Making Drake Proud...

How do you chart your travels?

This is my new favorite technique.

:)

Cyrillic is a really fun script. I love it.

Mapping the journey...

This was one heck of a day (see below).

Oy... Massive task ahead. I'll get you yet Arabic!

April 1, 2012

3:30 AM  - Wake up. Groggy. Smile, cause this is the last time I will wake up in the annoying dorms at Yeditepe University.

4:00 AM  - Get on the bus. Run around herding the students into the bus. Feel terrible as it is breaking hearts on both sides of the car doors.

4:15 AM  - Cross the Bosphorus Bridge from Asia into Europe. Frown, because it hits me that this is the last time I will be in Istanbul until who-knows-when. Recognize that I love this city.

4:45 AM  - Get to Atatürk airport and try to check-in. There is no one from Turkish Air at group check-in. Uh oh.

5:25 AM  - Still no one. Don't Panic. Where's my towel?

5:45  - Finally she shows up and tries to expedite our check-in. This technique kinda works.

6:05  - Get passport stamped.

6:10  - Begin running to gate.

6:20  - Still running.

6:30  - Gate in sight. Still running.

6:40  - Get on plane for our schedules 6:45 take-off. Phew.

7:15  - Plane takes off. Birds on the runway keep us taxiing for far too long on the tarmac.

7:20  - Watch the sunrise over Istanbul. Officially miss it for the first time. That didn't take long...

8:45(Egyptian Time)  - Land in Cairo, Egypt, Africa (counting the continents?)

9:00  - Get passport stamped (#2).

9:45  - Hop on tour bus.

10:05  - Cross the river Nile. Think: 'Woah... I'm in Egypt.'

10:15  - Realize that Cairo isn't at all how I imagined it. Officially give up on thinking that I can try to transliterate any of the signs.

10:30  - Get to the Great Pyramids at Giza. Say "This is SO surreal!" for the first of at least 100 times that day.

10:45  - Climb all over the stones. Obligatory. Get caught in sandstorm of epic proportions. Perfect setting.

10:50  - Get back on bus, drive to panorama shot. Remember to get in a few photos. Proof.

11:10  - Take a bunch of pictures at the Sphinx. This is pretty awesome.

11:35  - Herd cats...er...students back onto bus. 

12:00 PM  - Cross back over the Nile. Still can't believe where I am.

12:20  - Start to process Cairo. Fail to understand the terrain - so much sand.

13:00  - Return to airport. Easy and successful check-in.

13:05  - See Sarah Iskander. Talk separated by glass wall. Feel particularly like I'm incarcerated.

13:30  - Get passport stamped (#3).

13:50  - Get told that since we put together Jordan, we are calling all the shots. For the next 10 days, we are the Program Directors. DON'T PANIC. Start clutching said towel...

14:30  - Take off from Cairo. Watch as we ascend in the sandstorm. Surface from the storm at about 20,000 feet. It was this serene picture of a horizon created by the sandstorm, dotted with huge clouds on top of it, and a stunning look at the full moon in broad daylight. It felt kinda like this:

That said, I have never in my life felt like Keanu Reeves. 

16:00  - Land in Amman, Jordan, Middle East, Asia (full-continental-circle).

16:30  - Drive through a city that feels how I imagined the Middle East would feel. 

17:15  -  Check into our residence for the nest four nights. 

19:00  - Mind melts from complete overload.

The Road Goes Ever On and On...

So, this is what happens when I get into a little creative frenzy and have a few hours on my hands...

Maps have always been something of a passion of mine, so I've decided to physically map out some of my travels. 

This one is pretty fun.

As I visit a country, I'm filling it in with it's flag.

Makes me feel super thankful for where I've been blessed to go,

and really hungry to keep on walkin'...

Upwards and onwards, I guess,

Please kindly ignore the random line of red in Romania, the phantom Krakow location, and the (I'm really embarrassed about this) misspelled Deutschland...

Next on the list?

⃞          Jordan

⃞            Israel

⃞       Palestine

⃞     Lebanon?

⃞          Egypt?

⃞     Hungary?

⃞     Romania?

⃞     Moldova?

⃞ Transnistria?

⃞       Ukraine?

Checks, please!

Cофия, България

So, it took me two years, but I finally ended up back at an Eastern European speakeasy. Thank God.

That was about two years too long. 

"So, if you have it in you for one more, I know of a fantastic spot."

That's how it started.

Then we walked another two blocks talking about Sofian architecture and the similarities and differences between Bulgarian and Turkish cultural quirks. 

I would have kept going, but suddenly Eric said, "Turn here."

I looked up and to the left to see... a pitch black dark alley with a small light in the back. It looked like a garbage alley with an outhouse.

"Really?"

"Yeah, just go down."

I started down the alley, stepping in (I hope) snowmelt puddles, feeling my way by tripping on the uneven concrete tiles.

Made it to the light, turned right up the slight ramp, and pushed open a completely unmarked barn door. I was greeted by the sounds of thirteen different languages, the subtle sounds of mute trumpets and jazz pianos, and the dim lights of candles.

This incredible bar(n) is incredible. It is only lit by candles, no lights, there is no menu, you just have to know what you want, and you have to know someone who knows where it is. Honestly, it's the best bar I've ever been to.

Check out their article on the place here

I tried to take a photo, but the lighting was so dim, I couldn't get anything remotely visible. However, here is a photo taken by spottedbylocals.com

Here's the takeaway from their article:

"They say that in the past this was the place for the intelligentsia and you could only get in if you know the right person. The door was locked and no matter how hard you knock, unless you know the right words, they wouldn’t let you in. During the transition from Communism this place was open to the public but even nowadays the owner refuses to create an Internet site or promote it further."

I'm already excited to go back either tonight or tomorrow.

This city is amazing. I had no idea what to expect from Bulgaria, but wow. 

Just WOW.

This is a place to return to, no questions asked.

O The Places You'll Go...

Wanna know where I've been recently?

Outside the ruins of Miletus...

Inside them... 

And above them... 

In awe of Didyma... 

Completely in love with Aphrodisius... 

Finding myself not afraid in a field of wheat... 

Loving the foreground and background of what I'm seeing... 

Enjoying the cold sunset in Laodecia... 

Entering the gates of Hieropolis... 

Trying to soak up the beauty of the calcium deposits and hot springs in Pamukkale... 

 Wishing I had my trunks for Cleopatra's Pool...

Breaking stereotypes in Cappadocia...

(and I thought they only had mosques in hot weather places) 

Comparing models and the real thing in Capadoccia... 

Tying a knot onto the prayer tree... 

Snow

I am watching snow fall silently upon the streets of Istanbul. The Silence of Snow… Thanks for giving that meaning, Pamuk. My typing is the only thing that can be heard apart from the occasional Turkish murmuring. You see, the snow and heavy rain has cut the power in this little café. The refrigerator, the kahve grinder, the oven – it’s all off. Powerless. Silent. These snowflakes are the biggest I’ve ever seen. They fall hard and fast, but their impact is totally unseen among the much more present rain.

The dance of this storm is quite like listening to a symphony. It will increase in speed and size; snowing hard and quick. Then, suddenly, it will slow to almost a strolling pace. Just a slight reminder of the bitter cold above.

The Bosporus is totally indistinguishable from the clouds and fog. And Asia is completely invisible. It is over there. On the other side of that bridge in the distance, that now looks like it ends midway over the water. Only a few miles from the other continent, and yet it feels as far away as if I were back in North America.

Without making a sound, the snow has separated continents, tamed the busyness of the city, and muzzled the bustling noises of 18 million as they stand and watch.

How can one not love the snow?

I'm Standing at the Crossroads, I believe I'm Sinking Down...

We stopped by Greece. Literally. Did you know it's possible to treat a country like a fast food restaurant? Cause it definitely is. We landed, got on a tour bus, drove to the Acropolis, said hi, got back on the bus, drove around, got off the bus, and hopped on another flight.

Hey, Greece.

You were pretty darn cool. Athens looks like a lot of fun. And thanks for everything, like democracy, geometry, and philosophy. We appreciate it.

Love, Westmont College Europe Semester '09

After our little Greece tour (which really was cool albeit short. I mean, we stood on Mars Hill for Gentiles' sake), we were on our way to Istanbul. Welp... goodbye Western world, hello... um... well... something else?

On the flight, I got giddy. So did Sam, Lizzy MacRae, and Megan Woods. See, we have been waiting all semester to give our city presentation, on Istanbul. Lizzy and I were in rows across from each other (Side Note: Olympic Air? Very nice. Westmont basically had a plane to ourselves. I mean, I had a whole row to myself, as did about 10 other students. They also served a meal on a one hour flight, complete with a cookie run, and two drink runs. Gotta love government subsidized airlines. Take note, America), and our eyes were glued to the windows. When Istanbul became visible through the darkness and fog, we both turned to each other. We smiled, and then simultaneously mouthed the words: "Istanbul! What the...?"

We landed in a pretty darn modern airport, and I was already taken aback. Despite reading it various times over the semester, I had somehow forgotten that Turks use a Latin alphabet. I was expecting to see Arabic calligraphy everywhere, and I wasn't. My paradigm wanted something to be there that just was not... It was weird. We took a coach to our hotel. Yes... we have hotels while we're in Turkey. As in: room-service-bringing-turn-down-service-comfortable-bed-nice-shower-in-room-TV hotel rooms. Wow... what a welcome change. I mean, don't get me wrong, the hostel thing was fun while it lasted, but Merci Dieu for hotels.

The next morning we gave our presentation. You know those dreams you have where you wake up five minutes before you have to give a big speech and you're totally unprepared? Yeah, that actually happens. I forgot that we gained an hour from Italy, and so my alarm was set to go off fifteen minutes into my presentation. Thankfully, my roommate came in 5 minutes before class and woke me up. Let's just say that I gave my parts of the speech in Kent Hotel - Istanbul slippers. Definitely bringing those things home as a souvenir.

Then, we went out to the Crossroads. See, Turkey's not quite the West... but it's definitely not the East either. It's unique. I get woken up often to the Islamic Call to Prayer (which is absolutely beautiful, by the way.), but the streets and shops here feel totally Western. It is just blatantly obvious that this is a Middle Eastern culture (as in an honor/shame paradigm, mixed with some nomadic traditions) that has fallen in love with Western culture. I have been treated SO well by the Turkish locals. Everyone wants to know where I'm from, and they will come right out and talk to you, even if English is far from natural for them. This was most evident in the Grand Bazaar.

Which has a perfect name. It's grand (it makes the Mall of America look small), and it is bizarre. The shop owners all stand outside and lure you into their shops. But they're not pushy. Italians were pushy, they'd almost guilt you into eating at their restaurant. Turks are just nice. They've got a sense of humor too. I walked by a carpet shop, and the owner looked at me and said "Let me sell you something you don't need!". I gave him a thumbs up as I walked away belly laughing. I met a really kind Macedonian who let me custom build a hookah. I'm thoroughly pleased with it. The best story comes from the jewelry shop owner though. I was hanging out with Joy in the Bazaar, partially because I didn't want her to be alone in there. It is unbelievably easy to get lost in a place that has no readable signs and where every shop looks identical. Anyway, I was just hanging with the owner ("Your name is Kurt? Like Kurt Cobain? Oh, I like Nirvana. I listen to them in high school"), while Joy shopped ("Here, sir, you sit while lady shops. It's hard when woman shops for hours. I know"). We talked for probably a half-hour about quite a bit of things, including my major ("Politics? really? Well, then maybe you can be Kurt Bush. No! Wait...Kurt Obama, that's much better."). The funniest part of the conversation went like this though:

Shop-owner (I believe his name was Ashmet, but I could be wrong, he will be referred to as "A" from now on)

A: So... how long?

Me: ... (thinking) how long? what the..? ... What do you mean?

A: How long have you been married *pointing towards Joy*?

Me: hahahaha... oh! Well, actually we're not married.

A: Oh oh, boyfriend and girlfriend?

Me: No, no... we're just friends.

A: ... Really? *looks blankly at her. Looks back at me* ... *Looks at her again. Then to me again* Just friends?

Me: Heh heh, yup just friends...

So, now the running joke is that Joy and I are married (It was really fast, I know. Heck, we can't even remember the ceremony... or the engagement, for that matter).

Anyways, back to Turkey. We have done a good amount of touring. First of all, Mosques are beautiful. Seriously beautiful. The Blue Mosque is jaw-dropping. The Haghia Sofia is a breed of it's own. It's gorgeous as a church, it's impressive as a mosque, and as both it defines the history of this place so well. The Ottoman palace was greatly impressive, but it's blatantly obvious that you have been on Europe Semester when you're in the middle of a palace and you think Eh...I've seen better. Yikes. Just yikes.

The last little anecdote begins with a pun. We were in Turkey for Thanksgiving. It was perfect cause we got a little bit of Hungary as we flew over, just got a little bit of Greece, and then had our Turkey. Thanksgiving was interesting. Our dinner was a nice attempt. We had chicken shish kabob and french fries. Almost turkey and mashed potatoes, right? The real feast was after, when 12 of us went to a hookah/tea garden. We were all around tables, just sitting, laughing, talking, and enjoying each other. I got thankful there. A little culture shock made me grateful, that's cool. If you want some more info on this event, I ended up writing an essay on it. I'm not sure it's quite what the profs want, but even if it tanks in the grade category, it's one of the best essays I've ever written.

So...

That's been Byzantium so far... er, I mean Constantinople... ummm... Istanbul. Yeah, Istanbul, that's it. That's been Istanbul so far.

Return of the Empire...

Earlier, I described it as "reading a book for the second time", and coming back to Rome was exactly that (Ironically, I finished my third book of the semester Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol in Rome. I've read over 1,200 pages on my own this semester. Hmm... maybe less textbook reading isn't a bad idea at all. Profs, take note). It was wonderful to be able to share some excellent sites with my friends this time. We stayed literally a block from Colosseum. That was rather epic. Seeing that ancient sports arena lit up at night makes the Staples Center look like a joke. I ended up at Trevi Fountain 3 of my 5 nights in Rome, and every time I ended up seeing my friend Joy. She corrected me on my mythology every time we were there. Thanks, Joyful. We're also now apparently married, but more on that later.

Trevi has a pretty magical feel to it. I mean it's these perfectly sculpted Roman gods erupting from marble slabs and the back of this building. But honestly, it was the people that made that place so cool. My friend Pecos showed up again in Rome. My only words for that were: "Yes. Please." He had just finished up his semester in Cortona, and he brought his friend John to join us on their way out. So we spent two days hanging out. The best part was at Trevi though. The five of us (John, Pecos, Sam E, and Justin D) all bought Cuban cigars, and then sat on top of one of the massive marble side railings. We puffed away, and a haze of smoke left our area and floated above all the tourists at Trevi. We just sat there; smoking and talking. We laughed hard, and even got deep into conversation. It was the ideal boys night out. Other people agreed, apparently. Sam spied 6 or 7 people set up their tripods and take some photos of us; feet dangling over the marble, stogies in hand, mid-laugh. I'm just waiting to see myself show up on some Italian anti-smoking billboard.

Having Pecos around was again a breath of fresh air. He's got this "life" thing down, and it's just plain fun to be around someone like that. You know?

I ended up at the Hard Rock Café twice during that span. It was pretty great. I haven't really let myself enjoy any of the American "exports" here in Europe (besides the occasional Starbucks), but this was just too refreshing. I actually felt at home with a massive burger in front of me. With loud music and ridiculous videos all around. With Free Refills. I didn't realize how precious those words actually are. The feeling of comfortability was absurd. It was just so relaxing to be in a place where I didn't have to be conscious of the fact that I was in a group of loud people speaking English. Course, the most ironic thing about all of this is that Hard Rock started in London...

So clearly, going back to Rome was great, but in order to get a better picture of it, there's a bit more. You have to top all of these little magic moments off with two more magical places: the Pantheon and the Forum. Pantheon is just darn impressive. Awe is literally ripped from your lungs when you stare at its dome. It actually does not make sense. Plus, it has a wonderful piazza in front of it. I brought some friends to dinner at one of the restaurants that my mom and I ended up at right out front of Pantheon, and had one of the best dinners of the trip so far.

The Forum is kind of indescribable. As I was walking over the uneven cobblestone, I literally felt like I was wearing a toga, on my way to Senate. Sheesh...what a nerd. Anyway, going through the roads of the Forum for a second time was my favorite tourist part of Rome. The first time I heard about X number of the ruins and former temples, and the second time I heard about totally different ones. Combining the knowledge from both times seriously brought those old roads to life. We also went inside the senate building this time. Yeah, inside the senate building. You know how we think? Our entire mindset, our paradigm? Yeah, that is because of the people in that building. Rome is responsible for our history, and I was standing in the room where history was written. Not the books of history, but the events. They came forth from that place.

I was standing among Titans...

Czech-Bouncing

Yup. They finally made me leave Germany for good. Dang. It’s ok though. Cool things lay ahead.

On our way out, we stopped in Dresden. I had low expectations. I thought ‘OK. It’s another World War II damaged city.’ I should have learned my lesson in Coventry.

This whole town was blitzed. Razed. I mean nothing left. Maybe three buildings, maybe. The British firebombed Dresden so hardcore it caused a “firestorm”. Basically, the whole town was burning at 1000° centigrade. The asphalt melted. In the process, St. Mary’s church was destroyed. Actually fully dismantled.

Thank God for rebuilding.

Before Dresden, Sacre Coure in Paris was my favorite church in the world. Not anymore.

The new St. May’s in Dresden, Germany takes the cake.

Before we entered, it was prefaced as a personification of resurrection (destroyed then rebuilt), perhaps this added to the beauty. It had just been rebuilt in 2006. You know when you enter anciten churches and you think ‘I wonder what this place felt like in its prime?’.

St. Mary’s is in its prime.

“Wow…” That’s all I can really say.

They call Prague the Paris of the East. I think I may like the East better. Everything from Berlin east has been phenomenal. Maybe its because it’s new for me, maybe it’s because I mesh with these cities better, or maybe it’s just being connected with the Aryan community, I dunno.

Regardless, Eastern Europe is incredible. The past 20 years have done it well.

Prague certainly feels 20. The metro didn’t even smell yet. The city itself is kind of a strange amalgamation. One can tell that these people haven’t self-ruled often. The medieval structures are all gothic and renaissance architecture, but they’ve been “baroqu-ed” (Gabriel-ism). Apparently, the Austria-Hungarian empire used Baroque architecture as a weapon in the counter-reformation against those rowdy, free-thinking protestants, The Austro-Hungarians rules until 1919. Then the Czechs got a bit of independence. They celebrated with a unique style of art. Art Nouveau was everywhere, and thus, Mucha was everywhere. That was awesome. I got to see an entire museum dedicated to my favorite artist. Definitely wouldn’t mind some Mucha hanging in my future residence.

Back to Czech history. They had their own country for 20 years. Then, the Nazis invade. Sweet. There goes all that Czech pride. So, no more neat art. Things just end up shot-up or blown-up. Then, in ’45, comes Communism. Most things stay shot-up or blown-up. Well, except for a massive Stalin statue (that eventually gets blown-up in the 50s). The poor Czechs don’t get their own place again until ’89.

Yeah, the year I was born.

3 of the countries I’ve been to are as old as I am. Maybe that’s why I like them so much.

Prague was definitely made better by Gabe’s presence. From teaching us to laugh at dumb tourists, to poking fun of couples at the castle gardens/discussing what a good date spot it is, to telling us what to do when a pistol-toting Nazi is walking towards you (RUN!), it just wouldn’t have been the same without him. Taking me out to a much-needed breakfast and discussing the information age/the 21^st Century/the future was just icing on the cake.

Cheers, Gabriel. Hope to see you soon.

Best site – Prague Castle/St. Vitar’s Best stained glass ever, and incredible views

Best food – Lebanese Group Dinner – It just kept coming, and it was all awesome.

Best pun – Gabe’s talk about the victims of the 2^nd Defenestration of Prague being the first bounced Czechs.

Nestling in the Netherlands...

So…

Shall I tell you a story?

How about from a far away place?

OK?

Good. Here we go.

Bruges was very very nice again. It was a bit of a rest. Kind of. I knew things, and felt a bit more at home, but we still lived far from the city center, and the walk was always just as obnoxious. So I took advantage of the things that I knew, and some things that were new. There was a shopping festival in the city, and Bruges actually came alive. When we were first there, the city was quiet… and old. And I’m not talking about the buildings. We seemed to be the only people under 45 in the whole city. But this weekend was different. There were tons of people, the city actually felt crowded, and we were the perfect age. The festival brought a whole new element to Bruges, it made it so enjoyable. It also brought roadside stands. These stands brought Christmas gifts for my family, and the best bratwursts you’ve ever had. Mmmm… my mouth is watering right now, in a totally different country…

We left Bruges after four days. Our bus headed North-East. Destination: Amersfoort, the Netherlands. Now, you’re thinking Ok, thanks to that movie, I have at least heard of Bruges (Maybe). But Amersfoort? Why Amersfoort? For a wonderful, wonderful reason.

The bus was buzzing, even after a full travel day. Everyone was excited, and quite nervous. We were about to hear who had drafted us. Amersfoort is our homestay town. We were being adopted for four days, and we were just about to hear who had selected us. It really felt like the draft too. Kristin (former Westmonster, and trip money/lodging coordinator) was on the microphone at the front of the bus. She would read two names, then those two people would head on down the bus aisle. I swear she would say And with the Number One pick in the 2009 NHL Draft, the New York Islanders pick… and then the names. She went through about 14 people, all in pairs. Those of us who were left got more and more antsy. Then out come these words:

And our first single! This person is going to be on their own!

Welp…guess who that was? J Soon as I heard those words, I knew it was me. First impression: nerves. Then: excitement. I thought Well this will be a nice way to get some alone time. Now, I just have to meet my adoptees…

I trekked the Aisle Walk (now I know how Matt Duchene feels – yeah, I’m a hockey fan. You should be too. It’s more fun to watch then [insert the sport you like to watch here].)

I walked down the bus stairs into the cold Dutch rain and saw a taller man with a big smile on his face. From that moment, I knew I’d be good. We split a car back to the flat, and I was introduced to his wife, and her bright, spunky smile.

This is them: Arjen and Jacobien Karssenberg. They are incredibly nice. Call them up for your trip to Amersfoort, they’ll take good care of you.

We spent a lovely evening sipping coffee (the Dutch love coffee as much as me! Hooray! No more small French espresso shot-glasses. These people drink coffee like it’s water. Perfect.) and introducing ourselves. The Karssenbergs are very into gardening, reading, and board games. After talking, they showed me one of their board games, called Regenwormen (translation: Ringworms). It’s more pleasant than it sounds. A short little dice game, it was a perfect nightcap. Then I got to hop into an actual bed in an actual house.

The next day was spent almost entirely in Amsterdam. I had to depart from the Karssenbergs, and met up with the rest of the group. We took a coach into the city and hit the pavement at the speed of Usian Bolt. Two quick museums and two quick meals in 4 hours. Yikes. Then, back on the coach back towards Amersfoort. It is here that I will place a significant shoutout: Eric the coach-driver, you’re the man. He would grab the mic during drives and tell good stories about things we were seeing or even better, he’d drop jokes (my favorite: he gets on the mic and says: The red light district is exactly behind us now. I was there a few weeks ago, and I was looking around, when I saw a woman in a window. I went up to hear and asked ‘how much?’ She said ’50 Euro’ I looked at her and said ‘Hey, that’s pretty good for a double-paned window!’ Cue Rimshot). Then, as we came into the Parking Lot that would be our pickup/drop off point, Eric slams on the gas and starts pulling doughnuts. That’s right, full, 360 degree turns. In a tourist coach. I was in the back, and I swear I was at a 45 degree angle. Three times around, and then he cranked the wheel the other way, and we spun opposite. Sheesh… Eric rules.

I spent the evening at the flat with more great Karssenberg-conversations-and-coffee. Then another great night in a real bed.

Another Amster-day. Quick toured a semi-closed Red Light district. I was a bit underwhelmed. I think that I had got myself ready for something that it is not. Spent the rest of the day just around the town. It’s actually rather pleasant. Don’t let stereotypes fool you, Amsterdam can be beautiful and classy.

Returned to the flat on my own. The Karssenbergs were in the north of the Netherlands at a good friends wedding. That’s right. I had a European flat to myself. So what did I do? Only the things that any 20 year old would do.

Called home and then went to sleep.

Wow… Maybe I need to be more adventurous…

The weekend was spent completely with host families. So I was treated to an awesome driving tour of the Netherlands. Arjen is a great tour guide, and he showed me medieval Netherlands and the new land that was created less than 100 years ago. Now that's weird. The Dutch actually create land. Weird...but awesome.

The tour ended with a typical Dutch meal back at the flat and then me getting my butt kicked at Ticket to Ride. Thought I was at least kinda good at that game. Not so much.

Sunday was a slow day. A ten minute bike ride to church. I didn't realize how much I missed bike riding until hopping on one here. The service was excellent too. The sermon was well thought out and smartly delievered. Course it was in Dutch, so....

We then rode home, had lunch, and I took a wonderful two hour nap. Then, dinner, and more losing at board games. Hey, they were a ton of fun though. And they taught me how to play Settlers of Catan... or Kolonistas (I think that's spelled right).

Now... a quick last night in the heavenly bed, and off to Germany in the morning...

And Then... Rest.

I've spent the last few days in Birmingham, England. But not really in Birmingham (explanation later). If you don't know, B'ham, as it's called on highway street-signs, is a large industrial town North-West of London. It's a big town, and it feels a lot like Chicago. My friend, and current roommate, Sam, described it as concrete. Which is pretty accurate. Not only is there a ton of the stuff around, but for some reason Birmingham just feels concrete. Some big cities can feel warm, inviting, filled with reds, burgundies, mustards, neons, and welcoming, London is definitely this way. I think that may be my favorite city in the world. There's just something about it. Birmingham, on the other hand, is blue-white, reflective, cold, rigid, rutty, and bristly. I did not quite get comfortable there.

Although, we did stumble upon a market; this very multi-cultural, cheap, almost-flea-market area. I enjoyed that quite a bit. I found a Union Jack zippo, which is perfect for my incessant need to fiddle. I just flip it around, and open, and closed, and over and over; kinda like Pyro from X2. Without the teenage angst.

But! Most of our time has not been in the city. Quite contrarily, it has been in a small Quaker community just outside of town. Woodbrooke's population is small, and its median age dropped significantly when we arrived. It's kind of like a large bed-n-breakfast. Complete with a gorgeous garden in the back, a lake with boats, an unlimited supply of hot tea, homemade meals, and rain. Lots of rain. I love the rain. But it's keeping me from taking many pictures, so there may not be a very good feel for Birmingham on here.

This place has been so needed. There's just an overwhelming sense of peace. You will slow down and reconcile yourself with your surroundings here. There is no choice, it just happens. Which is so nice. And needed. I think I'll be ready to tackle 10 more days of London after this. I'm actually really excited about going back. Also, random, I have an excellent sense of direction in the city. How bizarre.

Anyway, more important things. Like God. It's quite difficult not to recognize Him here. It's not a human sense of peace that floods you while you're here. ' Course, the professors have set up this place to promote focus on God as well. We had the Theological Philosopher John Hick come speak to us a few days ago. It was an...interesting talk. His position is one that transcends most traditional religions and finds the truth (to live for, and love God, and live a compassionate life of selflessness) of the Ultimate Reality (God) is drafted in all the actual religions of the world. As a result, one does not have to follow the Way, Truth, and Life of Jesus to reach what humans are meant to do by becoming as close to the Ultimate Reality as possible (salvation and heaven). He is brilliant, and I found myself agreeing a lot with his points. He did an excellent job pointing out inconsistencies and false pretenses among our thinking, which was needed. However, I noticed how much of the class' responses were apologetic, on-the-offensive, "this is what the Bible says...", which was quite disappointing.

I think that there is a lot to Hick's point of view. It is impossible for us to judge just who among us will end up with God after this life, God reveals His truth in ways that are catered to our own understanding (so, His love can be found in places that one might not expect it to be in), and we should recognize the incredible achievements of anyone, not matter their religion. However, after fleshing things out with one of my professors (who is a former student of Hick's), I can see where I differ from him. I still think that Jesus is the incarnation of God who died for all our sins, and should be regarded and worshipped as such. And I think that ultimately, it is up to God to decide who will be with him at the end, not for us to guess.

God is also revealing himself through his own words (hmm...imagine that). The Chaplains are reading through the book of Isaiah, which has so far been incredible. It's amazing what deep and mind-blowing truths were revealed to a relatively insignificant group of settled wanderers in ancient Palestine ;) I'm so excited to continue this practice and to continue to find God in a place that I haven't before.

Oye... I need to learn conciseness...

Past the Pizza Hut and Onward...

Made it.

I’m here. But wait…what is here? I mean, I’ve made it to the place I’m staying at for a while. But it still doesn’t feel real. I almost feel like I shouldn’t be here. Almost like a visitor, or a tourist, or even an immigrant. Perhaps a refugee for learning… A culture refugee?

Hmm…clearly I’m a bit mixed up in my thoughts. There were a lot of question marks in that last paragraph. Maybe I need a bit of a recap.

Got on the flight no problem. Ended up in business class. Talk about a nice way to travel. I read, enjoyed myself, and slept like a baby. I did feel a bit bad though, one of my fellow Euro Semester buddies was on my flight. I tried to get her up in the “second class” with me, but alas, not one open seat.

I got to entertain a little girl who was sitting in the row in front of me in her backwards-facing car seat. That was great. She was a really good airplane child, only crying once. In fact, it was right when we needed to wake up too; she was my human alarm clock.

I got off the plane still in a bit of a morning fog, and walked to immigration. I had filled out my landing card except for the address of the place I was staying. I didn’t have a printed itinerary, and had no clue the actual address. The immigration employee was a crass and less-than-patient woman who decided I was just trying to annoy her. Apparently she was close to turning me around for the States. That would have been a nice start… Thankfully, Joy, my travelling companion, had her itinerary with her. I got it from her and the woman decided to completely change her tune. She went from bitingly bitter to a ray of sunshine faster than a French surrender. Welcome to Europe, mate.

Joy and I then spent a half hour on the Underground. Which is just great. I love the Tube. Then, it was a quick walk to our residence. The London School of Economics dormitory. Let’s just say that British dorms are a bit different than American. But I’m digging it. I have a room to myself for this week. Good thing I got a year of practice rooming by myself, or this would be rough.

Went on a 2 hour walk around Holborn (the “L” is silent by the way) with a few others and got lost in a big city. Now that’s a perfect start to things. We’re staying in the middle of a beautiful piece of London, so I will absolutely take some pictures soon. Good call on the camera, Mom. J

I don’t miss the States much, I love London. But I sure do miss the people already. J

Cheers, mates.

Single-serving Coffee, Single-serving Cream...

Ah, the airport. It’s interesting to me that this place causes so much uneasiness in people. Is it strange that I find it peaceful? I find myself in a movie whenever I am at the aeroport. You know, one of those time lapse scenes, where the film’s main character is standing, or walking slowly. And everything else, usually cars or other people zooms by, indistinguishable. That main character, that focal point, is me. Except my focus is not on me. It’s on everyone else. All the hurried people…where do they all belong? It seems to me that it is an unspeakable faux pas to walk at a normal speed in the terminal. People look like the need their iPod armbands so they can keep up their pace, as they fly down the way, constantly searching for their gate. I find it all fascinating. So much so, that I do the opposite of the rest. I consciously try to walk slowly, or to not look at my boarding pass, or to not shuffle around while I’m in line. In fact, I try to be close to the last person in my boarding section. Because really, why do we rush to the door the moment we hear the words “United would like to welcome seating area 3 to board”? It’s incredible, I think that office workers would be so much more efficient if their bosses were airline ticket agents. They are an unquestionable authority; the last real gatekeepers in our age of tin-can carriages.

Isn’t it interesting though, that peace could come from a place of such hurriedness…such inconsiderateness? Other than respecting the ticket agent at the gate, I’m fairly certain that I’ve never seen one place bring out so much angst in people. It is as though that boarding pass entitles a person forget those around him are actual people. Or that the TSA worker is wanding people as fast as she can. Or that the flight attendant is not your personal slave; he does get paid, and its to save your life, not make it posh.

To me, an airport is like a car crash on the side of a highway. It captivating, and sorrowful. No matter what highway, no matter where it is, traffic slows to see just what happened. I just can’t take my eyes off of people in airports. No matter what state, or country; entitlement, inflated self-importance, and rudeness are the order of the day.

But somehow, I get peace here. That’s where my simile falls apart. I don’t get peace from car crashes. I’m not Tyler Durden. Although I have had many single-serving friends….

So airports, even though I am constantly reminded that we live in a fallen and broken world, are beacons of peace. Isn’t God strange? Peace in brokenness. Being reminded of goodness by witnessing selfishness. It’s one of those small wonders that I am glad I get to witness often.

Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it all…

Speaking of reading. I make a point to pick up Wired magazine in airports. It’s just the right size read for a trip. In the latest issue, there is an article called “The New Rules for Highly Evolved Humans – A Scientific Approach to 21^st-Century Predicaments” and it’s genius…

1. 1. It’s ok to kick out your Rock Band bassist if he sucks.

2. If your call drops, call back; no matter what.

3. Don’t Google-stalk before a first date. It can ruin chemistry.

4. Texting is OK while in the company of others; if you are trying to include your textee, not if you are trying to exclude your actual company.

5. If you can’t buy if online, feel free to Bittorent.

6. Never broadcast your relationship status.

7. Don’t lie with your Facebook photo.

8. Balance your media diet: 1 hour of gaming, ¾ hour microblogging, 1.25 hours social networking, 2.5 hours of news, and 3.5 of entertainment.

9. Online conversations are not all about you, so don’t dominate them all.

10. Friend your boss, but not your boss’s boss. Follow them both on Twitter.

11. Ignore your ex on Facebook.

12. Do not talk on the phone while using a urinal, but you can text.

13. Take your Bluetooth out of your ear when you’re not using it.

14. Choose the right ringtone.

15. Don’t Tweet or Blog anything that has more than half a million hits.

16. Delete unwanted posts from your Facebook wall.

17. Meet online friends in the real world. Bu beware, they will be weird.

18. Leave your Wi-Fi open

19. Seek out your coworkers on Facebook.

20. Exaggerate your salary on your online dating profile.

21. Be mindful of your personal electronic space.

22. There is no such thing as too many friends.

23. Don’t hesitate to haggle on Craigslist.

24. You can reinvent yourself online.

25. Never answer your phone in a movie theater.

26. Don’t work all the time. You will live to regret it.

27. Never unfollow someone just because they unfollowed you.