Life Together

I'm thinking about this life together paper that I'm supposed to have written and posted for the world of Guilder's to read. I wanted to have something readable yesterday but, alas, it is now today and I haven't really made anything available expect my blogspot.

The reason for all this is that I am in 'overdrive' on the integration part of it all. You see, I live in a community whose goal is "life together" for Christ and with Christ. We aren't a hippy compound, just a simple house in the eastern suburbs of Paris France, full of people from the US and France. Some of us can't even speak to oneanother without avoiding 'miscommunication' because of the language. We are calling ourselves OIKOS, a greek term for "household" or "family." We share food, living space and ministry.

Since I am an intern, which is what OIKOS is made up of (interns and full-time workers (aka: missionary), I meet regularly with Jonathan, the full-time worker here. I mentioned that I was working on this paper and the book. I told him about CREDO, Steve Patty, and one of the toughest moments in my life: being rejected for a project that I thought I was capable of. I got to explain the pain of being refused (he knows just like any of us these feelings) and he listened. And then he encouraged me. It was a simple encouragement that I was growing and would continue to, his perspectives from these last 3 months. Funny, it doesn't change the disappointment of those moments or the fact that it happened, but I am reminded that I am indeed a part of the Body- destined for another project in another place for another purpose but with the same goal in mind. And I will continue to grow out of my faults by the grace of God who supports us so strongly until we physically reach His side.

Jonathan's reaction here within our little OIKOS experiment provides an glimmer of example that I want to dwell on in regards to Bonhoeffer's book. None of us is perfect and neither is our little house of saved sinners, but something is happening here that has immense value in the grand scheme of things. According to Bonhoeffer, the community lives out several things: togetherness in worship and love, solitude in the LORD, interpersonal ministries, outreach, and confession and community.

I'll leave it there for now and convert this to a paper for the Guilders... That's enough to keep the head spinning for the afternoon.

funny: my other blog is just as popular in Korea as it is in the US. And I don't speak Korean. I do know of one friend who's probably responsible for the hits... Can't wait til you visit Paris, Steve. We'll have to laugh about all the funny stories in a cafe.

Saturday, I worked with Elise on music for the 21st of June. France a music celebration where everyone gets out and plays or sings in the parks. A local church is going to do a small spectale into which I have been enlisted to play "gospel". So, Elise and I plugged the piano into a stereo and recorded the music so she could practice the parts and teach the choir. We had a blast laughing and singing "Oh 'Appy Day" and "Swing low."

Michelle and I took off around 2pm to sightsee. We decided to get off at Nation and walk to the Bastille. It was a beautiful day to walk and I took the little video camera along for kicks. We discovered green parks with children playing and parents "bronzing" in the sun. We bought icecream and had to apologize to all the french families who's kids squealed with delight that "there [was] icecream!" I tried the Rhum-raisin flavor. Yum...

We made our way into the Bastille and wandered through an outdoor market which reminded me of Saturday Market in Portland. We sat and talked in the make-shift bar/cafe and talked while people milled around checking out Chinese goods and donkey sausage and mimicking people as they went by; "Avec ce-ci?" "Ca te plait?" "Ah bon!"

Our final destination was the latin quarter. But first we walked along the Seine in search of some swing dancers. We found the location but no swing dancers. I will keep my eyes pealed from here out. I miss doing the Lindy Hop at the Viscount and swingin' in the park in Portland. Michelle and I found a little street and wandered down it to discover a nice Moroccan restaurant just outside of the Latin Quarter. We enjoyed the dinner and remarked the location for the next time we crave a nice Moroccan dinner.

Email me for pictures... I took a few and can sent them to you.

Today a man in a suit and tie was dancing in the metro station. It was a Friday after-work commute hour. He had a little stereo playing Michael Jackson and as he moonwalked and did the robot, people stood to the side and let him dance.

A skater carried to worn decks and stood next to me on the platform as we waited for our RER across town. He kept eyeing my Shorty's backpack. It was refreshing to be near those worn down shoes and he even seemed to have that gentle spirit that I miss amongst all my friends at skatechurch. I wondered where he was going when he got off at Nation. It seems that all the skaters get off at Nation. Some day I'm going to get off there and explore.

We ate dinner with the Dixon's tonight. They invited their upstairs neighbor, Eric. He is a third culture guy, having lived in many countries on 6 continents. We learned a lot as he talked about France and the culture here. My theory on conversation being an art was confirmed.

It may sound dull and mundane but I did laundry all day. We started with 5 piles in the living room and I still have one shift to make but it will have to wait til tomorrow morning. I think I can agree with Jadwa on this one thing: I love the smell of laundry detergent. Here in France I buy the Ariel kind and next time I'll purchase the Alpine scent. There's nothing like it! Who ever would have thought that I'd be ordering a t-shirt like Jadwa's that says Laundry Team on it and the number 02 to indicate my position...Bright green!!

I haven't heard much on my little nephew. I am waiting for the latest news and praying for his healing and recovery from the trauma. I pray for my sister and her husband too. I can't imagine what they are going through. One minute things are fine, they expect a baby in several weeks, and they will be a family of 5, healthy and happy. Suddenly an emergency c-section and a little boy is born a tad early and needing life support. The hours they spend in the hospital unable to even hold him, hoping, praying. I am praying for God's grace on them and on little "Zippy" Jonathan Douglas. It is tough to be auntie and be so far away and unable to do anything but pray. I don't know how to process the whole situation either. I need more information...

Tonight I enjoyed a delicious Italian sauce and pasta that Michelle was concocting as I walked in the door from school. I did make a trip to the store before we ate to "cherche le vin" and bread for tomorrow but all the extra walking made it so worth it!

I was so tired today. I slept on the RER both ways and my feet hurt from all the walking but it was nice to be back in class. There are a couple gals in my grammaire class who always invite me to go to coffee with them after class. The only bummer is that I am obliged to stay in my seat for another 2 hours of conversation. I am bummed cuz they seem so cool, one Ukranian and another eastern European. I hope that one day I can go to coffee with them. Today they took down my phone number though and said they plan to call me! I hope it works out to get together another time.

I think a lot about what my "ministry role" is here in France is for these two years and for after. I try to keep in mind what my gifting might be and what my dreams are. My parents mentioned that teams need a person committed to hospitality and this began to ring some bells for me. I keep praying that God will make it clear in time where I should be located and with which team. For now... I'll keep learning french and meeting people and getting braver to talk on the phone and invite people over.

Yesterday my folks and I wandered through the Champ de Mars at the foot of the Tour Eiffel and we found the gardens quite attractive and calm. The military was setting up a display in honor of tomorrow the 8th of May and as we found our way through the trees I discovered a little historic Paris that I've been searching for. It was an ancient carosel, hand powered by a crank and precise gears, colorful horses hanging in geometric organization. A little girl was being strapped to her "horsey" and had a little foot-long stick in her hand. The two men running the ride, started pushing the carosel around and as soon as it reached a "crankable" speed, took to the hand crank to perpetuate the ride. Then all the sudden, the little girl was squeeling with joy and as she came around and around I discovered that she had indeed snagged a couple silver rings on her stick. This was the real thing!!! I read about it in a book!!! The Parisian children do this!!! I looked harder at this contraption built in 1913 and saw that the little girl was collecting the rings from a stand on the far side. But it got more exciting as one of the men grabbed a magnetic stick and put a ring on it and moved to another side of the ride for the girl to catch.. she missed and missed and the man would run along side her to help her get it...

The whole scene reminded me of the movie "Man from Snowy River" when there is a contest and the men are riding horses as full speed and jousting the rings with swords. If I ever have a child here in Paris, I'll certainly take them to the carosel men to learn how to joust... and it takes precision... the rings are only about 2 inches in diameter!

I've just sent my parents off into Paris to find their train back to Frankfurt. It was wonderful having them here. I also know they are ready to be home and are anxious to see their new grandson. The little boy is doing much better and showing signs of recovery each day. We are praying for swift and full healing, health and now for Andrea to be able to hold her little boy on Mother's day.

We have a jour ferie again this Thursday. I intend to clean and get my life together book read and the paper more formalized. In the meantime, you can check out some photos from the reunion party at my place at David's link.

I know "everybody and their mother" knows about homestarrunner, but for those of you who need a link to actually visit it... you should. Check out Strongbad's email. I certainly get a kick out of "techno" since I live here in France and it is considered a popular music style.

Monday has arrived. My folks are here hanging out. Yesterday it was hot out- 30 C. which translates to about 80 F. Today...? Well the weatherman is predicting strong rain, thunderstorms and around 16 C. We don't know whether to believe him or not. Today I plan to take it easy with my parents and introduce them to some friends in NW Paris. But first, I'll go to grammaire class for 2 hours.

We're taking it easy because of some stressful events in the last 24 hours. My sister after nearly 9 months of pregancy had her little boy. He had to come a few weeks early. There was concern because he wasn't moving around as much as expected. The result was an emergency C-section and a little boy with lots of "fight". His name is Jonathan Douglas Terpening- my new nephew- who within 2 hours was showing good progress in recovery.

It has been rough on my parents who, even though here with me, planned to be there with Andrea the day he would have been delivered. Now with the little one in the ICU of U of Minnesota, undergoing major tests and expected to be there for weeks, there is an urgency to be home/in MN. Many prayers are being lifted up...

Friday has been and gone. It was actually a pleasant day. Last night, I slipped myself a medicine to kick the rest of my bug and slept like a baby... so hard in fact, that it took the phone to wake me at 9am. Fortunately, it was J just reminding me that I had a meeting with him in the next few minutes but that he would be a few minutes 'en retard' after taking Sammy to daycare.

I had good classes and felt decently well most of the day. Chelle and I went for dinner in Lognes at a chinese place where we shared a leisurely dinner. How nice it was to spend time just talking over the food, learning about one another, even suggesting the mundane like, So, do you wanna clean the bathroom this week and I'll take it next week? Check out her site for some pictures. I'm too cheap to pay for blogger-picture-privileges...mainly cuz I think I'll get out of control (now that I have Adobe Photoshop loaded on my Mac!!!!!) I also have just loaded the new killer iTunes 4 and found a bunch of radio stations that play through it and downloadable MP3s for $.90/each.

I've been fighting a bug of some sort. It has slowed me down just a bit. I missed a day of school and fortunately today is a bank holiday and I don't have school anyway. Two days ago, Tuesday afternoon, I returned home from school and greeted my new roommate, Michelle. It is a pleasure to have her here, moving in and settling down. The only bummer is that I'm not feeling well, and I pray she doesn't get it. On account of my messed up stomach, her debut french cooking experience was a chicken and veggie soup which is going to be wonderful as soon as I can eat more.

I had a great joy inviting friends to my house yesterday. They came from all over and we were reunited again after nearly 3 years. Of course, some of them see one another regularly but having a party at my place was especially fun for me even though I couldn't follow all the quick french, slang and jokes. I still enjoyed having them at my place and it was encouraging to just be around them. Sophie put her hand to the main dish and I worked on the salad as the boys brought munchies and dessert. In total, we were 8 people: Sophie, Lydia, Evrard, David, Ruben, David, et Swanson with his broken foot. What a joy for me to see my friends from 2000 all together again. I planning another BBQ for the near future and we will make sure Nico, Melanie, and Audrey show up this time!

I'm preparing for the arrival of Michelle. She will be here on Tuesday. The apt is pretty clean and I'm excited about making room for her and maybe even rearranging some furniture to give the place a little different feel... we'll see.

This morning I had more time to think about how God wants us to be obedient even when its frustrating. I practiced the worship songs for this morning at church and then it all seemed to "flop" musically speaking. I'm am learning to be content even with my feable efforts and smile, shake my head and know that one day I'll play and sing perfectly in heaven- but certainly not here. I keep trying, none-the-less. One rule that applies to swing dancing and church is that a good follow is flexible and willing to obey the leadership of the leader. And we always get better with practice!

Arrived home, I'm tired and my brain is hurting from its efforts but I've received an invitation to join my friend Severine again to see an exposition which includes some Titanic. She'll be here in a few minutes! I am jumping at the opportunity in hopes that an already tired brain will just shut down and quit trying so hard and I'll just start thinking and speaking french perfectly... FAT CHANCE!

I had another cool occasion to go out to dinner with some french people. I met some more of Sev's friends. The bummer was that I was so completely exhausted that night. We ate dinner in a fairly nice place in the shadow of Montparnesse. I will have to take someone there some day for dessert! :) I had a chocolate pudding/mousse/yumm... in a bed of mint syrup and mint leaves. Ahh.. it was close to dessert heaven.
I'm learning to get along with people who smoke. I guess I never had a ton of friends who smoked in the states but now I can say that I go out "smoking" with my friends. They, of course, do the smoking and I listen to french and try to speak.

I passed the Moyen 2 test again with flying colors. Its seems like maybe I'm not being challenged enough but at the same time I still feel like I'm doing necessary review. They say that Avance 1 will begin to explore the more complex grammar and we'll do more writing... but I remember doing this stage as well at CEF in Albertville. I know that I could use a step up in comprehension. The conversation class is such a wide divide that JB is getting frustrated trying to find ways to challenging both the advanced students and the ones who have yet to talk very much. He thinks I should move up to the mornings where the students are pushed but doesn't think there is enough space.

Yesterday I took time for myself. I decided what I wanted to do after my medical visit, which makes me legal in France. I found a cafe and sad down with Bonhoeffer (the book) and ordered lunch and a fresh squeezed oj. The moments were wonderful cuz I had no one telling me where to go, what to order and I had plenty of time to enjoy the ambiance of Paris. I allowed time to stop for a couple hours- just me and God, sitting in the sun in the heart of the city, surrounded my a gal on vacation with her "copain" and another on the phone and eating her pasta. I let the sun bronze my arms and face and sipped coffee. I realize that even though the race in my mind to keep up with transition and adjustment doesn't stop, I took time to appreciate Paris and the French way. I may have to take time for moments like that more often- to give me focus, perspective and time for my attitude to catch up with my knowledge.

J keeps reminding me to find ways to "let it out"...the happy and hard times. I think I just found one.

Being in France for a couple months now, I ask myself again, as I did in the states, "why would a person who claims to not believe in God, thank Him, or cry out to Him in times of pain or joy?"

I think I know why: God has set eternity in their hearts. Ecclesiastes 3:11

Life Together
I don't know why it is that I have such a problem reading. It has been suggested that I come from a generation who is story oriented or has even been labeled "post-literate". This seems to ring true for me: I know how to read; I can read when I have to; I don't prefer to pick up a book but I love story; I have great desire to know what is in certain books but not to read them. All this to say that I have not yet breached halfway through Bonhoeffer's book called Life Together.

I will track a little through my thoughts and experiences though in a "life together" house where I am currently living, called OIKOS, and through the book as far as I have gotten.

Theme 20: Living together/ community/ fellowship of the followers of Christ is a privilege. More often than not, we get sick of one another and can take "only so much" thus resorting to once a week encounters for a couple hours maximum. Where in the heck did we come up with this idea? If I remember Acts 2 correctly they were meeting together daily and sharing everything in common. Paul preached until one dude fell out a window half asleep. So what if you're tired or distracted or pained or drugged or artistic or dull...come and BE WITH THE PEOPLE.
On a personal note, I have recently undergone the "thumb of God" crushing the little pride that rears its ugly head every chance it gets slapping around the people in my OIKOS. I learned, 'again', about asking for forgivness. But I also learned how bouyish my OIKOS can be when forgiving- encouraging me to get back up again and keep going. J even put it in terms of Mission Impossible, "don't hit the self-destruct button". I could just see the little cassette smoking along with all the valuable information and in my case, a dream and potential to serve God in a way that I never would if I decided to "smoke".

Theme 27: "God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by God, by others, and by himself.....So he becomes, first an accuser of his bretheren, then an accuser of God, and finally the despairing accuser of himself." What a destructive, devicive tool of Satan to kill the OIKOS. Community is not created or ordained by one person- it is formed of natural causes by the group and the variety of individuals are what gives it shape.

Theme 29: Just a little reminder that being thankful for the small things renders God more likely to bestow the great things.

Theme 34: The danger of human love: seeks itself, doesn't regard truth, only desires for itself and thus has potential for "hatred, contempt and calumny". The spiritual love referred to several pages later is founded upon the Word of truth. Such a different concept than we dwell upon normally: serves rather than desires. "... Life together under the Word will remain sound and healthy only where it does not form itself into a movement, and order, a society, a collegium piaetatis, but rather where it understands itself as being a part of the one, holy, catholic, Christian Church, where it shares actively and passively in the sufferings and struggles and promise of the whole Church" (37).

I see some contemporary translation necessary here: I think that since recently the word "movement" is used favorably to term the Church, I will keep it as positive, but specify that what we should be warned of here is the institutionalization, organization, and pure management of an local Church or group of believers. There is inherently organization in an organism which lives and breathes but the function of the organism is more important than its organization. I don't sit around all day and tell my heart to beat or even ponder why it keeps pumping. I live each day and each moment as they come at me and all my parts react as they should.

Holy= set apart and pure to a certain purpose, Catholic= universal, Christian Church= local gathering of Jesus followers and (do I dare say it?) searchers. It was put to me recently that maybe our churches should be full of people searching and "recovering", not 'pretty' people. I'm tired of keeping my sin a secret, tired of hiding the 'bad girl' in me because of some institutional congregation, meeting in some huge building, projecting some unspoken rule against confessing sin to one another because we are all now repented and clean. I'm looking for a place I can keep coming clean, just as Jesus blood continues to cover me yesterday, today and forever.

Movie I liked: Seranade
Watched a movie at the Heckman's called Seranade. It got me thinking a lot about cultures and religious ties and stongholds. The story is of a young woman who is half native Austrailian and half Afghani. She has 7 years with her animistic mother and the rest of her life with her Muslim father. She has connection with a Lutheran mission when young. Although the movie is produced by secular, austrailian directors, it brings forth many downfalls of missionaries. In this case the Lutherans are blowing it big-time by imposing western christianity upon natives and exploiting Afghans. The Muslim faith is portrayed full and yet words mean nothing to Jida but an arranged marriage is worth attempting suicide over and in the end she returns to her animistic roots. One huge theme jumped out at me though during one scene: When dishonor and shame are to behad, blood must be shed. Sounds a little familiar: When separated from perfection, payment with blood is necessary (Genesis 3- Revelation).

Sometimes I can't figure myself out. All in one day I can have a full range of different feelings ranging from stress to joy, pain to excitement, fulfilment to loneliness. Sometimes it seems like down feelings won't ever end and at other times I remember that I will come out on the "up side." Since Monday was a day off, I took advantage of meeting some friends up in the north of Paris. I was absolutely encouraged by talking with these cutting edge people, hearing their stories and learning from their wisdom. They opened their home and put me up for the night too! After the presentation of so many thoughts concerning cultural differences between americans and arabs and french, my head is spinning. I want to find the sweet spot in the culture where I feel at home. I want to find qualified ways of bridging into people's lives, French and Arab neighbors.

Today in conversation class the issue of euthanasia came up. JB watched me and Adrienne closely since Canada and America are usually in the spotlight when it comes to this subject. I was allowed to explain some of what I understood had happened in America with Dr. K. I listened to several students bat around their opinions and JB play the devil's advocate (against). One gal says she couldn't let a close suffering family member go through with it, but when it came to her- she'd want to freedom to finish herself. JB kept his eye on me and I finally threw out the fact that much of a person's opinion was based upon their worldview, how they viewed mankind and life, and morality. I almost wanted to breach abortion but I kept my mouth shut. I felt like I had returned to Harper's Ethics class but this time it was for real and in French. It was strange: at one point I looked around the table at the faces and realized that behind their opinions- whatever they may be- there is fear of unknown and what comes after death. Thank goodness I have proof of life after death: Jesus resurrected and "re-living"!

Tomorrow I get to do an evaluation again. If I pass, I'll move up again to Avance 1 which is a two month course. I'm not really sure what to study because there was no real "programme" laid out at the beginning of the class but we've been reviewing for a week now and I'm feeling ok about it. I think I'm getting better but sometimes I feel as if I've plateaued- that dull spot where one doesn't see much progress.

Its been a rigorous last couple weeks though and I think I've learned more about myself and the culture than I did last month and its ok that my language isn't forefront in my mind. I'm learning to lean on my living God for support when it feels lonely, hard, even joyful. Its a relieving thought that down the road, this adaptation time will become less and less painful til one day, I won't even notice so much.

Dr. Patty classes and themes always seem to pop up out of no where as I live life. This time it comes from CPD. The main idea is to bring the students from point A to point B without point-blank lecturing them but actively organizing the curriculum so that they will stumble upon the truth. I'm in the school of life. Sometimes the profs aren't adept at curriculum development.

I'm coming to understand, again, that the best place to run to when I feel any sort of sentiment, is to Jesus. It is even more evident when the normal comforts of relationship are stripped away that Jesus is and will be the only one who will really be able to take me the way I am. I have learned, again, that I can't run to people around me- we don't necessarily speak the same language; I can't run to culture- they do things differently here and often backwards from what I expect; I can't turn to a close friend- they aren't here to see my face and pray with me and listen to me cry; Jesus is here, he speaks my language, he understands my personal culture, and he's already praying for me.

Apart from the fact that I'm completely wiped out, I'm feeling horribly homesick and noone is willing to try to understand, today was an interesting day where I got to see and hear first hand how little the French people in general know about Easter. They don't know what its about or else have trouble saying what they know. The most interesting part of the day was filming people's responses to a few simple questions: Do they celebrate Easter? What does that entail? and What do they think the celebration is for?

Its been a horrible day and I'm crying my way through the rest of it.

Ok before we head out today (monday), its like this: J keeps telling us we are a bunch of poor souls partying our hearts out at a party fit for the King. Today we're going out into the streets to collect all the others who are invited. Some are going to have "other important things to do" while there will be more poor and needy who will accept the invitation to come celebrate the living God/Man with us! Party on!

Sunday has come and gone....almost. Evangelistic outreach at Pontault is taking up lots of time. There are now 5 of us at the house and after a few bumps in the road the white van is now running (battery needed charging after sitting for too long in the drive). Today I saw and was part of the formation of the team for this week. We have two goals: give gifts and invite folks to the weekend festivities. For me it has been a learning experience. I have been formed in a sense too. The "campaigns" that I was a part of in 2000 are taking on a new shape. I am learning bunches from those who have walked the road of "changement" in the last few years. What is exciting about this outreach is that it isn't just our team that is out doing all the work or the face to face meeting of people; the church is highly active in praying and have been for the last month. Today we invited those interested to join us is learning how to knock on a door and give a gift to people without coming across too Christian, too "sectish", but clearly present who we are and what we are doing quickly. It's a learning time: about team, for the language, for culture and ministry, and of myself.

Sometimes I feel like a scrambled egg: I'm trying to survive in a different environment, speak a different language, keep my eyes on Jesus, obey what he has called me to, continue to dream, not get discouraged, continue to seek out the best method to live each day by, "make new friends but keep the old,"- all the time in a hot pan.

tonight as I brush my teeth and say good night to a long week, I say good morning to the evangelistic outreach of Pontault. The house is cleaner and ready to be in order for a week of craziness. I will be busy and not very available to write, let alone read or finish my guild paper which was due a day ago or two... I'm late, oh, well. I have good intention to get it finished before long.

Saturday I had a conversation with a french friend and we talked about the war. She expressed frustration with the injustice that seems to be falling on the Iraki people. I had to agree with her because it seems that they are caught in what should be a personal wrestling match between two world leaders. I haven't found an easy answer to this problem nor that of "why handicap children are born to great people". The one thing that does ring in my ears, says, "If you obey, I will bless you, you and your children, even to the 4th and 5th generation." But disobedience will act like pollution and at a certain point God threatens to turn them over to their own desires, which destroy them. Sin is like pollution...this world is polluted by sin and we are being drug into a gnarly hole by our own choice from day 1. People ask me if there is one person I'd like to meet from history, who it would be. My answer: EVE. I'd ask her why in the heck she did it. The crazy part is that I know the bigger story and purpose for which The Lamb served- from the First Passover, into tradition, and right up Jesus, the final Sacrifice, and on to restoration. Even better, I am convinced of it! My friend wrote me and told me how God has revealed this bigger understanding to her...even though it is difficult, it matches the bigger picture. I pray for the end of the Iraki war, just the same; I also pray for the proper rebuilding of that nation.

Where does the time go? A day or two ago I was riding the "sardine train" home and I noticed a few people. I've always been a people watcher. I used to go to the mall just for the fun of it when in High School and walk and watch people. (The funniest was a guy with a wifebeater tucked into his sagging jeans that were strapped to his hips and slung under his butt... or the cross-dresser who was about 6'5" with his red pumps and blue mini skirt and blond madonna wig; Ah, good 'ol Tacoma WA.) For these to personages that I saw in Paris my heart actaully pondered their person. The first was a young man, probably my age, tall and directed into our crowded car by a metro attendant. He carried is eyes in his hand and immediately found the pole to hang onto. He was blind. I've seen blind people before but this guy looked to be a professional business man, carrying his briefcase and cane. He probably made it a daily ritual to board the train at Auber, grab the pole and say "excuse-me" as he put his briefcase on the floor. Right now its spring in Paris and so beautiful. He can't see it. Sometimes I wish I had the audacity to act as one character in a movie I have seen several times now: Amelie Poulin, running up next to the old blind man she has seen around for years and helping him cross the street explaining all that is around, including the price of meet at the butcher and what the children out side the store are looking at.

The other man I noticed was an African man. I noticed him because of some scars on his face. My first thought was that maybe he had been attacked by an animal because they resembled large cat scratches. But I relented and soon concluded they were there on purpose because of their symatry... two on each cheek and two roughly centered on his forehead. All six fell from upper cheekbone to jaw or from hair to eyebrows and I realized that it was most likely from some ceremony in a tribe. His dark brown eyes darted around the train and I suddenly was struck with the reality of an active tribe somewhere in Africa where this man had grown up and now he was moving about in a huge metropolitan in Europe; he looks to be only in his early 30s. What kind of god does he serve? What does he fear most? What must that transition have been like for him?

So I've discovered a little bit of heaven here on planet earth. I thought Starbucks did a pretty good job with their coffee and ice cream but I have to admit that for a small price I can indulge in a dangerously wonderful few minutes every once in a 'very-rarely' while. The week that I decide to eat such a thing, I require myself to find a couple extra sets of stairs. Only the French could concoct such a dessert: espresso custard on a bed of carmel topped with a skiff of chocolate sprinkles that I just happen to barely broil served in a little glass "pot". Unfortunately, these little devils come in packs of two at the local grocery store... Man, I can't wait till my roommate gets here to help me out.

Looking forward to seeing you, Michelle.

We all see through a grid
I've become frusterated with the political situation in the world today. I have decided that no one can give a clear concise answer to what is happening, nor can anyone really just report the details. I have given up hope in all media including american, french, british and Iraki. The best I can do is to read the opinions of others. Here's a place to begin hearing the "Al-Opiniat"s. All the Al's out there are self expressing and that gives me enough to think on.

When Madlibs require French

Today my [noun] journee was full. I woke at 8:30ish and started my workcenter: the 'laptizzy'. I [verb] m'attendais [noun] un appel from my friend in the States. I had [adjective] pleine de things to do today [conjunction] mais never [verb] arrivee to do them. I talked to [noun] mon ami on the telephone which did me [expression] du bien .

Before I knew it my day was halfway [adj] fini and Karen was asking if I wanted [adverb] encore to help her color her [noun] cheveux . I jumped into action [conjuntion] parce que I had invited a friend for [noun] le dejeuner and I knew she would be arriving sometime during the noon hour. Karen and I [verb] s'est mises to the task and it worked out so that I was just finishing the color job when Sophie [verb] est venue . We had [noun] salade and rice and chicken from [noun] la soiree last night and she brought [noun] le dessert which was a Paris Brest and a small pear tarte which were [adj] incroyable !

We talked the whole afternoon in [a language] Francais and discussed young Christians and the issue of [noun] mariage and [sentiment] la peur of divorce. [Conjunction] Puis , we conversed about [noun] la guerre and the story of history and how God is the Author of this story and we how should be praying our way through [noun] l'injustice and pain and uncertainty with certainty of His victory [conjuntion] et justice.

It was [train time] 18:30 before we knew it and we took off for [shopping center] Carrefour to do some shopping. Among all the things I had [expression] besoin de faire today, the shopping was probably [definate noun] la seule chose that I was able to complete. It cost [adv] cher but I feel [sentiment] contente that I found shoes and a unmarked sweatshirt to [verb] porte around Paris. I won't be going shopping now for quite some time.

"Therefore, let him who until now has had the privilege of living a common Christian life with other Christians praise God's grace from the bottom of his heart. Let him thank God on his knees and declare: It is grace, nothing but grace, that we are allowed to live in community with Christian brethren." I'm reading Deitrich Bonhoeffer's Life Together. Interestingly enough it is assigned reading for a guild associated with Dr. Steve Patty in Portland OR and not with OIKOS. We are supposed to write a paper on its 122 pages discussing Christian fellowship and I am already thinking I'll just attach my blog site to the blank document for the other Guilder's to read...

Living together is a privilege. This really makes me think about the Christians scattered all around the world. We long to be together, but that time really would actualize until the angels gather us from the 4 corners of the earth. Bonhoeffer mentions the sick, imprisoned and exiled believers and how they have no access to this rich time believers share with one another at times...such as once a week. What a pity that we can come together celebrating each Sunday and what a greater pity that we don't try on weekdays.

My life has taken a turn for the change in the last couple months. I moved from one country to another and into a ministry where the entire focus is living together....constantly. Soon, we pray, this house where I live will be filled with Christian brothers and sisters learning to live in harmony for the Glory of the Lord with a desire to spread it around and actively doing so in a local body of believers. Already the church body at Claye shows massive signs of this kind of living during its Sunday morning service. I'm beginning to think I'm "on to something..."

"Everyday is a winding road..." We all have to learn one day or another the meaning of the word "greve". In my case, I learned the word 4+ years ago in language school. Today I learned the sense of the 'mot'. I even took off early for the RER station in hopes that I might just be able to board as normal the next train that screech's to a halt in front of me every day. I joined a 'foule' of people standing around in the station and read the schedule screen which was abnormally a large yellow block of french saying that all the A ligne was very "purterbed" and something to the effect of no connections at a couple particular stops. I stood amongst the crowd and listened to the person behind the ticket counter tell person after person that there wasn't any info and that there hadn't been any trains for a while, etc... I decided to brave asking one gal standing there who said there had been "aucun train, et aucan renseignment." I decided to faire la greve as well... I walked home.

While the train operators strike, I'm taking the moment to play and worship in my apt and I'm about to pick up my school books to see if I can guess what Francoise is teaching on today. Maybe I'll pumult my brain with a french film too...

What a relief it is to have a new grammaire prof. Francoise is a great lady, very patient- maybe too patient- and clear, sharing french culture and history with us along the way. It doesn't seem to be too difficult yet but I've only had 2 days of classes. My anticipation is that it will continue to push me into more and more complex sentence structureing and I think we'll start writing more and more. My only problem at this point in the stage of the game is that I'm completely tired. Its not so much my physical body that is tired from stairs or working out but my brain which after a certain point can't keep up with the speed of french life. Its ok. My brain is a muscle in that way and just needs "to get in shape".

There is crisp spring air out now. The wind will blow pretty decently and the grey clouds come in varying brightnesses because of the rising or setting sun.

It was nice knowing them but now they have to go. I purchased a cool pair of shoes in the states that are beginning to show signs of falling apart. I guess Paris was a little harder on them than I anticipated. Now I'm looking at kicking down some serious cash on some serious shoes. That's what a walking city does to you...

So the end of another Sunday has dawned. It was only a 23 hour day. Today I realized a lot of things about myself and where I am at here in ministry. The church at Claye continues a dramatic movement as a community. I don't think I said but a few words all morning long. I was fatigued and emotionally run down. The already crowded meeting room was encumbered by a wooden cross and a couple hammers laying in the isle...totally out of fire code.... There was a theme that presented itself as Thierry and Jonathan lead the service: "This cross that bugs/disturbes us." It was physically in the way and it is also a weighty subject in our Christian faith. During the service we circled our chairs around it as a young woman and new believer shared her testimony. We followed her into communion and the physical nailing of nails into the cross. It was a powerful time. Not only that, but during communion, one woman approached the witness and they cried as they reconciled a long standing and serious conflict. I don't know that I have ever seen anything like that in my entire Christian life: public resolution during communion at the foot of a disturbing cross.

After the service, I spoke briefly with the leader of the women's Bible study that I am attending Tuesday mornings. I took a brave step to "try and explain" the feelings I have at this stage in the journey that God is bringing me on. It is a dry time for the fellowship aspect of the Christian life. I can't fully enter into the prayer times or the community sharing times. I can listen and understand a fair share but I can't contribute as easily. What I miss most is RUG with Jeanette: meeting 2 times a week to do some Reckless Unhindered Godchasing. I know that these days are valuable and one day I will move through them into deeper fellowship with the Christian family here; but I am stuck for the moment feeling the frustration of incapability.

What I really need at this time is comprehension of my stage and acknowlegment that it's the way things are....no need of answers, that it will be over soon, or to keep working hard at the language cuz one day I'll learn how to pray, or even much consolation. I just want my feelings to be acknowledged. Nothing more. They say I'm just tired and need to rest or take some time for myself. Maybe... but for the moment, this is the tough stuff.

On the other hand, a splendid "gift" was delivered tonight to the OIKOS apt: a full sized piano. Oscar has lent it to me and what a joy it is to even have it just sitting here. I was 18 the last time I had such access to a piano. This is an incredible answer to prayer and a God-thing.... Him just knowing what I needed and passing it along through the grapevine.

It's weird, but for some reason I'm highly sensitive to even the things that happen at home and with my family. You would think it wouldn't be such a big deal to have family moving from Seattle to Minneapolis when I have just moved all the way to Paris. Well, it still is. Especially when mom recounts how Anna cried as she was peeled from "Grandpa's" sholders to board the airplane, yet the "stoic" Spiger-clan shed no visible tears. Not so here.

I'm praying for the "fin de la guerre". But I have a feeling that this is only the tip of the iceberg: "....when you hear of wars and rumors of wars...."

The clouds have finally arrived as they predicted would happen several days go... but they're late. I don't know if it will rain though... the temp is mild. Today is the last day of Moyen 1 with Alexandre. Next week I start up in Moyen 2 with someone new. I think I'll ask today if I can just switch afternoons for mornings the week of the campaigns. That will be best cuz the mornings are very full as I hear.

Do I look Canadian? I sometimes wish I was.

War. I know I can trust God and for some reason, but for some reason I think I forgot to pray to the God who controls all, places and displaces authority. For now, one soldier blogs and leaves this link available for those of you who would like to hear one Iraki's perspective. Read more of my thoughts at my other blog.

For near fear that people would want to see my apartment this evening, I busted my bootie to get it in order and cleaned up. Of course no one wanted to see it but it's now clean...or cleaner and in less disarray than before. We still have to move the boxes of dishes downstairs into the basement but everything feels so much nicer. I had a 100 or more sets of dishes at the beginning when I arrived and so I began a near impossible task of selecting those which would serve best in my cupboard and to get the rest out of here. Ah, relief!

I spent the evening listening. The church at Claye has small groups that meet weekly and they're looking for a way to get them together in a larger sum to pray and share (as far as I can understand). I am very excited to watch the group of believers move along and really I'm just getting to know them and the system in which they move and the order of their community. We say sometimes that ministry is messy. Most people don't like miss (like me in my apt) but living can be messy, and sin is the root of this mess and we, although redeemed live in a messy, non-renewed earth. Mess remindes me that I'm in process and whenever I make a step to clean it up, I am pushed to the conclusion that it will one day be perfected by the Father. Of this, I'm sure- no matter what war, no matter what sin...

And now a word on why I'm learning French, brought to you through the e-grapevine (Thanks Reilly Gibby):
Here is the final word on nutrition and health.  It's a relief to know the truth, after all those conflicting medical studies.
1.  The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
2.  The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
3.  The Japanese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
4.  The Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
5.  The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
CONCLUSION:  Eat and drink what you like.  Speaking English is apparently what kills you!

Ok, so I've just been blasted through with info from this sight. I would encourage you all to look at it cuz it gives a super clear explanation of my heart and desire and direction in ministry. Not only that, but it fairly decently describes what I'm doing right now!! Every once in a while I like to go fishing around from link to link in the chain of people and this time I fell into the emerging church movement.

J'ai réussi mon examen! I did better than I thought I would and passed with flying colors only to move up a notch starting next week on Tuesday. We get a "pont" this weekend through Monday! This is a 3 days weekend and I am very much looking forward to it since vacation is scarce at the institute where I have chosen to study for the time being.

They tell me 3rd time's a charm. I believe it. Here in France, it seems persistence is a virtue when it comes to the system. J and I made the 3rd run to the Prefecture today and used photocopies of my visa application docs and were allowed a hearing with the nice ladies behind the first desk who refused us twice before. It actually went as smoothly as possible and unhitched me from having to open a french bank account. This is a praise!

I arrived in town to take my exam covering this last month of school. It was only 2 pages and wasn't as comprehensive as I suspected. I took a little extra time to expound upon my essay at the end for extra points just in case i totally blew a previous section and came away feeling pretty good overall. My hope is to move up from Moyen I to Moyen II and change to morning classes from these afternoon ones that I've been taking. In order to change they tell me I have to compose a letter to the director explaining the necessity of changing. I'll give it my best stab and then ask for a proof-read from a native.

The RER had some sort of issue today as I went to run the stairs or what I call my "Etoile workout" (consisting of 3 sets of stairs twice a day). They recommended taking the Metro which I did. You more or less get sucked or shoved into the Metro at this time of the day. We were crammed in like sardines and people actually were cracking jokes and complaining to complete strangers. One lady yelled at some people who were trying to squeeze in at the last moment before the buzzer sounded, "Come on people...!" At one stop several young tourist boys from Italy wanted to try to get in, but the French gentleman at the door shook his head and clicked his tongue at them and they turned away: there was absolutely no space. I contemplated the anxiety a claustrophobic person would experience should they have joined me on my ride home...

I noted the Italians because one prof told me that the sun arrives with the Italians at Easter Break. They're early and so is the sun... I'm not complaining though!

How wet is your motzerella when you buy it? Mine, well, it comes in a NON-vaccum-packed bag, which, upon cutting open pours out a very watery/milky fluid. Fortunately I was warned and I had a "zipbox" ready. I put the ball of pure white cheese in the box with some of its "milk". Now and again I fish it out of the fridge and slice a round off for a salad, pizza, etc... It wouldn't stand a chance in the shredder if it wanted to. Its texture is more like congealed pudding with a little extra support around the edges. It smears, slimes, and squishes and tears and allows itself to be cut by a knife, but will never be shredded.

The weather here is absolutely incredible. The sun is actually warm and I wonder if it really is mid-March. I have this feeling of wanting to go out and catch some rays.

The language learning process is a tough one. Most of the time is a mental challenge everytime I go out, speak or am caught off guard. Every once in a while though, a ray of hope springs through the brain-strain: like for some reason, the phrase you just concocted sounded different but more natural and was accented correctly. That happened this morning as we went off in the car. I said something quite insignificant, I am sure, and it had a refreshingly smooth and flowing feel to it. One small ray for this "Picasso"...

I was asked to play a few songs at church today. Thierry and his wife played along with guitar and flute. It was extremely nice to play again, though unrehearsed and a return to unfamiliar songs for me. No longer are the chords written out in A, B, C etc... but they are suddenly transformed on a strange formula, which any good American would recognize if they looked hard enough and reflected on "The Sound of Music". That is to say, 'Do, Ré, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Si, Do...." All the same it was nice to finally prop myself up to a keyboard, aided by my WorshipTogether books, to play "Dieu a une armée".

I am trying to review the grammar we were to have learned this past month. Tomorrow is the test that will determine whether I move up or not. I really want to move up and I only need a score of "dix sur vingt" (ten out of twenty) to pass. This may seem crazy to an American that a score of 50% is passing but here in France, testing is tougher and normal people usually get about 13-14/20 on tests and it is considered average. My test will ask me to work in the area of pronouns and the subjunctive tense as well as the conditional. As my prof says, "The french hate to repeat themselves" so they have created an elaborate collection of pronouns ranging from masculine, feminine, plural and neutral pronouns to replace every possible concept on the planet. Not only do we need to know the collection but the order you are to use them in in any given sentence.

bonne chance...they all are telling me.

"Here Leezard, Leezard, Leezard.." That's what my friend Shan calls me affectionatly. I like it, cuz I can see her calling me with that little pet voice...

The day the war started I rode into Paris like usual. One thing I find quite curious is all the street musicans, those who jump on the train for a few stops to play a melody or two and ask for complementary change and then descend at the next available stop. It was a quiet train until 'they' got on. 'They' just happened to be the Tracy Chapman special. A player of a 5 string bass and a guitarist who sang through a northern origin accent. I think they weren't from France at all. They were actually quite good and I felt a little nostalgic of the days living with Diane Hurst on Hawthorne, Blossom snoring while I tried to study late into the night and then a twinge of pain at "talking about a 'revolution'." A reality noone can escape... In some ways I think the world of terror had it coming after pulling off 9/11 and in other ways I'm distraught at the political, economic, and social repercutions such an endeavor has on a world community. I pray it will be over soon with as little loss of innocent life as possible.

Tonight I attended a young adults group from the church at Noisy-Champs. It was a great time of sharing and praying and hearing testimony. Truely a family of young people are fellowshipping and I was allowed in. There is a new believer among them. She was many years in coming to a saving faith but the Lord has captured her and you can see it in her face and hear it in her story. I pray now for her and the spiritual attacks that continue to plague her. It is a familiar story that I am hearing here in France: the spiritual oppression is more evident than we'd like to imagine.

The guys came and fixed my shower today!! I got a nice glasslike box to encapsulate me as I "douche" each morning. They also left me a brand new faucet in the sink. So cool! I can't wait to give it a try tomorrow after I scrub it down really good. [Having worked in the cleaning business brings a new meaning to "clean shower"]. Its finally the weekend and I'm ready to clean and study for my exam on Monday as well as go to church again at Claye. This week I may have the opportunity to play the piano for a few songs. This is one of the greatest "misses" that I have here in France... a real piano that I can play at my leisure and a band as tight as that of Sunday Nights at CB. I miss those guys... Keep clapping on the "soul" beat, guys...I get to teach the french how to do it now...

U2 always makes me feel better. I slept in this morning. Its already 10am and I haven't even taken my shower yet. I ate one of my favorite breakfasts today: Special K with Apricot Yogurt on top. I can't stand drinking the milk here. I need to continue my studying. Last night I worked on cruising through a borrowed grammaire book and it is very clear with hints along the way as well as many examples. I'll see if I can review the conditional tense before I go into class today. That way I'll already know what he "supposed" to be talking about. I still have a ton of catch up to do though: Subjunctive, durations of time, the list could go on forever.... For now, ROCK ON U2!


A funny quip that I've been living with since I arrived has been that my bathroom is for the most part unfunctional. The faucet broke off the sink a few days before I arrived and the shower leaks pretty bad and had caused the break up of floor tiles. Thus, I have not used it except to store extra towels and the funny pink toilet paper they sell over here. There has been a plus to not having a bathroom up here in my apt: I've been allowed to use the beautiful new one downstairs in the basement! I get to do an invigorating run down my outdoor steps in 4 degree C weather and unlock 2 bolts but enjoy a nice new bathroom! Well the "week" of hope has arrived! The men are supposed to come and fix my leaky shower and present me with a wonderful blessing! Not only will my square meter'age' increase from the smaller one downstairs but it will have these nice sliding and sealing doors to prevent any furture leaking... The only part of this quarkochronic society is that we don't really know WHEN they'll actually show up. :)

You know those days where it seems so long that it was like two days. Well, that's how I feel about today. I'm glad its almost over. The first "day" was great. I actually scraped myself out of bed to attend a ladies Bible study for several women from Claye. I really enjoyed it although it was quite fatiguing. I followed more or less all that was said and I even ventured, shaking in my boots, to pray again in French. I realized that I had set a standard for myself Saturday by trying to pray in French. Now I can't go back. I will forever have to keep trying. Today I kept it simple though and suceeded at communicating to God in French even though it wasn't so profound.


The second "day" tore me up. I've been frustrated by a grammer prof who persistently refuses to listen to us and answer our questions. Today, I got fed up and was ready to walk out. I wanted to cry but didn't until the second class in conversation. I really cried when I got home and unloaded in my Picasso french to Karen. I'm going to see what options I have for switching classes. If I choose to stay, I will bust a move on my own to understand the grammer of my own study so I can pass the exam at the end of the month and be promoted to a higher level grammer class. We discovered I don't get any vacation either until the end of May. I think there are 3 days that are national holidays. Those will help a little. Until then, its study study study. I'm getting tired and my eyes are dry. Its time to put this day to bed and pray for a better one tomorrow.

Do I like chocolate rice pudding? Well it sure tastes good when, by freak incident, it takes you 2 hours to get home because of an "accident grave" at la station de Nation, which means that someone decided they didn't like their life and jumped in front of the RER on which I normally ride home. A tragedy of this caliber causes much pain in my heart as I think of the life that ended. It also causes a huge "bouchon" in the RER traffic (bouchon= literally the cork in a bottle of wine) and as I listened to the suggestion of the "annonces" at Etoile, I took the Metro au lieu de la RER from Etoile to Nation which only landed me standing in a 5-6 person deep line up all along the quai. The trains were slow in coming and when I finally joined the "sardines" who balanced themselves silently by mere immobility, they demanded we all decend at another station to wait for a train that took 20 minutes to arrive and was so full that you would have had to crowd surf to get in. So I waited and jumped the next which happened to branch in the wrong direction than I needed. Fortunately by God's grace, I felt like jumping out of the train at my last chance and got the next correct train. When I got off the RER at 7:30, the full moon was painted against a sunset nuanced nightblue sky.


I was extremely tired today but managed to make it through my classes. Jean Baptiste brings me the Saturday NYTimes suppliment to Le Monde. He says I am the student that would most appreciate it. JB is a really encouraging prof. He always asks us now if we are understanding our grammar and uses words like "Bravo!" and "C'est juste" to keep us going in conversation.


I've been pursuing, with the aid of Jonathan, my carte de sejour. What a fiasco! The Consulat did not return my original documents with my Visa so I am stuck here with a visa that will expire if I don't get the carte de sejour soon. We already visited the Prefecture one time last Friday, and so our trip this morning was the second stop on our wild goose chase and rendered me a headache to go on top of my fatigue. I am searching for my papers now with a vengence. I found the email address of a representative in Portland and have emailed her. My next step will be call her, but with the track record from last fall (nearly 10 calls before contact), I doubt I'll actually get to talk to her on the phone.


An interesting histoire has unfolded from the trip to the Pays Basque. The team of us (Griffins, Schlange's and Probasco) met a young french basque guy who surfs. It was one of those crazy encouters where we got so busy that it looked impossible to meet with him in the short amount of time we were destined to be in French Basque territory. I had a couple conversations with him on my cell phone and the evening we arrived at our host home near Bayonne I talked to him once again to try to apologize for us not being able to meet with him. He wouldn't stand for it but squeezed a time and place out of me to meet us the following day. We showed up and met a cool kid- with a feather in his hat- who promptly drove us to his favorite surf spots and introduced us to his surfing buddies. We stood in the coastal rain and watched his buddies brave the breakers which were 3 times the size of the day previous. I got thoroughly soaked but enjoyed each moment until we said goodbye at the train station (I returned to Paris). Jean Yves must have been ready to hear the Gospel when we encountered him cuz I just got word today from the French host and house church host in the area that Jean Yves accepted the LORD the weekend after our departure in full, truthful conversion! Who would have guessed?!! Praise the LORD for calling a young man and prayerfully his pregnant girlfriend will follow soon! JY is now surfing Tahaiti but already dreams of returning to reach his Basque family for the LORD! I'm starting pray for my place... Experiences like this, brushing so close to me, get me all too excited to live for Christ here in France!


Bref, one life lost to dispair, one life gained for the sake of Christ! A somber hallelujah....

All these few weeks that I have been here, J keeps talking about the "tallskinnykiwi" and how he keeps tabs on this emergent thinker. One weekend before I left the States, my friend Alissa told me about some guy's blog and that I should check it out. She scribbled the link on a small piece of paper that happened to make it to France in all my little things and I discovered that it was the very same "tallskinnykiwi"...


I'm going through a strange period of time where I am assimilating the fact that I live here now. I've always struggled with where I'm really from. Sometimes I say from Graham, sometimes its "near Seattle" and more often now its "Portland". I persist in the thinking that I am an "alien" just passing through this earth but other times I talk about home as being the states. But every day now I walk over the same cobblestones, up and down the same stairs, board the RER in the same car so that I'll be descending near my exit tunnel, walk past the same chocolatier on the corner of "my left turn" and Avenue Friedland. For some reason, I hear Janel's voice echoing somewhere in the dust of 4 years ago, "I can't believe I live here!" For me, it has a new ring than it did back in the Alps. this time its for a longer period of time. I have some ministry and skill goals and dreams for future ministry here. Somewhere between the clutch and the shifting I'll get to that point of knowing where what is...


J has arrived at a conclusion that fits him well. France is his home, he pursues french citizenship, it is where his life is. For me, I'm somewhere between calling the States my home and France my home. I am where I am for now. But there is an uncertainty as to my "permanent" existance here. Maybe that is why I can't make the jump. I guess I'll just be an alien for another few years.

I reconnected with a few people today as I visited the church at Noisy-Champs with Sophie. It was a nice service. I missed meeting the pastor though since he was sick. Another time.


I suceeded in trying my hand at cooking some Lebanese food from memory of watching Jadwa's mom 5 weeks ago. I had to do a variation on the theme and I could have used more onion but I only had a small one. I was kinda excited to cook like that and now I have enough to feed me for the rest of the week. I tried Jonthan's recipe for salad dressing too. I guess that is usually seasoned to taste and one can't go too wrong.


I spent some time looking through history's pages on the persecuation of Protestants in France. Check out this page for a stunning read: Massacre

So this morning I "assisted" a meeting of 5 people with one dream: to launch a cafe ministry from their church. I was collect at 9am and driven to the meeting to meet all these people, some for the first time, others to renew the connection. The church at Pontault has a beautiful multi-purpose room wherein they hope to begin a cafe credible to the general populus. Serving up coffee and other beverages, even a menu, music, art, social action events, lanugage classes- a group to attract unbelievers to a casual occasion to be familiarized with Christian culture. An incredible dream!


I managed to comprehend pretty well what was going on during the meeting, I was even included to the point of offering my questions, comments and opinions, dreams and experience in this sort of ministry. It was thoroughly enjoyable...except when I couldn't think of the vocab to properly describe what I wanted to say or nuance. The rough moment came for me at the end as we prayed together. Pray is a huge obstacle to me in that I feel crazy trying to communicate to God in a language other than the one I'm used to communicating with Him. And not only that, but that there are at least 3 native speakers of this language around me "agreeing" with me in my communication to our Savior. It came to me and I paused. I wanted to cry out in ways that they had and was tempted to do so- in English. Instead, I swallowed my pride and plunged into a grammatical trainwreck, a Picasso picture of my heart in French. I don't think I've ever attempted to climb such a mountain without at least some preparation, reflection and language skills.


When I learned french the first time we started praying simply with the "thank you God for..." over our group meals. I would begin to perspire like a madman everytime it came my turn to pray two phrases over those meals. With time, we studied the subjunctive and began to formulate more complex prayers to our God and I arrived at praying with more ease at the end of 10 months. This time though, I have been in France only a month and feel so totally unprepared to begin praying at the level I had been capable of 4 years ago.


I came home feeling quite good about the meeting and totally embarrassed at my meesily attempt to cry out to God over this project. I feel little, humble, but in another way strengthened for having tried. I know God knows what is in my heart and these people probably know too and could read between the deranged sentence structures what I really meant. This is really what counts and I am in process. It hurts, yes, to be so incapable but I only now see in a mirror dimly, but one day I will see clearly, I only communicate in garble but will one day speak clear truth upon seeing it. For now, let 'Picasso' pray as she might.

Cupboard runner solved!


Just after I broadcast the cupboard runner to the world over my blog, he ran. I jumped up from the liztoppy to see if I could locate his origin. I ran into my room where it sounded like it was near...no. Again... in the VC this time. I stood still between the VC and the salle de bain. Turning slowly I peered into the dark room, not flipping the light on cuz the fan comes on with it. No cupboard thumping. I tried stepping to see if the shaking of the floor would reveal the culprit. Silence for a second later and then it went. I went into the salle de bain squatting down on the tile floor for a better view. I though, maybe one of the shelves was cockeyed and rocking back n forth on its supports but all was secure there... Then I saw it: a trap door under the counter. It was jiggling around in its location. I adjusted it so that it would quit....and it hasn't thumped since!


I now am hearing the same thumping somewhere downstairs now...maybe there is a similar trap door somewhere under me.


I normally don't do my shopping on the Champs d'Elysees but this time Nanae and I were cruising around after class. We ended up in Zara again. This is a crazy designer shop that normal folks might be able to afford and it is always a disaster inside with clothes strewn everywhere, long lines to the cabines d'essayage, but some super cool deals on sheek looking styles. Nanae is a cute Japanese gal who loves to dress sheek. I had been eyeing a dress in there for weeks now. I tried it on once and couldn't bring myself to buy it for lack of occasions to wear it. I tried it again and decided to leave it finally. It was only 25Euros which is incredible, but it was a little too flashy for the general public. It would suit a romantic evening some summer night and I don't have any of those lined up, so the little black linen dress stayed at Zara. I did buy some black slacks. The gal who checks you into the fitting rooms really "fits" you. I poked my head out and asked if she could help me with the long length of the pantelons and she grabbed her pins and put a hem in one leg, wrote me a receipt and sent me to the counter to pay for and leave my pants. I'll return on Wednesday next to pick up my new taylored black slacks. Quel Service!


Nanae and I chose a pizzeria on the Champs to eat dinner in. We took our time, french style and talked about all kinds of things. She told me that she wants to open a center to help women and children in Japan. Women are often taken advantage of and suicide is very high among youth in Japan. Nanae has a degree in Law. My relationship with Jesus came up. She broke into it as we talked about our families. She said she could see that my family was very happy. She thought that was amazing and cool and unique. I thought carefully about how to answer that and just said I thought it was Jesus who made the difference. We talked a bit about that and she then told me that she had attended JHi and HIschool in a Protestant school in Japan. Her father is a "believer" and baptized. She thought it was Methodist. We talked about missions and Catholicism, Christianity. She thought I was a tough girl coming to France to work as a missionary here. She began to put together the pieces of who I am and what I am doing here. As we left she said I had inspired her to read the Bible more when she gets home to Japan. I offered to bring my English Bible and let her borrow it for a bit and told her we could talk about whatever questions she had. She tracked very closely with me during the whole evening. It was a good time. I'm praying that the Lord will draw her in by His truth which she recognizes as timelessly perfect. I'm praying for every opportunity the Lord gives me.

The case of the Cupboard Runner


There is no explanation as of this time for the thumping sounds in the VC, salle de bain, and kitchen which can be heard at nearly any hour of the day or night. The runner persists on slamming cupboard doors as it cruises along. It is especially noticable at night as I lay in the silence of my dark room. I've tried several times to figure out where the thump comes from and where it goes so I can stop it. I've tried to identify the origin of sound when in the VC, and have even entered my unfinished salle de bain to locate the thumper. I haven't caught the culprit and there may very well be no culprit at all, but instead a wind or a shifting of weight somewhere from the depths of the earth.


They say after time you'll not even see all the mass of humans that ride the RER after time. I, to the contrary, am a people watcher. I always have been. Today, as I did my best to not spy on people (I actually make an effort not to watch them), I noted a familiar face as we came to a stop. The door opened and Evrard stepped into my car, greeted me and we talked for one stop or two. How rare it is that I would see him the very next day after sharing the OIKOS dinner with him the wednesday night before.


We ate rachlette for our first OIKOS family dinner. We invited Evrard too. It was a great evening although I was so tired and had homework which didn't get done til the hour before I left for school today. I did most of the listening through the meal and everyone else did the talking. Evrard is a bit harder for me to understand but I see this as a good thing cuz it pushes my comprehension. We were also working in more familiar french, spoken among friends, family and including contractions of phrases and slang.


Today I pondered the difference between learning to read and write a language and learning to speak and understand a language. These are two completely seperate things. Proficency in written is a science. Fluency in current vocal french is an art. I began to contemplate what my french courses would look like if I were to CPD them for Dr. Patty. I would want to teach both with a goal of growing in all 4 areas as well as cultural understanding. I'm working at sorting out the chemistry of grammar while I battle to strengthen my tongue into obedience at distinguishing "u", "ou", "eo", "e" and a medley of other sounds that should all flow together. So I'm working on memorizing these tongue twisters of the french language: Un chasseur sachant chasser chasse sans son chien. (A knowledgeable hunter hunts without his dog.) or Les chaussettes de l'archiduchesse sont seches archi-seches. These two twisters tie the tongue over "sh" and "ss", often within the same word.

Today. This day. I was tired in class. I needed lots of correcting. "seche, not sec." Oh, la...


My lips are dry and peeling and cracking and I think I have a cold sore but I don't know how it is called in French so as to even be able to demand the right product at the pharmacy. I'll have to ask tomorrow of someone who knows.


I have to do the shopping. The fridge is on the empty side, but I'm the type who will let it run down and just eat what I can scrounge up from the cupboards. I wanted to do the shopping tonight when I reentered, but, like I said, I was tired... and even with Rocky- I would only have had a few minutes before Tang Frere closed at 7:30.


I learned that when one speaks of the afternoon hours, one must say 17hours and 30 minutes, representing 5:30, but in familial senses one can say, yah, 5hours and a half. One can never say its 17hours and a half or quarter, or whatever... if you use train time, it must be legit from the teens to the minutes. soit dix-sept heures, trente; soit cinq heures et demi. Why these things amuse me, I don't know. But my grammar prof repremanded me for being "contente" to be learning the subjunctif. Apparently there are much more pleasant things in life to be "contente" over than learning subjunctif...

So far today has been a day "plein de choses." In fact, it was so full that it wisked by rather quickly. It has left me with many questions to ask, much clarification to demand, and more subjunctive to memorize. I'm just going to think "cyberloud" for a few minutes....


Aside from my sore legs and feet from the long walk yesterday, I feel much better and my cough continues to render that ugly flem we all know must come up and get clear of my lungs. I joined a group of area missionaries representing several countries this morning to hear the minutes from last year's meeting and vote to approve things like a budget I had no part in constructing way back in November and doesn't affect my anyway. The field meeting. The field was meeting me to for the first time. I felt like some kind of rare bug under the microscope. In some ways, I am a rare bug. I'm the first of the OIKOS team to show up at their meeting; this means I am representing something totally new to them.


Most of the meeting was spent tossing around several acronyms that I am still trying to sort out. Just what do they all stand for, who is represented by them, what is their function, which layer of this onion am I in? L'alliance, L'association, MEBF, CC, and on they go. I did feel quite a security in the rocking boat though, in that I have a lifevest called OIKOS and Jonathan FINLEY who preside over my being here. Of all that passed verbally around the room in those 2 hours, I understood nothing except that I won't understand and don't necessarily need to at this point.


Like all teams, this one has its bumps along the road and even more since there is so much transition happening in the mission world these days. I saw a lot of dynamics at work, personalities came out, question without clear answers evolved and were left in ambiguity. As I listened to everyone- one french accent here, an irish there, the banter of classic californians, canadians eh...- I started to hear passions and desires in these people's hearts. They want to see believers, churches, more organization, clarification. I also saw my heart and passions fly. Convictions on purpose and methodolgy began to arise in my own heart. I saw where I think differently, alike, where my gifting seems to be leading me.


What does it mean to be a Christian? to be a little Christ? I will love God with all my heart cuz He first loved me and sent His only son to shed His blood in my place and win me a heritage in his family. I will live as a child of the King and revel in His amazing love for me.


What is missions about? Taking this very personal, yet powerful and universal message to the world.


What is the assembling for or what so many refer to as "church"? The communing of the believers together, remembering the wonderful love of Christ and showing it to one another. If I remember right, at the end of Acts 2 the believers were gathering daily, learning from the apostles teaching, sharing what they had (everything in common), praying and people were being added daily to their number (thus growth like a bad weed).


More and more, I am convince that my role as a "missionary" is to live like a 'bad weed', like the kind that if you barely touch they shower their seed everywhere, or the kind that can't be pulled up (I always hated that kind!), or the ones that just seem to live faithfully in the potato patch, flowering so much more often than the pototoes themselves. I want to find the believers that exist around me (the "local" ones) and hang out as much as possible, praying with, sharing and giving among, learning together more about our Savior and worshipping Him in whatever way we can conceive and watch those around us get sucked into the family.


(A parentheses on the french culture: Sometimes evangelicalism is viewed as a sect. In some ways the original church gathering was viewed the same way. They were called the Way and they met privately in homes kept to themselves because of persecution for security reasons. I guess that would sound a little spooky to a skeptic.)


From here I think a little more strategically, "missionary-like", in that I would want to see this worshipping community work like a virus, contagious and passing from community to community leaving its local gang behind revelling in their new found "immunity." (I guess I use this illustration cuz I'm in the process of physically catching all the french bugs and developing an immunity to them.) The words 'church-planting' to me sound a little too forced. It scares me a little to think that I'm supposed to go out and make something grow. Even the idea of running around in a community asking people to come and partake in the local church gathering seems to forced. If Christ is either attractive or repulsive, people will be attracted or repulsed by the truth which is what I desire to live as a child of God. And, yes, I make it my business to take the message to others around me, but I can't make any converts. When something good is happening, others say its good, and those who hear want to partake. That's the smell that should be trailing us believers.


I'm still working all this out in my head and heart. Time will tell me more about myself and strategy and giftings and team. For now, I'll keep chewing on all this. I want to be the most useful tool to the Lord. He's made me a certain way and I need to be of the correct orientation to be most useful to Him. I'm searching for that orientation which includes my heart attitude, first; then, position, physically and metaphysically, correct use of my giftings. Abide in Him and then the fruit will be produced, not of my own effort but of my willingness to draw on his life.

While my family and most American's remain in the US, I live in an anti-war, anti-American culture. Today I descended the metro and stood beside a presse stand, flaunting an oversized frontpage of a magazine, asking, "Pourquoi veut-il aller jusqu'au bout?" The picture was a decorated President Bush. Not only was he wearing his fatigues, and leaning out over his pulpit, with his determined look, but some random french had added their own personal impression of Bush to the plexiglass, complete with indentity tagging, rendering the American President a little reminiscent of Bin Ladin. The magazine also stated a few reasons to go along with its question: religion, Petrol, terrorism. Then it blantantly labelled it all the "new world order."


Last night at the church event, I met a great little gal who asked me how I felt about all this war. I always treat my american heritage and the war subject with care. I did a little BSing in french to say that I really didn't have a clue and avouved that there were so many side issues involved that I couldn't come up with a clear opinion. I think she realized that she has backed me into a corner and apologized for having made it difficult for me. Must walk carefully...


Of course I think Saddam must be removed from power cuz he's a bummer for more people than a hero, but the question is how deep does his power go and who all has his poison infected-- whatever the case it must be ALL removed, like a cancer you can't just take the tumor. You have to take it and do chemo. Then the question remains, who is to do the surgery and when. And that's not the half of it. There is economy involved, terror cells, Israel and Palestine, the injustice to his own people and neighbors, his deception. I saw a week ago how he drained the lush area between the Tigris and Euphrates because those people were rebelling. Now it is a wasteland. I remember learning about the fertile crescent in 4th grade- and this man has dismantled it.


Yeah, take him out- but how?


I just came from taking a long walk through Paris with my friend Severine and her 5 friends. We walked about 10km. It took us all afternoon. We started on the easterly side of the city, south of the Seine and walked west. We walked up into the Luxembourg Gardens and by the Pantheon. I learned that the Senat meets in the gigantic building at the end of Jard Lux. It is guarded pretty heavily these days. A Senat member is appointed for a duree of 9 years whereas a member of the Assembly National is elected by the people to about 4 years. They work much like the House and Senate in the US. The little chapel that I love, just to the left of the Pantheon, called Saint Etienne de la Mort is where famous people like Emile Zola and Alexandre Dumas are buried. We came upon Les Invalides, a golden domed structure. We crossed the Champs and walked under the Tour Eiffel and started a hunt for de la glace. We were so tired and needed some icecream. Unfortunately we settled on some plain old expensive american Ben and Jerry's. It was great weather today. We kept walking all the way to the Bois de Boulogne. There is a little boat rental place and people were out canoeing about in the late afternoon sun. I shot a couple shots. It was amazingly beautiful. The trees where all exoticly french. I'd call that place a wonder to see in the sunset on a romantic evening in the spring.


We RER'd it home. I got the last baguette at Tang Frere's on the way home. :-) ouais...elle a dit, "c'est la derniere!"

Since we had "church" last night, I slept in this morning. I'm headed out at 11am for a promenade in Paris with a friend who I meet in Portland, Severeine. My nasal passage has cleared and I'm feeling a bunch better. The cough still hangs on though.


I'm sitting here in the brightly lit living/dining/kitchen room and I see a pigeon that has flown up to the window and perched here. I guess he must just really like Matt Redman's music. He struts back and forth by the window closest to the computer. His beak keeps hitting the window and whatever nostril he has puffs small circles on the pane. I was even able to reach right up to him on my side of the glass.


Church was held at Claye's mother church building in Lagny. J said he knew about half the people. We served up tortilla's and a really fun time. I met quite a few people who are and "aren't quite" Christians. They played crazy games, one into which I was called to help the ladies cook an omlette. Apparently the lady's out did the men's. The best was watching J and K beat 4 other couples at feeding a yogurt (k to J) blindfolded. The winning technique: Karen actually held her finger against J's chin to keep track of his mouth and then, from up close, shovelled it in. Well, she also has a young one too....


Lagny has a very nice grand piano and I played it for only a little bit. I'm aching to find a piano that I can go to and play at n'importe time. A couple times now Nanae and I haved walked to the FNAC after class and we pass a piano store. They stand there in the window all shiny and so tempting. I wish I had enough to pay for one and have it delivered to my little home. Better yet, just to be able to enter and play one without feeling like an intruder. Or, to be able to get one and put it in a building that is easily accessible and useful for the worship of the saints here in the Marne la Vallee. I know that's what Thierry would want... He's already assigned me some work in the worship domain.


Yesterday, I reminisced as I loaded MP3 after MP3 into my liztoppy. I started to organize it and name what needed names. Thanks to Adrien way back in SEPT I have probably about 7Gb's of music that I can play directly from my computer and never have to touch a CD.

This evening as I walked from the RER to my house I passed a woman of african decent who carried a large box on her head. No hands... I've always wondered how they do that. She walked extremely smooth and had the most impecible posture. She was quite tall, too. I guess things like this make my mind spin. I'm not in Africa, but it has come to me.


Its Friday. I made it. I coughed most of the way through it. I sneezed quite a bit too. My nose is running like a faucet. My throat is tried. My brain is tried. My body is weary. Last weekend I was sick too. I hope I get over the worst of it tonight so I can enjoy the weekend. Saturday night is our church's outreach evening: Mexican food in celebration of a late Valentine's Day prepared by the French. Apparently it will attract 50% unbelievers and we'll total over 100 people.


I wonder what would happen if suddenly English grammar adopted a new conjugation of all verbs in a subjuntive nature? What would we sound like? "I want that you go to post office." "It must that you swim 10 laps." "I wish that you marry you with a Christian." Of course "go", "swim" and "you marry" would have some strange spelling and pronunciation like "gose" and "swime" and "you marriye"... Just trying to wrap my mind around something totally obsurd.

I can't believe it but I just finished the first 4 chapters of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis, in french... Sure, I didn't understand everything to a "T" the way I did when mom sat next to me all those years ago so faithfully plodding through each chapter, but hey, I was reading and enjoying it! Yah...go ahead and laugh cuz for sure you can see me "all curled up on my uncomfortable brown couch wrapped in a butterfly blanket moving my lips to foreign angles provoked by such a beautiful language..." Et bien, c'est super, non?! I think I'll try to make a habit of reading more in French- let's see if I can conquer this language. Au lit!

Or maybe it will conquer me?... Like the White Witch does Edmund.... SUCKED IN!

Its been a good day so far. Yesterday was good. I'm feeling a little more at ease here. The bummer of the day so far is that I woke up with my cough and cold in full swing. ...vitamins, vitamins, zinc, blah!.... and my bread turned into "pain perdu"... I need to ask about that recipe.

So I survived 2 days of school so far. It takes me one hour to get porte to porte and my profs are not too interesting or strange. My classmates are a variety of people from everywhere. Yesterday I discovered that even answers to profs questions have to be carefully thought through. A whole new meaning to the concept of being "salt" springs to life. I want my words to be pure and clean and my thoughts to be conveyed in good, knowledgeable French. But one must be careful. My profs are french educated masters of language and teach for that matter. One speaks Japanese fluently and the other has a handle on Cantonese- said to be one of thee most difficult languages out there. Nani and I were assigned to debate the computer- did it liberate us or not? So we dove in and we talked through the pros and then the cons and we hit on the aspect of pirating and just brushed the idea of pornography. The prof caught it and said, "Now, thats moral, not whether or not the machine herself causes liberation." He admitted though that the internet itself could suck one in and not allow actual freedom. Even my debate skills which are seemingly few, come up against a brick wall with the French. They are so well thought out. Heck, even 5th graders are studying Camus. I hardly know who that is...


So my little daily routine is beginning to form: wake up at 8:30ish (alarm #1 is at 8), turn on the liztoppy and start some music, eat some breakfast, email, shower, get ready, review studies, blog, leave at 12:25ish for school, ride RER and walk to school, grammar with Alexandre from 1:30-3:30ish, conversation with Jean-Baptiste from 3:35ish-5:30ish (the french are quarkochronic so we're never really on time), chat with classmates as we walk to metro, get on and return home. Maybe shop if need be. Eat dinner, email, hang-time with God, bed. Thats kinda what the week looks like. Now the weekend? couldn't tell ya.


Yesterday I bought Rocky. I don't have a car here so Rocky is almost a must. I tried to live for a bit without him but when I saw a young arab boy 'faire les courses' with one similar to Rocky, I realized how much simpler that race through Tang Frere would be. I could even take Rocky to Continent (where I bought him) or to Auchan which is another couple stops down the RER and bring water home, milk in those crazy boxes, soupe too! I found that carrying heavy things in plastic bags will really kill my hands and so I dropped the cash on a deeply tan, handsome, but older styling fellow, who constantly sports black and blue (in plaid of course cuz the French love that plaid). He has two wheels and follows smoothly. Rocky is my caddy and I love him already.

Its begun! School. I'm back in it. I think I really like language school though. For some reason I get a terriffic kick out of listening to profs go on about grammer. I discovered that I am the only American among my two classes. There are two Japanese gals and two Polish, a spanish gal who is absolutely gorgeous with her dark eyebrows, a scot, and a few others that I didn't get to identify.

Grammer prof is Alexandre. He immediately put me under the microscope as an american and then poked a little at my being Protestant. He asked, So, since you went to Bible College (cuz he squeezed that much from me) you're Protestant? Oui. And you still are? Oui. Funny, I didn't even wince. Everyone looked at me carefully. I normally turn red when a moment like that passes but I didn't as far as I could feel. I've begun praying for this new opportunity for God to strengthen me and use me to show His glory as the one and only true God, even if they're not all French in the room. He said "all nations," so there I am in a room with a wide variety of people.

The second 2 hours of my 4 hour school day is spent in the same classroom with Jean-Baptiste. He is a terribly skinny tall frenchman who can double cross his legs like I used to do until I got so scared of varicos vains forming around my knees. He is our conversation prof. He is a bit more difficult to understand than Alex but in reality, everyone is at this point. He schedule is very loose and flexible. We designed a dialogue for a comic strip about a man entering a hotel lobby and a woman steeling his briefcase. My guess is that he was Clouseau from the Pink Panther, dressed like him and everything, who dumbly left his brief case at the counter instead of taking it with him into the telephone cabin.

It takes me one hour to get from my door in Lognes to the Institute door in downtown Paris. After about 45min on the RER I pop my head up at the Arc de Triomphe and weave my way NE up Ave Hoche, take a right on "handsome Jean" street, then a left on "bertie" street. Its really quite simple, you know. The Champs d'Elysees is only 2 main streets over but if you can find the Arc, then you'll be in good stead.

Yesterday after class, Nani (Japanese gal) and I headed from class to the FNAC to buy our books. She is a law student from Japan who lived in Hawaii for a few years too. She is in Paris for another month with her french boyfriend. Pray that I'll have more opportunity to tell her the Good News. She asked about my being a Christian as we walked to the FNAC.

My body is starting to act normal again, finally! Although I seem to have a strange cough taking its place. Health.... ahh!

Alot of things come in boxes in France: milk, juice, soup... I just opened my first box of soupe here in France since 4 years. It is a mixture of southern veggies and spices and a dash of olive oil. I spent today home from church even though I was up and showered in plenty of time to attend. I felt horrible: mal au ventre. My stomach has been killing me for the past couple days and I didn't want to battle it during a church service and Karen recommended I rest before school starts and all the stress with the "new" begins tomorrow.


So today I watched the TV and slept on the futon downstairs in the Finley apt. I wanted to be at church but needed the rest and it was still work watching TV. I ate dry Special K and layed there until Karen returned in the early afternoon.


All that to say that this soupe in a box sure tastes good and I can't wait to share it with my friends who think soup comes in a can labelled Campbell's with little morsels of stuff floating around in it.

Train face: the face everyone wears on the metro and trains here in France. It is comprised of closed lips and dull eyes which sneak from window to window, reflection to reflection, blank stare to no where. Everyone wears it and if you don't you stick out. The only time its ok to wipe it off is if your cell rings or if you are in company of a friend or group of friends. Only then can your eyes light up or your lips crack even a smile. Even the people who religiously read books and magazines where train face. They crowd the RELAY vendor in the big stations to buy Vogue, Marie Claire, and other popular magazines, not to mention all the papers available.



Today I sucessfully bought my first "carte orange" for 5 zones and good for one month. I asked for it in the heart of the city since I was there saying goodbye to my friends. I put it on the carte banciare and grabbed my metro then RER. I was sopping wet from the rain in Paris. The rain comes down in large crocodile sized raindrops that thoroughly soak upon landing. My jeans were wet midway up my calf and my shoes were soaked by the time I arrived chez moi. I put on tea, lit a candle and cut out a little picture to apply to my carte orange and made it valid with my nom, prenom and address and signature. I even found a tiny metro map that I cut out and put in the plastic sleeve of my carte orange. I'm ready for Monday!



Life will begin to deroule on monday with the commencement of my classes. I'll begin speaking more and more franglais which will evolve into purer french. Already I found myself mixing french words into the sentences I was tossing at my american friends (sorry guys).



I'm praying to the Great Healer to fix my stomach from its little problems. Can't explain it....