Windswept Heights

Bye, Blogger

2011-09-07T16:50:00.000-05:00

After almost four years on Blogger, I'm moving my site over to Wordpress. I've been having trouble putting pictures up on Blogger, and this seemed the simplest solution. Please update your subscription lists and/or links, if you use them!

You will find me at Windswept Heights. See you there!

The Story of Stuff

2011-08-04T09:51:00.001-05:00

This is part of the reason that I want to live in Europe, and part of the reason that I kept going back to Africa. It's long, but worth it for the message. So how about that Christmas present draw for only one person? :)

A Decade of Freedom

2011-06-20T22:53:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of my high school graduation. If those aren't words to make one pause and take stock, I don't know what are. For some reason, the "tenth-year reunion" is the most Hollywoodized of all stop-and-look-back moments after being handed a diploma. What have the last ten years meant? How does my life look different now than it did then? What do I have to show for my decade of freedom?

It's the last question that gets asked the most, if only mentally. In asking myself this question over the last few weeks, I've realized that the answer varies wildly depending on my current mood, level of optimism, and external circumstances. Here are the two extremes:

The Spiritual Adventurer

This is the extreme end of the optimistic side. The last decade viewed through these rose-coloured glasses looks something like this:

Although her life may be seen as incomprehensible by some, and a failure by others, this girl knows what she wants, and it's not run-of-the-mill. She is on the hunt for the Adventure of Her Life--the Great Calling that God has Laid on Her. Not for her the minivan, the mortgage on the house in the suburbs, the nine-to-five job and PTA meetings. Rather, this girl opts for sipping tea under a mango tree, answering telephones in France, studying in a library in Toronto, buying presents for nieces on Capitol Hill, and relaxing by a pool in Winnipeg. She is on a quest, which she loosely labels 'missions', to find the niche area in which she might at once be most useful to God and most true to herself. She is unique, independent, brave, adventuresome, and fun-loving. She gathers friends in every corner of the globe and delights in meeting up with them again after long absences. Life offers an endless supply of interest and joy, there for the taking.

Then there's the other end of the spectrum: The Unemployed Dropout

Although knowing that she never wants to 'settle down' in the traditional way, this girl doesn't know quite what she does want. She has tried much of it, with little success: a curtailed missionary attempt in Cameroon, and another in Mali; a linguistic career now left in the past; bits and pieces of languages begun but not learned. Friends left in places around the world, but few or none in any current location. At twenty-eight she is living in her parents' home, unemployed and deeply in debt. A half-finished Masters degree offers some consolation of plans 'when I graduate', all of which are necessarily and comfortably vague. Days are spent staring at a computer screen, playing computer games and hoping for emails from friends who have long since moved on with their lives. This girl has potential, lots of it, but it is left waiting for some unspecified future moment to be fulfilled. Life offered plenty, but she has an unsettling feeling that while she was grasping for it, it slipped irrevocably through her fingers.

Before the reader jumps to react, it must be remembered that these are the two extremes. Because I tend in most cases to be optimistic, my daily outlook on my life veers towards the first interpretation. But on occasion the darker interpretation looms. Much of it depends on how strongly I believe at any given moment that God actually does make sense of our lives, "works for good" as Paul says in Romans. Today, I believe He does.

But even on the darker days, although I may call myself all kinds of crazy fool, I can't regret my decade of freedom.

Grey Unbusyness

2011-06-13T22:23:00.000-05:00

Hi all! I'm back, with apologies for the long silence. Not only has life been relatively quiet, but Blogger has been acting up and I have been too lazy to figure out why. It seems to be behaving better now and hopefully that will continue!

Summer is more than 1/4 over, at least from my perspective. It's been a bit discouraging as summers go; with a decided lack of warm weather and people willing to hire me for the summer. The thought of four months spent job-hunting is rather dismal; and although the break from school is nice, there are only so many Louis L'Amour's I can read before I get restless.

But not all is grim: I have once again had the privilege of welcoming my friends from SIL in Grand Forks up for a weekend! It was not a long time, but definitely a good time. I hope for many more good times with them this summer. Sadly I don't have any pictures yet, since Ilana borrowed my camera for a greater adventure.

And that's about all there is in terms of news. Other anecdotes or pensées may surface in the next 2.5 months that I'm in town. Meanwhile, I must go get my sleep for the (very very very un-busy) day tomorrow... after all, who knows what random adventure may arise at the last minute, and need me refreshed and ready?

Evening Walk

2011-05-23T12:42:00.000-05:00

Out to Ashern in the Springtime

2011-05-15T15:21:00.000-05:00

The Isaacs sisters took a trip out to Ashern yesterday to visit Grandpa and do some gardening, as well as just enjoying springtime in the country. Below are some pictures (the first two were taken earlier):

Raelynn enjoying the Royal Wedding photo.

Grandpa's Burkinabe shirt!

Coffee in town.

Add caption

New Lego!

Grandpa unwrapping a cherry tree sent with love from B.C.

2011-04-12T13:13:00.000-05:00

More birds, in this case sitting on a branch outside my window and entertaining me in my quiet study hours...

2011-04-09T16:28:00.000-05:00

Sunshine and birdsong, and Karen is a happy girl even in exam season.

DC and beyond

2011-04-01T18:22:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe that it's been less than a week since I arrived in, enjoyed, and left D.C. Nancy and I rode 11.5 hours on a bus each way--long, but doable. And it provided us with two full days (and some hours) to enjoy D.C. and Kevin and Jerrod's company.

This week has been frantic trying to stay on top of end-of-term stuff. We presented the second six chapters of Revelation in a dramatized reading on Tuesday--which involved me being all seven angels since I was the only one with a horn!

Now I'm in a coffee shop--on a Friday night--hoping to get some solid studying in. Oh, what depths our lives sink to at the end of term! The saddest part is that with some hefty decisions ahead of me regarding summer courses, I don't even have a final count-down date for when I'll be finished. (All prayers for wisdom welcome and appreciated.)

Oh yeah, and if you know of a job that would suit me perfectly for the summer, please let me know!

My roles: Angel to the church of Smyrna, the living creature with the face of a calf, and all seven angels with trumpets.

My Political Position

2011-03-31T10:56:00.000-05:00

..although I confess I was sadly humbled by my ignorance on many factors. To find out your own position, clicking on the photo will take you to the CBC VoteCompass site.

A Taste of Spring

2011-03-30T09:26:00.000-05:00

As I've been rather frantically busy since I got back from DC late Monday evening, I haven't had time to put up a proper blog. But here are a few pictures to give you a taste of what the weekend was like: friends, food, fellowship, and flowers!

It was the Cherry Blossom Festival in DC, but the magnolia blossoms were also out!

Lots of laughter!

And lots of blossoms!

SO good to see my friends again!

"This is Jerrod Sharp, reporting live from in front of the Jefferson Memorial..."

Blahs and Bright Spots

2011-03-21T22:25:00.000-05:00

I love this building, and how it reflects so much of what's going on around it.

Despite the warmth and length of the days, or perhaps because of it, I find myself feeling more homesick these days. Ready for the familiar sights of Winnipeg, and for family and friends. Soon enough.

Things are heating up as the end of term approaches. This week I and my friends have been beating our brains over an exegetical paper comparing the Christologies of Heb 1:1-4 and Phil 2:5-11. The way you felt as you read that last sentence is the way we feel approaching this assignment: but our grades rely on it. And so we force ourselves to do it, and try to do it well. And learn in the process.

Despite the general weariness of end-of-term assignments, however, there are bright spots. I and a few friends found some moments to play Dutch Blitz tonight, our go-to stress reliever! And I have taken to escaping the College and studying at a local Timothy's, which has been a blessing. And this weekend I and a friend get to go to Washington, D.C. to visit more friends! Although it's a long bus ride (a good 11+ hours), thanks to Megabus the round trip cost a total of $4.50 (note the period there), so no complaints (plus there is WiFi the whole way)! It'll be great to get away from Toronto and experience D.C. in the midst of their Cherry Blossom Festival, as well as see Jerrod and Kevin. I'll come back with pictures.

Other bright spots: I finally found the time to go to Sanctuary for church on Sunday evening. Sanctuary is a local drop-in centre that a friend goes to often to help out at, and I was very unsure what to expect in a service. But it was packed, lively, and fabulous, with excellent (professional quality) music, friendly people, and a good sermon. Definitely the most alive church I've been at in Toronto...

Finally, tomorrow evening (and next Tuesday too) I and a group of people are presenting a dramatized reading of Revelation. I am one of the four living creatures, all seven trumpet-blowers, and the angel of the church of Smyrna. Entertaining!

The Testimony of the Five Visions

2011-03-11T22:21:00.000-06:00

My favourite assignment of the term, perhaps of the entire year: write the story of Jesus in the book of Hebrews. As follows...

Prologue

The woman’s steps were heavy as she walked down the dusty road in the mid-day heat. Although she and her family had converted to Christianity several years before, the troubles surrounding them were pressing ever thicker, causing her and her husband to wonder if they had made the right choice. How did they know whether this Jesus of Nazareth was all that they had heard? Yes, for a while it felt ‘right’—the load of guilt she had been carrying had disappeared; the freedom and joy she had felt were incredible. But that had faded, and with the rumours of persecution becoming more frequent, it was worth considering whether what they had chosen was, in fact, worth it or even necessary. Weren’t there other, better ways of pleasing God? Didn’t the prophets speak directly from God in the past, and show the Jews how to please Him? Weren’t angels His divine messengers? Wasn’t Moses called God’s friend? Why bother with this Jesus, who could just be the latest in a long line of messengers, who was called a priest but wasn’t even from the priestly line of Aaron? Didn’t the old system work perfectly well for the Jewish people?

“Well, what of it?” the accuser sneered at Him. “You’ve heard the charges. What makes You so special?”

Rather than replying, the Man with the scars waited. A booming voice announced: “To the charge of being superfluous to the prophets[1], I call the First Vision.” Immediately images flashed before the accuser’s eyes. Galaxies of light swirling into shape, planets thrust into existence, creation pulsing and vibrating with life. Stars bursting into harmonic chorus about the Son their Creator, through whom they had their being. [2] Dolphins played and flowers bloomed and foals pranced about their mothers. The accuser cowered before the beauty of it all, and was silenced.

The Voice continued. “To the charge of being superfluous to the angels[3], I call the Second Vision.” The sky darkened, and pinpricks of stars appeared. Silence spread, with only the soft lowing of sheep to be heard. The cry of a newborn broke the silence, and before the accuser could locate it, the sky was lit up with multitudes of angels, all clearly overjoyed, singing and shouting and bowing before the newborn baby.[4] The scene shifted as the angels, fiery and beautiful themselves,[5] knelt before a throne upon which the Son, infinitely more glorious than they, sat ruling at the right hand of the Father.[6] The accuser looked from the lesser beauty of the angels to the unbearable brightness of the Son on his throne, and was silenced.

“To the charge of being superfluous to Moses[7], I call the Third Vision.” The accuser looked upon a simple scene of domesticity. A servant knelt before the fireplace building the fire for the Master, who smiled at him. Clearly they enjoyed a warm relationship, despite their difference in status. A moment later the door opened and the Son of the house came in, laughing with the Master of the house as he related the events of the day. He too grinned at the servant. As the scene faded into darkness, the accuser trembled at his folly in attempting to portray the servant as greater than the Son, and was silenced. [8]

The Voice grew deeper. “To the charge of laying false claim to the priestly line,[9] I call the Fourth Vision.” A cloud of dust followed the weary men tramping down a valley road under the beating sun. In the distance behind them birds of prey circled over a scene of recent battle. But approaching them was a man, clearly a priest and a king from his garments and followers. He presented the leader of the weary men with bread and wine, and they were refreshed. And when they had eaten and were rested, the priest-king laid his hands upon the leader’s head and blessed him.[10] When he had done so, the leader, clearly a great man in his own right, took a tenth of the spoils and humbly offered them to the priest-king, who took them.[11] The scene grew smaller and faded until only the priest-king remained before the accuser’s eyes. The accuser now recognized him: the one they called Melchizedek, whose significance became clear to the accuser. Not of Levi’s line, yet having been given a tithe by the father of Levi’s line,[12] without genealogy, and clothed in priestly garments identical to those upon whom the accusations were now being laid, he was the precursor to a new order of priests.[13] The accuser looked from Melchizedek in his priestly robes to the Son in his, and was silenced.

The accuser knew that the fight was lost, but still the Voice continued. “To the final charge of the superfluity of a new system in light of an already working system,[14] I call the Fifth Vision.” With great ceremony a knife stabbed down and a bull breathed its last, its lifeblood spilling over the altar. The people, calmed and reassured, left the Temple. But to the accuser’s eyes it was but seconds later that they returned and the same thing happened again, and again, and again. The people kept returning, over and over and over, leaving only to return again. The slain bodies of the bulls and goats piled higher and higher, and still it was not enough.[15] It would never be enough, but it was all they had, and so they came back. Priest succeeded priest,[16] bull succeeded bull, and nothing ever changed. But then the scene darkened and the accuser knew that he would have to face again what he had, at the time, thought his greatest hour. The sky was black and menacing, the people afraid. Three men were hanging on crosses. The one in the center gave a loud cry as he died, and the curtain separating the people from the Holy of Holies tore from top to bottom. The accuser watched helplessly as people now streamed directly into the Father’s presence.[17] The despair in which he had kept them trapped had vanished, and the evidence of their clean consciences was written in the joy on their faces.[18] The accuser writhed as the joy of the Saints burned into his eyes like fire, but still he could not escape. The Voice had not yet finished with him.[19]

“The five charges brought against the Son have been answered in full. Him who has been acquitted, let no one accuse again.” With a wail the accuser was finally let go to return to his lair, where he lay, nursing his wounds and biding his time for the next attack.

Epilogue

The letter, when it arrived, might have been written especially for the woman. The dark accusations and fears that had lingered for so long were dispelled by the beautiful imagery of the supremacy of Christ and his perfect sacrifice, the faith of those gone before, and the strength for life that was available to her as a result of these things. With a light heart she returned down the dusty road, ready to share the hope that she had been given with those who still walked in darkness.

[1] Hebrews 1:1-2

[2] 1:1

[3] 1:4

[4] 1:6

[5] 1:7

[6] 1:7-9, 13

[7] 3:3

[8] 3:5-6

[9] 7:13-14

[10] 7:1

[11] 7:2

[12] 7:6-10

[13] 7:15-17

[14] 7:11-12

[15] 10:4

[16] 7:23

[17] 10:19-20

[18] 10:22

[19] 10:31

Ashes to Ashes

2011-03-09T18:51:00.000-06:00

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.

Today we entered into the season of Lent. It has been an interesting day, with a visiting bishop explaining the historical practice of Lent, and then the community gathering for a service where we were marked with ashes in the shape of a cross on each of our foreheads. This is standard practice in mainstream churches, and although I was aware of the tradition and have been actively observing Lent for many years, I have never attended such an Ash Wednesday service until now.

Thus the period of darkness begins.

But for most people at Wycliffe College, the period of darkness began several months ago. We have been in a season of Lent, of mourning, of darkness and sadness since shortly after Christmas. Multiple deaths in our community and among our loved ones have caused a spirit of heaviness to rest on the College. A friend remarked today that she's glad this didn't happen last term, as it would have given us a very warped view of what the College is like. Pneumonia, heart attacks, cancer, and injustice have taken their toll, and it is a heavy one.

But ironically enough, the fact that we are just now entering into a season of darkness is not for us more reason to mourn, but a sign of hope: this is for a limited period, and at the end of it there will be feasting. And it means more than that. It is the Church acknowledging that there is darkness, and sadness, and depression. The Alleluias are put away, hidden in a box. There will be no false rejoicing in this season, just a bare recognition that life hurts, that we are mortal, that pain is real. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

But at the end of it there is the hope of resurrection, and that is the beauty of Lent, and the reason that we are able to put away the Alleluias and to mourn as a College without succombing to despair. There is light at the end of this tunnel, and it is not so long after all.

A great ring of pure and endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.

When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life and death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure and endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.

-Madeleine L'Engle

The Sticky Lock

2011-03-07T15:42:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I looked out my bedroom window and saw the beauty of the sun on the buildings. So I grabbed my camera and headed for better vantage points. In this case, it ended up being my friend Nancy's room. Realizing I could get an even better view from my friend Sarah's room, I got her key (she was going out) and tried to unlock her door.

What she hadn't informed me was that her lock is sticky. VERY sticky. To the point that, before I knew it, I was holding half a key in my hand, the other half being still in the lock.

Oops.

Sarah had gone out for dinner, and so I knew I had an hour to an hour and a half to fix this mess so that she would be able to get into her room by the time she got back. However, that was wishful thinking, and it took the Resident Don calling the building's maintenance man from his home 45 minutes away to come and drill through the lock. When that didn't work, he sawed through the bolt, filling the residence with the sounds of drills and saws for a couple of hours. Curious guys filtered occasionally upstairs to the girls' floor to see what all the ruckus was about. I felt sheepish.

So much for having it fixed before Sarah got home, and her knowing nothing about it.

On the other hand, she now has an un-sticky lock!

Spring Break II : Ski Trip in NY

2011-03-01T16:25:00.000-06:00

An hour or so after Julie left a few of us hopped into a car and drove down to our friends the Meeks' place in Caneadea, NY (two hours from Buffalo) to spend the weekend and get in some skiing.

Cherith and I heading up the slopes. We were evenly matched skiers, which always makes for a great time!

The first time I've tried night skiing, and a lot of fun (besides being cheap!)!

Bristol Mountain: a very decent hill, all things considered. 2000 ft, and at least one 3-mile run that I know of.

The weekend also involved lots of games: especially telepictionary, our favourite (and the funniest!).

We were out in the country away from civilization, surrounded by rolling snow-covered hills: lovely!

On Sunday we worked hard making a sled run, which turned out pretty good.

And a snowman and his wife...

Yeah she's pretty ugly.

Also entertaining was an elastic-band war that was ongoing.

...and sometimes got rather intense!

The group of us, ready to feast on some steaks.

Spring Break I : Julie's Visit

2011-03-01T16:12:00.000-06:00

So Julie and I had a lovely three days (plus a few odd hours) touring Toronto and catching up on sister-time. Here are some pics from our time:

Julie looking lovely in the Danforth (Greektown)

Dancing to some great music in a great candy shop

The cool Sobey's in Craig and Rocío's building

Chicken molé, courtesy of Rocío: YUM!

Window reflection fun

On our way to St Lawrence Market

Random building, pretty cool

The market

Beer sampling at the Steam Whistle Brewery: "Canada's Premium Pilsner!"

The freshest beer we've ever tasted, being 8 minutes off the assembly line!

Pretty cool process to watch!

It was a great time and I'm sad to be once again sister-less in this city!

Toronto City Pics

2011-02-21T18:28:00.002-06:00

And the Days Go By

2011-02-16T20:17:00.000-06:00

Robin and me and a semi-frozen Lake Ontario

Life's been busy and rather chaotic at the college lately. On Friday one of our chefs died suddenly of a heart attack, leaving us all in shock--he was well loved by all. This has occupied our thoughts and our time as we've been buying flowers, arranging a memorial service, (for me) singing in said service, etc.

Other things have been more fun. I trekked down to the waterfront on Saturday morning with two other residents here, Allison and Robin (Robin pictured above) for a crêpe breakfast--lovely! I've also been doing salsa dance lessons with Tom (another resident). Volleyball's been fun but not very successful in terms of wins lately; the same with inner tube water polo.

Reading Week is just around the corner--next week--and Julie's coming to visit! It will be a lovely three full days of enjoying my sister's company. After that I'll be heading down to Buffalo, NY, to do a bit of skiing with some friends. Good times ahead, and I'm definitely ready for the break!

2011-02-14T22:41:00.000-06:00

Normally I'm busy, but not overwhelmingly so. Tomorrow, however, my schedule is thus:

6:45 - gym (if I don't bail last minute)
8:00 - breakfast
8:30 - chapel
9-10:30 - band practice
11-1 - class
1-2 - Preaching Club (I'm preaching)
2-4 - class
6:00 - supper
7:30-9:30 - inner tube water polo
10:00 - Compline

And the "feels like -17" creeps into my bones. Oh February, end thou and leave me in peace. Warm peace.

Video from At Home

2011-02-07T19:28:00.001-06:00

Here's the video of the gargoyle presentation from Friday night. It's good fun! The music is the "Wycliffe Hymn"; the mask that Principal Sumner is wearing is a picture of the gargoyle (he wasn't allowed to see it before he put it on); and on the screen behind you'll see a picture of his head slowly morphing into a picture of the gargoyle--which he also couldn't see. Doing the presentation (in order of speaking) is Sarah, Nancy, me, Dave, Rachel (our Senior Student), and Sarah again.

2011-02-06T08:32:00.000-06:00

More photos of the At Home, all but the first courtesy of Randy Greve:

Teaser photos

2011-02-05T15:04:00.000-06:00

I'm hoping to put up a video of the gargoyle presentation soon, but meanwhile here are a few photos of the At Home party, with more to come as they become available (most photos courtesy of Randy Greve):

Two of my faves: Kenneth and Robert

Two mysterious women: who are they?

Nancy, Randy, Sarah: I love these people!

And some more I love: Allison and Justine (with Laura hidden)

Our Principal apparently enjoyed being presented with a gargoyle of himself!

Last fall we (being me and a few others) found out that our Principal has always harboured a secret desire to have a gargoyle of himself. So we raised the funds from the student body (very easy to raise funds for a gargoyle!) and ordered it from a gargoyle-maker in England. It was created, shipped, arrived on time (despite the snowstorm!), and duly presented last night with an accompanying poem to great acclamation.

Nancy's reaction at... something. Not sure what. And lovely Joanna!

Snow in Toronto!!

2011-02-02T14:04:00.000-06:00

I've been enjoying (and been slightly bemused!) by the strong reaction to the "huge blizzard" we've been having... This sums it up excellently!

Prepping for 'At Home'

2011-01-31T08:55:00.000-06:00

This Friday is the annual 'At Home' formal dinner and dance put on for Wycliffe students and residents. We're having quite a bit of fun preparing for this event. Since the theme is Mardi Gras (yes, a wee bit early!), we are encouraged to make and bring masks. Below are some pictures of the mask that I made on Saturday night.

A Good-Lookin' Term

2011-01-26T11:34:00.000-06:00

Sorry folks, text with no pictures is no fun (as any child knows). But I've been neglecting my camera lately.

It's shaping up to be a fun term. After a sad cancellation of our ballroom dance class due to lack of numbers, there have been found several other amusements to keep us busy:

1) Volleyball, on Monday nights... unfortunately we've been placed in Division 1--ie, out of my league!--so I'll play only when they need more girls.

2) Inner Tube Water Polo... I kno, rite?? How awesome is that? My friend Joanna happens to have played for 4 years in undergrad, and so is captain of our new team, which plays its first game tonight!

3) Salsa / Cha-cha Dancing... not guaranteed yet, but a possible substitute for ballroom.

4) Add to that list chapel music, Compline, Student Council, gym, and many rounds of Dutch Blitz, and I'm a busy girl!

And yes, there is time for schoolwork amidst all that. I haven't actually added activities, and with one less course I *should* be able to balance things well!

Coming soon: the At Home, our formal dinner and dance that will happen in a week and a half. It actually is formal, too, which doubles the fun--I get to pull out an evening gown! Adding to the fun will be a special presentation to our principal coordinated by me and a few other students, which I won't mention here because it is still a deep dark secret, but it will be GREAT!

And so, life goes on at Wycliffe College, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, Earth...

2011-01-15T17:46:00.000-06:00

I don't know whether it is the death of a good friend's dad this week that is weighing so heavily on me, but I feel very like Frodo in the years after he returned from Mordor, on the anniversaries of his deepest injuries--all the sadness I have known wells up in me, building on itself and aching for release that does not come. Today, the world is a sad place.

Non-Conformity

2011-01-11T20:06:00.000-06:00

It seems that no matter where I go or what I do, I am doomed to non-conformity. In this college, that takes several forms. One is that I come from a Mennonite, as opposed to a mainstream church background. But to make this more unusual, I often attend an Anglican church, finding that I love both traditions. When it comes to my program, I've been jokingly labelled an 'MTS.Div' student--while I am technically an MTSD student (Master of Theological Studies in Development), not an M.Div student (on track for ordination), I find that I often have far more in common with the M.Divs than with my fellow MTSDs, and my course choices reflect that. I know I'm in the 'right' program for me--M.Div would definitely NOT be right--but my non-conformist tradition dictates that I shape it to who I am, rather than shaping myself to what it is. A good question would be, how far should I be taking all of this personalizing--at what point is conformity called for?

This makes for very confusing times, as well as very interesting ones, and a lifetime of guaranteed not 'fitting in'. I never was very good at that anyways.

Birthday and Cottage Fun

2011-01-11T16:48:00.000-06:00

These pictures got put up in the wrong order, so the first three are of my birthday celebrations at the Duke of York pub last night. About twenty people came out, and a good time seems to have been had by all.

This weekend to celebrate being back in Toronto-land with friends and no schoolwork I headed up to a cottage with eight other people. It was about a three-hour drive, but times goes quickly when you're with friends! It was everything a cottage weekend should be--chill, relaxed, warm, friendly, fun, full of friends and food and laughter.

Maybe not always NICE to our friends... this is how we woke Rob (on the bottom) up in the morning.

The girls.

The Lake.

Snow Angel shenannigans.

Adrienne, Deanne, Cindy. Cindy and Adrienne are leaving for a 4-month internship in Costa Rica this Saturday.. they'll be missed!

Lots of snowball fights and facewashes!

... and some very good food!

The Dutch word 'gezellig' sums it up perfectly.

End of Term!

2010-12-16T10:50:00.000-06:00

It's the end of term, and I'll be home tomorrow!

In the last couple of weeks...

50 double-spaced pages' worth of essays done.

Spontaneous stress-relieving snowball fight a 'hit'.

Many hundreds of pages read.

New ways were learned to procrastinate.

Many dollars' worth of junk food consumed in the writing process.

More spontaneous pub nights than since the beginning of term.

Many episodes of White Collar watched in the wee hours.

Few trips to the gym.

And much joy was had by all!

So fascinating!

2010-12-08T08:57:00.000-06:00

I'm two papers down, and three papers to go before I'm free to come home. The most exciting for me is a paper I'm writing for my Forging the Kingdom (International Development) course. We were given the relaxed order to 'find a topic relating to development and write on it'. The topic that I eventually landed on is "Female Genital Mutilation and the Missionary Crisis in Kenya in 1930."

That's a mouthful but it's a fascinating topic. FGM, which is now condemned worldwide by the WHO and other lead organizations as violating human rights, is and for many years has been widely practiced in many tribes. In the 1920s in Kenya the missionaries got wind of this and tried to forcefully stop it, which resulted in a mass exodus of Kenyans from their church and permanent damage to their mission, as well as the death of one missionary.

It was a sensitive cultural issue and the missionaries likely did not handle it at all well. But what's interesting is that at the time, the Kenyan government did not back up the missionaries, and the missionaries have been condemned for 'destroying culture' in that and other examples. Now, however, there is worldwide consent that this practice must be stopped. So essentially the missionaries were 'right' (in the eyes of the world today) in what they were trying to do, but possibly very wrong in how they went about doing it.

My job is to examine all of these factors and put them together into some cohesive framework. I'm delighted because I've found 155 pages online of files of government and missionary letters and memos from the time, all archived! Some handwritten, some typed, some typed with handwritten notes beside. It's a WONDERFUL resource.

What makes all of this more interesting is that the exodus of the Kikuyu from the missionary church fed into the Kenyan nationalist spirit and the independent churches of Kenya, which in turn may have fostered the Mau Mau rebellion that led to the independence of Kenya from Britain! So these actions of the missionaries may have had way more far-reaching effects than they ever imagined. I won't have time or room to get into all that, but it would be fascinating! For the first time I've undertaken an essay that I would happily turn into a doctoral thesis of some sort!

Meanwhile, the cramming goes on. Home in nine days!!!

The Wonderful World of Wycliffia

2010-12-05T22:22:00.001-06:00

The Christmas talent show: Twas the Night Before Christmas

In which Luther, Calvin and Zwingli stand off against the Pope and his Bishop, only to be reconciled by a Little Girl
And yes, we were drinking real beer. Why bother with fake props when Newcastle Brown is so much better?

Practicing

We've got a great principal, willing to dress up as the Grinch to make his students laugh!

Toronto randomness: these cars were parked on our street for a night and a day. I missed a pic of the FBI van though.

For Your (and my) Refreshment

2010-11-28T20:07:00.000-06:00

Being too tired/unfocussy to concentrate on the (admittedly interesting) John Wesley book I should be studying, I will instead chronicle the very pleasant small-world story I ran into today: the story of two intertwined families.

Years ago, there was a couple named Anthony and Marion Isaacs, who attended Church of the Way, in Winnipeg. Also attending the church was a young couple who were interested in going into the ministry. The Isaacs, my grandparents, endorsed this desire, going so far as to pledge $10/month in support of this young couple as they made their way through seminary in Montreal.

Fast-forward twenty or thirty years, to this morning when I accompanied my friend Robert at his invitation to the church at which he interns. I knew no one at this church, and Robert was somewhat concerned that while he was busy with priestly things I would be at a loss for someone to talk to. Fortunately, that turned out to not be the case, as the first person I met in this church was a priest who, as it turns out, was the former priest at St Aiden's Church in Winnipeg, the very church my sister currently attends.

Small world, and fun enough to come across--we discovered a few common acquaintances, and went our separate ways.

Meanwhile, this priest's sister, Mary, was visiting for the week from the city of Winnipeg. We exchanged pleasantries and moved on. After the service during a coffee hour we had more time to chat. Fairly quickly the question came up... "Is your dad a doctor?" I had to laugh, because very often in Winnipeg do we bump into some person or other who was a patient of my dad's. But Toronto? Sure enough, this lovely lady had been his patient, and was extremely sad when he retired, saying that they have discovered since what a treasure it had been to have someone treat them as real people. But then she went on. "I saw your picture in his office... In fact, I've prayed for you!"

As it turned out, one of Mary's appointments had taken place last winter just after my dad had gotten off the phone with me. I had been distressed, and his concern for me had apparently shown on his face when she arrived for her appointment. Upon hearing about me far away in Africa, she decided to pray for me.

Months later on a random Sunday in November we both happen to attend the same church service of the same church of Toronto, where we discover this connection. Mary told me a story of a lady who had committed to pray for her and her siblings for her entire life. She had seen the effects of these prayers in her life, she said, and then stunned me by making the same commitment to me, that she would be that lady in my life, who would be praying for me. We'll be reconnecting at some point when I'm back in Winnipeg to go out for coffee and get to know each other better.

After all of that I (still blown away by these developments) was talking with the priest's wife, and discovered that it had been my grandparents, years earlier, that had helped to pay for their education into the priesthood!

Small-world stories are not unheard of--I have a few doozies myself. But to have discovered two unconnected stories, involving the same two families, in a little church in Toronto on the First Sunday in Advent, was a treat indeed.

Existential Crisis

2010-11-23T18:26:00.000-06:00

What I did not realize before entering grad school was that on or around November 15 (and stretching some weeks) one is obligated to have an existential crisis involving such questions as 'Who am I?'; 'Why am I here?'; 'What possessed me to think I belong in grad school?'; and other similar such questions. It is reassuring that this crisis is so common as to be practically built into the curriculum; but at the same time not very reassuring that it is so common! At least one knows that based on others' experience, this too shall pass and it is not, in fact, necessary to drop out of school and live in a van down by the river.

In other musings, David Widdicombe is here this week and is teaching a class just down the hall at the moment. I attended a tutorial for a class I do not belong to, just to hear him talk about good old St Margaret's. Good to have a taste of home!

Insights from the Past -- Mali Revisited

2010-11-16T15:36:00.005-06:00

Someone said today that hindsight is 20/20. In some things that may be true, but many times I think it takes a long time to become clear, if ever. But in rare, beautiful cases, something puzzling at the time may become obvious later on.

I was thinking over my time in Mali today, and how one of the large reasons I went was to be able to experience Africa from the ground level if possible—to know how Africans live their daily lives, to see it not from the eyes of a white foreigner (usually put on a pedestal of sorts), but as “one of them”.

I know that’s impossible to do completely, but if there ever was a venue for it, it would be YWAM Africa. There, students are equal and are treated as such, regardless of skin colour. Certainly I had more material goods and resources than the other students, but when it came to food, work, or how I was treated by the leaders, that didn’t matter. I ate the same, I got the same amount of sleep, I got up at 5:30 am with them to cook breakfast over a fire or draw water from the well to water the plants.

At the time, I found this intensely frustrating. Why couldn’t they see that as a Westerner I wasn’t used to all this work, to the way of life—that I needed more sleep, more space? That by nature of where I was from and how I was raised I deserved a few breaks? That, for example, Christmas was more important to me in my tradition than it was to my fellow students, and therefore I should be the exception to the rule, should be allowed to do what I want?

It has taken me until now to state my underlying resentments clearly, to see that although I wanted the experience of being treated the same in theory, in practice I thought that I as a Westerner deserved differently.

To be fair, this wasn’t always the case—I wasn’t always resentful. There were some people who were treated differently—our visiting lecturers. Be they black or white, they were always given a nicer table (with a tablecloth!), juice, meat, and often fresh fruit. How longingly I stared at that table, and wished to be there with them, eating those wonderful things that I was used to! But I as a student ‘equal’ to my fellow students was seated at the lower place, feeding on rice.

And I realize that it has also taken me until now to recognize that what I felt, there, was what many people in the world feel as they stare up at the tables of the global North. Not resentment necessarily—I certainly didn’t resent our lecturers. Envy, definitely, but mixed with an understanding that somehow they deserved better by right of who they were. I was in my 'rightful place' and so were they… and I waited for scraps from their table to be passed down to me, or even better, a call to join them where they were.

And suddenly, in the clarity of hindsight, lingering resentment over 'missing Christmas' fades away, to be replaced by gratitude at the understanding of a lesson taught at a far deeper level than I once thought.

To clarify: I most definitely do not endorse the idea that some people 'deserve' more than others. But for the first time I realize that I have lived out this thought from the other side. So now when I read a statement in my textbook like the following, I can understand more deeply to what he is referring.

"The poor come to believe that they are and were always meant to be without value and without gifts... Internalization of poverty and the messages of non-value from the non-poor and social systems result in what Augustine Musopole calls a poverty of being. When [they] accept their marred identity and their distorted sense of vocation as normative and immutable, their poverty is complete"(Myers, p.76).

(Quotation taken from "Walking With the Poor" by Bryant L. Myers, 1999)

Great is Thy Faithfulness

2010-11-15T21:38:00.000-06:00

It's been a bit of a lonely week over here in Toronto-land... not extraordinarily so, just with the mild realization that I miss the companionship of my family and friends back home. There are wonderful people here, and some that I'm starting to love a lot, but it's easy to let schoolwork and busyness grab hold of us so that day flows into night flows into day without any real personal conversation.

This evening in chapel we sang "Great is Thy Faithfulness", and although I've sung this song a thousand times, one line stood out to me: "All I have needed Thy hand hath provided." I love that this is past tense--He's already provided all of what I have needed. I heard that thought and logged it away, because it feels like there's so much that I need here: balance, quietness, help with schoolwork, companionship. Tonight, God abundantly provided for that deeper fellowship that I needed, and in doing so, He has reminded me that all of my other needs have been taken care of, too. Great, indeed, is His faithfulness!

"Before they call, I will answer; and while they are still speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24

Another Short Thought From My Missional Theology Class

2010-11-12T09:43:00.000-06:00

In all of Paul's letters to the churches, he is focused on the spiritual integrity of the church, and not once does he talk about how to grow the churches, have a good outreach program, or attract more people to church.

2010-11-08T22:28:00.000-06:00

The Wycliffe Lollards, after our last (disastrous!) game on Wednesday. We may not have been very successful at winning, but we had fun!

'Tis the Season (almost)!

2010-11-07T08:54:00.002-06:00

I had to remember how to make paper snowflakes again, successfully I think!

A Short Thought From My Missional Theology Class

2010-11-03T18:18:00.001-05:00

The Great Commission from Matt 28:16-20 has no mention of Jesus saying that we are to preach his death and resurrection, only his commands. Chew on it.

I survived reading week...

2010-10-31T22:32:00.001-05:00

...but barely! I guess I know what grad school means now: Reading Week is no longer "A Week Off for Fun and Games".

I did get to go to a cottage for the first weekend, but since then it's been about 9 hours per day in the library, writing essays and studying. To put that in perspective, by adding together the worth of all the assignments due next week that I finished this week, I wrote papers totaling over 100% of my final grades (50% essay, 25% essay, 15% assignment, 20% presentation, etc). What's more, I found myself looking forward to the 'break' of going back to classes. Yikes!

Having finished all that yesterday, today I went to H&M and bought a hat. Definitely worth it.

School

2010-10-26T18:05:00.001-05:00

I don't know if I've talked at all about my courses on here, but I don't think so. If this is repeat information, forgive me and skip it!

I spent nine hours studying in a library today. A few of us loaded our bags with books and computers this morning, and set up camp. It's a very productive way of working, albeit tiring! I'm in the middle of Reading Week (yes, we get one in the fall here as well as spring... it's a Toronto School of Theology thing, not a U of T thing). My profs all piled on heavy assignments due next week however, and so rather than being less stressed, I'm more stressed: and that won't end until 1pm a week from Friday!

Meanwhile, I love it. I love being stressed about school, I love being in school again, I love studying and having to read heavy theological books and write papers about things I don't know. I'm writing a paper for my Ethics of Wealth and Poverty course on the early Anabaptist (ie, Mennonite etc) movement and how they responded to wealth and poverty, and how that relates to what the Bible says about it. It's great stuff, and I'm learning far more about my heritage as a Mennonite than I ever knew!

I have a lot of catch up to do here. I played hangman the other day with a guy who used the name Pelagius. He assured me I would know it. I didn't, but I do now! (Pelagius was a 4th century guy who went up against Augustine on some important matters.) I'm constantly running into little things like that, that to most people here come as naturally as breathing. I remind them that I'm only a month into theological seminary (although that won't last long!).

My program, the Master of Theological Studies in Development (MTSD), is the first of its kind that I know of. We had a lady from the Anglican Journal come interview a few of us the other day because of that Its emphasis on both theology and development, and how they relate to each other, is fascinating and I find it hard to believe that it hasn't been done before this! I'm taking a course called Forging the Kingdom, which is basically an intro to International Development, from a Christian perspective and taught by a guy from World Vision. It's a great course and I've been learning a ton about the history of development, the issues behind poverty and development work, etc.

Eight to nine hours of studying in one day makes for a tired brain, so I'm going to wrap this up and go watch a show or something (like Dutch Blitz in the common room at 8:30). Hard to believe that I'm already 1/8 done my program... and sad!

À bientôt...

PS -- One year ago today I landed in Bamako airport, Mali!

There Once Was a Lake Named Limerick...

2010-10-25T22:07:00.001-05:00


Limerick Lake

Boat-access only!

Canoeing was fun.

As was hiking through the woods, and across little bridges.

... passing random Chipmunk Crossing signs (way out in the boonies!).

The guys looking explorer-ish.

A couple of the kayaks... I had a third, smaller, tippier one, which ended up getting half run over by the boat.
I quickly abandoned ship as water poured in and soaked my feet.

All in all, a good time way out in the middle of Ontarian nowhere! This was apparently 'the North', despite it being well below the 49th parallel. Eight of us drove 3+ hours to get out there, arriving in the dark on Friday night, and leaving in the rain on Sunday afternoon. It was a fun and interesting time!

Annual Fall Country Carnival and Jamboree

2010-10-17T10:44:00.002-05:00

The Annual Fall Country Carnival and Jamboree is one of two big parties that Wycliffe throws each year, the other being the 'At-Home' held in January. It was run and organized by the Social Committee and the Missions Committee (since proceeds raised went to the Missions Committee), neither of which I am on, but since I am part of the Student Council my job was to dress up, help decorate and run the booths, and stay for clean-up.

It was fabulous fun! We hired a caller for the square dance, and had various booths set up including face painting, 'pin the 'stache on the Carny', a ring toss, pumpkin carving, and other delights. I was up until about 1 the night before helping to make candied apples and caramel corn, which we had for sale. There was also the Great Texas Chili Cook-Off between two of our Texan students, Nancy and Randy. Nancy's chili won although I personally voted for Randy's. Apparently this is a REALLY big deal in Texas, and a lot of rivalry went into the event!

Below are some pics of the fun evening.

Slow dancing with Judah. He's a sweetie!

Allison and I manning the candied apples booth.

Rob as a carny, manning the ring toss.

Dave taking pics.

The Great Texas Chili Cook-off: Nancy vs Randy!

Sonia face-painting Arianna.

Yes, the first dance was the macarena.

Lots of plaid! I went to Value Village for my ensemble.

Dancing with the carny.

Rob, Kenneth, and Sarah, having a good time!

The College

2010-10-15T23:14:00.001-05:00

The College

The bookstore

Leonard Hall window (where I have class)

Hart House, next door to Wycliffe

Leonard Hall

Wycliffe College

Wycliffe front door

Bedroom

Bedroom window

Front hall

Girls' floor hallway

Ambulatory (?) leading to the chapel

Refectory

Reading Room

That's all for now. Coming soon: pictures from the Annual Fall Country Carnival and Jamboree!

A Few More Thanksgiving Pics

2010-10-12T22:20:00.001-05:00

Loaded table!

At a Queens vs U of T game: Alex, me, Andrea, Tony

I was cheering for Queens, which was just as well, because they won 66-0.

And each time they scored, the cheerleaders had to do the equivalent (cumulative) amount of points in pushups!

Andrea scored a rather nice bike for a decent price off Alex, who's going back to Germany.

Looking lovely by the lakeside.

The 'awkward' photo

Plenty of wine to accompany the excellent food!

And some great stuffing to go in the duck (Tony put sausage in the stuffing, new to me but fabulous!).

Autumn Colours

2010-10-12T16:05:00.001-05:00

Autumn colours

Being strapped for time, here in a nutshell are some of the beautiful colours I got to experience this weekend! I'll put up more pictures later.

I like... volleyball??

2010-10-07T06:59:00.001-05:00

My picture for the student council board.

So you all know there are many extracurricular activities going on around here. Sports, music, student council (to which I am elected 1st Year Rep), pub nights... the list goes on. What I did not expect when I got here was to sign up for volleyball. However, being a co-ed team, they were short for girls, and the team captain, Dave, earnestly pleaded with me (okay, more like a 'you want to play?' thing) to join. Since my childhood I have had a passionate and active dislike for the game, due to lingering trauma over not being on the cool girls' volleyball team and all that that entailed. So I thought, what if I can change this dislike, through playing with a nice group of people? And so I signed up.

It was FUN. The Wycliffe Lollards had their first game last night from 10 - 11 pm, against some other U of T team (dentistry perhaps??). We lost the first match 22-25, but after that we consistently won the next three matches, and had a blast doing it! We have a range of talent on our team, and surprisingly I'm not the worst one out there (there are one or two who have never played)--plus, I'm a very consistent server. But what I realized is that I have believed a lie for so long--that I can never love volleyball, and that I will always be worthless at it. Those are lies, and they've caused me misery for a long time, but no more. I'm now part of the Wycliffe Lollards Inter-mural volleyball team, and I'm glad!

(The Wycliffe Lollards: so named because the followers of John Wycliffe, after whom the college is named, were called lollards. Wikipedia tells me that it was originally a derogative name given (ironically) to those without an academic background, and came more generally to mean heretic. Either way, I like it.)

Wine & Cheese

2010-10-02T09:22:00.001-05:00

Wine & cheese party on a Friday night, dress up optional... fun times!

Justine. We laugh a lot together.

Ada, Joanna and me -- The Ladies in Black.

Life at an Anglican College

2010-09-29T18:36:00.001-05:00

A bit about life here....

An Anglican college is nothing like what I thought it would be. For one thing, it's not just Anglicans that go here. We have a range from Pentecostals all the way to Anglo-Catholics (and possibly some Roman Catholics, not sure), and everything in between. Not to mention all the residents who aren't students here, who range from Muslims to atheists to everything in between (although if they aren't Christians they tend to be shy about expressing their beliefs... being outnumbered). So what I thought would be an extremely Anglican community is not at all.

At the same time, there are interesting bits of Anglicanism here and there--such as saying 'The Lord be with you' before praying for dinner or class, daily Morning and Evening Prayers, and a community Eucharist service once a week. Community is a strong value at Wycliffe College, something that I'm appreciating more and more. From the first the attitude has been 'join us, we want to know you', no matter who they are talking to. Social events, which happen all the time, are always inclusive--one can assume that one is invited. I've been told if it's truly a private event, you likely won't even hear about it if you're not invited. This leads to much warmth and fellowship.

Another sweet thing is that first year students often mingle with second and third year students. Since classes, profs, and requirements tend to be the same from year to year, I now have many friends I can go to for help with an assignment, because chances are they've taken the same class from the same prof in the last year or two. This week a paper was due in my Old Testament class, and to my surprise this was known throughout the college, and all the first years had the sympathy and help and encouragement of everyone else. I had many congratulations when I handed it in! This kind of support is incredible.

Because community is so important, it's been kind of funny that there has actually been a rivalry for First Year Representative on student council, between myself and another guy named Kenneth, from Oklahoma. (To put this in perspective, every position on the student council last year was decided by mutual consent before it ever went to a vote, because everyone was good friends.) But because of the warmth of the community, the 'rivalry' is somewhat a farce--we had to submit our platforms to the school paper, but instead of taking individual photos, we had a picture together. We both had to speak at community dinner tonight (on Wednesdays that means a crowd of 100 or so people) to present our platforms. We knew better than to be serious about it, so we both went for the laughs--him making a big deal out of the fact that I speak French and he speaks American, and me saying I was at a disadvantage because I couldn't say 'I am committed to...' with that amazing Southern drawl. It doesn't matter really who wins--we'd both do a good job, although I'd like it to be me!

So that's a bit about life here. Tonight I'll be heading to a comedy club for a show, put on by a former resident from here, and then coming back here for a movie with some people. It IS a school night but we've been working hard all week and are ready for a break!

I hope you're all doing well--drop me a line or a comment every now and then!


Kenneth and Karen, 1st Year Reps

An Eventful Saturday

2010-09-26T18:55:00.002-05:00

CN Tower

Kenneth and Lane, two of the guys I went to the game with.

Wayne Gretsky's dad was randomly there.

Roger's Center: also used for football games.

Ricky Romero pitching.

Père Max (from Haiti) and me

Bautista hitting a foul ball way up to our section. He's leading the Major League in home runs at 52. We were hoping to see #53 but didn't get lucky.

A group of us decided to go out for games and lattés last night at this very cool cafe... unfortunately too cool; they were full and we left. But I got some pictures first.

Marine (from France) in front of a wall of board games in Snakes and Lattés.

The café, full of people playing games. How fun!

Nancy and Sarah, two great people.

Joanna (1st year, also in my program), me and Marine (engineering).

We found another café that also had a beer option and fabulous cheesecake.
Around the circle: Marine, Nancy, Sarah, Joanna, Dave, Tom, Jenn

And, with some paper and pens, we had our own gamefest!
Our current favourite: 'telepictionary'--the cheapest, most laugh-worthy game on the market.

2010-09-22T22:27:00.001-05:00


Cityscape with full moon.

So it turns out that Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday are my extremely busy days for a simple reason: they are the days that most people have classes (including me), so all the meetings are scheduled for these days so that students don't have to come in on a day off. Hence the reason I will go 5 or 6 hours without a break at times. Good news is, tomorrow is Thursday and this week I have no class on Friday, so I will have time to recuperate and prep for next week's classes.

And more good news? The fact that I can speak some French is paying off! We have a Haitian priest in town for a few days who's been speaking here at Wycliffe, and he needs a few people to accompany him to a Blue Jays game on Saturday. Would I happen to be free to go along (ticket paid for) so that I can provide some French-speaking company for him?

Umm, let me think... YES. :-)

A Blog About Random Stuff

2010-09-16T15:48:00.001-05:00

Stained glass in my window

Waterfall at the retreat (outside of Hamilton, held right in the woods)


Orientation week: Capture the Flag in Queen's Park, and identifying face paint			(photo courtesy of David Matthews)

Capture the flag, red versus blue (photo courtesy of David Matthews)


Group that walked to the waterfall (photo courtesy of David Matthews)

It's been a very fun two weeks, and very full as well. This last week has been made more difficult since I got hit with a heavy cold, but thankfully I've been supplied with hot toddies due to a variety of generous people around me.

Some other random thoughts about life here:

I LOVE SCHOOL. I know, I'm a nerd... but here, being in graduate studies, I'm surrounded by other nerds, and everyone knows how I feel. It is a wonderful thing to be able to study and learn (especially in a Christian environment) and be 'forced' to buy excellent books (what a privilege!!) and forced to read them and actually consider what they're saying. I can already see that I'll have a hard time leaving after two years, and could see myself switching programs just so I can stay in this place. The standard problem for me, as well as many others, is that there are so many enticing classes that I just don't have room in my schedule to fit in. There are at least three off the top of my head that I'm sorry I can't take this fall, and I'm already taking a full courseload at five courses.

Another problem is that four of my five classes are held in a beautiful lecture room called Leonard Hall, which used to be the library and is surrounded on all walls by shelves of books for sale secondhand. I've bought two already, and since I stare at them for hours each day, I can imagine a large portion of my cash going in this direction. Also too convenient is the bookstore located directly below this classroom, which brews the best coffee on campus, available for only $1.

A very nice thing about being here is the whole Anglican part of it. It's lovely being in a Christian college and having all my profs pray before the lecture (not to mention the incredibly high level of intelligence and quality in teaching that I will be getting). There are two daily chapel services, which I assumed I would only attend occasionally, but to my surprise I really enjoy them, especially the Morning Prayer. It's only half an hour and usually doesn't have a sermon; just a few songs and liturgy and prayers for the church and the world. It's a nice way to start the day. There are many things built into the schedule (being a small college) designed to bring the community closer, such as a daily coffee break offering free coffee and cookies; or a Wednesday Eucharist service preceded by sherry or tea at the President's house; or many one-time events designed to bring people closer together. It's nice to see such effort being poured into it, and it's obviously working by the camaraderie and fellowship that I see being shared between years, and between profs and students.

This is a long blog so I'll stop soon, but just a quick mention of activities that I'll be getting into, since they all were irresistible: the co-ed volleyball team, with games once a week; chapel band and/or choir; preaching club (once a week at lunch); 'recess'--a weekly excursion to a local pub with a bunch of students at the end of the day on Thursdays; and last but not least either Missions Committee or First Year Rep on student council, or both (to be determined still). And possibly street hockey on Saturdays. This isn't all that I could be involved in, and I may find that it's too much, and have to adjust next term. But for now, it sounds like good times.

Oh yeah, and I'll be (possibly) heading to a Blue Jays game next week to provide some French-speaking comfort to a visiting speaker from Haiti. Good times, indeed!

Arrival at Wycliffe College

2010-09-09T13:47:00.001-05:00

Hello all-- I finally have a few moments to work on a blog! So here's pictures of my first week (almost) at Wycliffe, slightly out of order due to the frustrating nature of the new blogging format:

My room: bedroom window (7-ft) and desk

Mackinac Bridge that we drove across between the Great Lakes

My chair and bookshelf in my room

Fridge and kitchen storage in my room

Dresser, ready for a good time!

Mom and Dad on my bed

I don't have any nice pictures of the college yet; I'll put them up as I get them. Meanwhile, it's been a busy week with moving in and orientation. Yesterday orientation officially started with lectures on plagiarism, assemblies, etc, but in reality we've been kept busy all week, mostly with fun stuff planned by the student council. There are two daily chapel services, one in the morning after breakfast and one in the evening before supper. I've been to the morning one regularly but due to orientation stuff I've missed the evening one (although I've had plenty of services; including communion service yesterday and today!). Today we were invited across the road to Trinity College (photo below) for a Eucharist service and lunch, to meet some students there. It is a beautiful college and reminded several of us of Hogwarts. The service was VERY high Anglican compared to what I'm used to--lots of incense--with unusual more liberal elements mixed in (we all went up and stood in a circle for communion, for example). I found it interesting but am glad that I'm at Wycliffe College instead! This weekend is an annual Fall Retreat which I'll be going on, and then classes start next Monday--busyness already! But it seems like a great place, with a wonderful residence, excellent teachers, and a lot of interesting students and courses!


The Royal Ontario Museum (ROM), a couple blocks from my college

My group on a 'subway rally', in which we had to perform various tasks on and around the subway (free ice cream afterward)

Trinity College (also the view from my dorm floor)

The Only Real Peace

2010-08-31T12:00:00.001-05:00

This is a beautiful song sung by Lynda Randle with lyrics I can identify with:

Life is a few days of trouble a wise man once said,
But I'll not complain, I'm sheltered, I'm clothed, and I'm fed.
But many's the trial my wants and my dreams put me through,
And the only real peace that I have, dear Lord, is in You.

The only real peace that I have, dear Lord, is in You.
The only real peace that I have, dear Lord, is in You.
With all life's temptations, I need You, and I know I do.
'Cause the only real peace that I have, dear Lord, is in You.

The higher I've soared in my dreams the harder I fall
And sometimes I've wondered if dreams are worth dreaming at all.
Then my disappointments can't keep me blinded and blue
Not when I'm reminded of sweet peace I have, Lord, in You.

I Want It All

2010-08-20T19:00:00.003-05:00

I came across this today in a card that Julie wrote to me once, and was so glad:

You see, I want a lot.
Maybe I want it all:
the darkness of each endless fall,
the shimmering light of each ascent.

So many are alive who don't seem to care.
Casual, easy, they move in the world
as though untouched.

But You take pleasure in the faces
of those who know they thirst.
You cherish those
who grip You for survival...

~Rainier Maria Rilke "Book of Hours I", p 14. (Love Poems to God)

2010-08-14T12:06:00.001-05:00

Packing, sorting, and feeling the general uncertainty that comes with every big move. Less than three weeks until I leave. Someday I'd love to be sure of myself.

Ode to a Bicycle

2010-08-07T17:44:00.002-05:00

It didn't have a name.

The back tire sometimes gave me problems.

There was a mysterious clicking sound as I rode it.

It had a few scrapes and dents.

It was well loved.

This is the sad tale of my bike.

As best I can figure, it was the fall of 2003 that I first laid eyes on my Specialized Hardrock. At the time, while I had biked a bit in the city and enjoyed it, I wasn't gung-ho about it. But this bike changed all that. I bought it on sale at Alter Ego Sports, and took it home. For several years afterward every birthday and Christmas involved gift certificates to MEC, where I would buy much dreamed-over toys to go with my new bike. A few of them are visible in the picture, taken in the spring of 2010: gloves on the handlebars, a rack on the back, a bike lock, a new seat, a seat pack. Each accessory was enjoyed to the fullest.

But most of all, I liked riding. We put in many miles together, my Specialized and me. She was a major part of my transportation to university for several years. Together, we learned to ride some of the dirt paths at Assiniboine and Birds Hill Parks. Often after a late shift at Starbucks, I would ride her silently down the deserted sidewalk, through the shadows of the trees, feeling as if we were in another world. Years ago, we learned to hop a curb and pop a wheelie. I rode her so often that I would often find myself riding without hands, answering a cellphone or putting on sunglasses. This spring, we inaugurated the biking season with a 40 km trip out to Lockport with friends and family. More recently, we soared down hills at speeds of 50+ km/hr in the Whiteshell, causing a grin of pure delight on my face, and pure worry on my mother's when she found out. A similar joy flooded me when I made the trip from Whyte Ridge to Corydon in 21 minutes the other night, beating my best speed by a good four minutes.

She was going to make the long trip to Toronto with me, strapped on the back of the truck. Maybe she would have made it, maybe she wouldn't have. She might have been stolen at some motel near to Kalamazoo, or sideswiped into oblivion by a careless driver. Maybe we would have had a few good months or years of biking on new paths in Toronto. I always knew that her end would come at some point; had a vague suspicion that someone else would fall instantly in love with her and be unable to resist her call. And it is so: she was stolen out of a garage today, leaving behind bikes of far greater value. I am not surprised: she was beautiful.

There will be other bikes in the future, and I may even grow to love them more. But there will never be another like my first and best-loved Specialized.

Feel the wind on your face as you fly down the hill:

Nothing can catch you; nothing will.

At one with the bike your heart hums a song--

And the tires echo joy as they spin along.

The Lake: Part 2 - Family

2010-08-06T13:10:00.001-05:00

The Lake: Part I - Wildlife

2010-08-04T21:26:00.001-05:00

Running

2010-07-27T17:40:00.002-05:00

I've been asked many questions this summer that started with 'So, when...?' So, when are you going to settle down? So, when are you going to find a husband and have some children... start a career... stop all this traveling... figure out what to do with yourself?

And while I laugh them off, culturally speaking they are valid questions, and I know it. Why am I different? Why do I have an incessant urge to travel, see the world, recognize that there is more than what we see around us? Why can I not forget the images of poverty I have seen in Africa, nor the images of joy and praise? Why do foreign languages sound like music to me, calling me to understand their hidden messages? Why do the memories of my experiences pound in my heart and mind, demanding me to share them, daring me to forget them?

I don't know. Nor can I see how they can be woven into a seamless, sensible whole. To this point in my life, I have not been very sensible. I have followed my dreams and my desires, and have had unique and remarkable experiences, but nothing that sounds 'sensible'.

Is this a problem? Is there something wrong with me? It's worth asking; someone who deviates so drastically from the norm deserves to be asked why. Am I a thrill junkie? Am I addicted to the adrenaline of new places? Am I running from something in my past? They are valid hypotheses, and logical to anyone looking at my life from the outside. If I can't stay still, there's something wrong.

Three pictures come into my mind when I think of these questions. The first is in Mali, when I was walking down the street early in the morning and heard a pounding coming from a little hut. Stooping in, I and my companion watched in fascination as two cloth-workers pounded wax into a shirt. Throbbing through my whole being at that moment and for many minutes afterward was a joy of learning, experiencing, understanding a completely different way of life.

The second picture is in the airport in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, as I am waiting for my plane. I'm sitting on a bench in the middle of the terminal, working on a Sudoku and watching the people around me. There are many Africans, but there are also Westerners, Asians, South Americans. Many languages can be heard. Beside me sits a young Arab, and on the other side, an older Chinese man. We are all, for the moment, sharing in the same adventure. We sometimes catch each others' eye, commenting on the time or something equally banal. Sometimes we don't speak to anyone. But regardless, we are sharing this unique experience of being in the terminal of the Addis Ababa Airport, waiting for a flight to take us elsewhere. A love for humankind in all shapes, sizes, and colours fills me.

The final picture is one I can only imagine because I can't remember it, although I was present. It occurred when I was a year old and eager to move from crawling to a more efficient means of locomotion. I have been told many times how, over and over again, I would launch from a standing into a running position, without knowing how to walk. Inevitably this ended with me flat on my face, wailing.

I'm not 'normal' as our culture would have it. Maybe I make people uncomfortable by daring to be happy single, daring to not accept cultural norms and settle down, but instead to define my own 'normal'. Maybe I am not running from something, or even to something. Maybe I'm just running, because I was born to run—to be on the move, to learn and experience and grow and teach and love and live. This inevitably comes with falling down and crying. But if those around me help me to get up again, I will keep going. And maybe this is how I can impact my world best, by being simply me. And running.

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
- Dr Howard Thurman

A Photo Game

2010-07-07T16:10:00.002-05:00

A pre-script: If you are reading this via an RSS feed, I do recommend that you stop by my actual site of www.sunsplitclouds.blogspot.com to check out the new look!

First off, let me just say that blogspot's new 'improvements' to the functionality of their site have made my life temporarily miserable, and are the reason for the uncharacteristically untidy look of the blog. Sorry about that--the neatness shall return once I've figured out the new system. As always, clicking on any of the photos will bring a closer view.

Secondly, it won't let me write between or around the pictures, so until I figure that out, you'll just have to guess who's in them. It can be a new game. I'll give you some clues, though: you'll find Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II among them, as well as The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. You'll also find Chantal Kreviazuk, Alexander Mickelthwaite (conductor of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra), Arthur the Skeleton, a very cute baby named Lucy, the Prime Minister Harper and his wife, my dad, and a group photo of friends and family. My dad gets a photo because this past week he retired from the medical profession and we took the occasion to celebrate big-style (including at various points fresh lobster and a party of 60+ guests). The group photo is because I had a group of longtime friends come up from the Summer Institute of Linguistics in Grand Forks to join me for the weekend, and we traditionally get a 'family photo' together. It was a fabulous time as always, and a chance for me to brush up on my (admittedly lacking) American Sign Language skills since two of the men visiting were Deaf. And of course, the Queen, Prince Philip, Chantal Kreviazuk, and Mr Mickelthwaite photos are all because of the Royal visit to Winnipeg on Saturday. Much enjoyed by all!

Pretty Picture

2010-07-07T07:48:00.001-05:00

I want to put up a blog of Her Majesty and my friends from SIL, but for the moment this is what you get.

God Bless the Queen

2010-06-28T15:48:00.003-05:00

(Paul Chiasson/Canadian Press)

I'm glad she's here!

The Hostess with the Mostes

2010-06-24T14:25:00.009-05:00

This morning at 10 am my lovely friend Kerry Keels went home to Jesus. I've already talked about her struggle with cancer here, so I'll just let her own words from her newsletters over the last few months speak for her and give you a glimpse into the beautiful person that you get to meet in heaven:

Her reaction on finding out she had melanoma:

We have a TRUE gift of knowing that my time is limited – many people do not receive this gift! I intend to continue to live my life as I always have: with LOVE, laughter, passion, experiences and fun! To share my testimony of Christ through love toward all I know in my actions, speech, heart! It has not always been easy – and yes, there are days when I have felt deep disappointment – but I continue to ask God to just reveal His love and plan in all of this and HE IS FAITHFUL – His love knows NO bounds and He has been OOOOHHH so faithful in showing me that Love – it’s truly amazing when you release it ALL to Him and just give it to Him how peaceful it can truly be! And, my lovelies – the peace that I feel is undeniable – and the knowledge that I am HIS – WOW – is it ever humbling!!!!! Do NOT, my beautiful friends allow your faith to be shaken if God chooses not to heal me – it is NOT a battle lost, but a battle won for HIM if we give Him ALL the glory in every thing!!!!!

When she finally accepted that the surgeries and treatments were not working:

And yet – as these things began to pile up – it was becoming more and more clear to me that God is telling me – it’s ok dear one – I am ready for you – you can stop fighting . . . come home to me. I have a beautiful place all prepared for you.

Sooooo – as I step into heaven and find my place there – know that I am just going ahead of you because I want to get there FIRST and get things just PERFECT for when you join me. I AM the hostess with the mostes after all and BOY howdy – will I be waiting for you with a HUGE hug, a big smile, a laugh of joy and delight when I see you in our Lord’s BEAUTIFUL home with many, many rooms that He has prepared for us. I excitedly and with MUCH peace look forward to the next step of this journey.

Through her struggle Kerry has taught me so much about how to live and what is truly important in life. I can't wait to see her again, and maybe even help the "hostess with the mostes" serve up some fabulous meals. Thank you for praying with me during this journey of Kerry's, and please remember her family in prayer as they mourn her loss.

Family Picnic at the Park

2010-06-09T20:21:00.005-05:00

Desaturated

2010-06-04T13:20:00.005-05:00

Annual Lockport Ride

2010-05-16T20:52:00.004-05:00

A day spent biking out to Lockport and back (about 40 kms round-trip), family and friends, sunshine and no wind. How much better does it get, especially for the first bike of the season?!? Not to mention, burgers, curly fries, cute nieces, and soft ice cream at the destination. Life is good.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

2010-05-05T20:41:00.003-05:00

... after a lovely week with Ilana, enjoying the beautiful weather and sites of France!

I'm now back in the 'Peg for the summer (reachable at my old Sheffield address and phone number) before heading off to Toronto in the fall. Looking forward to: time spent with family (especially nieces!), biking, swimming at the Lake, reading, movies, cooking, gelati on Corydon, family LAN parties, and barbecues. For a start. :)

Fun!

2010-04-26T03:52:00.003-05:00

Me n' Mia

Ilana's here, arrived safely, and now for a week of fun!

Spring!

2010-04-22T05:26:00.005-05:00

Addendum to How's my French?

2010-04-13T15:03:00.003-05:00

I was talking with Thibault (our resident French guy on the équipier team) today about how I get so depressed over my level of French sometimes, and he shot me a look and wouldn't even let me continue. "Your French is just fine," he said... nice to hear!

How's my French?

2010-04-12T02:34:00.006-05:00

It's a question that comes up fairly often when speaking with my anglophone friends and family. After having been in francophone countries for the last seven months continually (bringing it up to a total of over a year and a half spent in francophone countries in my life--that is of course if Champfleuri counts as being francophone, which is dubious), it's easy to assume that I'm "fluent".

I never know how to answer the question though. What is fluent? According to dictionary.com, it means "to be able to speak or write smoothly, easily, or readily". Even that doesn't help much: are you allowed mistakes? How many, and of what variety? What about correcting yourself in the middle of a phrase?

I've been very discouraged about my French this last round at Champfleuri. Maybe I feel like I should have already arrived by now. Instead, I feel like I speak more stiltedly and with more mistakes than ever. I've realized over the last couple of days that this feeling is largely due to one or two people here (also anglophones) who constantly correct me. In Africa I felt much more at ease, because I didn't have people correcting me at every turn. We were all second-language French speakers, even if the Africans spoke it as if it was their native language, and we just communicated. It didn't seem to matter if I made mistakes. It was actually a very exciting time of language-learning, because the new words and phrases came thick and fast. I would have whole animated conversations without realizing I was speaking in my non-native language.

Here, not so much. Here, I'm back to being a mis-communicator, and a slow learner--at least slower than the anglophones who take pleasure in correcting me. Here, I'm always one, two, or ten steps behind.

The good news is that there are a few clues to the contrary. I now answer phones with ease, and rarely have to ask them to repeat anything. And I can fairly easily write business letters and emails, and only have small errors in them.

But oh, how second-language-learning takes perseverance, and humility! For now, I'll just say as my friend Irene always said in Mali: "Je me débrouille." ("I get by.")

follow up

2010-04-10T10:14:00.004-05:00

For those of you who have been praying for Kerry, here's what I've heard:

"Update -- the surgery went well. The masses were melanoma and they were able to remove all but one that was too deep in the brain to get to. They will treat that with radiation. Kerry will be in ICU for the next day or so until the swelling from the surgery will go down."

Apparently this means that she'll be switching to a new drug which will at best delay the spread of cancer, not hope to cure it.

Thanks for praying with me.
~Karen

Kerry

2010-04-08T12:15:00.003-05:00

Many of you have been praying with me for my friend Kerry, who has cancer. I met Kerry in Cameroon where she was working in the finance office for SIL, and in any spare time, cooking and hosting for her many friends. She's an incredible cook and a better friend, and always impressed me with her generous spirit. Unfortunately she left on furlough after I had been in Cameroon only a couple months, and by the time she got back I was gone, so we didn't get to know each other as well as we would have liked.

Over the last year and a half, however, I've been getting to know what Kerry is made of. About that time she discovered she had melanoma. She has been fighting it with everything she's got. Last December, just before Christmas, she found out that it had metastasized, that she was at 'Terminal Stage 4', and given 8-12 months to live. Nonetheless, this didn't daunt her. Her email announcing the bad news was full of hope and joy in the One who can heal anything, through or despite any medicine. But knowing that God doesn't always choose to heal in this lifetime, Kerry has been an incredible witness of the hope that we have in the face of death. She's already a living testimony to the fact that we have won, regardless of the outcome of this illness.

This morning I received an email from her announcing that they had just discovered brain tumors. She'll be having brain surgery in a few hours. Through all of this she is holding tight to Jesus and teaching everyone around her the meaning of perseverance, strength, and joy in the Lord--but it is still an incredibly scary prospect. Please pray for her, and for her family!

On the Relativity of Time

2010-04-06T15:28:00.004-05:00

Or, I Should Be In Bed Sleeping Right Now

... but I realized that today marks precisely two months that I've been in France. I'm not sure where exactly they've gone (how could it already be two months??), but I think of the three looong months I spent in Africa, and the one very short month I have left here, and none of this computes in my brain.

Life Just Gets in the Way

2010-03-30T10:59:00.004-05:00

Hello everyone, and sorry for the long silence! I have been busy enough that I forgot to blog for the past many days.

Some things that have been keeping me busy:

- the arrival and departure of various équipiers, and the celebrations to go along! This is Sarah, who became an immediate friend when I was here in the fall. I was delighted to discover that I'd see her again when I came back this spring, and we enjoyed the month that we got to spend together! She left to go back to Germany a few weeks ago and we've been missing her ever since.

- I've also been busy working as a receptionist/secretary/general go-fer girl for Champfleuri. This involves all the normal receptionist duties, plus anything else that might come along! Being such a small place means that the work is always varied, and I'll often go from answering phones to preparing a meal to buying groceries or picking someone up from the train station. I've been especially busy over the last couple weeks since our woman in charge of the short-term staff has been ill. I've taken over her duties of managing the short-term staff. I also took over for her as the staff person in charge for the church group that came to stay last weekend--my first time doing this! It was a small group and went well.

- Once a week I've been joining Damien and Paul (another Canadian on staff here) in teaching English to the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders in the local school. Paul and I like to focus on things typically Canadian, so the kids are learning a lot of Canadian facts! We taught them about Terry Fox the other week. This week it was the typical Canadian house, plus furnishings: do we live in IGLOOS, TEPEES, TENTS, or HOUSES? That was more for Damien's sake, who being from Texas tends to think of all Canadians as living in igloos! Nonetheless we have a lot of fun with the lesson, and it's a break from the norm to look forward to each week.

- Finally, I've been of course taking time to have fun, which includes spending time with the staff, attending birthday parties, going on walks, making ChampFlurries (our equivalent of McFlurries!), and having fajita parties. It also includes taking care of this little girl as often as I can get time with her:

Isn't she sweet? This is Damien and Gudrun's little girl Mia, my surrogate niece while I am away from my own precious nieces. We have a lot of fun together!

In a little under a month my sister Ilana is coming to fetch me back to Canada. We get to spend a lovely week together exploring the region before heading back home. :)

Women are Heroes

2010-03-12T15:19:00.003-06:00

TRAILER " WOMEN ARE HEROES"
par JR

This video is absolutely beautiful, as is the Paris one that is the newest on this site--the guy is a master of his art. It may take a little while to download but just start it and give it time--it's worth it.

African Ruminations

2010-03-09T01:43:00.004-06:00

When I was leaving Mali I was full of thoughts and reflections on my stay there, and as I was afraid that I would forget a lot of what I experienced, I wrote down everything I was thinking during the long journey to France. As I was rereading this last night I realized that it might make a good blog post. So, some thoughts summing up my experiences in Mali:

Most Interesting Things:

- Living with Africans, and everything that entailed.
- Seeing the different attitudes, living styles, and methods of the various missions communities in town; noticeably YWAM and CMA.
- Living without basic 'essentials' such as salt, pepper, butter, coffee, etc for long periods of time.
- Christmas and New Year's in the village: how another part of the world celebrates.
- Learning something new every day.

Most Difficult Things:

- Living under African leadership (need-to-know, knowledge = power, authoritarian, no exceptions to rules, less thinking ahead and planning in advance).
- Living in constant company, never alone for three months.
- "God spoke to me" used constantly, sometimes legitimately, sometimes not.
- Lack of freedom; my life planned out for me; rules and restrictions galore (I still sometimes marvel that I have the choice here of what to watch on TV, what to read, when to go to bed).
- Christmas and New Year's in the village... I still feel like I 'missed Christmas' this year.
- Lack of sleep needed to deal with cultural things I didn't understand--living in that environment takes ENERGY, and lots of it. I learned a lot about basic energy needs of the body. Lack of understanding from leadership regarding this lack of sleep and increased difficulty in basic living tasks. (Common response not "Go sleep for a bit" but "I'll pray for you and God will give you the strength".)
- Figuring out how to live coming from a very unequal economic level of those around me--how much do I share, how much do I give them what they ask, how much do I anticipate their needs and try to help them? This also took energy, so much of it.

Things I'll Miss:

- Greetings. Never stop to talk to someone or go into a shop without inquiring about their family, their night, their day, etc. It's a very warm and friendly way to live, even if stressful (although I liked this part of life, it too took energy).
- Walking through the quartier in the early mornings, learning new things all the time.
- Hanging out with my tubab friends on base, sharing little aspects of this unusual life in Africa that we have chosen. (As Barry said once, the fact that we were sitting under a mango tree in West Africa is itself proof that we are not 'typical' Canadians, North Americans, etc.) It was good to be around others with similar mindsets to my own.
- Malian rounds of tea.
- The closeness of eating from a communal dish of food, for example riz gras... so yummy! And there's something so warm about the fellowship when we ate that way.
- The common sights of Africa.
- Learning new cultural things all the time.
- Having discussions from a much different knowledge base and worldview than is often found back home; the very fact that people know where Mali is means that the conversation will be different regarding world issues.
- The challenge of learning to live without some things, and trying to figure out ways around them (thinking especially of basic or fancy food ingredients).

And finally, an excerpt from my journal written in the airport in Bamako as I was waiting to board:

"I'm filled with a great love for Africa and its people as I leave. I want to greet people in Bambara; I want to delay and talk to them, have conversations. What a difference from when I arrived and clung to any Occidental [Westerner] I found! I find myself equally or more curious about the Africans on the flight than the Europeans. I'm so thankful I was allowed to be part of the world--the international people, Africans and Asians and Europeans and Americans, that I could have adventures. I'm overflowing with thankfulness and gratitude... not a bad way to leave!"

Happy Birthday, Chloe!!!

2010-03-03T03:30:00.001-06:00

Love from Auntie Karen!

Skiing

2010-03-02T15:04:00.005-06:00

Ski season is finally over, which means that we are all relaxing a bit with no camps to take care of! Today, to celebrate our newfound freedom, the staff all went skiing. I've only been a couple times this year, and both times either the weather or the crowds weren't cooperating. But today, everything was perfect, especially skiing with all my friends!

Here are a few of us at the top of the first chairlift, waiting for the rest to join us for the first run of the day. The sun was shining all day, and there was beautiful powder! Buan (on the left) knew a run that had only opened last year, and is kind of hard to find. It involves going down a little track off the beaten path, but opens up into an amazingly wide, fairly steep run with no moguls and no people--just pure fresh snow! This was how we started off our day, and it was a fantastic start having everyone whooping and hollering into the wind, before heading straight back to the same run to do it over again! The chairlift rides were entertaining today too, with Damien posing questions such as "What is the meaning of life?" and giving 1 minute, 47 seconds to answer. We had some interesting discussions.

For lunch we all met up at one of the top chairlifts, and then Thomas (in the yellow) had us hike up to this point ("but don't go past that rock over there, because you'll fall over the edge"). It was an incredible vista to go along with the food!

After lunch the challenge was posed: let's go to the Vallon! The Vallon is a long black run on the back of the mountain, basically a bowl between mountains. I've heard about it but all I knew was that it's often closed due to avalanche issues, and that there's a lot of fresh powder, and that it's steep and black. Needless to say, I've been pretty nervous about it. But, since everyone else was game, so was I! It worked out well because I ended up skiing with Allan (permanent staff member and long-time, excellent skier here) and his wife Cindy, who is a great skier (better than me) but still a bit nervous and wanting to improve. Allan is trying to move her up a level so that she can ski in the same places as him and their sons, so he was giving her (and therefore, me) tips on how to go down, and choosing runs that would test our abilities but at the same time give us joy! The first part of the bowl looked steep but doable, but he called us farther down the slope to where it was much steeper but with nicer powder. If someone tells me I can do something, that's usually enough for me to do it--and it was!! I'm sure I wasn't very graceful going down, but my first purely powder, black off-piste (off-run) experience was just incredible. Fresh powder is delightful, as is the heady feeling of trying something SCARY and overcoming it! I fell once, lightly, at the top of a run, but other than that managed to make it down without losing control or falling at all. A funny thing about skiing in France is that rules are pretty relaxed about going out of bounds of runs. Back home, if they catch you they take away your pass, and I've heard you can even get arrested in some places. But here, not a bit of it. They usually don't even have fences, just little poles marking where the run is supposed to go. This can get a bit nerve-wracking when the run is narrow with a steep drop-off on one or both sides--pretty common! But often the goal is to head off the run (off-piste) to get some of the fresh untouched powder, and we did quite a bit of that today. It's still always somewhat frightening for me, since I like knowing where I'm going, but I was thrilled with every experience I had today!

About halfway down the bowl of the Vallon: I'm the more right of the two tiny figures on the left. Cindy is with me, and Allan is the other tiny figure above the rocks. Paul happened to be farther down with his camera posed!

Almost to the end of the hardest part. This is actually a video (not very impressive!) but I couldn't get it on here. After this part the really steep bit is over and it's pretty smooth sailing, although I found that powder can be pretty tricky if there have been quite a number of people on it already. Had some near wipe-outs but nothing serious, and I arrived at the bottom glowing with joy! A challenge overcome!

I only have two more times paid for by Champfleuri (they pay the pass and I pay the rentals), so some more days like this one would be great--but they may only come once in a lifetime. :)

The Random Life of Champfleuri

2010-03-01T14:44:00.004-06:00

Today was a good example of a typical random day at Champfleuri: I got up early enough to drive one of the Bible school students to the train station in Grenoble (an almost 2-hr round trip due to traffic!). When I got back I started preparing the bank deposit, before helping gut an apartment that will be renovated this week. This was fun, including tearing down fireplaces and cupboards and tiles. Then, lunch with the staff and a loooooong meeting in which we discussed everything from toilet paper to Champfleuri logos to skiing tomorrow. Finally, some more bank work, and done for the day! And now three blissful days off!

Laughing Rover, Crying Nomad

2010-02-25T09:06:00.002-06:00

Yesterday I was thinking over my life over the last three years. My mom told me recently that she had to tear out a whole page of her address book that was filled with my old addresses, and that seems to sum up the last three years for me! France, Winnipeg, Cameroon, Mali... I haven't stayed in one place longer than 10 months, and most places only three to five months. While I've had a VERY interesting three years, and wouldn't exchange those experiences for anything, I'm starting to feel a deep weariness inside, something I push so far down that most of the time I can pretend it's not there.

I look around at 'my' mountains, this place I've come to love so deeply, and I think that I'm the luckiest girl in the world. God has plucked a girl out from small-town Northern Manitoba, and set her where she feels more truly at home in the French Alps (or, maybe more appropriately put, in the World). Go figure. I went skiing yesterday and I went up the highest lift, to the very top of the slopes, where the wind was rushing and the valleys and lower mountain chains were laid out before me in a stunning array of blue, white and green. It's the sort of beauty that can't stay inside, and I have to stop and exclaim to those I'm skiing with, "Isn't it beautiful??" And my breath catches with wonder that I'm HERE.

It's only for another two months, and then it's time to move on again. I know that there are several here who are hoping I'll change my mind, and either stay for the summer or stay for several years. I can't; it's almost time to go home again and see my nieces, go biking, cook with my sisters. I'm home so rarely that I feel like I need to jealously guard these few months here and there that I can spend with my family; store up more memories to warm me when I'm away.

Because the reality is, as interesting as this life is, it isn't easy! I don't know if any life is ever 'easy', but I know that being a rover comes with particular challenges... loneliness being one of the biggest. I have only one constant companion, and that's God. There's no one else really who understands my life, because everyone has only shared some of my experiences--those I'm friends with in Mali have no clue about how life is at Champfleuri; those here in France can't understand what I lived through in Africa; those back home, although I try to convey through pictures and words, only have little glimpses of my world. I like to assume that relationships stay the same over time and distance, but the truth is that things always change. The team at Champfleuri changes a little bit, or they experience things that bond them together, or it's a whole new team when I arrive. Friends and family back home are living their lives, too, and when I come back it's always a game of 'catch-up', of making sure that the relationships are as healthy as they used to be, of finding out what happened while I was gone that I didn't hear about. It's one of the prices of being gone. I've learned that I can't just assume that things will be fine--it takes work and prayer to keep my relationships with others warm and close, something intensely important for me who have no constants.

Sarah Slean sings a song called "No Place At All" that I can often identify with. The first two verses are this:

No place at all to call my own
Still wandering the world
And friends of mine all moving on
In comfortable cars, getting married

In someone else’s neighbourhood
I hear a telephone
Who lives in those well lighted homes?
Their windows aglow in evening

The very wistfulness of the song catches me sometimes. Although in very rare moments I find myself envious of those who have that settled life, for the most part I wouldn't change my life with anyone. I'm incredibly grateful that God has given me this roving spirit and enabled me to GO, to head out for parts unknown, to take the less travelled path. I really am the luckiest girl in the world!

All the same, the thought of a potential two whole years in Toronto is blissful, and the thought of (maybe) a career and some more constants in my life afterwards, even better!

Until then, I remain,
The (Usually) Laughing Rover, (Occasionally) Crying Nomad

Grenoble

2010-02-20T08:52:00.003-06:00

To silence the demands for more pictures, voilà some photos from a recent expedition to downtown Grenoble with Sarah:

This street holds my favourite card shop in the world: you can see the card stands out on the right.

Not Grenoble: this from just outside my door. Ever-so-familiar, always changing and always beautiful view!

Champfleuri Life

2010-02-16T14:20:00.003-06:00

I've been here over a week now, and life is settling into routine. I landed here at the beginning of the busiest season at Champfleuri--ski season! Since getting here there have been at least two separate groups on place each week, so we've been kept busy making picnics and doing dishes. Apart from that my job description changes from équipière to receptionist. When we're done the breakfast dishes and picnics and staff devotions (usually between 10 and 10:30 am) the other girls head out to clean the rooms, and I head into the office to pay bills, answer phones, work on the website, and generally have a good time! Today my job included driving across the valley to drop off a deposit at the bank, and filling the car with gas at the same time.

Because I'm juggling équipière tasks and receptionist tasks, it gets pretty difficult to know when to quit working! I generally start around 7:30 am and work through until 12:30. Then it becomes hazier, because after lunch the other girls tend to take part of the afternoon off because we also work the evening until 8:30 or so. But often there are things to be done in the office (always in fact!!), the phone is ringing, or a run is needed to the grocery store. Since I've only been working a few days I haven't quite found the balance here, but it seems to include forcing myself to take a good chunk of time off in the afternoon!

So when I heard that some of the girls were going skiing this afternoon, I jumped on board! Between working until about 1 pm and again from 5:00 onwards, I was able to finish most of my tasks, and still spend a couple good hours on the slopes. I was worried that since I haven't really skiied for three solid years--since the last time I was here, in fact--I would be a newbie on the slopes, but I seemed to hold my own pretty well! Definitely enjoyed myself, didn't fall, and liked the red slopes better than the blue, which I take as a good sign! (For the non-Europeans, red falls between black and blue on the spectrum of difficulty.) I do have to shell out some money unfortunately, so I won't be going as often as I did the first time I was here. Still, I've had a taste of it again and I'll be back up there soon!

Other than that life is smooth. The équipière team here is a really solid one, great girls who are fun and enjoy working. The permanent staff are as great as always.

The team of équipières minus one girl who's not in the picture. In front of me from left to right is Sarah (Germany), Kaziah (the States/France), Mélanie (Germany), and Sara (France).

Last weekend I had some fun. I had just gotten back from several hours shopping in Grenoble (equipping myself for the winter I wasn't prepared for!) when Allan came into the office asking if I wanted to go for a ride. It turns out this meant to Geneva to pick up some people from the airport! It sounded fun to me, so I hopped in the van (passport in hand), and took a quick trip to Switzerland. The 'quick trip' ended up being about 5 hours total, including some wait time at the airport, and was thoroughly enjoyable despite the grey clouds and fog that hid the mountains!

Otherwise, I've been delighting in buying up many fresh fruits and veggies, and cooking and making salads to my heart's content! All of the things that were unavailable to me in Africa have become huge treats. On Sunday I made Thai food for lunch with one of the other équipières, and it was heavenly! Tonight I had a good old zucchini stir-fry just like the kind I've eaten so many times at home, and a salad. All of the vegetables make my heart sing. Oh, what we take for granted!

Finally, two of the wives of the permanent staff asked me tonight why I don't stay at Champfleuri permanently, instead of going to Toronto in the fall. Although it's logical for me to go to Toronto and get my master's, and the thought of it is delightful to me, I didn't have a good answer for them, because as always Champfleuri is singing its siren's song to me and I am wondering why, indeed, I am not staying.

Franglais

2010-02-15T09:27:00.003-06:00

Here at Champfleuri we all speak French, English, or (most often) Franglais. We happily mix the two languages, often on purpose but sometimes not. It can get quite funny sometimes!

Yesterday I had a quite accidental use of Franglais that has left my linguistic head puzzling. I said "Oui, mais we mis les salades à côté le lavabo." ("Yes, but we put the salads beside the sink.") The only English word in there is 'we', but the way I put it in shows that I was thinking in English grammar and not French, because seemingly I took just half the past tense ('mis' instead of 'avons mis' that would normally go with first person plural past tense) and substituted it for 'put'. Anyone got any insights for me? I've never studied Franglais.

Hello again, France!

2010-02-08T10:32:00.002-06:00

Back in France, and here's the view from my bedroom window to prove it...

Walking

2010-02-05T11:31:00.003-06:00

Today is my last day in Mali. Tomorrow I catch my flight in the morning, and begin a long trip back to Grenoble. The last week spent in Koutiala has been wonderful, thanks to my gracious hosts and friends the Newmans. Although there were many things about the week that made it good, my favourite was the first part of each day: walking.

Every morning I would get up when I felt like it (usually between 7:30 and 8:30), shower, and then find Barry. Every morning the question was the same: "Feel like a walk?" And off we would go. Our destination was the bakery, about a 15 minute walk from their house. A couple days this seemed like too short a walk and so we headed for the milk store, about a half hour walk away. We would pick up a couple litres of fresh milk, and head on to the bakery to buy the bread for breakfast. After that sometimes we stopped at the pancake lady, who was frying up fresh pancakes on the side of the road. And after that, home.

It was fun. One time after picking up milk we drank it all as we were walking: after all, it was cold and fresh! Another time, we stopped in to watch some cloth-pounders at work, pounding wax into cloth shirts. Always, there were greetings exchanged with various people along the way, little children to shake hands with, cultural questions to which Barry usually had good answers, and interesting conversation. A very satisfying way to start the day!

My Hosts

2010-02-04T06:21:00.005-06:00

I've been staying with some great people since I finished up at the YWAM base on Saturday. I have been friends with Barry and Terry for a long time, and it's been fun to stay with them and see what life looks like for them here in Koutiala. They've been showing me a good time over the last week or so, too...

Each evening we would have a séance...

"Karen, that's NOT funny. No joking allowed in this household."

Just kidding!
(In reality we had power outages, not séances!)

(PS: Notice the really classy Roots sweater that Terry is sporting in the pic!)

Women's & Children's Hospital

2010-02-03T14:34:00.006-06:00

On Monday I had the privilege of being shown around the Women's and Children's Hospital here in Koutiala, where Barry and Terry are so involved. Here's an excerpt from its website:

The medical needs experienced by women and children in Mali are absolutely staggering, easily among the worst in the entire world. Approx. 1 out of 15 Malian women die in pregnancy or childbirth and 25% of children born here never see their 5th birthday.

In May of 2006 The Koutiala Women's and Children's Hospital, built on a 8 acre campus just outside the city of Koutiala in southeastern Mali, opened its doors providing full maternity services to the city and surrounding areas. The Hospital is a part of CPAM (Center Protestant for Assistance Medical) an NGO that also supervises six rural clinics within a 150 mile circle surrounding Koutiala.

Presently there are two main patient care buildings, one for women and the second for children with a third large maternity complex currently under construction. The existing women’s building has a modern delivery room and a well equipped operating theater. When the new complex is finished there will be three additional operating rooms and delivery space for up to ten simultaneous births.

It took most of the morning to tour this amazing facility, and I was very impressed. MUCH work has been put into it by both missionaries and nationals, as well as many donations from overseas. As a result, there is a beautifully functioning hospital that is providing care to many. Here are some pictures...

Part of a large warehouse storing all medical supplies.

One of the new buildings going up. This structure is a pre-fab brought over from the States and put up by volunteers. The rest of the building will go up soon. (I think it is intended to be wards but I'm not positive.)

Another building in the process of being constructed: this one is definitely wards, as well as six private rooms that will be available.

A new lab in construction.

A nearly completed new building. This will house consultation rooms, doctors' offices, a library (complete with internet access), a classroom, and the new lab pictured above.

One of the completed buildings: the Maternity Ward...

complete with operating room...

postdelivery ward...

laundry and sterilizing facilities...

and incubators for premies (plus a whole lot more).

This little one was so tiny; the picture doesn't do his size justice. He weighs a mere 960 grams. The mortality rate for premies under 1000 grams is very high, although the staff are doing everything possible to consistently lower that rate.

The children's ward: where the consultation rooms, waiting room, pharmacy, and doctors' offices currently are.

The waiting room, complete with TV!

An overview of the hospital, taken from the water tower (which I climbed up in a skirt. Fun times!). Behind us is the morgue, a small building set aside for the family to wash their dead and prepare them to be taken away for burial. Directly in front is the warehouse, and to the right is the children's ward. Beyond those are the rest of the buildings, with land beyond that to continue building in the future.

My tour guide. :)