more people. To the Jews I became a Jew to gain the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) to gain those under the law. To those free from the law I became like one free from the law (though I am not free from God's law but under the law of Christ) to gain those free from the law. To the weak I became weak in order to gain the weak. I have become all things to all people, so that by all means I may save some."
--1 Corinthians 9:19-22 (emphasis is mine)

These was a question of eating. If I as a Law-abiding Christ-follower am invited to eat at the home of an "unbeliever," should I eat their food, which may not be properly prepared and blessed, or may *gasp* be blessed unto demons? Here's what Paul says, in his incredibly liberal wisdom for the time:
"'Everything is lawful,' but not everything is beneficial. 'Everything is lawful' but not everything builds others up. Do not seek your own good, but the good of the other person. Eat anything that is sold in the marketplace without questions of conscience, for the earth and its abundance are the Lord's (from Psalm 24:1). If an unbeliever invites you to dinner and you want to go, eat whatever is served without asking questions of conscience... So whether you eat or drink, whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God. Do not give offense to the Jews or Greeks, or to the church of God.
--1 Corinthians 10:23-28, 32 (emphasis is mine)

Here's another I adore: in 1 Corinthians 13, Paul addresses the falseness of religion and gives a working definition of love.
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but I do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal... If I give away everything I own, and if I give over my body in order to boast, but do not have love, I receive no benefit. Love is patient, love is kind, it is not envious. Love does not brag, it is not puffed up. It is not rude, it is not self-serving, it is not easily angered or resentful. It is not glad about injustice, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."
--1 Corinthians 13:1, 3-8.

With these few tidbits in mind, I can safely say that Paul paved new ground in religion. He was persecuted for it, of course. But what he had to say is the alleged foundation of modern Christianity. We've built our theology on his words. But we've not built our lives around it. Paul preached that we do not have to live under the Hebraic laws because we can live under the laws of Christ, and he gave us his interpretation of those laws. What I see the modern church doing today is a very dangerous binding and loosing. We are totally into the "not under the law" bit, as long as we are 'born again.' But if you aren't a card carrying Evangelical, then you are under our laws to a degree we will not submit ourselves unto. Scary, since Jesus said in Matthew 3:16, "whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven." And what about all that love stuff? We're just going to chuck it because it's not convenient? not quite as pressing?

My point in all this history and layman's extrapolation is that we simply cannot stop changing. Only when the world stops being the world, constantly changing and growing, can we as Christians stop changing. We have some words, and some more words. But most of what we have in the Bible is the inspired interpretation of a bunch of really Godly people. Really Godly people still exist and they can still interpret the Words we have. This is the only way to keep the Church relevant. Let's keep binding and loosing for ourselves first before we worry about those with no interest in our 'yoke.'

blablabla...

The global warming "debate"

I'm sorry, I didn't realize global warming was still a debate. I thought it was a fact. The debate is who should do what to reduce the rate of warming.

I'm also sorry to inform the religious right that I am capable of worrying about more issues than abortion, gay rights, and sex ed. Poverty, global warming, AIDS.

Here's the background... Some folks, including Dr. James Dobson, wrote a letter to Dr. Roy Taylor, the chairman of the board at the National Association of Evangelicals. In this letter these folks express their concern about the vice president of government relations at NAE, Richard Cizik. Their main claim in this letter is that Cizik, as he expresses his views, is understood to be speaking for the NAE, which then represents the voices of Evangelicals in general. The problem with this, according to Dobson, et al is that the NAE "lacks the expertise to take a position on global warming." Although "it does appear that the earth is warming," Dobson et al suggest that the NEA should not be addressed theologically, since it is a "dividing and demoralizing" issue. Finally, the writers call for the resignation of Cizik if he cannot refrain from this demoralization and work to represent the NAE's commitmentment to defend "traditional values."

I have a couple of very basic arguments.
First, raising awareness of new issues does not have to be a distraction. Perhaps, and my rightest friends forgive me, but just perhaps, focusing only on what marriage is, not teaching young people how to use condoms, and arguing over why and when and who should have an abortion is actually the distraction. Is it possible that these micro-issues are narrowing the spectrum of relevancy of modern christianity. In no uncertain terms, these issues distract the secular (or, in church-speak, the 'unchurched') from the love of Christ. All they see is the hate, bigotry, self-rightousness, and uselessness of today's church. Don't insult me by assuming that I cannot occupy myself with more issues than you care to worry over yourself. Perhaps you, religious right, are worried that someone might think I care more.

Secondly, it is an insult to God to not be good and efficient stewards of the earth. Can we not honor what we are given? Fine, it is not a theological issue, but as Christians we should care for creation. The gluttonous rape of our lands is easy and easy to ignore. But being wise consumers and preservationists of our world is one of the many ways we as humans can share in the nature of God. God called the earth, the trees, flowers, animals, water, and air on it good. It is unGodly to waste them. If there are proven methods of less wasteful consumption of these goods, then we should be made more aware of them and encouraged to participate in them. The left encourages us to do this for the sake of the planet. The right should likewise encourage this participation, but for a greater reason, in order to honor God and his love of creation and all that is in it.

Thirdly, I'm so tired of this idea that to distract from mainstream Christianity is somehow unChristian. Puhlease. I can't form any better argument. PUHLEASE! Asking for Cizik's resignation because he is doing something "divisive" is like asking for Jesus' resignation because he was being divisive from then modern Judaism. It's like asking for Paul's resignation because he sought to accomodate the Jews and the "heathen." Forgive my extreme similes, but I hope you get my point. This extremism that Dobson & Co. are demonstrating is more like the farsical works of Michael Moore than the loving example of Jesus.

And that's all I've got to say.

However, if you're interested in paying attention to this debate, and what the big guys have to say, like Jim Wallis, one of the ring leaders of the "red letter" movement, check out this blog!

"get on over to the other side!"

Can you tell me, what does it mean to “get over” something?

I just watched a rather cliché film about soldiers returning to Iraq. But it moved me intensely because it asks the question, “how?”

When nothing seems right, and everything seems backward, we find ourselves first asking why. Why did it happen? Why him? Why me? Why now? Then we ask how.

Some people ask, “How do I get through this?”

Others ask, “How do I get over this?”

Can you tell me, is there a difference? What is it?

Perhaps you aren’t interested in the minuscule details of the sentence. But to me words are life. Words are logic. Logic is reason. Reason is what makes us human. Reason and logic is why we are higher life forms. Reason is the image of God in us.

In this film I watched, several soldiers came back from Iraq to the same small town. One came back in a coffin. One came back with out her hand. One came to find himself replaced at work. One guy’s girlfriend wouldn’t speak to him. And one came back to a son who hated him.

They were all expected to get over what they had experienced.

So they each dealt in their own unique ways. Stop trusting. Develop an alcohol problem. Become exceedingly violent, take some people hostage and get yourself killed. Go back to war.

Some people got over and some people got through.

So, what is the difference?




You have been walking for miles. Days. You have been walking in a dark forest with perils worse than those of your nightmares. The pain in all of your limbs is so intense that your body has entered a state of shock in which the pain is now a throbbing numbness, like your reasoning skills.

You find yourself at a river.

The river marks the end of the forest and on the other side is a place stunningly similar to the place you once called home.

The river, however, is wildly dangerous. Rapids. Boulders. It is at the bottom of a deep ravine.

You look to the north and notice a deer trail. You could attempt to descend into the ravine on the deer trail.

You look to the south and realize there is a brand new bridge crossing the river ravine.

What do you do? While risking your life on the trail and then crossing the river does sound noble, it would be exceedingly stupid considering there is a perfectly safe bridge. So you cross the bridge and return to the place resembling home.

You made it through the forest. The forest left its mark on you. It scarred you. It might have ripped parts of you to shreds. But you made it through and are changed because of the experience. You have wisdom and warnings to share with others. You have become stronger and more confident. You now know how to handle forests.

You simply got over the river. You did not drink of its waters or face its threats. The river left no mark on you and you left no mark on it. You avoided it and are ignorant of what lies within it.

When you get through, you learn and grow.

When you get over, you simply avoid.

I will not, with respect for myself, my God given responsibility to increase in wisdom, and for the lessons to be learned, simply “get over” anything which holds within it any potential for positive, no matter how difficult that positive is.

And with respect to other people, I will not ask or expect them to simply get over their crisis. I will challenge them to face the demons of their forests and to search for the lessons and the increase.

This is life. Every day, every moment is an experience for us to tackle and get through. It is not a bridge to the next better moment. Life can be a series of answers to questions which create more questions; always adding wisdom and curiosity and unquenchable thirst for truth and meaning. Or, life can be a series of bridges which consistently avoid the pain and the beauty Creation holds within it.

Will you get over or will you get through? Will you expect your neighbor to get over, or will you help him to get through?

God speed, little man

Mom asked me to write a letter to Erik's supporters explaining why he might be having a tough time, with the tragic news he's recently recieved, in addition to the difficulties of being away from home. Maybe you'd like to read it too...



Being out of your comfort zone can be traumatic. If you do not have a proper support system for traumatic events, they will scar you rather than help you to grow stronger. In our daily lives there are plenty of uncomfortable experiences. We each have "issues" that we face, and as we do, we make the decision to continue in comfort or try to grow through and above that issue. Sometimes we face conflicts that require us to chose between our passion and our comfort. Let's just be honest and admit that we usually choose our comfort; it's more natural. Some of us, however, attempt to be faithful to our God-inspired passions and trust that He will see us through what ever discomforts come along. Erik chose to go with his passion... He's in a very uncomfortable place now.

Just over 24 months ago I left America and joined the US Peace Corps. I now teach English in a small town in south eastern Bulgaria. If you haven't experienced life in a foreign country that is below the level of "developed," I can tell you something about it. I can't tell you what Kyrgyzstan is like, but you can assume that what Bulgaria or Romania is like, is intensified dramatically in the Asian countries of the former soviet block.

Any time you leave your culture, whether that place is developed or not, you must face a new and unknown culture. A development worker (and missionaries should be in the business of development on many levels) is required to attempt to understand and integrate into this culture. This assaults you on so many different levels. Your ideas of right and wrong are challenged. Is it Right? or is it just different? Everything you know to be familiar is gone, from food to sanitation. Etiquette, public and private; communication, group dynamics, ethical and moral standards, unspoken codes of behavior... And at the end of the day you just want a hug or a chocolate bar. Or mom's pot roast, or apple pie, or your favorite fast food take out. The effective development worker realizes these differences and is forced to analyze them, decide which they cannot participate in (for me, it's blatant cheating and race-bashing), and more importantly, how to delicately and respectfully show their own values with out losing the respect of the host culture. In my 24 months, I've learned a tremendous amount about the culture I'm in. I respect it. Parts of it I adore. Parts of it I detest. Every day I learn something new. And every day that I challenge myself is exhausting. Some days I choose to be comfortable though. I have the luxury of a TV, Internet, and a "supermarket" (that means three isles and two checkout counters, rather than shouting my order at the one lady behind the counter). I can stay in, stay warm, and stay safe. All Saturday, I can stay in my pjs if I please.

But what about when crisis strikes? For us in our safe places, we turn to our support system. That probably includes your friends, family, your faith, and your church. Some of us have some unhealthy things we do such as over eating, watching TV, or alcohol and/ or drugs. There are of course some healthy distractions, like music, exercise, socializing, and pets. But what about when those support systems are not available? I can tell you that first, everything seems so much bigger than it really is, unless you push it off to the side and don't handle it at all. Second, daily life becomes more of a chore and less than a great experience full of potential. You are merely dealing and managing- floating in a cocoon you create to make a safe place. Third, healing takes much longer. It's like trying to cure a wound with out Neosporin. It'll heal on its own, but not as quickly and not as cleanly.

Erik found out recently, as many of you know, that Eric Falk and Emmy Scott were killed in a car accident. Pastor Falk was not only a pastor and mentor to Erik, but a good friend and camping buddy. Another problem of being far-flung, is that frequently communication is sketchy. So Erik ended up finding out about this tragedy through a church mass email, rather than through a face or even a voice. Now, with nearly two weeks left in their service, Erik must face every day with the challenges this foreign culture, climate, language and people present, but with the grief of losing a good friend. In development work, every next day holds more potential than the one before. Your skills are greater, your contacts have increased, the host community has developed more trust and respect for you. This makes that last leg of the period, whether it's 9 months or 9 days, the most valuable for everyone who has invested in that development. Unfortunately, it is naturally a very difficult period where most people develop an exhaustion or "senior-itis" syndrome. Can you imagine adding to that the grief of losing a good friend and mentor?

We need to pray that Erik can stay strong and encouraging. He needs your prayers to be the leader and comforter that God has created him to be. There is a lot of development left to be done by that team and Erik, through his grief, frustration, and exhaustion must find a way to do the work of God there.

here i am..

i walked out on a class today. i think i've done this three times now. with all that has happened, i could not bring myself to fight with my students to participate. i simply didn't have it in me. as i stood there, these words ran through my head: "my brother is in a foreign land, possibly not aware that his good friend is dead. these *$@! don't even want me here, yet here i am when i should be with my family and friends. with my brother." so i gathered my things, said, "teach yourselves english," and walked out. i went to the teachers' bathroom and sobbed on the floor. it just doesn't seem right.

My mom and sister went to the visitation yesterday. When they greeted the wife of the deceased, she asked how our Erik is doing. I imagine she was mildly surprised not to see him there. My mom looked at her and said, "Erik doesn't know." According to mom, Amanda nearly fell to her knees in shock and anguish. She wept for my brother. Then she prayed that he would be comforted with God's peace.

The human spirit amazes me. This woman has lost her young husband and she mourns for a young boy's loss. She mourns not only for herself, but for each person who mourns with her. This is how we are a part of the whole. This is how we are not an island. This is the oneness of humanity.

it's just enough to see a shooting star to know you're really never far...

I never really realized how close my family is. It is trite, but distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Do you ever feel like there’s somewhere else you should be, but that you should also be where you are? You are torn between to places, people, and/or situations. PC Bulgaria has been amazing and I would not trade it for anything! But sometimes I felt the most miserable guilt for being here.

My brother graduated high school.
My mom had her ankle reconstructed and was disabled for over three months.
My sister’s good friend died in a car accident.
My best friend’s brother died.
My mom had a tumor scare resulting in a complete hysterectomy.
Two members of our church including a friend to my sister and brother, and a mentor, friend, and guide to my brother were killed in a car accident.

I didn’t realize how much I adore my family until I sob in pain for their loss, not my own. That Eric and Emmy were killed is sad to me in a humanitarian way. “No man is an island entire of its self; every man is a part of the continent, a part of the main. Any man’s death diminishes me because I’m involved in mankind… Ask not for whom the bell tolls… It tolls for thee. Humanity, Christianity, Nashville, Christ Church suffered a great loss that day. It is my brother’s pain that doubles me over in grief. It is knowing that my darling, smiling, cheery boy will grow weak in his knees; his shoulders will shrug in; his chin and lip will tremble as he tries to understand the details. He will go to a quiet place to be alone and cry to the God who he cannot understand. He will want to be alone and untouched for a while. He will come out of the quiet place and want to be with people. He will look to those he is with for hugs, comfort, sympathy, and understanding. It breaks my heart that I won’t be there, more than anything, I wish I were with him, or at least that he were home.

But this is part of growing up, part of life. We learn how to cope, to mourn, to deal, and to move on. Some of us suffer more and earlier. I’ve been so blessed. I’ve never had a close friend or immediate family member die an untimely death.

When I mentioned to my mother that I feel like I’ve missed so much in these two years, she said that Erik and Elayna have been through more in these two years than most kids their age. I can only pray that these losses will help them to grow into better and stronger people.

I sit here in my warm room and cry out asking why. Feeling like a great Wrong is being committed. Of course, I have the faith to say that God works all things for the glory of those that love him. Of course, I believe that in everything there is meaning and Purpose. That doesn’t make it hurt less.

I picked up a book from a friend today called, “We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families” by Phillip Gourevitch. It’s a book of stories about the genocide in Rwanda. I read a few pages in an attempt to distract myself from my own sadness. We cry for our immediate losses, as we should; but why can the world not cry out for the crimes against humanity? An untimely death is tragic. The untimely death of one million souls in a period of 100 days is more than tragic. It’s inconceivable. It’s unimaginable. You can imagine your mother dying and the pain you would feel. Can you even begin to empathize with a person who has lost everyone they know? Maybe everyone (of that ethnic or religious group) they have ever known? This is the answer to the question, “Miss, why must we read these disgusting things?” my students ask as we learn about Rwanda. Wouldn’t you want some one to know? Wouldn’t you want some one to care?

I’m sorry these thoughts are so rambled and inornate. Thanks for reading anyway.

It tolls for thee

There are so many words, themes, ideas, groanings of my spirit that I want to pour out into words. Love. Love of God. Love of Family. Guilt. Pride. Sorrow. Loss. Where does one begin?

My brother is in Kyrgastan with YWAM. He’s got another two weeks or so before he completes his service there. He’s there because he’s had leaders and mentors who have encouraged him to live beyond himself, to dare, to try, to be bold, and to always have faith. When Erik, my brother, started attending Christ Church Nashville, he was a senior in high school. He became involved in the young adult ministry, which was pastored by Eric Falk. That winter Eric Falk took a group of young people to Texas for the World Mandate Conference, a convention for world missions. Our Erik came back on fire for world missions.


Last summer, Eric Falk and a group of people from our church went to Israel. Erik joined them on that trip. Eric baptised Erik in the Jordan River

Eric Falk, since then was moved to the position of Missions Pastor. He was integral in getting my brother to Kyrgastan, helping him to raise funds and supporting him spiritually as a mentor, leader, and brother.

This winter, actually, just a few days ago, Eric Falk took a group of young people including Emmy Scott, a friend of my brother and sister and active leader in young adult and youth programming, again to the World Mandate Conference in Texas. They lost control of the van and collided with a tractor-trailer. Eric and Emmy were killed.

A twenty-six year old woman became a widow.

Loving parents lost a daughter.

A church lost two faithful leaders and servants.

What hurts me the most? My siblings lost friends and I can do nothing.

My brother is supposed to return in a couple weeks. YWAM is supposed to have contacted him shared this tragic news with him. We have no idea if our Erik knows of this loss. It will take a genuine miracle for him to get back to Nashville in time for the service on Tuesday. Miracles happen.

Parents knew the miracle of the love for a child.
A woman knew the miracle of the love for her husband.
A church knew the miracle of the love for a servant to its Master.

she's never gonna fly to the top of the world... right now...

For a combination of reasons including hormones, tiredness, and not the least, PC "senioritis" I'm feeling a bit homesick. I don't know why, but I really miss my family. I guess it's natural. But my brother has really been on my mind. Maybe it's just that I know he is so very far from home, and while I know it is difficult for him, from everything I can gather (from newsletters) he seems to be very active and integral in his group and in the community he's in.

Jared and Erik left yesterday morning for two weeks. They are going
with our friend Sakoo (the guy excited about outdoor adventure and community
development) to a village for a week, then to Bishkek. Erik finds it
pretty humorous that the first time he's going hunting will be in KG. Our
team doesn't seem complete without them, and we look forward to their return but
we're also excited for this opportunity.

I chatted with Erik after he got back from this little excursion and found out that they went hunting and snow boarding. In the mountains of Kyrgastan. Amazing.

Maybe it's the overbearing, second-mother figure in me, or maybe this is what siblings should be like, or maybe I'm just excessively emotional, but these kids make me proud to tears. I can't wait to see what the next few years hold for our quirky kid sister...

God bless mommy and match box cars
God bless dad and thanks for the stars
God hears "Amen," wherever we are
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed
Sweet dreams

From "Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)" performed by the Dixie Chicks, written by Radney Foster

"We live in our secure surroundings, and people die out there"

Most of us PCVs have at some point laughed about the giant tumors that many Bulgarians seem to have on their necks or faces. You see these big tumors and wonder what kind of abnormalities they might have in covered places or inside their bodies.

I met this older Bulgarian man who was so very friendly. He told me all about his family and his past. He told me that he had a son who had died of cancer when he was in his teens. He told me that many people died of cancer during those years from Chernobyl.

Is it possible that the high precedence of tumors and cancers are connected to the toxins spread 20 years ago? How many people across the former soviet block have gotten cancer as a result of the disaster at Chernobyl? Across Europe?

My friend Sarah is an English teacher in the Ukraine. She's told not to drink the water under any circumstances.

My mom has a good friend who moved to the Nashville area from Sarajevo, BiH (Bosnia and Herzegovina). When we where there, we visited her brother and sister-in-law. They had recently had a beautiful set of twins, after a very difficult pregnancy and an early delivery. My mom visited her friend recently and received very bad news. The sister-in-law, Ivana, has a baseball sized tumor on her rib. Mom's friend informed her that in BiH many babies get cancer, and of a baby who was born with cervical cancer.

Cancer every where, under any circumstances is devastating and disgusting. We wonder at the strength and courage of survivors. In America, and most of the developed world, we are so fortunate to have access to advanced medical technologies with which to fight these heart breaking and deadly struggles. But in countries only remotely developed, like those in Eastern Europe, not only do the not have the medical access to fight cancer as well, but they are not as well equiped to detect these ailments early and to fight it quickly, which we know is essential in the defeat against cancer.

What to me is especially sad, is that these people have so many other things in their lives to worry about. Many of you will never know how easy your life really is. If your greatest concern is the raise of gas prices, I won't feel sorry for you. Until you've had to get up at 4am to stand three hours in a bread line, until you spend your summer preparing for winter, until your family of four lives out of two rooms for six long months of winter, until your salary covers nothing more than your electricity bills, until your retirement payment is less than one meal at Cracker Barrel, I will not feel sorry for you.

Here's the sad part, I am aware of how very fortunate Eastern Europeans are compared to people in many other parts of the world. Central Asia is much worse off than here, and most of Africa is even farther behind.

I don't know why my rant against cancer led me to rant on world awareness... sorry

If you pray, please pray that this family doesn't lose a sister, wife, and daughter, and that those precious twins don't lose their mamo. And if you don't pray, find something you can do to help people less fortunate than yourself. And don't forget about the Bulgarian nurses and Palestinian doctor in Libya facing death for what is widely accepted as Gaddafi's scapegoat. Thank God, most of the nurses have family members who have recently received visas to visit them. Petition! Call your congressman! See what Amnesty International is doing! See if you can help save these people from dying at the hands of an unjust court. Please.

I would like to state my vision,

Life was so unfair.

We live in our secure surroundings,

And people die out there.

Bosnia was so unkind.

Sarajevo changed my mind.

And we all call out in despair.

All the love we need isn't there.

And we all sing songs in our room.

Sarajevo erects another doom.

Sarajevo, Sarajevo, Sarajevo, Sarajevo.

Bosnia was so unkind.

Sarajevo, Sarajevo, Saraje-

Bosnia was so unkind.

Sure things would change if we really wanted them to.

No fear for children anymore.

There are babies in their beds,

Terror in their heads,

Love for the love of life.

When do the saints go marching in? [X4]

Walk on tip toe...

"Bosnia" The Cranberries

With love to Kyrgistan

I chatted with my brother online the other night. He sounded a little bit down. I'm sure it's been difficult for him to be so far from home through the holidays. It was nice to hear him say that he missed me and to say some words that I knew he needed to hear. Sometimes people need to hear what they know, but circumstances have caused them to doubt. Somehow telling my ever smiling, always idealistic, optimistic, loving, endearingly clumsy, darling, huggable, kissable kid brother that the people around him need him and have surely come to depend on his cheery disposition and tall and dependable shoulder somehow made me feel better. But boy, it sure did make me remember why I miss him.

I have a sister too. I love her to pieces. She's eight years younger than me. I think she's a precious young lady. There's a big age gap between us. By the time I left, my brother had begun developing "grown up" opinions on issues. We had finally gotten to the point where we could discuss hot topics, deep issues, news, opinions. I miss his fiery, idealized perspective. With my sister however, when I left for Bulgaria, she really hadn't developed into her personality. There really wasn't much we could talk about except how funny Arrested Development is, or quote lines from Napoleon Dynomite to each other.

We're planning on her coming out here in June and seeing some of Europe together. I can't wait to have some quality time to get to know the young lady my sister has become over the next to years, to discover those qualities that she's grown into.

Can I get a plate of meat?

It is so difficult for me to believe that the last month has flown past.



After Thanksgiving, things at school kicked into high gear. Some of my ninth graders approached me about doing a fundraiser for the local старчески дом (old people's home). In a whirlwind of chaos, including a couple broken hearts, tired feet, improvisation, and a few tears, we managed to raise 500 leva from teachers and students from our school. We used this money to buy some very needed items for the starcheski dom. We planned out a darling little program to brighten the day of the residents, but in an act of Providence, the electricity went out not even half way through. So we improvised.



The whole process was exhausting but it taught me a lot. I learned that some students are naturally predisposed in certain tendencies, and when fostered those tendencies will grow. However, when ignored those tendencies pass away. Some times bad experiences teach children if they have a voice of wisdom. Too many students suffer from a lack of voices of wisdom. I recognized how children must be taught to appreciate what "elders" have to say. Children must be taught to follow instruction. Children must be taught to respect each other, teachers, and elders. These are not things that come naturally. Naturally, children, who then grow to adults, think only of them selves. Babies don't ask mommy if now would be a good time for a feeding. Toddlers don't ask politely to use the toilet. Children must be taught not to interrupt, to follow instructions, to speak with respect, to be generous, to be kind, etc. I pray that those children who have been taught these things will not get discouraged in the dissemination of these ideas.



Then for Christmas, I headed south!! I visited for the first time, my friend Chrissy and her family. Chrissy and her little boy moved this way when her parents decided to retire here. I found myself in a warm and loving home with lots of yummy food and hot drinks. For Christmas dinner I wound up with a bunch of British expats, discovering the intricacies of British food, like what exactly is triffle, and why Yorkshire pudding hasn't any pudding.



After Christmas I wandered up to Krichim to see the host family and other loved ones. I, of course had plenty of delicious and delightful 'gosti' (visits). I took one of my girls to Plovdiv for a lovely walk around, and got to treat her to a nice girls' day out. Like always, it was refreshing and fun to see the host family. But there is a bitter sweetness about going there. The awkwardness that transformed into amazing love hangs in every move, reminding all of us that our special relationship will be painfully altered in a matter of months now.



I returned to Razlog with a slew of company. Becca's parents stayed in a hotel while a good friend, Sarah Stiles and Becca stayed with me. The good times and hardy laughs abounded as we hung out together. New Years Eve, I cooked up a slew of tasty American food and we celebrated, the lot of us girls, plus Becca's 'rents and Arin. We then proceeded to the center to watch our lives flash before us as we huddled together protectively to shield ourselves from the fire speeding at us from every direction. New Year's Eve in the Razlog center includes both individual and state-sponsored chaos. Fire works rocket both vertically and horizontally. Entertainment is optimized by suavely tossing a little bomb into a group of people, or even better, a group of dancing people and seeing who discovers the bomb and who will be the last to flee. Also entertaining: hurling bombs at women with children, hurling bombs into the fountain causing an explosion of water, drunk men holding handheld bottle rocket launchers and see how low his arm droops before his less-drunk friend rescues him- or shall I say, rescues the rest of us from him.



Then I headed South!! to Greece. Sarah and I took an early train down to Thessaloniki, Greece. It was so amazing! Not only was it refreshing to be in a developed, English speaking, well organized, tourist friendly, warmer place for a few days, but it was so nice to count on having someone to laugh with for a few days. Sarah and I haven't really hung out in a while, and it's been even longer since we had those kind of side splitting laughs. From hamming it up with kids, to plates of meat, to luring street dogs on trams, we just had fun together. And having fun is a good way to refresh your soul when it gets trampled by the reality of life as a teacher in Eastern Europe.



Sarah and I arrived in Thessaloniki, found our hostel, checked in, dumped our stuff, and went hunting for a place to eat. We joked about just wanting some meat. We found this cute little road and on it was a tavern which looked quite closed. Apparently Greece celebrates the 2nd of January as a holiday as well. When Sarah peeked in the window to see if it was open, a sweet lady came and welcomed us in. She, in English, said her pub was in fact open and she had very good prices. She could make us some meat. Sarah and I crack up. Then ordered a couple plates of meat, some salads, some other random food, and two very tasty glasses of sweet, red Greek wine.

We spent over two days meandering around Thessaloniki. I found it to be beautiful, friendly, and overflowing with reasonably-priced shopping.
Here is where I was trying to insert some lovely pics, but I'm facing some technical issues.

After Thessaloniki, we took an afternoon train six hours south to Athens. There we again, easily found our hotel, which we found to be remarkably clean and comfortable given the very nice price. We wondered around Athens for the next two nights and days. My feet have never known such pain. But Athens was worth it. I was just astonished by how friendly people were.

While we stood in front of the Parthenon, in the Acropolis, high above the rest of Athens, Sarah and I joked about why anyone would come all the way to Greece to see this, when we have the whole thing still standing in Nashville, the "Athens of the South." Of course we were joking, it's astonishing to see something so huge, so incredibly massive and old!! Sarah posed the question, why is Nashville called the "Athens of the South" or had I just made that up. No, I didn't create that nick-name. And having been in Athens and Nashville both, the comparison makes sense. Not only are both cities known for their appreciation of culture and education, both are filled with great hospitality, warmth, beauty, and tasty food.
Although I got home and slept for over 12 hours, it really was a refreshing journey!

I'll try to get some pics up eventually.