tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88992017107689775272024-02-06T20:53:53.084-08:00Lessons Among the AlpsTeaching and Serving at the Black Forest Academy in Kandern, GermanyAhnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-26136910282563284082014-08-17T09:01:00.000-07:002014-08-17T09:08:52.537-07:00Among the Alps??<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A good friend of mine
recently pointed out that the title for my newsletters (and, consequently, the
title of my blog) is a bit of a misnomer. Though at first I didn't want to
admit it, he was entirely correct. I do not technically live or teach in the
middle of the Alps. I live in the Black Forest, which is lovely trees, green
hills, and endless hiking trails…but regretfully, no Alpine peaks. As someone
who likes to write, I suppose I just got caught up in the alliterative allure
of a title such as “Among the Alps.” It was so much better than
“Frolicking in the Forest,” “Teaching in the Timber” or anything else that was
coming to mind. To be fair, my life is not entirely devoid of this famous
mountain range. I can technically see the Alps from Kandern. I just have to
climb to the top of Sausenburg Castle or head up the mountain for dinner (5
Euro Schnitzel!) at Alpenblick. When the weather is clear, the snow capped
peaks are just visible on the horizon. For an American who for many years had
always dreamed of living even remotely close to such a magnificent mountain
range, I think we’ll count “being-able-to-see-a-peak-on-a-clear-day” as being
in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">among</i> category. So, in the
future, please know that I do indeed know the difference between the Alps and
the Black Forest. I have just decided to translate “among” to mean “within a
100 mile radius of.” But thanks again to my friend for helping me to clarify my
geography!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0adOjpZ_OipG6XdYcvZOI2w2XBOca3tX-TsOp5JYtaQNG2EOlttyMVAaGJnp7G6Yq7RwYQNYFKJ6olWaPYe5mWbCA_nrDj2mN4Cmn35susKHU__MHAS-bLNqUN1V_MeBwHwUzJMetUyT/s1600/IMGP1029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0adOjpZ_OipG6XdYcvZOI2w2XBOca3tX-TsOp5JYtaQNG2EOlttyMVAaGJnp7G6Yq7RwYQNYFKJ6olWaPYe5mWbCA_nrDj2mN4Cmn35susKHU__MHAS-bLNqUN1V_MeBwHwUzJMetUyT/s1600/IMGP1029.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can just catch a glimpse of the Alps on the horizon</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As for recent events in Kandern, the
hustle of school is almost upon us. Today is our last official day of break and
tomorrow we start with All Staff Conference. I am so excited to meet all the
new teachers, RAs, and other new staff members. There will be lots to meet
because this year at BFA there are about 50 new faculty members! As is BFA
tradition, we will begin the week with new staff testimonies. This is where all
the newbies get to share the awesome story of how God has brought them to
Germany to serve at BFA. From past experience, I am looking forward to these
testimonies as being a time of encouragement and celebration for the year
ahead. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As for myself, I am once again starting
to get the start-of-school jitters. I was hoping that those would go away since
it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i> my second year teaching and
all. But, the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, the crazy dreams that I’m
late for the first day of school, and the waking up in the middle of the night
and writing down a sudden idea for a lesson plan (which always ends up making
no sense in the morning) hasn’t seemed to have diminished at all from last
year. The students arrive on<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>August 31st
and school begins September 2nd. More updates to come!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRFUXOHzmgD5SO322qBdJOQt8vIPSVIucXZ9gL2N2DgtTNE_L0kcVpuCtF_vOvhyphenhyphenuvX7VQh0nS405g4nw8mqVvraqQ2gxk9wwQ1TCMkXBF5uB8z4sxc-q7KLeOLOtTt5XPpPc7Gh0cJarU/s1600/IMGP1463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRFUXOHzmgD5SO322qBdJOQt8vIPSVIucXZ9gL2N2DgtTNE_L0kcVpuCtF_vOvhyphenhyphenuvX7VQh0nS405g4nw8mqVvraqQ2gxk9wwQ1TCMkXBF5uB8z4sxc-q7KLeOLOtTt5XPpPc7Gh0cJarU/s1600/IMGP1463.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying summertime on a hike with friends :)</td></tr>
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</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-33975729428921519722014-07-28T08:59:00.000-07:002014-07-28T08:59:24.673-07:00Wait a minute…where’s our bus?<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On Saturday morning, I waved good-bye to my parents and
watched as they began their journey back to the United States. I feel so
incredibly blessed that they were able to come for a visit. Even the little
things like sharing a meal together, tasting new ice cream flavors at the local
Eiscafé, helping Mom learn new German words, climbing mountains with Dad, or
showing my parents around the campus at BFA have left so many special memories of our
time together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While my parents and I had an overall fantastic time of
traveling together, we also had a few misadventures. One of our craziest
adventures occurred during our trip to Munich. Wanting to save money, I
searched around online and found an awesome deal for bus tickets for only 14
Euros a person. I had actually traveled on this same bus back in October
when some of my roommates and I visited Munich for Oktoberfest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Excited about the great deal, we packed our bags and boarded
the train to Freiburg where we would then catch our bus to Munich. Besides the noise
from a group of rowdy teenage boys who decided to choose their seats directly
behind us, the bus ride was pretty comfortable. We had a table in between four
seats and were able to look out the bus window and enjoy the German scenery. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We were nearing the midway point of our journey, a little
town called Friedrichshafen nestled near the Bodensee. In October, we had had time to get out at the bus station</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">,
stretch our legs, grab a bite to eat, and use the restroom. I, being rather
drowsy from watching a World Cup game the night before, was starting to doze off.
A long stream of German announcements went completely unnoticed by my mother
and I (the only two partial German speakers in our family) and my dad, awake
but not comprehending, assumed that Mom or I had gotten the gist of whatever
the bus driver was trying to communicate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I woke up as the bus was pulling into the station at Friedrichshafen.
Remembering the trip from October, I explained to my family that we would have
about 15 minutes to use the restroom or get a snack. Leaving most of our
belongings behind, the three of us exited the bus to take a quick break.
Although it was somewhat heavy to carry, I decided that just to be safe, I
should take my backpack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We were only gone for about seven minutes. The three of us
had walked around to the back of the bus station to find the restroom. Well, as
we soon discovered, seven minutes was all it took to get left behind in Friedrichshafen.
At first, we didn’t believe it. The bus was probably just refueling somewhere.
I tried desperately to reassure my mother (and myself), “he’ll be back, don’t
worry, the bus just went to get gas or something.” After about 15 minutes, I wasn’t so sure…and
after 25 minutes, I knew we must have been left behind. Being left would have been
bad enough, but to add to our stress was the fact that our three suitcases, my
dad’s laptop, my dad’s camera, our lunch box, and my mom’s favorite hat were on
their way to Munich without us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thankfully, we had my backpack—a bag which contained my
wallet, passport, laptop, German cell phone, and the bus tickets. Seeking help
in the lobby of a local hotel, we explained our situation and showed them the
phone number of the bus station (which just happened to be printed on the
tickets). Since my German is still pretty mediocre, the receptionist kindly
offered to call the bus company for us. After a lengthy German conversation, we
were told that they were working on the situation and that they would call back
on my cell phone when they had more information. So there we were, trapped in a
rainy German town with no bus, no luggage, and anxiously awaiting a phone call
(which as far as I knew might be entirely in German). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I nearly jumped from my seat when my cell phone started to
ring. “Hallo?” I spoke somewhat hesitantly. Much to my relief, the speaker
answered in English. He explained that there was another bus coming in two
hours and that he would email me complimentary tickets to ride that bus to
Munich. “Wonderful!” I responded, “And what about our luggage?” The man
explained that regretfully, he was unable to get into contact with the bus
driver, but he would figure out a way for us to retrieve our belongings. I then
went through the lengthy process of describing all the luggage in great detail,
even including the brands, colors, and sizes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After a desperate search for internet and the quick download
of the new bus tickets, we were ready to board the second bus. Much to our relief,
it arrived right at the scheduled time. A little after 6pm, we pulled into the bus
station in Munich. Before we even had time to worry about our luggage, a man
with a big red beard came up to greet us. Waiting in a neat stack behind him were our
three suitcases, my dad’s laptop bag, our lunchbox, and even my mom’s favorite
hat. “Your luggage?” he asked with a smile. We thanked him profusely and smiled with relief to see all our
belongs waiting there for us. Even when we thought we would be stranded in Friedrichshafen,
God was faithful not only to get us safely to Munich, but to protect our luggage as well. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As we walked away, with smiles on our faces and our luggage
in tow, I couldn’t help but think how rare it must be to find that your lost
luggage has actually been waiting for you.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7dtxgCZ6UftslDtAZHUqrxa6VbeOXImqql8a05WotJ6mf8yqeMYAoRS30CUjr1W_x5zbzapqLSEWKrtySxSknLil8PG-58Ohco4gSvPV77Erm2YWW7PVFx4aA_rmOO5NuXdxKNsu8ZqD/s1600/DSCN3174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7dtxgCZ6UftslDtAZHUqrxa6VbeOXImqql8a05WotJ6mf8yqeMYAoRS30CUjr1W_x5zbzapqLSEWKrtySxSknLil8PG-58Ohco4gSvPV77Erm2YWW7PVFx4aA_rmOO5NuXdxKNsu8ZqD/s1600/DSCN3174.JPG" height="320" width="195" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Dad in Munich</td></tr>
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Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-80955919257126888682014-06-27T14:10:00.000-07:002014-06-27T14:10:15.085-07:00Summertime
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I realize that I have disappeared from the world of blogging
for quite some time. If any of you are familiar with the rush of activities,
grading, and events required of a high school teacher at the end of the school
year, then you know where I’ve been. To top it off, I also had to move to my
new apartment the same weekend as graduation. So, yes, the word “busy” just
doesn’t seem to encompass how I have been feeling lately. More like trapped
beneath a cascade of enormous responsibility or something along those lines.
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Despite the enormity of my recent schedule, I have also
experienced a season of great blessing. I don’t mean to sound cliché or cutesy.
I truly have been overwhelmed with how much I love these students, this school,
and this community. With coaching track, helping my freshmen navigate their way
through writing their first full-scale research paper, reading my creative writers’ “mini-novels,”
prepping for graduation, and saying good-bye to students and staff, I have felt
God’s presence more at work here than ever. BFA is truly a special place that
has already left it’s mark on my heart. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicIqkW8E0mSfxnb6cPsUPpsNnZT-SmWeuTe8ZUaIMtrBpCb7hrSbyWOEhmjg6fNykCFfW-qRXfJvCGgUIWBFF1J9r4hmc5KjdLsEc726DOGVegqc2RboloZL9h3kFQBbtZuVqal-t_gr7c/s1600/IMGP1345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicIqkW8E0mSfxnb6cPsUPpsNnZT-SmWeuTe8ZUaIMtrBpCb7hrSbyWOEhmjg6fNykCFfW-qRXfJvCGgUIWBFF1J9r4hmc5KjdLsEc726DOGVegqc2RboloZL9h3kFQBbtZuVqal-t_gr7c/s1600/IMGP1345.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sprint Medley Relay takes 5th at European Championships</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I feel compelled to write a few lines about how fast the
year flew by…about how it seems like August was just yesterday and I was a
scared, nervous little first-year teacher waiting anxiously for the first day
of school. It’s true, the year has escaped with lightning speed. The faces that
were exactly that—just faces—at the beginning of the year have become real
people who I now know and love. The students who were just names on a roster
are now individuals who, even if they don’t realize it, have influenced my life
in so many ways. I know... I’m a teacher, I’ll have lots of classes and lots of
students. But what teacher ever forgets her first year of classes? I know I won’t. Thanks
guys for making it a year to remember. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiU6zz0BjczfRCMsvB5pzQ6j8yLMOOsFJDWD0hEb_o8d8XjCG3N13CfqhN4nEiYjbLQA5taiMrsaZfOtaghO22QgVjZ5DIhkCU4g8xiYNQwq6EXgK8WLSz0Z6O_3Nlf1GSK8wcrsolAOWF/s1600/IMGP1356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiU6zz0BjczfRCMsvB5pzQ6j8yLMOOsFJDWD0hEb_o8d8XjCG3N13CfqhN4nEiYjbLQA5taiMrsaZfOtaghO22QgVjZ5DIhkCU4g8xiYNQwq6EXgK8WLSz0Z6O_3Nlf1GSK8wcrsolAOWF/s1600/IMGP1356.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My Creative Writers </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, now that it is summertime in Kandern, what am I up to?
With the mounting of my last WVU cross-country poster, I am at last fully
settled into my new apartment. It is a small one-bedroom place attached to the
home of an older German couple. It’s cute… some of the furniture and especially
the curtains and the wallpaper is rather antique-looking, but I don’t mind so
much. There’s a lovely backyard, a kitchen with an oven that works, and the best
part…the BFA cross-country course is literally a one-minute walk outside my
front door! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkjOY7K41QQsROWqVabrAc4Yt42hppaNM1WguS4QiX4Fz_NJNdptzBtvGyJTFI-Pr3uvrvdOHmIogNOgnIKp-EVJ4Ub7HIhptsR-8dL8hgJnCPnlJyUPg5sUSNH5dV-nnYpWGJHcv51H4/s1600/IMGP1388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkjOY7K41QQsROWqVabrAc4Yt42hppaNM1WguS4QiX4Fz_NJNdptzBtvGyJTFI-Pr3uvrvdOHmIogNOgnIKp-EVJ4Ub7HIhptsR-8dL8hgJnCPnlJyUPg5sUSNH5dV-nnYpWGJHcv51H4/s1600/IMGP1388.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Outside my new apartment</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BS3kSAgsURpZ4fEIbOXZ-_5nNBQ7US08EXxpEIBoxDS7MrFkM_BNcdjaqYhup6X34HlfWLowm90GmFZxefhoxoj5a4S_Yk9Qs5uxjBy2u2ltqGmjzqEfwD-aQE8-Z3NXjUFkTRgTU0Gz/s1600/IMGP1455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BS3kSAgsURpZ4fEIbOXZ-_5nNBQ7US08EXxpEIBoxDS7MrFkM_BNcdjaqYhup6X34HlfWLowm90GmFZxefhoxoj5a4S_Yk9Qs5uxjBy2u2ltqGmjzqEfwD-aQE8-Z3NXjUFkTRgTU0Gz/s1600/IMGP1455.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Summer means time to cook! :)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Vu4qNxckf7csZWVMsMaGPcn8koVNhPJaX7Vnt9y_mWt2hJLOYFI_w-Q5PqFCBTwy1QVr1na8OzW4nsdGyRJRVxupN9ruQVf5Td9Koq_YVVZCXZbNwz7dZ9_f4yfwv3Ifs6mNMkwanBNj/s1600/IMGP1447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Vu4qNxckf7csZWVMsMaGPcn8koVNhPJaX7Vnt9y_mWt2hJLOYFI_w-Q5PqFCBTwy1QVr1na8OzW4nsdGyRJRVxupN9ruQVf5Td9Koq_YVVZCXZbNwz7dZ9_f4yfwv3Ifs6mNMkwanBNj/s1600/IMGP1447.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">View from my kitchen window </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Next week is work week for me at BFA—painting the school
hallways and watering the flower beds is what I have heard is on the agenda so
far. And…the best news, after work week my parents are coming to Germany! I am
so excited to get to see them! I have been away from home for almost 11 months
now and I am more than ready for a nice long visit with my parents. I hope that
they have been training well because I have lots of hiking trails planned for us
to explore. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQlAE-3v8bzxl7LdFBOoy6FVxxZlD2VXCEjzZzignWPSzjAK8ntrgC1bA01PT8xJOlyVgVi69s6-zvdHhv2nWMnsrWEbqkJm5ry9yZYNBh7R8VI0xhlZityB6S_0ag1EAIxDkKtXUxpEl_/s1600/IMGP1409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQlAE-3v8bzxl7LdFBOoy6FVxxZlD2VXCEjzZzignWPSzjAK8ntrgC1bA01PT8xJOlyVgVi69s6-zvdHhv2nWMnsrWEbqkJm5ry9yZYNBh7R8VI0xhlZityB6S_0ag1EAIxDkKtXUxpEl_/s1600/IMGP1409.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Kandern trails</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMItNfWjRQX5s4HBr_zLraohEnjPlZm5r0R29WrIxzZQKBpKUHPiX1oj1_un5j3hGoEfgfVpPE7i9zPKIHqdirE7ZkFOrh-hxzj0wDOL9JF4XPwjiU86aGpyrMjVOu_Cj5b8qiAMTPR_7z/s1600/mnd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMItNfWjRQX5s4HBr_zLraohEnjPlZm5r0R29WrIxzZQKBpKUHPiX1oj1_un5j3hGoEfgfVpPE7i9zPKIHqdirE7ZkFOrh-hxzj0wDOL9JF4XPwjiU86aGpyrMjVOu_Cj5b8qiAMTPR_7z/s1600/mnd.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Dad are on their way soon :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFnGP0R7wbzbs4uzgCX0EsD2z4RjuQFEpeMxPPwiVDK_vd9aUhbvdZ5rkPYaNgxkON7T6izFDWbhnK91cJEdAeTRu9NIQYRSysbZIeCsoaP9wxUhV8XWuxIML7BFWj11ju7mrITRUGwhGL/s1600/IMGP1394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFnGP0R7wbzbs4uzgCX0EsD2z4RjuQFEpeMxPPwiVDK_vd9aUhbvdZ5rkPYaNgxkON7T6izFDWbhnK91cJEdAeTRu9NIQYRSysbZIeCsoaP9wxUhV8XWuxIML7BFWj11ju7mrITRUGwhGL/s1600/IMGP1394.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-15842597481912779602014-04-15T08:18:00.000-07:002014-04-15T08:18:13.862-07:00Catchy Pick-up Lines & Bus Riding Adventures
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Though the history, culture, architecture, and art of Turkey
are fantastic and well worth exploring, our time in Antayla and Istanbul was
not without its adventures and in some cases, misadventures. As I soon
discovered, exploring the city streets as a group of young, single American
females is not always the best option. With features such as blonde hair, blue
eyes, or in my case, just a fair complexion, you are bound to draw a lot of
public attention. In fact, I don’t think that I have felt any more <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">noticed </i>in my life. Regretfully, much of
this attention came from the younger, and shall we say “overly-friendly,” male
population. Rather than worry too much about this unwanted attention, we
decided to make a game out of keeping a list of the most creative pick-up
lines. Here are a few of my favorites:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">1. “Hello angels…I will be your Charlie.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">2. “You dropped something.” (I look behind me to see what I
may have dropped.) The Turkish man places his hand across his chest and says
with exaggerated conviction: “My heart.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">3. The four of us were walking in a group shopping at the
Spice Bazaar. As we walk by one of the booths we hear, “Hello Spice Girls!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">4. While shopping at the Grand Bazaar: “Hello ladies! Come
to shop here. It’s almost free!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">5. “Why are you ignoring me? Do you not speak English? Don’t
worry, I can give you English lessons!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Though it was annoying, I have to admit that a few of these
guys do get a few points for creativity. :) </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5EVcPfbKv3JFGOJ-_KR8gd2yJfvhWFYoEPq7Nayb947kmo7c-V5LIe_1wsY4Sq-UB6arh9-ML0DPBRpfNTi8zy7WfLDnpmA4rbAIodQ-UKGD4QqrX5HGFbzy6HbAnRE0jUFU2JjjGwcG/s1600/IMGP1249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5EVcPfbKv3JFGOJ-_KR8gd2yJfvhWFYoEPq7Nayb947kmo7c-V5LIe_1wsY4Sq-UB6arh9-ML0DPBRpfNTi8zy7WfLDnpmA4rbAIodQ-UKGD4QqrX5HGFbzy6HbAnRE0jUFU2JjjGwcG/s1600/IMGP1249.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turkish spices at the Grand Bazaar</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYoYgC3ndYBsR-AufBa_a2pYUJ06iI1vqr94-p4apl_PL-2f_JR5iA-cTGK47Lh_zUmcYAESSOi-12RTeGCD8U55rdyhLZE9qN2gW93ZwJAVKe4VkkMTKyEeki5dkwv5UKMcfuP8DSINz/s1600/IMGP1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYoYgC3ndYBsR-AufBa_a2pYUJ06iI1vqr94-p4apl_PL-2f_JR5iA-cTGK47Lh_zUmcYAESSOi-12RTeGCD8U55rdyhLZE9qN2gW93ZwJAVKe4VkkMTKyEeki5dkwv5UKMcfuP8DSINz/s1600/IMGP1205.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Even amidst the unwanted friendliness of some of the men, I
did notice many redeeming aspects of the Turkish culture. In general, people
are extremely helpful and kind-hearted. During one of our crowded rides on the bus,
I noticed a mother board the bus with her young son. Although this woman searched
everywhere for her bus pass, she wasn’t able to find it. A worried expression
crossed her face as she wondered what she and her son were going to do next. Almost
instantly, a kind Turkish woman sitting in the front row took out her own pass
and handed it to the mother in need. Though the mother tried to repay the
woman, holding out a small handful of Turkish lira, the woman shook her head
and insisted that she needed no payment. It was wonderful to see the generous
heart of this woman. Not long after this incident, a little old Turkish grandmother
boarded the bus. Before I continue with this story, I need to point out the
fact that the seats on the bus are prime real estate. With the crazy traffic,
bustling crowds, and long commutes, everyone is hoping to secure a seat for
themselves. Well, this little grandmother enters the bus and believe it or not,
the same woman who paid the bus fare for the mother and the son, gets up from
her seat so that the grandmother can sit down. Again, I was so encouraged to see
such a genuine display of thoughtfulness and generosity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Besides generous people on the bus, there were also many
helpful people on the streets. Whenever we stopped to ask for directions people
would not only help us, but would often go above and beyond the expected
response. When people realized that we weren’t understanding their Turkish
directions, they would often go out of their way to lead us to our desired
destination. We even had a family offer to drive us to where we wanted to go.
(At least that’s what we think they were offering…our entire conversation was
composed of Johanna and I speaking English, the Turkish family speaking
Turkish, and both of us doing a lot of pantomime.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On one of our more disconcerting adventures, Johanna and I
were coming home to the Asian side after a lovely day of exploring the European
half of the city. We were tired, it was getting late, and the bus monitor that
tells the passengers which stop is coming up next was broken. As you have
probably predicted by this point, we missed our stop. The trouble was that we
didn’t miss it by one or two minutes…we missed it by about 20 minutes. When we
finally realized our error and exited the bus, we were in what seemed to be the
middle of nowhere in a completely unfamiliar part of the city. And it was dark.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Trying not to panic, we began to come up with a strategy of how we were going
to make it safely home. Our first plan was to ask some workers in a nearby ice
cream shop. As we soon discovered, the number of English speakers begins to
dwindle the further you travel into the Asian side of the city. Completely
unable to understand our English, we showed the shop owner the only thing we
had to help us at this point, a small slip of paper with the abbreviation for
our desired bus stop. He looked at it with a somewhat puzzled and confused expression
and then motioned for us to follow him outside. Pointing with his hand he
indicated that we should continue straight down the road and then, at some
point which was thoroughly described in Turkish, turn left. We thanked him and
continued down the road another two blocks. Since it was dark and none of the
landscape was looking even remotely familiar, we soon decided that walking was
not the best option. We needed to somehow get back onto the bus in the opposite
direction and find our stop in reverse. The trouble is that the bus numbers
often change when traveling in the opposite direction meaning that we had no
clue which bus to get on. The last thing that we wanted to do was ride a random
bus into an even more random and remote part of the city. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Since I had my German “pay-as-you-go” phone, I decided that
this constituted a good enough reason to pay the ridiculous rate of 3 Euros a
minute and call my friend who we were staying with to get directions back to
her apartment. She answered the phone and I explained the situation as quickly as
possible. We had just reached the point in the conversation when I was telling
her what bus stop we were near when my phone went dead. I was out of minutes! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With that plan no longer being an option, Johanna and I
decided to go with Plan C. We would simply hail every bus, show the bus driver
the abbreviated name of our desired stop, and hope that he could tell us the
bus number that we needed to take. The downside of this plan is that the bus
drivers really hate to stop or talk even a second longer than is necessary. The
other downside is that all the drivers we met that night didn’t speak any
English. After a few failed attempts, we finally found a bus that apparently
was going in the right direction. A young man at the front of the bus smiled
nicely and said that he knew which stop was nearby and that he could lead us
there when we arrived. Seeing no better options, Johanna and I boarded the bus
to await our stop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was sitting in the middle section of the bus beside a
young woman and Johanna was standing to my left by the window. As we rode along,
I couldn’t help but notice that the man who was planning to lead us to our stop
kept looking back and smiling. It may have been totally innocent, but it was
starting to creep me out a little bit. I began to fiddle with the paper that
had the abbreviated name of the bus stop written on it. Finally, the woman
beside me turned towards me and said quietly in English, “Where are you trying
to go?” I showed her the paper and she took it and puzzled over it for a while.
At last, she handed it back and told me that we needed to get off at bus stop
44. (The monitor was working in this bus, so I was able to see the numbers listed
beside the very confusing Turkish names.) I thanked her, beginning to feel a
little better that I didn’t have to put all of my trust in the young man
sitting up front. At least now I had a second opinion as to which stop was
going to be the closest to our destination. After another minute of driving,
the women turned to me again. “Do not go with him,” she said in a hushed voice,
“he is a silly boy.” I thanked her, realizing now for the first time the
seriousness of the situation. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t want to be
following any “silly boys” through the streets of Istanbul. The woman exited
the bus and I motioned for Johanna to come and sit beside me. I explained the
situation and we decided that as soon as our stop came, we would exit the bus,
not even look for the boy, and head straight towards a heavily populated area. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I began to get more and more nervous as we drew closer to
the intended stop. Most of the streets had been rather dark and I wasn’t
particularly keen on exiting into any dark alleys with our new “friend” from
the front of the bus. I kept praying that God would protect us and give us
wisdom as to what to do next. The bus rounded the corner and much to my and
Johanna’s delight we saw the bright lights of a mall that we recognized. In
fact, this mall was only about two blocks from the apartment where we were
staying! We quickly got off the bus and immediately started power-walking towards
the mall. We heard the voice of the boy calling after us, but I kept walking
and responded over my shoulder, “Thank you, but we don’t need any help. We know
where we are.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Although the extra precaution probably wasn’t necessary,
Johanna and I took a very round-about, well-lighted way to get home. We just
wanted to be absolutely certain that the bus boy wasn’t following us. At the
bus stop outside our apartment, we saw our hostess and her roommate getting
ready to board a bus to go look for us. We flagged them down and greeted them
with much joy and enthusiasm. After our adventure, it was so wonderful to see
familiar faces and greet each other in English. We walked home together, happy
and relived to be safe with our friends.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-67605801855398763052014-04-14T14:07:00.000-07:002014-04-14T14:07:19.192-07:00Gateway to the East
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This spring break, I embarked on an adventure much different
from any of my past European travels. This was the first time that I have ever
found myself in what might be categorized as an Eastern culture. It’s true that
Istanbul, Turkey is often considered to be a city on the border—it’s not entirely
eastern, nor is it entirely western. Just as the physical location of the city
is split between two continents, so does the culture seem to be split between differing
world views. The city is divided by a strait that connects the Black Sea with
the Sea of Marmara called the Bosporus. It is this body of water that serves as
the boundary between the continents of Europe and Asia. It is pretty amazing to
think that over the course of the weekend, I traveled back and forth from
Europe to Asia a total of six different times!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The beauty of Istanbul</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My favorite method of transportation to span the continents
would have to be the ferry. For the mere price of 1.90TL (less than a dollar),
you can enjoy a beautiful “cruise” across the Bosporus where you can experience
the lovely blue-green hue of the ocean, the sunlight glinting off the domed
roofs of the mosques, and if you’re really lucky, a dolphin swimming along
beside the ferry. While I wasn’t lucky enough to see any dolphins, I did see a
lot of jelly fish along the way!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ferry on the Bosphorus</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Another popular method of transportation is the
Marmaray. This metro-like tunnel was actually built underground beneath the
Bosporus. Speedy and efficient, the Marmaray is an excellent method of
transportation as long as you don’t think too much about the fact that there
are thousands of gallons of water, fish, boats, and everything else imaginable
floating happily along above your head. </span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before I get carried away and go into too many details about
Istanbul, I want to start at the beginning of my adventure, which is actually the
city of Antalya. Due to its lovely beaches, this port in southern Turkey makes
a very popular tourist destination. It also makes a beautiful destination for
an education conference with other teachers from around the world, which is why
it was chosen as the venue for our 2014 global conference. The conference was
an excellent opportunity for learning and fellowship, and not a bad place to
take a little rest on the beach after a very, very busy third quarter of
teaching at BFA. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Boats in downtown Antalya Harbor</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">One of the afternoon outings during the free
time at the conference was the chance to take a cruise on the Manavgat River,
explore the ancient Roman ruins of Perge, and dip our feet in the Mediterranean
Sea. We also had the chance to taste some delicious Turkish-style ice cream,
which is similar to American-style, except for the fact that it is much
stickier, making it the perfect consistency to tease unsuspecting American
girls by flipping it upside down right before handing it to the next customer. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jessica waiting for
her ice cream</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While Antalya was lovely, we didn’t get to truly experience
Turkish culture until we left the resort and flew over to Istanbul. My
housemate Johanna and I were able to stay with a friend who teaches at an
international school located in the city. It was such a blessing to have a
friend who can speak some Turkish and is well adept at navigating the public
transportation system—a skill which was incredibly helpful since we were
staying on the Asian side of the city and the majority of the tourist attractions
are over on the European side. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The next three days in the city were a whirlwind of
adventure as we spent our time exploring the famous Turkish landmarks. Some
highlights were the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, and Topkapi Palace and tulip
gardens. Johanna and I were able to meet with two more of our friends—Karen who
also teaches at BFA and Emma who teaches in Thailand. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuuqcJWp-hQrJAWYRTt034Cb4JFC5DPOw551qsfQHxnsgd0L2mim5MwG4_3yibO5dpTRLmwet60Kle7B4A0oL1gmhW3xxnb13TQ4zT5WKRo5hBhV-swuIFSoE6c_MjObGMyi1YQ34qxS1/s1600/IMGP1145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFuuqcJWp-hQrJAWYRTt034Cb4JFC5DPOw551qsfQHxnsgd0L2mim5MwG4_3yibO5dpTRLmwet60Kle7B4A0oL1gmhW3xxnb13TQ4zT5WKRo5hBhV-swuIFSoE6c_MjObGMyi1YQ34qxS1/s1600/IMGP1145.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My Istanbul travel buddies</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To enter the Blue Mosque we had to remove our shoes and
(since we are women), cover our heads with scarves. The Blue Mosque still
functions as a place of worship, therefore it is important that those who wish
to enter are respectful of the Islamic traditions. Inside was a soft red and
blue flowered carpet as well as elaborately decorated ceiling and walls. In
contrast to Christian churches, mosques are never decorated with images of
people or animals. This is thought to be a distraction (or form of idolatry) and
may take people’s thoughts away from worshipping only God. Therefore the art is
mostly symmetric patterns, intricate mosaics, flowers, lines, colors, and
ornate Arabic calligraphy—mostly selections from the Quran or names of
important religious leaders, such as Muhammad. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4XKOyXxoRC_z7Z08LeN2rNwWXwXwUekcGrGtc8xlmHj7Pl60b2fKKY4OmP8dG20-bEzLoL2mVLmPD8RbXXqFDCNA3xoTpH04RfB8lDAYwDbWyFPtyugd1QeYamM9_xhzVAiJ3OqauhoZ/s1600/IMGP1137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4XKOyXxoRC_z7Z08LeN2rNwWXwXwUekcGrGtc8xlmHj7Pl60b2fKKY4OmP8dG20-bEzLoL2mVLmPD8RbXXqFDCNA3xoTpH04RfB8lDAYwDbWyFPtyugd1QeYamM9_xhzVAiJ3OqauhoZ/s1600/IMGP1137.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Getting ready to enter the Blue Mosque</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Although Turkey is not an Islamic State, they have had
democracy and freedom of religion since 1924, about 90% of the
population does claim to be Muslim. This being the case, the Muslim "Call to
Prayer" can be heard loud and clear on almost any corner of the city. For those
of you who are curious to hear this religious chant, take a look at the
following video.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxwBb1OuKeErhfaURvETHUqNUi0NZB4nDfrg6tOjgGC_AE1wKT_QdV9zo_ouK7cu6SXovLpaj1r9HKA_QhU1A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After the Blue Mosque, we went over to the Hagia Sophia. The
history of this museum is perhaps the most interesting of all structures that
we visited. Originally built as a Greek Orthodox church during the reign of the
Byzantine Emperor Justinian in the year 537, the church remained a Christian
place of worship all the way until the year 1453. In this year, Istanbul (then
Constantinople) was conquered by the Ottoman Turks. The Sultan Mehmed II was so
impressed with the beauty of the building that he ordered the church to be
converted into a mosque. The Christian mosaics and symbols were covered over
with plaster and replaced with Islamic artwork. Sultan Mehmed also added other
Islamic features, such as four minarets, which are the tall towers for sounding
the call to prayer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Hagia Sophia remained a mosque until 1931 when it was
closed for restoration and later opened to the public as a museum. Though a
great deal of the Christian artwork was destroyed during the Ottoman takeover,
some is still visible alongside of the Islamic art. In some cases, the
Christian mosaics were actually better preserved because they were covered over
in plaster. I was completely fascinated by this intriguing blend of both the Christian
and Muslim art and culture. It is no wonder this beautiful structure is considered
by some to be one of the Seven Wonders of the World!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqfwCOJKrItJC_G7g4yjyj-XbaO10kV-SWemvmmgmZNs1KhkNrqKHN_su6Vj1VsFayVydV9rczhOEyOxkb-vIc5c0JoGIK17fea2APfDsJGkFeGO1h8fQCMg0AsLpKriCfH-JFR3MUS19/s1600/IMGP1163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqfwCOJKrItJC_G7g4yjyj-XbaO10kV-SWemvmmgmZNs1KhkNrqKHN_su6Vj1VsFayVydV9rczhOEyOxkb-vIc5c0JoGIK17fea2APfDsJGkFeGO1h8fQCMg0AsLpKriCfH-JFR3MUS19/s1600/IMGP1163.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Notice how Mary and baby Jesus are surround by symbols of Islam</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelvQnZCXvhG0dGwWlFo3JeSb8MX1OApWdNvb2SGfOD_Au8WhWzdkpdtbVnQM9hoE5M15VEj_bDGB6tnsyPOY7B3Mz7A-JKs-x9Gq0eexkdCvBKvROmAB4AU8Iqk7VTViX3W84VZG3iWwz/s1600/IMGP1175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelvQnZCXvhG0dGwWlFo3JeSb8MX1OApWdNvb2SGfOD_Au8WhWzdkpdtbVnQM9hoE5M15VEj_bDGB6tnsyPOY7B3Mz7A-JKs-x9Gq0eexkdCvBKvROmAB4AU8Iqk7VTViX3W84VZG3iWwz/s1600/IMGP1175.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Remains of a mosaic including Christ, Mary, and John the Baptist</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The final big attraction that we saw in Istanbul
was the Topaki Palace. This palace was first constructed by Mehmed II and was
the home of the Ottoman Sultans for about 400 years. A beautiful collection of
rooms, gardens, treasures, and art this palace could only be defined as spectacular<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. </i>Regretfully, we misread the closing
sign and only had a little over an hour to explore the exquisite grounds,
chambers, treasury, and courtyards. As you can imagine, this was hardly enough
time to do justice to the 400 years of Ottoman royalty, but at least we were
able to see a glimpse of the splendor. </span></span><style>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Beautiful fountain in the third courtyard</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Gate of Salutation</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Observe the lovely statues surrounding the fountain</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTn3LAqaAS1-vXAA_ikCiQ-9AWKq3L8loM0Qdd_EL9UUkL9VONqUKVYtNoACQCSER3OKw_Nk6ZRkOhRIUS8tScBFyHT-Ovl_U94x11J80d4_v6SkIQSF38Kk2uaqk9flcLu6KuBDEaadjq/s1600/IMGP1258.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTn3LAqaAS1-vXAA_ikCiQ-9AWKq3L8loM0Qdd_EL9UUkL9VONqUKVYtNoACQCSER3OKw_Nk6ZRkOhRIUS8tScBFyHT-Ovl_U94x11J80d4_v6SkIQSF38Kk2uaqk9flcLu6KuBDEaadjq/s1600/IMGP1258.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-Nq_IPmbqRQVce4cy6alA6yGVNh-PIoDExemqjzxyG4312_7_faEbA1CflMDIxHWXtN_OtWybWkYhahONj9DGDX0JhpSWfy4Y5hHEtetr-nIentSatJB8K0tMOY6Zb4ZdJVInrTfvoot/s1600/IMGP1260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-Nq_IPmbqRQVce4cy6alA6yGVNh-PIoDExemqjzxyG4312_7_faEbA1CflMDIxHWXtN_OtWybWkYhahONj9DGDX0JhpSWfy4Y5hHEtetr-nIentSatJB8K0tMOY6Zb4ZdJVInrTfvoot/s1600/IMGP1260.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Enjoying the flowers in a nearby park</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I have so much more to write, but I'm afraid that's all I have for tonight. There is more to come on Turkey, stay tuned for my next
blog!</span></span><style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-37316184124569254702014-03-01T09:18:00.000-08:002014-03-01T09:18:34.231-08:00Ahna vs. Badger
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was about a quarter of the way through my Saturday morning
long run. It was a fairly nice day…overcast and a bit windy, but not too cold
for a nice morning run. I was just rounding the corner of Berbergweg (one of my
favorite running trails) when I encountered <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him
</i>standing on the path before me. He was tumbling pile of fur, claws, and
whiskers. His ears and the sides of his face were black, contrasting the thick
white stripe that ran down the middle of his nose and forehead. No, he wasn’t a
skunk (thankfully), but he was a large, bristle-furred, sharp-toothed, and somewhat
menacing-looking badger. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For those of you who know me well, you might recall that one
of my favorite book series as a kid was the Redwall books by Brian Jacques. If
you’ve ever entered the pages of Redwall then you are most likely aware that
the fiercest of all the animal warriors are unmistakably the badgers. According
to Jacques, once the badgers are filled with the blood-wrath known only to their
species, there is absolutely no chance of escape during battle. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And so, there I stood, frozen on the path, staring at the
badger, and trying desperately not to replay Redwall battle scenes in my head.
I thought that maybe if I could just skirt around to the side perhaps he
wouldn’t mind too much if I passed by. I could then continue peacefully with my
run. I cautiously took a step forward, but the badger was ready. He arched his
back and lifted his two front paws, hissing and snarling like a cat. Okay, now
comes the part where I should have probably turned around and made a run for it
back up the mountain. But, I was already halfway down the mountain and I had
seriously just spent the past 15 minutes running <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">up</i> the mountain. No way did I want to do that hill again. Not to
mention the best part of the trail was just beyond his furry body. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I thought for a moment longer. Maybe he was
bluffing? I inched forward a second time. Though he continued to snarl, this
time I caught the slightest bit of hesitation. I decided to call his bluff. If
he could play this game, so could I. Twisting my face into my best wild-cat
snarl, I let loose a ferocious growl (at least I imagined it to be ferocious…)
and started charging towards him full speed on the trail. The “tough guy” mask
immediately disappeared as he fell to all fours and hightailed it into the
woods as fast as his little round body could carry him. Relieved to be out of
danger, I kept running hard for another minute or two just to make sure he
wasn’t following me. On retrospect, this was probably a pretty crazy notion
that a chubby furball would be in hot pursuit of a local runner on a forest
trail in Germany…but you never know. I finished my run with no other exciting
encounters with wildlife. Perhaps my badger has already warned all his friends that
you don’t pick a fight with a West Virginia runner. :)</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKKADCxgI0s328jBT-sG4riifLKzNVEoD9PRaxrKBpae8BuMwigI2h7mlD06SHVLZz9GTD8m9Ni6E4Z8bV6bu6jnA_ZiE948TRWwEHEAAZ56P-aRjq6y3eZg_wgEq5F9UYvACynoDU1Aq/s1600/gty_badger_germany_ll_130814_16x9_992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKKADCxgI0s328jBT-sG4riifLKzNVEoD9PRaxrKBpae8BuMwigI2h7mlD06SHVLZz9GTD8m9Ni6E4Z8bV6bu6jnA_ZiE948TRWwEHEAAZ56P-aRjq6y3eZg_wgEq5F9UYvACynoDU1Aq/s1600/gty_badger_germany_ll_130814_16x9_992.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span>
Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-89237845965379407612014-02-15T14:50:00.001-08:002014-02-15T14:50:30.352-08:00New Challenges and New Blessings
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If you follow my blog pretty regularly, you’ve probably
noticed that I haven’t posted in a while. In fact, the last post that I wrote
was on Friday, January 17th. Just before going to bed that night, I wrote a
story about a little dog that I encountered on the hiking trails behind the
Garni House. I wrote about how this dog taught me a lesson about trusting in God
even when we have to face hardships, distractions, and obstacles—even when the
circumstances of life get really tough. (Just scroll down to my last post if
you want to read the whole thing.) </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I sat in my room writing that post, I never would have
imagined that the very next morning <span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">my housemates and I were about to face
one of the greatest challenges and tests of faith that we have ever before
experienced. On Saturday morning, my dear friend, housemate, and fellow English
teacher at BFA, Laura, was seriously injured in an accident at an indoor rock
climbing facility. She fell from the wall and landed on her back causing a
severe injury to her spine. I was with her during the accident as were several
of my other housemates. We called the EMT and Laura was rushed to the hospital
in Basel for emergency back surgery. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When the doctors first saw the x-rays,
they were basically convinced that Laura would never walk again. As I’m sure
you can imagine, this was some pretty difficult news for all of us to hear. At
that moment, everything seemed so hopeless. It became so easy to question where
God was in the whole situation. How could a loving God have let something like
this happen?</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Just like the sun is still shining
behind the clouds on a cloudy day, God was still with us, even through the
seeming darkness. As we waited and cried and prayed and wondered what would
happen next, evidence of God’s love, grace, and truth began to shine into our
lives like beams of hope. The surgery went well, very well in fact. The doctors
were so impressed by the post-surgery x-ray that they changed from their
earlier conclusions—walking was no longer out of the realm of the possible (not
by any means, likely or easy…but at least they were acknowledging the
possibility). What amazing evidence that God was already beginning to work healing
in Laura’s body! </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Another way that God’s light began to
shine was through Laura herself. Her outstanding courage, sincere faith,
positive spirit, and ever-present sense of humor have not dwindled during this
past month of hardship and trials. That doesn’t mean that Laura never feels exhausted
or discouraged, of course she does—we all do at times. But, I have never seen this
exhaustion or discouragement get in the way of Laura’s faith in God. Instead, I
have watched as Laura strives to be a light to the people around her, first to the
nurses and doctors at the hospital and now to the patients, nurses, therapists,
and doctors at the rehabilitation center. I praise God for the attitude of hope
and courage that he has put within her. I know that she would want no credit to
herself, but God has truly been shining through her in some pretty spectacular
ways! :)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The fact that Laura has been able to
stay in Basel for rehabilitation has also been a blessing. Her parents were
able to come and stay with her—first both her mom and dad at the hospital, and
then later just her mom at the rehabilitation center. They have both left now
to go back to the States, but what a blessing it was for Laura to have them
here with her for the first few weeks. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As you probably gathered from the
previous paragraph, Laura has “graduated” from the hospital and is now staying
at a rehabilitation center in Basel. The center is very nice with a place for
aqua therapy and even a “petting zoo,” (I don’t know what else to call it…a menagerie,
perhaps?) complete with horses, donkeys, pigs, parrots, bunnies, dogs, cats, and
other furry friends. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Laura
has physical therapy every day at the center to help her learn how to use her
“walking muscles” again. Though therapy is extremely exhausting, Laura has been
able to make some pretty exciting progress. She was able to stand with leg
support and was even able to take a few steps with the help of some parallel
bars and three assisting physical therapists! Please join me in continuing to
pray for Laura’s strength and healing. She still has a long way to go, but I am
so excited to see how God has been working already. If you would like to follow
the steps of Laura’s journey of recovery, she has a blog at <a href="http://posthope.org/laurasjourney">http://posthope.org/laurasjourney</a>.
I love reading her updates since I am not able to go visit her everyday in
Basel.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">However, last Saturday, I did have the opportunity to visit
Laura with all of the Garni girls. It was a wonderful time of being together
and celebrating Laura’s birthday. Here is a picture of all of use together. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2ZvDWS6i_JWpzAanPs_Oow9MewaNvp440KREYkNBcmc_1BLfT9tqW5rYuw4XtrzMhExknBLc2lJJrCv8HjgnPSoHYk0m_KRIgB9m5OgebsKRSZ9eDvcr38igsnc_l-hp9300sQMjjRtI/s1600/Garni+goes+to+rehab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2ZvDWS6i_JWpzAanPs_Oow9MewaNvp440KREYkNBcmc_1BLfT9tqW5rYuw4XtrzMhExknBLc2lJJrCv8HjgnPSoHYk0m_KRIgB9m5OgebsKRSZ9eDvcr38igsnc_l-hp9300sQMjjRtI/s1600/Garni+goes+to+rehab.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating with Laura on her birthday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have more updates to come, especially about the new
classes that I am now teaching at BFA, so be sure to check back for my next
post. :)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-48797150201371513562014-01-17T14:53:00.000-08:002014-01-17T14:53:57.408-08:00Big Lesson from a Little Dog
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It was a fine Saturday morning. The sun was shining brightly
over Kandern and the confused little German birds were already starting to sing their
songs of spring. It’s been so warm in Baden-Württemberg lately that the poor
little dears don’t realize it’s only January. I can’t say I that mind too much
because I absolutely love listening to bird songs while I run. In my opinion, the
sounds of nature are infinitely more preferable than listening to an ipod
(unless, of course, you are one of those people who have bird songs and ocean
surfs on your ipod…) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I run, I love listening to the crunch of the gravel under
each footstep, the wind rustling the trees, and the watery splash of any forest
streams that I happen to encounter along the trail. I enjoy the sound of my
slow, rhythmic breathing (except for when I’m going up a hill, then I kind of
have to give up on the whole “slow, rhythmic” thing). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even so, I just love the peace and tranquility
of Saturday mornings in Kandern.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There is another group who I have discovered is also rather
fond of Saturday morning exercise. I like to call them “the Kandern dog-walking
association.” Every weekend morning, I see a random assortment of German
dog-walkers leading their fine furried friends along the network of splendid
hiking trails. Oftentimes, the dogs trot along unleashed beside their masters,
enjoying not only the sounds of a Saturday morning walk, but also the
tantalizing smells that the forest never fails to offer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It so happened that on this one particular morning, I saw
two women walking about 25 meters ahead on one of my favorite
trails—Fasenengarten. A few meters ahead of these women was a small, curly
haired dog with white fluffy fur and a cute bouncy way of prancing along down
the trail. With over 14 years of running experience, I have come to learn a few
things about running past dogs. Number one: they will inevitably come to visit
you. Number two: they may snap at your heels, sniff your hand, get in your way,
run along beside you, bark uproariously, or at the very least stare you down with
undivided doggie attention. So with these two cardinal rules of dog-running in
mind, I proceeded, if not a bit more tentatively, down the trail and towards
the little ball of white fluff. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I approached, the dog noticed the sound of my footsteps
and immediately stopped prancing. “Here it comes,” I thought as I prepared
myself for an onslaught of excitable yips, tail wags, and sneaker-sniffing. To
my complete shock and amazement, the dog stood completely still on the trail.
He didn’t so much as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">look</i> at me when
I ran by. Instead, his eyes were fixed earnestly upon his master. He was
waiting for his master’s voice, his master’s guidance on what to do next. I
continued down the trail baffled by what I had seen. Never before had I seen a
dog with such calm patience. He had ignored all distractions and had just
waited patiently for the command of his beloved master. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I continued down the trail, I couldn’t help but linger
upon that image of the little dog, staring down the trail, waiting only for the
command of his master. (Here comes the part of this post where I learn a
valuable life lesson.) I began to think about my own life and how I am so often
distracted by the things that are around me. As soon as a tough situation or a new
worry come running my way, I almost immediately turn my head to get a better
look—and that’s how the trouble starts. Instead of being like the little dog
and keeping my eyes fixed upon my Master, I start to fear what is approaching.
I forget to look to God first as my source of direction and guidance. I forget
to wait for my Master’s voice. It is only when I stay focused on God and his
plan for me that I am able to safely navigate the running trails of life. So,
thanks God, for sending me a little dog to teach me a big lesson on a fine
Saturday morning in Kandern.</span></div>
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</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-11064627783621537882014-01-04T11:28:00.000-08:002014-01-04T11:28:27.644-08:00Corrie ten Boom
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For a special holiday excursion, my sister and
I had the opportunity to travel to the Netherlands to visit our cousins. We
were so excited for the chance to spend time with family and to explore the
city of Amsterdam. We spent four days in Holland and had a wonderful
experience. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For one of our day adventures, Amanda and I decided to take
the train from Amsterdam to Haarlem. For those of you who don’t know, this
picturesque little Dutch town is the setting of Corrie ten Boom’s book, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hiding Place. </i>This true story
describes how Corrie and her family helped to hide Jews and other refugees from the Nazis during
World War II. The ten Boom family were Christians who steadfastly believed that
God had called them to help protect, feed, and shelter those who were in need. Even
though they endangered their own lives and eventually ended up in concentration
camps themselves, the ten Boom family refused to ignore those in need. They would
follow God’s call in their lives to help the helpless no matter what the
outcome. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOl_JeLCgsBQoIjZgYvuVPRW5CW8Av1iYQW35575X_m_mIzfyLD44KSHRrqOFnm0hI54wkpYZiZnTRwZtzeNgLnQWPlnlo0TIqEemLR97wEofBqaN3yiqRyvn1hFtjzWKdzZNcRCVIfHdY/s1600/front+of+ten+boom.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOl_JeLCgsBQoIjZgYvuVPRW5CW8Av1iYQW35575X_m_mIzfyLD44KSHRrqOFnm0hI54wkpYZiZnTRwZtzeNgLnQWPlnlo0TIqEemLR97wEofBqaN3yiqRyvn1hFtjzWKdzZNcRCVIfHdY/s320/front+of+ten+boom.JPG" width="214" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Outside of the ten Boom home and watch shop</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So how did the ten Boom family help the Jews? Inside
Corrie’s bedroom was a secret room hidden behind the back wall. The only
entrance into this room was through the bottom panel of Corrie’s closet. In
order to enter the room, you had to slide the bottom panel upwards to create a
small entryway. Those in hiding would crawl in this entryway and then slide the
bottom panel shut so that it looked as if it was just a regular closet. The
only way to find the secret room would be to open the closet and knock on the
wall just above the floor. Only then could a person hear the echoing sound of a
hollow wall and realize that the back wall was actually hiding an extra space.
The rest of the wall was filled in completely by brick in order to mask the
echo. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQuSbm69VE9K5rRKq9nH1C1iitIzvRK3s3QA8_jGFuMNfGsJSCfWotTSU4powJ8IAGO8mplEcoIoj6wjU8xTJt8Kkjc90fC0z-ktEUvnk3AWS_znLMEePorJQ13oYT1d4x12JPCT9NJuUk/s1600/Crawling+in+hiding+place.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQuSbm69VE9K5rRKq9nH1C1iitIzvRK3s3QA8_jGFuMNfGsJSCfWotTSU4powJ8IAGO8mplEcoIoj6wjU8xTJt8Kkjc90fC0z-ktEUvnk3AWS_znLMEePorJQ13oYT1d4x12JPCT9NJuUk/s320/Crawling+in+hiding+place.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Amanda crawling out of the hiding place</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The secret room could safely hide about six people if they
were to remain standing. Since the room was not at all spacious or comfortable,
the ten Boom family created a system so that the refugees could remain outside
in the main part of the house for the majority of their time in hiding. In
times of great danger, such as when a Nazi soldier or someone unknown to the
family was in the house, Corrie or another family member would ring a secret
alarm bell, which warned the refugees that they needed to get to cover. Each of
the refugees would run to Corrie’s room and get inside the hiding place all
within 70 seconds. They practiced this drill multiple times to make sure that
they could all do it within the allotted 70 seconds. This was an extremely
impressive task considering the size of the hiding place, the narrowness of the
staircase, and the fact that the entryway was so small. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzeBJhasCKmqk5Q9K2W41QZFK_vc9W1KXNHwQ9Ljwe0XcYLTuEZVQnJ6CIN6M5OW_F70uV6Y_MGM7VMxbFExKanp9wnoyfFbtZC5_IBbUBxPaxTQhQiHSMxbihhYPVdZwi9_M5ZxyuX8y/s1600/In+hiding+place.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzeBJhasCKmqk5Q9K2W41QZFK_vc9W1KXNHwQ9Ljwe0XcYLTuEZVQnJ6CIN6M5OW_F70uV6Y_MGM7VMxbFExKanp9wnoyfFbtZC5_IBbUBxPaxTQhQiHSMxbihhYPVdZwi9_M5ZxyuX8y/s320/In+hiding+place.JPG" width="214" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Standing inside the hiding place</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Amanda and I both had the opportunity to stand inside the
hiding place. Even though a piece of the wall had been cut out so that visitors
(like us) could see more easily inside, it still felt dark, damp, and cold within
the secret room. It is hard to even imagine being closed inside, trapped in
complete darkness, listening, hoping, and praying that you will not be
discovered. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> The ten Boom family was eventually betrayed by a fellow
Dutchman. Pretending that he knew someone who was in need of help, the man
tricked the ten Booms into admitting that they were a safe house for Jews and
others in need. The man promptly informed the Nazis that the ten Booms had been
harboring Jews. On <span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">February 28, 1944, t</span>he Gestapo
came and raided the ten Boom home. Though they searched and searched, the
soldiers were unable to find the hiding place. Corrie was able to safely hide
six people (four Jews and two Dutch underground workers) in her secret room. The
refugees stayed hidden for 47 hours with nothing but room to stand, a pot for
going to the restroom, and a few crackers for food. They were eventually
rescued by crawling out of a window, onto the roof, and to a new safe house.
The ten Boom family, however, did not get away so easily. They were all sent to
Nazi concentration camps.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">View from the roof of ten Boom home</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> With the exception of Corrie, all of the ten Booms died in
the concentration camps. Corrie was miraculously released on the account of the
guards accidentally writing her name on the wrong list. (She was supposed to be
on the list to be executed with all of the other women over 50 years old.) Though
she could have been overwhelmingly bitter and broken from her experiences in
the concentration camp and the loss of her family, Corrie used the remaining 33
years of her life to spread God’s message of hope and forgiveness. She taught
others that the love of God in her gave her the freedom and peace to forgive
others—even the guards at the concentration camp who beat and tortured her and
her beloved sister. Even though Corrie died in 1983 at the age of 91, her
amazing story continues to touch the lives of many people.
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Amanda and I thoroughly enjoyed going on the tour and
learning so much about this amazing family and their story of how God used them
to bless other people during World War II. For me, the most amazing aspect of this
tour was the fact that the hero of the story was<i> not </i>Corrie ten Boom. Instead, it was God who was the unmistakable
hero of this story. Corrie wanted her life to always point to Jesus Christ as
her personal Lord and Savior. She wanted to share with the world that it was
the love and faithfulness of an everlasting, forgiving, all-powerful, and
sovereign God that gave her the strength, courage, and perseverance that she
needed to keep on loving and living for others. Corrie knew that it was God who
helped to keep the refugees safe, God who lead her safely out of Ravensbrück,
and God was gave her the love to forgive those who had mistreated her. I’m so
thankful that such an amazing story continues to be told today!</span></div>
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Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-91408088039244745562014-01-03T03:38:00.000-08:002014-01-03T03:53:05.066-08:00Fröhliche Weihnacthen <style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I realize that it’s been more than a few days since I last
made a blog post. Sorry to disappear from the blog-world, but, as I’m sure you
can imagine, the month of November and December have been extremely busy here
at Black Forest Academy. Not only did we have major school events such as the
first home basketball game, the Christmas Banquet, and the Christmas concert
featuring the orchestra, band, and choir, but we also had papers to grade,
tests to give, and the campus to clean in preparation for the new semester. Needless
to say we made it through all these events with flying colors and watched the
happy tears and hugs as students packed their belongings and headed off to the
airport to travel home for the holidays. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On the last day of school before Christmas Break, I had the
special blessing of getting to meet the father of one of my cross-country
runners. Her father had come all the way to Kandern so that he could see the
school, visit the dorm, meet some of the teachers, and travel home with his
daughter. Now that I have been at BFA for almost an entire semester, I have
come to realize that one of the greatest blessings of working at such a school is
getting to meet the parents of my students. There are few things more
satisfying than being able to tell a parent how wonderful it has been to coach
or teach their child. I could see the love and pride in this father’s eyes as I
told him what a joy it has been to have his daughter on my cross-country team. I
told him how much I appreciated her positive attitude and constant smile and
what an encouragement she has been to me, the other coaches, and to her teammates.
He thanked me for coaching her and for taking care of her while he and his wife
are serving in the Middle East. I am so thankful that God has given me the
opportunity to be a blessing to this family!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We have all been on Christmas Break for about two and a half
weeks now, but the crazy thing is that I still fell like the break just
started. I guess that’s how it works sometimes, we spend all our time waiting,
and then the long awaited event is gone before we hardly realize it began. But
believe me, I’m still soaking up all the mental and physical rest that I can
before January 7th and the return to school. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXCr_CsZ4uf37IYz3XzDpY68687sjcCj3BHFUc1FTCo5Vxn5fHzmeBKtYHrySU728jS6XNby-3Yo0cWh-s7NNU-4ENfGOs8VNwhyvjwv5WfS3T9-BZqFt2T9vx4O_DwD74R3dzQfct1nt/s1600/IMGP0797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXCr_CsZ4uf37IYz3XzDpY68687sjcCj3BHFUc1FTCo5Vxn5fHzmeBKtYHrySU728jS6XNby-3Yo0cWh-s7NNU-4ENfGOs8VNwhyvjwv5WfS3T9-BZqFt2T9vx4O_DwD74R3dzQfct1nt/s320/IMGP0797.JPG" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frying potato pancakes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Perhaps one of my most favorite European Christmas
activities that I have enjoyed over break has been visiting the European Christmas
markets. For those of you who know me well, you know that I love markets. I
love tasting the local foods, admiring the handmade crafts, and exploring the
various aspects of culture that you can only discover at a market place. Well,
the Christmas markets of France and Germany are some of the finest. There are
fresh bratwurst and weißwurst grilling on the street, hot potato pancakes deep-fried
and topped with applesauce, spiced Glühwein, Nutella crepes, chocolate dipped
fruits, and fresh waffles right off the griddle.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBiLjkdYcTgLtRo6DptFnc_BDYYm95IsIY1_BMKvNEs5XMPZRiOVBd0ZVPLQqEoeMrINdKifZMxpsJ4PSI-QSs5bQouBdlLPSGyhX-tTXzTRc-Waq-KDO1XcyB-z8rOmHpOcBdQLh4oqe/s1600/IMGP0792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBiLjkdYcTgLtRo6DptFnc_BDYYm95IsIY1_BMKvNEs5XMPZRiOVBd0ZVPLQqEoeMrINdKifZMxpsJ4PSI-QSs5bQouBdlLPSGyhX-tTXzTRc-Waq-KDO1XcyB-z8rOmHpOcBdQLh4oqe/s320/IMGP0792.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shopping for stars at the Freiburg Christmas market!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">There are beautiful hand painted glass balls,
wood-cut Christmas ornaments, light-up paper stars, wool scarves, hats, and
mittens, fine chocolates, dried fruits, flowers, and handmade cards. </span>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As a special blessing for this Christmas, I had a visitor
all the way from the USA—my sister! I loved having the opportunity to spend
time with Amanda and show her around Germany during the Christmas season. I
don’t think I could have wished for a better Christmas present! :)</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg92fPjq1XyhCKEqTIC7Sh6p0R1U6XtyAm8R8oIDwws8NeRV8SmRJwpGVYFr2SoN5JvExEJr0KZczZEthutxraUm6qPQbQdEA7PUTFPPTXwYPM_zIItQ5pXoT1-5zPYUQP1Mx2WgCsrj2f/s1600/IMGP0852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg92fPjq1XyhCKEqTIC7Sh6p0R1U6XtyAm8R8oIDwws8NeRV8SmRJwpGVYFr2SoN5JvExEJr0KZczZEthutxraUm6qPQbQdEA7PUTFPPTXwYPM_zIItQ5pXoT1-5zPYUQP1Mx2WgCsrj2f/s320/IMGP0852.JPG" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best Christmas present...a visit from Amanda!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-84622579506027450752013-11-12T05:22:00.000-08:002013-11-12T05:22:37.574-08:00A New Role
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This past week marked the beginning of a new role for me
here at BFA. With the conclusion of cross-country season, it was time to start
thinking about an additional way that I could invest my time here on campus.
Well, as I soon discovered, at a school like BFA, as soon as you so much as hint
that you may be looking for something else to do, it only takes a matter of
minutes before a new job is found for you. For me, this new job came in the
form of an email from the principal of the middle school. In her email, the
principal asked if I would be interested in teaching a newspaper elective twice
a week to 6-8 grade BFA students. Excited at the prospect of having more
students and conscious of the fact that the class would end before the start of
track season, I eagerly accepted the job. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Most of you who know me well, know that I like to be
prepared and organized, especially when I am heading into a new job situation.
Well, imagine how I felt the night before my first class knowing that I would
be teaching a brand new group of students, but having no idea how many students
I would have or in what grades they would be. I know from experience that
planning for a class of 6<sup>th</sup> graders is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">totally</i> different than planning for a class of 8<sup>th</sup>
graders! So, even though I was stretched a bit out of my comfort zone, I did my
best to craft a plan that would hopefully keep the attention of all age groups.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On the first day of class, I was pleased to find eleven
eager and smiling faces waiting for me at the middle school computer lab. As I
anticipated, I had a range of students in all three grades—four 6<sup>th</sup>
graders, two 7<sup>th</sup> graders, and five 8<sup>th</sup> graders. So yes,
quite diverse in ages, but overall a great mix of students to head the school
paper.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So how was my first day? Let’s just say that coming from
teaching a class of mature and articulate high school juniors and seniors to
the energy and exuberance of the middle school brings new meaning to the phrase
“culture shock.” Thankfully, I do have past experience teaching middle
schoolers or else I’m not sure that I would have been ready for the middle world
mayhem. And by “mayhem” I don’t necessarily mean uncontrollable chaos, I mean
more along the lines of extreme energy. Seriously, I’m not sure if I’ve ever
met a group so excited to learn, so excited about life, or so excited to
participate in absolutely every aspect of the class. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Who would like to read the first paragraph?”—eleven hands
instantly explode into the air. “Would someone please…”—I have six volunteers
before I have even finished the sentence. “Do we have any ideas for the layout
of the paper?”—there are more ideas than I can write on the board. “Let’s all
stand up like real news reporters when we do our presentations, okay?”—the
students are not only standing, but are holding up their pencils like pretend
microphones, are speaking in impressively accurate foreign accents (gotta love
TCKs), and are doing their best to add as much emphasis as possible to every
one of their sentences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Though it was crazy and action-packed, my first day left me
with no doubt that teaching middle school newspaper is going to be a tremendously
fun adventure! Check back later for more updates. :)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-16175803290721368882013-10-26T13:29:00.000-07:002013-10-26T13:29:03.461-07:00Celebrating the XC Season
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This Thursday, I had the privilege of hosting the BFA cross-country
team for an end-of-the-season celebration dinner at my home. Since many of the
runners are dorm students and are used to eating food catered from Sodexo every
weekday evening, I thought it might be nice to change things up for them and
cook a special homemade meal. Also, instead of bringing the food to the school
and eating in the cafeteria, I thought that it would be nice to enjoy the
warm and “homey” feeling of the Garni House. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After receiving approval from my roommates (when you live
with six other women, it’s pretty important to get “house approval” before
inviting 12 additional people for dinner…), I went ahead and invited the team. I was now left with two major decisions: what to cook and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how much</i> to cook! For any of you who
have ever hosted dinner parties, you probably know that one of the biggest
challenges is planning how much food to make. This decision can be particularly
difficult when the majority of the party are hungry teenage athletes who have
just gotten back from a long day at school.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The second big challenge is deciding what to cook. I wanted
it to be something fairly easy, fairly inexpensive, fairly healthy, and super
delicious, but I also wanted it to be something that all teenagers like to eat.
So, of course, I fell back on the standard “go-to” dish easily found at any gathering of
runners—pasta. However, instead of boring ‘ole spaghetti, I decided that I
would mix up a batch of homemade baked ziti. I had to write home first for
mom’s recipe. (Thanks Mom!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With the culinary assistance of Michelle (Head Coach
Hunter’s wife), I was able to whip up a stellar batch of cheesy, saucy, noodley
goodness (much enjoyed by all the runners) as well as some tantalizing sides
like salad, bread, and sautéed zucchini. Jesse (our awesome volunteer assistant
coach and my running buddy here at BFA) brought a delicious chocolate cake…which
ended up being a chocolate “lava” cake because of complications with our German
oven. ;) Still tasted delicious, by the way. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_DmvVYrPMEhz1jb6Ba37-kQlBQVyN8snjfJgzbRO0rkPEye_fRrlDoPbNdzi1hZuntmezv-lL8Sv117etPOoEUeJvfnLvUjnUDEfsjSuVjtz0xlOrYURF5GWijikOlwGtEuLKM_cOOoJ/s1600/IMGP0655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_DmvVYrPMEhz1jb6Ba37-kQlBQVyN8snjfJgzbRO0rkPEye_fRrlDoPbNdzi1hZuntmezv-lL8Sv117etPOoEUeJvfnLvUjnUDEfsjSuVjtz0xlOrYURF5GWijikOlwGtEuLKM_cOOoJ/s320/IMGP0655.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying dinner!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">During dinner, we went around the table and each of the
runners and coaches took turns sharing their favorite memories of the season. In
typical high school fashion, responses ranged anywhere from the sentimental (building
strong friendships) to the practical (eating nachos at Taco Bell). At the
conclusion of dinner, the runners gathered in the living room for a special
end-of-season awards ceremony. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVgUkLe_-BFN42Ao7d6Y_tWuuv-zw38IrUKSHN76Yq7pXft5y3DdEyDePDPC5Uh2mhgtKhd_IZxt3cBx17cEkZfYD0ok_VgNEzCXWmqRN3Dfzf0cnTzAfvvM1_Ui3C_BRfRd7uJI6cep-b/s1600/Looking+at+award.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVgUkLe_-BFN42Ao7d6Y_tWuuv-zw38IrUKSHN76Yq7pXft5y3DdEyDePDPC5Uh2mhgtKhd_IZxt3cBx17cEkZfYD0ok_VgNEzCXWmqRN3Dfzf0cnTzAfvvM1_Ui3C_BRfRd7uJI6cep-b/s200/Looking+at+award.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">XC girls admiring the awards </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Coach Hunter and I gave out three awards. The first two
awards—the “Perseverance Award” for the ability to press on in the midst of
challenges and the “MVP Award” for outstanding athleticism, leadership, and
contribution to the team—were voted on by fellow team members. The third and
final award—the Falcon Award for outstanding dedication, leadership,
commitment, positive attitude, and Christ-like example—was solely the decision
of the coaches. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">XC guys also excited about the awards</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In addition to the awards, each team member also received their
very own BFA XC team T-shirt. The back of the shirt was decorated with the exotic
nicknames we had invented during the season, such as “Leaf Catcher Supreme,
Sausenford, Sunshine, The Lost Boys, Captain, and Canadian Fairy.” There’s a
story behind each of those names, I promise!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdApBpMZL3UqjJSDjryxKabucj2QOv6hqPAEdQHOx4PPCqtvH5BREdJz7pYsFJw_7Tk3maPq11Oxb37P2T-Ib2KVHuABr3CrYHsP8ZhQgO7hyphenhyphenKXBrC-ZbuCe-MSVndXpJERYOMP-nTiROS/s1600/Recieving+tshirts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdApBpMZL3UqjJSDjryxKabucj2QOv6hqPAEdQHOx4PPCqtvH5BREdJz7pYsFJw_7Tk3maPq11Oxb37P2T-Ib2KVHuABr3CrYHsP8ZhQgO7hyphenhyphenKXBrC-ZbuCe-MSVndXpJERYOMP-nTiROS/s320/Recieving+tshirts.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay! New T-shirts! :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Altogether it was an awesome time of fellowship and
celebration. I am looking forward to next season and all the new adventures and
memories that will come with it!</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-64984082619591925142013-10-20T12:49:00.001-07:002013-10-20T12:49:48.113-07:00Racing at Home
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Perhaps you remember from my last prayer letter how I talked
about missing the fall season back in West Virginia. I missed the changing
leaves, the blue skies, and the crisp cool air mixed with bright rays of October
sunshine. I missed going for runs in the Arboretum, watching red and yellow
leaves float leisurely down from the heavens to carpet the trail in a glorious
cascade of fall colors. (Okay, so I admit to using a bit of hyperbole in this
description, but when you are missing home, memories do tend to get
exaggerated...) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For most of this year, the Kandern autumn has seemed so
dreary and colorless to me. I felt trapped in a constant cycle of rain, mud,
and green-brown drab. It is funny how feelings—homesickness, loneliness,
doubt—can shape not only our moods, but also how we see the world around us.
This week, God has been teaching me an important lesson about patience and
waiting on him. He is teaching me to look for signs of his faithfulness through
even times when I don’t always feel that he is near. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This Saturday, I received a special blessing from God. For
some, it might have just seemed like a lovely day in October, but for me, it
was a beautiful, tangible reminder of God’s love for me. He knew the aching in
my heart to see blue skies, to feel the warm sunshine, and to see leaves begin
to change color and decorate the trails with a blanket of red, yellow, and
orange. He knew that I was missing memories of home in West Virginia. And so, God
chose to give me a beautiful October Saturday—a day that can only be described
as autumn at it’s absolute finest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To add another layer of awesome to this story, this wonderful
Saturday just so happened to be the same day that Black Forest Academy was
hosting the HOME cross-country meet and our team’s FINAL meet of the season. What
a perfect way to end the season!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As you can probably imagine, hosting a cross-country meet is
not an easy task. In fact, the amount of planning and preparation involved can
be mind-boggling at times. (Hosting a track meet is much worse, so I really
shouldn’t complain too much!) However, thanks to hard work of our head coach
and all the terrific volunteers from BFA (including 2 of my roomies, thanks
guys!) we were able to get everything accomplished on time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At 8:30 the morning of the race, Hunter (head coach) and I
headed out onto to the trails. Our task, marking the kilometers and roping off
the side trails in order to keep the local hikers from “wandering” onto our
course (Yes, that was a German joke for my bilingual audience). In order to make
sure that we finished our task in time, Hunter and I decided to travel the
trail in opposite directions. He carried the sledge hammer and the kilometer
makers and I took the mountain bike, red and white striped caution tape, a
stapler from my office, and a collection of signs which read “Heute 11 bis 14
Uhr – Waldlauf. Bitte Sie der Weg freihalten.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My task took longer than expected, considering the fact that
I ran out of tape about halfway through the adventure and had to travel all the
way back to the athletic van to find more. Even though it took a while, I loved
the time to just be quiet, calm, and peaceful in the forest. It seemed strange
that in about 2 hours the course would be bombarded with the footsteps of
enthusiastic high school runners, but for now, the woods were just for me—quiet,
serene, and filled with all the wonders of a fresh October morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I finally completed marking the trail at about 11:00am, right
around the time when my BFA runners were supposed to arrive at the course. The
other schools had already set up their camps and had headed out on the
traditional “course preview”— basically a chance for runners to walk the course
and get a feel for the turns, hills, and terrain. The girls race was set to
take place at 12:30pm, so we still had a bit of time to relax before warm-ups. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, of course, we took full advantage of our extra time to
talk race strategy and… take a few goofy team photos. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4D0goYsHSI8JxfMMaEHU_fgN1mJp_Nhyphenhyphengh88n63e6vE1FRzrrTdyYQrXGw0YMFDR7_kgO2y2Je0TtfVXEQefxSs0kHiEayN4yB2mnZiuPEz2pdE4L00oyQxf38Ghqy0PkIsaxcG5YJgD/s1600/holding+Amanda.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4D0goYsHSI8JxfMMaEHU_fgN1mJp_Nhyphenhyphengh88n63e6vE1FRzrrTdyYQrXGw0YMFDR7_kgO2y2Je0TtfVXEQefxSs0kHiEayN4yB2mnZiuPEz2pdE4L00oyQxf38Ghqy0PkIsaxcG5YJgD/s320/holding+Amanda.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holding up our smallest team member</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hydrating before the race</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After a warm-up jog, some drills, and a team prayer, my
girls were ready to step up to the line. Hans Fung, the beloved academic dean
of BFA, was the chosen to have the honor of firing the gun to start the race. So
with a loud crack, a puff of smoke, and a big cheer for Team BFA, the girls headed
out into the adventure of the forest in the fall. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrfpiG04GwObRuMGx9k98VJ6XjJxCupRLQS1ljgIoQ53EpBAUN0lPveJIVaiJkF0PMxEWFnWarGY6KpRa2tqJdJXPvOd7NRNWDjBshKBgFv9gpZb-KSfDKCbLAYwXXr1dbCuNUAW2ihGl/s1600/Start+of+girls+race.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrfpiG04GwObRuMGx9k98VJ6XjJxCupRLQS1ljgIoQ53EpBAUN0lPveJIVaiJkF0PMxEWFnWarGY6KpRa2tqJdJXPvOd7NRNWDjBshKBgFv9gpZb-KSfDKCbLAYwXXr1dbCuNUAW2ihGl/s320/Start+of+girls+race.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start of the girls' race</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I think the sunshine and the smiles carried our team a long
way today. Once again, our places and times may not have been stellar, but the
memories were unforgettable. I'm so thankful for each and every one of my runners. :)</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And thanks, God, for knowing exactly what I needed to bring
me joy on this Saturday morning in Germany.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ptm4cO6Zu2SnZexE0mYk95FMm0MKfygTgoIdSwQ1j2KpXughTVnc_VbF6sfNtOzNhiImh6gJVzMg91Zp4jpPT7njF1LjNIvckYaVtMBRTJqMZpQCQwSFZXtLdco7BD4aruc3Q5sYsBfL/s1600/Run+Hanna+me+Jesse.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ptm4cO6Zu2SnZexE0mYk95FMm0MKfygTgoIdSwQ1j2KpXughTVnc_VbF6sfNtOzNhiImh6gJVzMg91Zp4jpPT7njF1LjNIvckYaVtMBRTJqMZpQCQwSFZXtLdco7BD4aruc3Q5sYsBfL/s320/Run+Hanna+me+Jesse.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the run with Jesse and Hanna!</td></tr>
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</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-69471259343610083902013-10-17T14:17:00.000-07:002013-10-17T14:17:09.834-07:00Dinner at Wittlingen
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This week, I had the privilege of dining as a guest at Witt
dorm. A student from my journalism class invited me over to her dorm to share
in the Wednesday night Korean meal. Since there is such a vast Korean
population here at BFA, each of the dorms cater a Korean-style dinner once a
week. The students always enjoy this special change in the menu. :)
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After a long day of teaching and coaching, I piled into the
“dinner van” with about 5 or 6 of the Witt girls who had stayed late after
school. A 10-minute drive later, we arrived at doorstep of the dorm. I watched
as the excited girls unloaded the two tubs of food from the back of the van and
carried it eagerly towards the kitchen. My student was the perfect hostess,
welcoming me into the dorm, taking my coat, showing me where I could leave my
bag, and introducing me to all of her dorm sisters. After chatting for a few
minutes in the living room, an announcement came over the loud speaker that it
was time for dinner and “for all hungry girls to make their way to the dining
room.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My hostess led me into the dining area and we took a seat at
one of the many tables. Since Witt used to be a hotel, there is a creative
arrangement of seats and benches built right into the sides of the dining room
wall. After taking a seat, my student was asked to introduce her guest to the
rest of the dorm. I was greeted with cheers and loud banging on the tables—a
Witt tradition used to welcome special guests. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At the conclusion of introductions, the dorm mom asked if
one of the students would like to pray for the meal. My student immediately
volunteered and even offered to pray in Korean. I love hearing people pray in
other languages. Even though I can’t understand, it is so cool to know that God
understands every word. With the guests introduced and the prayers said, it was
now time to enjoy the food!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In the center of the dining room, there was a long table
spread with the evening’s dinner selection. There was a huge pot of Korean
white rice, two giant pans of Korean-style curry (yum!), and a large bowl of
salad. At the end of the table, there was a tub of Korean pepper paste, which
sort of looks like ground-up chili peppers. Normally, I would know better than
to try anything that looks like ground-up chili peppers, but since my hostess
insisted that I try it, I went ahead and put a dollop on the side of my plate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">About halfway through the meal, my student asked me if I was
going to try the pepper paste. “Sure,” I responded somewhat tentatively, “can I
just eat it plain?” She looked at me kind of funny and shook her head, “I don’t
think you want to do that.” I decided to try my luck by dipping a curried
potato in the paste. It was hot, but really not too hot. I have been working on
building up my spice tolerance recently...so I guess my efforts must have paid
off. However, I am sure that if you put a plate of traditional Korean kimchi
before me, I probably wouldn’t have stood a chance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After dinner, my student took me on a tour of the dorm. It
was fun seeing the dorm from the “insider’s perspective.” It was so much more
warm and inviting than from when I first visited the dorms back in August. Now
that the girls have moved into Witt, there is laughter in the living room,
typing in the computer room, and sounds of music in the practice rooms. There is
even a tower of blankets and pillows in front of the big screen TV for Friday
night movie parties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One of my favorite parts of the tour was when my student
began telling me about all the Witt traditions—like getting dropped in a
bathtub of water on your birthday or lining the street and doing the “wave” to
say farewell to departing guests. By just hearing these stories, I felt more
connected to the culture and tradition of the dorm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Regretfully, my visit was cut short as it was time for all
dinner guests to return home. Student study hours were about to begin and these
have to be kept a priority in a dorm of 24 high school students. Even though my
visit wasn’t very long, I know that this will not be the last time that I spend
an evening experiencing the dorm life here at BFA. :)</span></div>
Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-67533375604934615572013-10-13T05:10:00.001-07:002013-10-13T05:10:30.295-07:00Adventures of Coach Lewis
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I’m sitting on a charter bus, listening to the conversation,
laughter, and musical stylings of about 30 BFA high school students. For this
weekend’s athletic road trip, the 25 girls of the volleyball team
joined with the 7 runners of the cross-country team (5 girls and 2
boys) to travel the Autobahn for a competition at the Bitburg Airforce Base
(about 6.5 “bus hours” away from Kandern). </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJJc7tjDIQxMD7BCFAIaxB0i7gi45EUamtj5faS1Tds4ILmX2-F-4qDlFEJbFtpMkspzQQsWjjkdC00wymIFuBXVGQ6tCn2_1LfHoNKtsepBnkFTdbZiHs-bORhOEALisHV1WVfqUoPbW/s1600/Bitburg+school.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJJc7tjDIQxMD7BCFAIaxB0i7gi45EUamtj5faS1Tds4ILmX2-F-4qDlFEJbFtpMkspzQQsWjjkdC00wymIFuBXVGQ6tCn2_1LfHoNKtsepBnkFTdbZiHs-bORhOEALisHV1WVfqUoPbW/s320/Bitburg+school.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bitburg High School</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For me, this was my first time to ever coach/chaperone an
overnight meet. Going into this adventure, I wasn’t overly concerned. As a
former collegiate runner, I was used to the life of a traveling athlete—staying
at comfortable hotels, eating at Italian restaurants, watching TV, and spending time
with my teammates doing crossword puzzles in the lobby of the Hampton Inn. I
mean, with memories like these, how difficult could an overnight trip be? Piece
of cake, right? Wrong! Let’s just say, coaching an athletic team at BFA is not
for the faint of heart. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In order to preserve the athletic budget for the entirety of
the season, BFA opts to spend nights on the military bases. Regretfully, this
does not mean on the plush white mattresses of the Hampton. Instead, staying at
the base means staying at the high school, in the gymnasium, on the floor. (Or
on a wrestling mat, if you’re really brave…) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Armed with Jesse’s yoga mat and Hunter’s extra sleeping bag,
I too enjoyed a night’s rest(?) on the hard gym floor at Bitburg. Honestly, by
the time we arrived at the base, had our passports checked, got the girls
settled in the wrestling room and the boys settled in the open gym, brushed our
teeth, and set up our sleeping bags, I was so utterly exhausted that I probably
could have slept anywhere! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But just for future reference, don’t park your sleeping bag
directly under a lighted exit sign. They’re quite bright and, as I found out
the hard way, they don’t turn off at night. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3noqwDulDc7FkSk4rCPfatdvbZeWEjGT39Zm5Ayau-aPFk5moMCqGjzO2swiS266ZGAnQvwn8689DvXXfARoDZkSmSZBGpZMuIK5Wq-Ana52qI9bntGmntqf4SlmYtcts0LoQphbghCC/s1600/German+exit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD3noqwDulDc7FkSk4rCPfatdvbZeWEjGT39Zm5Ayau-aPFk5moMCqGjzO2swiS266ZGAnQvwn8689DvXXfARoDZkSmSZBGpZMuIK5Wq-Ana52qI9bntGmntqf4SlmYtcts0LoQphbghCC/s320/German+exit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">German exit sign</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Regardless of my lack of sleep quality, I woke up at 7am
(five minutes before my alarm, as usual) bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready
to coach a fantastic day of cross-country running! We fed the kids a hearty
breakfast of whole wheat English muffins, hard-boiled eggs (the Germans sell
colored, hard-boiled Easter eggs year-round), peanut butter, granola bars, and
bananas. Thankfully, we only had to pack enough food for the XC team. I think I
would have been a little overwhelmed if I had to plan for an additional 25
volleyball players.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While the volleyball team left on the charter bus to play at
a nearby base, we rode with some Bitburg parent volunteers over to the
cross-country course. Nestled among rolling German hills, the Bitburg course meanders
peacefully around a beautiful forest lake. Completely flat with smooth footing
and beautiful scenery, this course promised to bring good tidings to the BFA
cross-country team. The day was cool, crisp, and clear. The runners were
healthy and injury-free and this was our last away meet of the season. I felt
certain that we were going to snag a few more European qualifying times on such
a beautiful morning. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TbenH6a6C7qeebwRAM-wmY9nTJlRbbnLWNaJ_ObxMtvAZl9A6eQuwZ_-4Kd1ad0VUXcLrT-pYl81Sj-dn7NGdNoBuY0NRYcpjd7Xx8jNu7M6070tLWnrhZcW8iHPzcxZTqxq0y5IS_wS/s1600/IMGP0641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TbenH6a6C7qeebwRAM-wmY9nTJlRbbnLWNaJ_ObxMtvAZl9A6eQuwZ_-4Kd1ad0VUXcLrT-pYl81Sj-dn7NGdNoBuY0NRYcpjd7Xx8jNu7M6070tLWnrhZcW8iHPzcxZTqxq0y5IS_wS/s320/IMGP0641.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful XC Course</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8vbFDJV67tflDWMCazovzXmD5VQGjmtY9JKcfy-s3tQUYyQbXxp0krlQT0HoJNB4ZWwqiyF8ZM6nGF5K2iFvFNcDAtLKb6lJQoJbTYKYqjZvAg1Ll-I6kYRbdo4T3GaufdZp5OXeTYtF/s1600/IMGP0643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8vbFDJV67tflDWMCazovzXmD5VQGjmtY9JKcfy-s3tQUYyQbXxp0krlQT0HoJNB4ZWwqiyF8ZM6nGF5K2iFvFNcDAtLKb6lJQoJbTYKYqjZvAg1Ll-I6kYRbdo4T3GaufdZp5OXeTYtF/s320/IMGP0643.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The girls started their race in a blur of excitement and
cheers. Since the course was basically one big loop around the lake, I knew
that I would not be able to have too many “cheering/coaching” stations.
Therefore, I worked out a plan to run the course backwards, meet them about
half way to cheer, and then continue on to meet them at the finish line. </span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At the halfway point, the BFA team was looking strong. Some
of my girls were actually smiling as they ran past me. I cheered loudly, as a
proud coach should, and then tore off in the other direction, hoping to be able
to beat the lead pack back to the finish line. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I made it to the finish line with time to spare
and stood there waiting in anticipation, hoping that each one of my girls might
be having the race of her life…hoping that each one might run a European
Championship qualifying time. I watched nervously as the numbers of my watch
clicked closer and closer to the 25 minute mark, the cut-off for qualification.
The first place girl, a runner from Wiesbaden, finished in around 21 minutes…next
pack came in at 22 minutes, now 23 minutes…where were my BFA girls?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I watched in disappointment as the clock turned over 24:58,
24:59, 25:00. It was too late. The qualifying mark was gone and I hadn’t seen a
single one of my girls. We would not be running at Europeans. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Finally, about a minute and a half later, I saw them. They
were coming in strong and in a tighter pack then they had ever run been before.
I watched as each of my girls crossed the line all within one minute of each
other—a feat that they had never before accomplished. It was an exciting achievement, but I was still feeling frustrated as a coach. What good is it to finish together, if we all finish in the back of the pack? This not only loses races, but it also doesn't get any European qualifiers. Still holding onto my frustration, I walked over to find my team at the finish line.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What I saw next was beautiful. The BFA girls' team had all turned to face one
another. They locked arms in a circle and hugged each other in a tight embrace,
each girl laughing and smiling in the beauty of the moment. No, they hadn’t run phenomenal times. In fact,
they weren’t even close to running their best times…but today, they had achieved
a different type of goal. They were a team, they were united, and they had run entirely for one another. I watched them as they smiled and laughed together. I knew then that even if we didn’t qualify, it had still been a successful meet. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bAfDcrT7BWMuczJ3phFebrtW-c4YNQl_xFtcLXJCzI-CvMX1_NVUMJMpAPqtZsO4gisPPaD4MftRdm4nGANKXtykRR6yfreu3q8x4o7PNs-MEfvNVJY4iGsVNS2b4k3D0nvbEy3S80eJ/s1600/IMGP0642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bAfDcrT7BWMuczJ3phFebrtW-c4YNQl_xFtcLXJCzI-CvMX1_NVUMJMpAPqtZsO4gisPPaD4MftRdm4nGANKXtykRR6yfreu3q8x4o7PNs-MEfvNVJY4iGsVNS2b4k3D0nvbEy3S80eJ/s320/IMGP0642.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wonderful XC girls, enjoying post-race french fries!</td></tr>
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</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-84473912929864186552013-09-27T05:42:00.000-07:002013-09-27T14:03:39.670-07:00Racing the Basel 10K<style>
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</style><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is not often that you can
begin a story, “The first time I ever visited Switzerland, I raced a 10K.” Well,
for me, this line rings true. Last Sunday was my first time to ever make a
visit to Switzerland. Along with this exciting accomplishment, it was also my
first time to ever enter a 10K road race with over 530 competitors. And to add
a little more icing to the cake, it was also my first time to ever win an
international road race. :) By now, you are probably wanting to hear the rest
of the story, so here goes…</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUg3GSApuZrBWsajvsLVURzUwagUzk47GkBCQkcN5ZRZLeVtzE7plvZQxIIFBemqN58XnhWzEwdT0pRukhCHhdY66jtKToyv27lpQ_oXXdLIE9Vb9RkQoHCVKm6IgSV2VR9UXwpEwPEFc/s1600/Rhine_Basel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUg3GSApuZrBWsajvsLVURzUwagUzk47GkBCQkcN5ZRZLeVtzE7plvZQxIIFBemqN58XnhWzEwdT0pRukhCHhdY66jtKToyv27lpQ_oXXdLIE9Vb9RkQoHCVKm6IgSV2VR9UXwpEwPEFc/s320/Rhine_Basel.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Basel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It was a chilly September
morning in the beautiful city of Basel, Switzerland. Runners from the surrounding
regions came pouring into the city, eagerly anticipating the start of the Basel
marathon, half marathon, and 10K. Crowds wearing brightly colored spandex,
fluorescent warm-up jackets, compression socks, racing flats, wristwatches, and
headbands filed in and out of the registration arena. I breathed a sign of
relief amongst these exercise-loving, morning-happy runners. Though I may have
been thousands of miles away from my home in West Virginia, I knew at once that
I had returned to my people.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPSDXjK_kdFHaOI0gygxgiURaXsvrRTIeFPKAeH5YzJLUzNCF5DYGE4-lICtYpRYxiGM-ShvCyteC5Vcfsx07_wwRow-_b68e6DlAJw9Hb96q_s0sugTx3yJXHJuvtH9za5TqA3ysRqxU/s1600/Team+BFA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqPSDXjK_kdFHaOI0gygxgiURaXsvrRTIeFPKAeH5YzJLUzNCF5DYGE4-lICtYpRYxiGM-ShvCyteC5Vcfsx07_wwRow-_b68e6DlAJw9Hb96q_s0sugTx3yJXHJuvtH9za5TqA3ysRqxU/s320/Team+BFA.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BFA Teacher Team!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I stood in line with about
12 other BFA teachers who had all decided that
they too would like to be part of this ambitious racing endeavor. As we waited
to pick up our registration packets, bib numbers, and complementary draw-string
bags, I nervously glanced at the clock. It was less than 25 minutes until start
time and none of my teacher friends showed any inkling of wanting to go warm up
for the race. In fact, it seemed to me that they were all just going to walk to
the start line and go. What about a 20 minute warm-up jog, dynamic stretching,
form drills, changing shoes, and pre-race strides…what about everything I was
ever taught to do before a race? I tried to calm myself down…“this isn’t
college, there’s no points, no scoring, no prize money. This is just to have
fun. I’m not going to warm-up. I’m not going to change my shoes. And I’m
definitely not going to do any drills. Besides, I’m sick. I caught a cold last
Friday in school and I shouldn’t be racing anyway. I’m just going to go have a
jolly fun time and jog it.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, this attitude lasted a
good 6.7 seconds. As soon as I saw the start line with the hundreds of people
lined up to race, I knew without a doubt what I was going to do. I was going to
try to win the Basel 10K. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">By now, it was too late to
change into my racing flats, but I could still manage a 4 minute jog around the
start area. So jog I did, across the bridge spanning the Rhine River, past the
little old lady who smiled at my smile (I like to smile at people when I’m
running) and back to the start line. By now, the starting area was really getting
crowded. The other BFAers urged me to go up near the front, but the best I
could do was somewhere near the middle. In a pack of 538 people (244 women and
294 men), “somewhere near the middle” isn’t very helpful when you are trying to
win a race. But it was the best I could do. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Within minutes, the start
siren sounded and we were off. Well, more appropriately “they” were off. Since
there were so many people, it takes a while to actually get moving. I was boxed
in by at least 150 people. Though I was frustrated, I tried to keep my cool. “The
pack will open soon…you’ll be able to get around them.” After 3 or 4 seconds
(though it felt like an eternity), I finally managed to take a few halting
steps forward and was able to slip through a little break in the crowd in front
of me. There was a guy nearby who looked just as frustrated as me. He was tall,
muscular, and obviously very fit. I could tell that he wanted to get moving too. So
I did what every veteran racer would have done in the same situation, I
followed his path through the crowd. Within minutes, he had led me safely
through the melee and into the freedom of the open road. Now I could begin to
formulate a strategy. I needed to catch the lead woman and I needed to do it
quickly before she got any further ahead. Seemed simple enough. With the plan
in mind, I set out blazing down the Basel roads in order to catch as many women
as I could (and any men that happened to be in the way.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was about 2 kilometers
into the race and I was still catching women. The strange part was that these
women weren’t even running that fast. I couldn’t quite figure out why they would
run the first 2K at 6:00-6:15 pace and then would just slow to a leisurely 7:15.
Why go out so hard if they weren’t going to be able to maintain it? And to
further complicate matters this guy on a bike kept insisting on biking right in
front of me. He wasn’t slowing me down or anything, but he kept staying right
in front of me and looking back to make sure that I was still there. He had
said something to me in German when he caught up to me, but my German skills
aren’t refined enough to comprehend much while racing. Not to mention, he had
an obvious Swiss accent. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We were getting near the 3K
when I noticed some media people starting to get excited. They were pointing
towards me and towards a sign that was attached to the front of the man’s
bicycle. One of them called to the others, “Schau mal! Die erste Frau!” The
bike made a sharp turn around a corner and I was able to catch a glimpse of the
sign that was attached to the front. Sure enough, typed in big bold letters on
the sign were the words, “10K Lauf 1. Frau.” At last, I was able to put the
clues together. I was “die erste Frau” (the first woman), the bike was pacing
me, and I was leading the women’s 10K. Those women who I had been so
desperately trying to catch for the last 4 kilometers had been half-marathoners
who had started their race about 15 minutes prior to the start of the 10K. I
didn’t need to play catch up anymore, I was already winning!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsCmY7jwSyHUYRfDs_5r3UzMCAyJSWKXSaPQLl-w2buNonq5_Ci1slrQ-TElETDnnUsb0-cCbJy_PZUkNjBzutGbyjcdydeV1d-lb_YFW3p8Pq-aZn848O1JMJ2x3JRplPlztOweL3uSf/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-09-27+at+2.26.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsCmY7jwSyHUYRfDs_5r3UzMCAyJSWKXSaPQLl-w2buNonq5_Ci1slrQ-TElETDnnUsb0-cCbJy_PZUkNjBzutGbyjcdydeV1d-lb_YFW3p8Pq-aZn848O1JMJ2x3JRplPlztOweL3uSf/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-09-27+at+2.26.44+PM.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following my bike pacer (I'm in the blue shirt)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I realized then that it was
time to put another game plan into action. “Maintain the lead, keep up the
pace, and don’t let anyone (man or woman) catch me from behind. Oh, and keep
breathing.” The congestion in my chest was not making it easy to breathe and I
still had more than half the race to go. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I approached the 5K at about
19:45. By now, my biker friend and I had come up with a good system. When the
road would start to get crowded, he would go up a little ways to blaze a trail
though the marathoners and half-marathoners. He also was really good at letting
the media know which one was “die erste Frau.” If there happened to be another
woman nearby when they were about to take a picture, he would always hold up
his hand, point behind him and say, “Da hinten!”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Though I was starting to get
pretty fatigued, the second half of the race was filled with quite a few
highlights. First of all, the scenery was beautiful! What better way to explore
Basel than by foot? We made two crossings over the Rhine River and got to enjoy
a number of picturesque views of the cityscape. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2wbP8AHeXUBhfvLqdiHxZ-xcqqIGJ5bNwBvg_oMSLXgA1hnBoJi_zGCjfWLQFU0hwyXJYSrlGcB11syECqJ_yqM3XHfNxi3VpHY6D5N2wqXrb1BqbSYj755yGpZLnUkrl7VbZCmmAvs-/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-09-27+at+2.26.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP2wbP8AHeXUBhfvLqdiHxZ-xcqqIGJ5bNwBvg_oMSLXgA1hnBoJi_zGCjfWLQFU0hwyXJYSrlGcB11syECqJ_yqM3XHfNxi3VpHY6D5N2wqXrb1BqbSYj755yGpZLnUkrl7VbZCmmAvs-/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-09-27+at+2.26.37+PM.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Racing along the Rhine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The second major highlight
was hearing the cheers from the other BFA teachers who were racing. There is a
part of the course where the road doubles back and you are able to see the runners
who are still coming in the other direction. The cheers of my friends during
this section was exactly the encouragement that I needed to keep going. I even
had the chance to cheer for them as well!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The third highlight was the
encouragement from the local crowd. As I soon discovered, the Swiss do not
cheer with the typical American phrases of “good job” and “keep running.” No,
they yell something much more inspirational than that. For them, the perfect
cheer is the words “hup, hup, hup!” yelled continuously and in great succession.
This lively cheer is then interspersed with an occasional, “Jawohl! Jawohl!” I’m
definitely planning to take this one back with me to the states. In fact, maybe
I’ll try it out on my cross-country runners this weekend. :) </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The rest of the race
finished in a blur of excitement as I rounded the final bend and took the turn
towards the downhill finish line. I had maintained my lead and kept up the
pace. Now all I needed to do was finish strong. To help create some additional
excitement for the audience, my bike pacer decided to tell the man right in
front of me (who I was about to catch mind you) that the first woman was right
on his heels. Of course, this sparked some impressive sprinting on his end and
I wasn’t quite able to catch him. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I crossed the line in
39:55…nowhere near what I could run in college, but not bad for a weekend in
Basel. :) After the race, I attempted to chat with my new racing friends (the
biker and the man who beat me to the finish line). It didn’t take long for them
to realize that they were going to have to use English if they wanted to have a
half decent conversation with me. Luckily, it ended up that they both spoke
English really well and were more than happy to accommodate my lack of language
skills. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After grabbing some
Gatorade, a banana, and a recovery bar, I waited at the finish line to cheer on
the rest of my wonderful BFA teammates. For a number of them, it was their
first time to ever race anything further than a 5K. I was so proud for what
they were able to accomplish! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BfbnVt2nGbkKzyPUi6XI4zm_6u2f97cLuvfwmnoFM4JDBiOYbX4Nkrx-4w5MpXhCmrvrSRBbBr6xQ42gD1C5RPBObY7hI6ihgZZibw-P-Y3k-2So6GZQiBvkc-JmL-fqC1xU-g3wfZwP/s1600/Hanna+and+me+10k.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BfbnVt2nGbkKzyPUi6XI4zm_6u2f97cLuvfwmnoFM4JDBiOYbX4Nkrx-4w5MpXhCmrvrSRBbBr6xQ42gD1C5RPBObY7hI6ihgZZibw-P-Y3k-2So6GZQiBvkc-JmL-fqC1xU-g3wfZwP/s320/Hanna+and+me+10k.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating after the run with my roommate Hanna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After all the runners had crossed
the finish line, a short awards ceremony was held at the center meeting area. I
had the opportunity to walk up on the stage and was announced as “Die erste
Frau—ein Ausländer aus Deutschland!” (foreigner from Germany). Apparently, they
had seen my German address on the race registration and thought that I was
German. I was awarded a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers, a water bottle, a
backpack in the shape of a fish, and a gift certificate for a free appointment
with a specialized Swiss sports doctor (worth 210 Swiss francs!) Although, I have
to admit I am seriously hoping that I never have to use this prize. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALDpkXIZ95eN46BMp0DKq11oX7N9URu-uv1OLCigcW0WG80h903y6c7S1X_EHjWiK7TyAiRV0deRMuNSBOKfzkXImh8jLKejGZEQQaXMjdP5b5JaAKdInZDjtjxQNzNu0IdNIOH9vH4LJ/s1600/Basel+10k.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALDpkXIZ95eN46BMp0DKq11oX7N9URu-uv1OLCigcW0WG80h903y6c7S1X_EHjWiK7TyAiRV0deRMuNSBOKfzkXImh8jLKejGZEQQaXMjdP5b5JaAKdInZDjtjxQNzNu0IdNIOH9vH4LJ/s320/Basel+10k.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the award's stand</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Overall, it was a wonderful
weekend! To me, this race was a stunning reminder of God’s faithfulness. How
thankful I am that God would allow me the opportunity to continue doing
something that I love so much even in the midst of serving Him in Germany. I
thank Him for the talents that He has given me and the opportunity to use these
talents to meet new people, build relationships, and glorify Him. Please keep
praying for me as I press on to win the prize here in Germany. No, in this
case, not the runner’s prize. (Although you probably know that I like winning
those as well…) But what I am really referring to is the heavenly prize—the goal
of giving my life to serve Christ by teaching, serving, and loving the students
here at this school. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-51874066267524126392013-09-23T14:09:00.000-07:002013-09-23T14:09:36.860-07:00A Day in the Life of Miss Lewis
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At approximately 8:05 each
morning, I step across the threshold of the Garni House and into the wide German
world outside my doorstep. My red drawstring bag is in my hand, packed with my
cross-country shoes and running clothes. I carefully load the bag into the front
basket of my German bicycle, roll the bike out of our garage, and prepare to
make my descent down the hill and into “downtown” Kandern. My WVU backpack is strapped
to my shoulders and securely packed with textbooks, computer, lunchbox, and
anything else I might need for the school day (such as a shopping bag for
picking up groceries later at Hieber or an umbrella for the inevitable German
rain showers.) On most days, I also have two of my roommates—Johanna and Hanna,
the other bicycle riding Garni Girls—at my side and ready to make the great
morning commute to BFA.
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I arrive on campus between
8:15 and 8:20 each morning (a little bit earlier on the days when we have staff
devotions.) Since I teach a first period class, I like to have a little extra
prep time before the students arrive. After dropping off my teaching materials
and coaching clothes at my office, (yes, I have my own little desk space in the
community faculty room!) I run my lunchbox up to the third floor staff kitchen
and then proceed to prep the lessons for the day. This might include making
photocopies, setting up the projector, organizing materials, entering grades,
or just getting the computers turned and warmed up before the start of class. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Students begin to arrive on
campus about 8:30 and continue to trickle in all the way up until 8:45 (or
later!) when the first warning bell rings. If it’s a Monday, the students file
into the BFA auditorium for a short beginning-of-the-week assembly called
Matins. This usually includes announcements for the week as well as a short
devotional. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Matins runs from 8:50-9:00
and then it’s off to first period. The other days of the week (with the
exception of Friday chapel) students report directly to first period for a
10min opening class devotional and prayer time. By 9am, the devos have ended
and the regular class schedule is in full swing. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The first class of my
morning is Beginner Journalism. We meet on the very top floor of the Janz
building in a tiny classroom called JB 32. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FD21esC_g8j8f50TRN4WicHtrfZtrgBOyRGaCasqzdbHOx7WW7RS7pqQyKmgjwnGhHicUFET7-rHQvDE0k_UV_cGoin0y8bplOknQbmd1Zv3V6tAtiENjGigg-uJ7hyphenhyphenyd0nVwyDTTGqh/s1600/IMGP0500.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FD21esC_g8j8f50TRN4WicHtrfZtrgBOyRGaCasqzdbHOx7WW7RS7pqQyKmgjwnGhHicUFET7-rHQvDE0k_UV_cGoin0y8bplOknQbmd1Zv3V6tAtiENjGigg-uJ7hyphenhyphenyd0nVwyDTTGqh/s320/IMGP0500.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Though it may seem
small, it works out just fine for my very small class sizes. To me, the low
wooden ceiling and large rectangular table in the middle of the room has a nice,
homey feel. I like being able to discuss poetry and story ideas seated at this
table with my students. I feel that it helps to create a classroom atmosphere
of safety and trust. (However, I will admit that my room is not without it’s
flaws…it has been mistaken for a closet on a number of occasions.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With a school of over 300
students, perhaps you are wondering how I ended up with classes that are so
small. If you have any experience in today’s high school culture, you will soon
discover that the English electives are usually not the most popular of classes. Here is the usual response that I receive when I ask a
student if they would ever consider signing up for a creative writing class:
“Why would I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">choose</i> to take a class
where I actually have to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">write</i>?”
Interestingly enough, I receive a similar response when I ask a kid why they
won’t sign up for cross-country...“Why would I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">choose</i> to play a sport where I actually have to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">run</i>?”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I suppose that I never
before realized the similarities between writing and running…both can be (and
usually are) extremely taxing and time consuming, but both when the right
amount of time and effort are invested, can produce the most amazing results. I
guess I just love to see the result of hard work. I love to see young people
enjoying the journey, learning to push themselves to the limit, and learning to
always work to the best of their abilities. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sorry, I realize that I am
off on a major tangent. Back to my schedule. My next class after 1st period
Jouranlism is 3rd period Study Hall. What do I love about teaching study hall
at an international Christian boarding school? <u>The students actually study!</u>
So far, my biggest issue in this class was when a student forgot to sign in
with me because she was so eager to go to the library to get all of her homework
done. (Seriously, this happened.) Study Hall is also a good time for students
to meet with teachers individually, take private music lessons, or meet with
the counselor. Seniors have the privilege of signing out of study hall to go to
the student center, outside to a picnic table, to the grocery store, or to
downtown Kandern. As long as they are back in time for their next class, BFA
has an open campus. (Something that I always wish that I had in high school!)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After 3rd period, I have a
prep period and then lunch. I typically like to take my lunch with some of the
other teachers outside, but since it’s been so rainy and cold lately, I have
been eating in the upstairs kitchen. There is always some sort of lively
conversation going on in there…which usually involves a discussion of each
other’s intriguing dinner left-overs and the ever popular question: "where did
you find __[insert random food]__in Germany?" </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Directly after lunch is one
of my favorite classes of the day: Creative Writing Poetry! I have had so much
fun planning lessons for these young writers. They are all so eager and
enthusiastic…not to mention talented. I often feel like I am teaching college
freshman or sophomores, not juniors and seniors in high school. Next semester,
I will have Creative Writing Prose added to my schedule, which I am also looking forward to teaching. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Creative Writing is my last official class of the day. The other two periods are dedicated to prep time
and “office hours.” School ends at 3:50 and at 4:00, cross-country practice
begins!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I will write more about cross-country
as soon as I can find some more blogging time. We had our first meet this past
Saturday, so I have lots to tell you. :) Along with the BFA cross-country team,
I also had the chance to race this past weekend. On Sunday, I went to
Switzerland with about 12 other BFA teachers to run in the Basel 10K. Such an
exciting experience! Full update to come soon!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-38545093057513309972013-09-07T10:19:00.001-07:002013-09-07T13:13:15.980-07:00First Week of School<style>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Week one of classes has come
to a close here at the Black Forest Academy and the first-year teachers are wondering just how they managed to
survive it all. :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I realize
that it’s been a while since my last blog update, but, as you can probably imagine,
my life has become a little more busy now that classes are in session, cross
country is up and running, and the school year is in full swing. Therefore, I’ll
do my best to update you on some of the bigger highlights of the week. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjekiWnxgnyDdEvZEQN34R64IZRUhOfVWZNZG9RrwX3-lajcNR8ZjeVNht1wQtgCQZR8XbhYWviBCOpafSpJdkSeikq-4a9DMeR3L_dMw7Xli1P-kls3ZRz7J7IIuAOyT_vPNokBp4VzaQG/s1600/First+Day+of+School.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjekiWnxgnyDdEvZEQN34R64IZRUhOfVWZNZG9RrwX3-lajcNR8ZjeVNht1wQtgCQZR8XbhYWviBCOpafSpJdkSeikq-4a9DMeR3L_dMw7Xli1P-kls3ZRz7J7IIuAOyT_vPNokBp4VzaQG/s320/First+Day+of+School.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garni Girls on the first day of school!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Monday evening
was the official start of the semester and what BFA likes to call
“Parent-Teacher Fellowship Night.” During this time, the parents of the BFA
students have the opportunity to meet the teachers (hey, wait a minute, that’s
me!) and preview the campus. For the evening’s agenda, each parent was given a
copy of their student’s schedule and 7 minutes to visit each classroom. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It was fun
to see parents bustling back and forth across the campus, wondering how in the
world their child will be able to get from the 4th floor of the main
building all the way to the 3rd floor of the Janz Building all in
less than 5 minutes! One of the things that impressed me the most about this
evening was the opportunity to see so many world missionaries gathered together
in one location. How inspiring to be surrounded by men and women who have given
their lives to serve God and are willing to step out in faith and entrust the
care of their children to the faculty and staff here at BFA. It is a decision
that is definitely not easy, but one that will hopefully open so many new
opportunities for their children to grow both in faith and in education. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tuesday brought
tidings of the Opening Ceremonies as well as the first day of school. A
time-honored tradition at the Black Forest Academy, the Opening Ceremonies
begins with a flag carrying procession in which every member of the senior
class carries a national flag into the BFA auditorium. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicrMLLYD5Tr8rewG761-OL_6CbXl9aUtD9dwM5nl_1DiD2uzNieRbKxg-jY_OjrXvVNGkf2y14yq7cX6FMMIxzvJB0bxIz8slNGT2nBwefiu7nkQK2tzUbjpiLNdDbYaobk8SFC7Y5PxR/s1600/Flags_lineup_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicrMLLYD5Tr8rewG761-OL_6CbXl9aUtD9dwM5nl_1DiD2uzNieRbKxg-jY_OjrXvVNGkf2y14yq7cX6FMMIxzvJB0bxIz8slNGT2nBwefiu7nkQK2tzUbjpiLNdDbYaobk8SFC7Y5PxR/s320/Flags_lineup_0011.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flag Carrying Procession</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Since most of the
students at the school are <a href="http://amongthealps.blogspot.de/2013/06/third-culture-kids.html" target="_blank">TCKs</a>, it is not uncommon for them to feel as
if they come from several different countries. Therefore, it is often difficult
for them to settle upon exactly which flag they want to carry. Students might
choose to carry the flag of their passport country, the flag of the land where
they spent the majority of their childhood, or perhaps even the flag of the
country where their parents are currently serving. It is truly the diversity of
this procession that makes it so spectacular. Who would ever believe that in
the tiny town of Kandern, in the corner of Southern Germany, so many nations
would be represented?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Along with
the start of school, Tuesday also brought the start of cross-country! Though
the team is small (4 boys and 5 girls), I am honored to be able to coach such a
fine group of young people. We began Tuesday’s practice with a warm-up jog to
the park behind the tennis courts. After a few minutes for drills and
stretching, we headed out to Sitzenkirch on a trail affectionately known as the
“Llama Run.” And yes, since I know you are going to ask, we actually do pass real
llamas! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScSS0rSDxaU6_ZC3EMZubzI56ulGUFYZMc-e5C4D0x94tHOCj_yEfkmkpO-et7m-2Tlr7XTUu1tYBb5IAEvH9buir-ZPohI-3Fo1BKF03Tigz1DwDp1Yoes7Qe03JIMexVGQWlmzuRJBG/s1600/llama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScSS0rSDxaU6_ZC3EMZubzI56ulGUFYZMc-e5C4D0x94tHOCj_yEfkmkpO-et7m-2Tlr7XTUu1tYBb5IAEvH9buir-ZPohI-3Fo1BKF03Tigz1DwDp1Yoes7Qe03JIMexVGQWlmzuRJBG/s320/llama.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I have
quickly learned from my first week of coaching and running with the team, there
is a variety of trails known only to the elite few who have even donned the BFA
cross-country jersey. Each of these trails includes a creative name, so here’s
a sampling of the names that I know…. there’s Monsoon (including both an easy
version, “Mini-Monsoon,” as well as a more advanced version, “Big Monsoon”), <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fox Trot (haven’t run this one yet, so I’ll
describe it for you later), the 5k race course (which just so happens to
include a hill called “The Widowmaker”), Sausenburg Castle (almost entirely
uphill!), and Sitzenkirch (aka the Llama Run). So far, I have greatly enjoyed
my time with the team, which has consisted mainly of running up mountains, demonstrating
form drills, encouraging the newcomers, and running up and down the forest
trails looking for the boy’s team! (When do boys ever learn to follow
directions?!?) </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Friday was
Chapel Day at BFA. This weekly service includes a Praise and Worship Band which
is entirely student-led. So cool! There was also an encouraging message from
the campus chaplain as well as an introduction to this year’s theme, which is
“Seek Truth.” At the end of the day on Friday evening, I went with my roommates
to the Italienisch Eis-Café to celebrate the successful completion of the first
week of school. With two scoops of stracitella in my waffle cone, a group of
friends all around me, and the beautiful stars in the German sky, I couldn’t
help but thank God for this amazing opportunity to live and serve in such a place.
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-67730378868831179962013-08-24T12:19:00.000-07:002013-09-06T06:24:17.029-07:00The Black Forest Dorms<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So what does it look
like to attend boarding school in Germany? Read along for a glimpse into the BFA
boarding program… </span></div>
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{page:WordS</style><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Along with attending
classes, dorm life is an integral part of the BFA student experience. Of the
250 high schoolers who attend the school, about 60% are dorm students. There
are eight high school dorms at BFA—each one different from the next. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On Thursday night, the new
staff had the opportunity to take a grand tour of all the BFA high school dorms. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Since
Kandern is such a small community, most of these dorms are spread throughout
the neighboring German villages. </span>Piling
into two BFA vans, we prepared to depart on a 3 hour adventure of visiting
dorms and meeting the 2013-14 Res Life staff. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_BrfrNNoG0Tv2IDnNiUO49LdjQADyV3fJKzc_C83cmK5VWFMEHBpT3mGbEWe7lvVdan2msJ6OCgizsSwws-dL1ILw1ok5N9Bclm79yIt2WDDmaTEa7-XEIKH9Vuvgxem0sDNxAqMmkivW/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-24+at+8.45.52+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_BrfrNNoG0Tv2IDnNiUO49LdjQADyV3fJKzc_C83cmK5VWFMEHBpT3mGbEWe7lvVdan2msJ6OCgizsSwws-dL1ILw1ok5N9Bclm79yIt2WDDmaTEa7-XEIKH9Vuvgxem0sDNxAqMmkivW/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-08-24+at+8.45.52+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palmgarten</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGk5uXmx72IGQCyA-rmTCnkIREN50QDdBAKhBSd7-qfYf9J2YbBC5F47RI6TFVbFbnEa2OXKnw1ZzCS6yBz0d1_8y5PVVVjQOAa5Z2CXWBzI9yoJ2d8g94S_Dvf3dt-aBBSaI6m1vsGyZG/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-24+at+8.46.07+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGk5uXmx72IGQCyA-rmTCnkIREN50QDdBAKhBSd7-qfYf9J2YbBC5F47RI6TFVbFbnEa2OXKnw1ZzCS6yBz0d1_8y5PVVVjQOAa5Z2CXWBzI9yoJ2d8g94S_Dvf3dt-aBBSaI6m1vsGyZG/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-24+at+8.46.07+PM.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maugenhard</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Our journey began with a
stop at Palmgarten and Maugenhard. These two dorms are the only ones located
right in the center of Kandern. Because of their close proximity to the main
campus, students at Palm and Maug have the luxury of walking to school when the
weather is nice. Palm was originally built as a hotel (much like our
ever-beloved Garni), but now accommodates between 20-22 girls. Above Palm, is
the newest of the BFA dorms, Maugenhard. It too, is fairly large, housing
between 20-24 boys. My favorite feature of these dorms would have to be the
enormous kitchen in Maug and the stairway to nowhere in Palm. I guess if you’re
feeding 24 high school boys, you had better have a huge kitchen! As for the
stairway to nowhere, I suppose it just makes Palm even more unique. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC3k_x3sYzphl7_urBk0Ns_zpUI_6UKZU_pNkKE0tSh_HTeMucKqAwqOSbub1scBi-tl5dPX7oaPkNRUZdkSG9IHOHqqVDsVKp3lf2x2anFedWCjQ-bQPxmXBzghvIX8e08GYKu5SCEt9r/s1600/Liel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC3k_x3sYzphl7_urBk0Ns_zpUI_6UKZU_pNkKE0tSh_HTeMucKqAwqOSbub1scBi-tl5dPX7oaPkNRUZdkSG9IHOHqqVDsVKp3lf2x2anFedWCjQ-bQPxmXBzghvIX8e08GYKu5SCEt9r/s320/Liel.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out Liel's green fireplace to the left!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After Palm and Maug, we took
a 10 minute drive to the village of Liel. One of the oldest buildings in the
BFA dorm collection, Landhaus Liel (known simply as Liel) was built around the
year 1760. No big deal or anything, but that’s 16 years older than the entire United
States of America! As a result of Liel’s impressive age, the floor has started
to sag a little bit, which means that BFA will have to find a replacement
building in the next year or so. My favorite feature in the girl’s dorm of Liel
would have to be the lovely green fireplace…which doesn’t actually work
anymore, but is still a really cool visual piece.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgwaz1bz2zXaPsT5s8ZFe8zHJBQfU-DwI0NxMSqZzi6pXVfCHb8Hu2Avn1QV7R4rk1U5m_c6P17hTsG4anUdNTtNuZQoY08CPsgDLH8laxJ4XZrlhnexT85xsFg4Avlc0icgGLSzThg3ZT/s1600/Storch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgwaz1bz2zXaPsT5s8ZFe8zHJBQfU-DwI0NxMSqZzi6pXVfCHb8Hu2Avn1QV7R4rk1U5m_c6P17hTsG4anUdNTtNuZQoY08CPsgDLH8laxJ4XZrlhnexT85xsFg4Avlc0icgGLSzThg3ZT/s200/Storch.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, that's a real stork!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After Liel we proceeded to Storchenblick,
known for short as Storch. Originally a village school, this girl’s dorm got its
name due to the beautiful view of nesting storks that can be seen on a
neighboring church tower. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This dorm was one of my favorites—very
artistic with a warm and home-like feel.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjLrzzH_5K1VgwtHB0iGRsZb51nWaNW1kn5IvH7FowBAA3JVzid230YdQZF1NJnHMRpxuok0PHYkLX2PesSrm-zKxRkNEgnPRhxAIlrIk7rc7hkGuMPYSDNGNeH0vmq7HUVsqbGzRjBTo/s1600/Storch+Dining.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjLrzzH_5K1VgwtHB0iGRsZb51nWaNW1kn5IvH7FowBAA3JVzid230YdQZF1NJnHMRpxuok0PHYkLX2PesSrm-zKxRkNEgnPRhxAIlrIk7rc7hkGuMPYSDNGNeH0vmq7HUVsqbGzRjBTo/s320/Storch+Dining.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Storch Dining Room</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OkJD1TQ7qxEdTK66GGZ_QtJyH8QB1QlSLa3DXXZmghK60uh0eiJyoxt-WEabVHzHqfEAiPAMmcpq00oehcjMztOnx8h3Ek9AprzlrpXccM4gT9Yv_2VVae-8qlKfXWO38cUJAfgJXXhX/s1600/HBR+arch2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OkJD1TQ7qxEdTK66GGZ_QtJyH8QB1QlSLa3DXXZmghK60uh0eiJyoxt-WEabVHzHqfEAiPAMmcpq00oehcjMztOnx8h3Ek9AprzlrpXccM4gT9Yv_2VVae-8qlKfXWO38cUJAfgJXXhX/s320/HBR+arch2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Archway into HBR</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Haus Bad Riedlingen was the
next dorm on our tour. Known commonly as HBR, the 20 boys that live in this
dorm often joke that “bad” is their middle name. Built around 1750, this dorm
is even older than Liel! The original building had a mineral spring bath. One of my favorite features of the dorm was the large painted sign that hung over the front entrance.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxoZFb8vlCPPink9QVAHfThBCWc8-kMiEuSeTbDc6ow6WzWvZeRtGi8uq8GS7Z7n0yIPG_XyuAT8E4oWowX3AaXsUaQokg2NIKHJXkhjlCjyQ3GBZT8mVvi9zvGRbxjssR8-Jb23DQlsQ/s1600/Dorm+room.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxoZFb8vlCPPink9QVAHfThBCWc8-kMiEuSeTbDc6ow6WzWvZeRtGi8uq8GS7Z7n0yIPG_XyuAT8E4oWowX3AaXsUaQokg2NIKHJXkhjlCjyQ3GBZT8mVvi9zvGRbxjssR8-Jb23DQlsQ/s200/Dorm+room.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And...another dorm room! (boy's)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44G0dYLVxBJLkDqpe8R67qeCv8mGDwnRKlANs-ZC14niuRsupWbWc0L_cfN7y7o-2HdPYlv_5NOOMZEbbDefv1bVtdZiI0xn4VZ2p5ZSoSCaqeIIydPP0sQlIFQ39szI8KR4FtK-duvMh/s1600/Dorm2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44G0dYLVxBJLkDqpe8R67qeCv8mGDwnRKlANs-ZC14niuRsupWbWc0L_cfN7y7o-2HdPYlv_5NOOMZEbbDefv1bVtdZiI0xn4VZ2p5ZSoSCaqeIIydPP0sQlIFQ39szI8KR4FtK-duvMh/s200/Dorm2.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside a typical dorm room (girl's)</td></tr>
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</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Wittlingen (pronounced with
a “v” sound) was originally built as a combination inn, country store, and gas
station. I would say that it has the most confusing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and exciting</i> layout of all the dorms we visited. Secret rooms in
the north tower, fire escapes to the roof, hidden basements, and a lovely
backyard were all a part of the Wittlingen experience. Witt accommodates between
18-20 girls. One of my roommates, Julie, used to live at Witt when she was a
high school student at BFA!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside of Wittlingen</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The final two dorms on the
tour were located about 10 kilometers away from Kandern in the beautiful
hillside village of Marzell. These dorms included Blauen, a girls dorm with
lovely blue shutters, and Sonnenhof, a boys dorm with a castle-like appeal. Although
these dorms are the farthest from Kandern, they were definitely two of my
favorites! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDgHwPu7thsCdhqR93xWJHtc__suX9ysnfNkdaBsIkqvTWZFN-qrcXGzzVVSn8UHfySvKHTUU3dKgNSI2ukGOc1DmUofM6t7Qr1QwcCeQ46VolviytOQc6jhEhA68Qq6M_Znt76VXHl39_/s1600/Dorms+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDgHwPu7thsCdhqR93xWJHtc__suX9ysnfNkdaBsIkqvTWZFN-qrcXGzzVVSn8UHfySvKHTUU3dKgNSI2ukGOc1DmUofM6t7Qr1QwcCeQ46VolviytOQc6jhEhA68Qq6M_Znt76VXHl39_/s1600/Dorms+2.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sonne</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75jizQqjPTW8JoRdVPmwJuN6K-UxC5ke3L8l33WYCIlNK2QksXX7PRss_9UMGXx1rUg9C-A2PWZDb3ghBU63jY3DEUdkY_YJSMQ34723AUM5I69vXdtgxh-8L_9JiGa8W4WqUEDxWsg6-/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-24+at+9.00.23+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75jizQqjPTW8JoRdVPmwJuN6K-UxC5ke3L8l33WYCIlNK2QksXX7PRss_9UMGXx1rUg9C-A2PWZDb3ghBU63jY3DEUdkY_YJSMQ34723AUM5I69vXdtgxh-8L_9JiGa8W4WqUEDxWsg6-/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-08-24+at+9.00.23+PM.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blauen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49WoUGApeCKQZiDxkaMKvJ7Gti_BTFLkfiYJZShEGEo6YXw-IEee1UwDs33NrCI5VpGXLfyGwBDcI7WBTFNJT0goQaXxUdBkaJL2cbAY4SWolFJDMo0d1L3mpRs_7pLG7f2mfv7tnkAyn/s1600/Knight.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49WoUGApeCKQZiDxkaMKvJ7Gti_BTFLkfiYJZShEGEo6YXw-IEee1UwDs33NrCI5VpGXLfyGwBDcI7WBTFNJT0goQaXxUdBkaJL2cbAY4SWolFJDMo0d1L3mpRs_7pLG7f2mfv7tnkAyn/s320/Knight.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painting on the wall of Sonne</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Seeing the dorms of BFA
helped to give me a better understanding of campus life here in Kandern. It was
a glance into the lives of the students and a chance to imagine what it must be
like to live and study as a high schooler away from home. While it must be extremely
difficult to live away from one’s family, it was encouraging to see the way
that BFA strives to create such a loving home away from home for MKs from all
over the world.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></div>
Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-23019196455651723772013-08-21T13:59:00.000-07:002013-08-21T13:59:07.383-07:00To Infinity and Beyond!
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For those of you who were
particularly interested in my post entitled, <a href="http://amongthealps.blogspot.com/2013/08/my-run-to-sun.html" target="_blank"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My Run to the Sun</span></span></a>,
I have some exciting news! I have successfully completed the quest to locate
all nine planets! In addition, I was even able to find Ceres, which is largest
asteroid and the only dwarf planet in the inner Solar System. </span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The first stage of my
mission was accomplished last weekend. While my roommates were still nestled
all snug in their beds, I rose early Saturday morning to follow the illusive
trail to Pluto. I decided that the best plan would be to work my way back to
the last planet that we had discovered: Neptune. Sure enough, when I reached
the model of Neptune, I found a small picture of a planet and a tiny arrow pointing
back towards Kandern. Above the arrow was the word, “Planetweg.” I also noticed
a short footnote at the bottom of the sign, “1400m zum Pluto.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With these two bits of
information to guide me, I turned back down the trail and started to head in
the direction of downtown Kandern. It seemed strange to me at first <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to be heading right into the city. After all,
shouldn’t the planets be hidden in the woods and not in the middle of a city
street? My fears soon faded when I noticed the start sign for another hiking
trail. Since the Planetweg was obviously built as an attraction for hiking
trails, I was convinced that this must be the way to find Pluto. Completely
ignoring the previous information that Pluto was only 1400m from Neptune, I
headed pell-mell up the mountain and into the new world of the red diamond
hiking trails. (Most of the trails that I had been following before had been
yellow diamond trails.) </span></div>
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</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You can probably guess that
my hasty actions did not serve me well. I scoured those mountain trails for
nearly an hour, completely determined that I would not give up until I had
found the little planet. Finally, hot, tired, and a little grumpy, I decided it
was time to head home. I would have to look again tomorrow. Besides, how was I
to know if some crazed anti-Pluto activist hadn’t removed the planet years ago?
Perhaps all my searching had been in vain…</span></div>
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</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Feeling much less
enthusiastic than I did on the way there, I ran dejectedly down the main street
and back towards our home at the top of the hill. Just as I was crossing by the
bridge near Rachel and Amy’s house, I noticed a man reading a city map that was
posted off to the side of the main street. Taking a closer look, I realized that
right beside this map of the city was none other than the model of Pluto! It
had been right there on the main street all along and I had just kept on
running blindly past. You can probably imagine my elation when I realized that
I would not have to return home without accomplishing my task. The littlest
planet had been found and it was much closer to home than I had ever guessed it
would be!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My planet quest was
officially completed on Sunday. Before church, I spent my morning time with God
by running from Pluto, to Neptune, to Uranus, to Saturn, to Jupiter, (to Ceres,)
to Mars, to Earth, to Venus, to Mercury, to the Sun and back again all within 70
minutes. Talk about a great reminder of God’s amazing creation!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBo4L1HkU2mVq9bNGC7vVLoX4dPm0ib_du4vuDW4QXy3LittGohiJSgYIsHFTaRWd5p98967cZDK5IdBCPEUhM-gO5b3laeqHMarGwUEBnMWn0r1kjcVEyaOQewrprkGThb4y-FvsJSWtO/s1600/Saturn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBo4L1HkU2mVq9bNGC7vVLoX4dPm0ib_du4vuDW4QXy3LittGohiJSgYIsHFTaRWd5p98967cZDK5IdBCPEUhM-gO5b3laeqHMarGwUEBnMWn0r1kjcVEyaOQewrprkGThb4y-FvsJSWtO/s320/Saturn.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My favorite planet, Saturn!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-13774955746218194372013-08-17T09:10:00.001-07:002013-08-18T06:51:12.465-07:00Einkaufen Gehen<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One of the biggest
adjustments to living in Kandern has been learning to adapt to a new style of
grocery shopping. Besides the obvious struggles of reading German food labels
and converting dollars into Euros, there are so many other little differences to
be considered. Let me share with you a few of my lessons learned…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Playing Field:</b></u> There are two main grocery stores in Kandern: Penny and Hieber. Penny
is more of a discount grocery store (similar to Aldi in the States). However,
unlike Aldi, Penny offers a random assortment of special sale items each week.
These can be anything from “Hello Kitty” pajamas, to chain saws, to cheese
graters. Hieber, on the other hand, has a much bigger food selection and a wider
variety of international brands and products. Yet, with this variety also comes
higher prices! </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Weigh those Veggies:</b></u> At Heiber, you have to weigh your fruit and vegetables
before you check out. This can be confusing since we usually weigh produce at
the check out counter in the US. If you forget to weigh your veggies, the sales
clerk has to get up from their seat at the cash register, go all the way back
to the produce area, and weigh your produce for you! As can be imagined, this
can get a little embarrassing if you end up holding up an entire line of
time-conscious German shoppers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Decisions, Decisions:</b></u> Many of the German grocery stores (Penny more so
than Hieber), don’t offer the product selection that we see in the US. If
shopping at Penny, you probably won’t see fourty-five different types cereal,
eight brands of ketchup, and fifteen different kinds of milk. Instead, there
are usually two or three reasonable options. While this might sound limiting,
it does make shopping a lot easier!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On the flip side, if you are
shopping at Hieber, you may find an overwhelming selection of products that you
would never suspect to see in the US. For example, there is an entire aisle
devoted to jam. Though I don’t have an official count, I am guessing that Hieber
offers well over forty different jam varieties. Hieber is also crazy about
their müsli selection—raisins, sunflower seeds, chocolate, dried fruit,
almonds, crunchy, chewy, healthy, organic, for kids, flax, millet, and the list
is never ending! But, to the German’s credit, the Müsli here is really good! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Going Green:</b></u>
Don’t come to the grocery store without your own bag! In Kandern, people
typically use reusable canvas shopping bags. You could request plastic at the
checkout line, but you would have to pay an extra 5 cents per bag…not to mention
a few glares for your wasteful ways. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-2ux4FXkB9TzMhKD0T09RLnlywQ9iNtG2u95MXgvQNRtkPVrxhStiSDeWl-XDU-PAYtgTGfoMSzpk1OzqS7tygJPxddK1dXNElT3TgTYH5-_svxbb1ucaWgjABVuXwKQS8NaE1dvp9AL/s1600/IMGP0397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-2ux4FXkB9TzMhKD0T09RLnlywQ9iNtG2u95MXgvQNRtkPVrxhStiSDeWl-XDU-PAYtgTGfoMSzpk1OzqS7tygJPxddK1dXNElT3TgTYH5-_svxbb1ucaWgjABVuXwKQS8NaE1dvp9AL/s320/IMGP0397.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Who says we need a canvas bag? We have a laundry basket!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Less is More</b>:</u>
In Europe, you typically don’t buy as many groceries as you do in the States.
The reason is very simple, you just don’t have the room! The refrigerators here
are much smaller, especially when you are sharing with seven other girls!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZ6fuutvq2BJbuKbRYp4VE3nu6eG4hV_3FrLFGDWXtZLThj-Np7vrdyHZuRlz_72svpCQmMwuoc05fDj9QRdGlOWRjfir8lDj8Xj71ulaeoHL1HOD3d-qwDaaWKfp5sDs_6C3DAzXPySd/s1600/IMGP0402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZ6fuutvq2BJbuKbRYp4VE3nu6eG4hV_3FrLFGDWXtZLThj-Np7vrdyHZuRlz_72svpCQmMwuoc05fDj9QRdGlOWRjfir8lDj8Xj71ulaeoHL1HOD3d-qwDaaWKfp5sDs_6C3DAzXPySd/s320/IMGP0402.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Our German "mini-fridge"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Eat Fresh:</b></u>
It seems that food here goes bad a little faster than it does in America. There
is much less use of pre-packaged/boxed food and preservatives. (yay!) So, be
sure to eat your food quickly, otherwise, watch out for mold!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Scrambled Eggs:</b></u> Looking for eggs? Don’t check the refrigerator aisle. German eggs are
always left out on the shelf. At Hieber, you also have the option of
individually selecting the eggs that you would like to purchase. You simply
load your own carton right there in the store! You can also buy hard-boiled
colored eggs at any time during the year, not just Easter!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><u><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Bäckerei:</b></u>
Heiber and Penny both have a great selection of fresh breads. Most German
breads are crusty, grainy, and brown—just the kind that I like! They also have
some yummy soft pretzels for only 70 cents. I have enjoyed getting to practice
my German skills with the bakery staff at Hieber (and Heitzmann, another local bakery), “Ich möchte zwei vollkorn
brötchen, bitte!”</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJxsMOGp9ozOWt1deNwHaZpAg_oOeCLIt9N34NKGy3anuwmcygfZXwDYKaitLHF4r6IUfl3kTE8dxCtmgDysoucFqJ46mQ3VbmBKUaxU-jNbZxQLfuMSvQTGixmVGEcJatFurder8kfe_/s1600/Heizman+Backerei.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJxsMOGp9ozOWt1deNwHaZpAg_oOeCLIt9N34NKGy3anuwmcygfZXwDYKaitLHF4r6IUfl3kTE8dxCtmgDysoucFqJ46mQ3VbmBKUaxU-jNbZxQLfuMSvQTGixmVGEcJatFurder8kfe_/s320/Heizman+Backerei.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So this isn't actually the Heizmann in Kandern..but the inside looks similar!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-1444983056757209572013-08-16T13:00:00.000-07:002013-08-16T13:08:01.733-07:00My Run to the Sun<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While this is probably going
to sound a little crazy, I ran to the sun yesterday. Before I expound upon this
further, let me first preface this story by saying that my morning running
excursions have become so much more enjoyable now that Jesse and Sam have moved
into town. Jesse and Sam are two new BFA staff members who have come all the
way from Oklahoma to work with the support staff at the school. They live on
the top floor of an apartment just three houses down from the Garni House. And
the best news, Jesse just happens to be a runner! It is such a blessing to have
a friend waiting for me outside at 6:30 every morning so that we can run up the
German mountains together before language class! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, my story begins on one
of those such mornings. Jesse was waiting for me outside the Garni in her gray
pullover and green running gloves. Mornings have been pretty chilly here in
Kandern. I suppose you could say that August in Kandern is similar to October
in West Virginia—cool during the mornings/evenings and hot during the day. Anyway,
I come out of the Garni to meet her and we decide to run up Sauweg and towards
Rainweg. Since I arrived about a week earlier than Jesse, I have the advantage
of already knowing a lot of the trails. As usual, the run on Rainweg was
lovely! We could even watch the sun rising over the crest of the mountains.
After about 3 miles, Jesse decided to head back towards home since she is still
getting back in shape and adjusting to the hilly German trails. (I think I have
a bit of an advantage since West Virginia is good deal more hilly than Oklahoma!)
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, I continued on the
trail another mile and a half through a long patch of wooded area and then some
rolling hills and an open field. At the bottom of the one of the hills, I
encountered a very peculiar sight for the middle of the forest. There was a
huge silver orb on a pole in the middle of the field. Just in front of the orb
was an informational plaque which was labeled “die Sonne.” This title was
followed by a paragraph of scientific facts about the Sun and the surrounding
universe. As I continued down the trail, I soon found Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars. It
seemed that all were built to scale according to the circumference and location
of the model sun. Therefore, Earth was about the size of a marble and was
suspended above a plaque approximately 150 meters away from the giant silver
sun. Below each model planet was scientific description and an accompanying
picture.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now if you know anything about me, you can
probably guess that the first thing I wanted to do was to discover the location
of all nine planets. But, regretfully, I was already over a half mile past my
allotted running “turn-around” point. Which basically meant that if I wanted to
make it to language class on time, I would have to turn around as soon as
possible. So, I sadly waved good-bye to the solar system in the woods and
traveled back up Rainweg to home. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But, the story doesn’t end
there! The same afternoon that I discovered the Sun, a few of my roommates
decided to go hiking in the mountains. Near the bottom of Sauweg, on a path
that I have run nearly every morning since arriving in Kandern, they discovered
Neptune! To think, I had run past it all those times and never noticed it
before. The craziest part is that the model of Neptune is a good four miles away
from where I found the Sun! It seems to me that our solar system is way more
vast than I have ever previously imagined! So now, I have a new running
mission: to discover all nine planets before the start of school. Saturday’s
goal: Pluto hunting! :)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-67556870272595659802013-08-16T08:43:00.000-07:002013-08-16T08:44:51.407-07:00Sonntag im Deutschland<style>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Psalm 117 - </span></i><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Praise the </span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-variant: small-caps; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lord</span></i></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, all you nations;</span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="line" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">extol
him, all you peoples.</span><br />
<span class="text"><sup><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></sup>For great is
his love toward us,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text">and
the faithfulness of the </span><span class="small-caps"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><span class="text"> endures forever.</span></span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="line" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Praise the </span></i></span><span class="small-caps"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-variant: small-caps; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lord.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If you ever have the chance
to attend a church service that is conducted entirely in another language, I
urge you to take advantage of the opportunity. It is something truly amazing to
hear those around you singing praises to God in a tongue that is different from
your own. To me, it’s like a little picture of heaven with every tongue and
tribe praising God in their native voice. Though it might seem strange to us at
first, it is important to remember that God speaks German (not to mention
Italian, French, Spanish, Chinese, Portuguese, Hindi, Swahili, and any other
language) just as well as he speaks English! (Though I suppose a person could
argue that He speaks Hebrew the best, but we won’t go there in this blog post…)
My main point is that God is the God of all nations! I feel so blessed to be
able to serve him in Germany!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Last Sunday, I attended a
German church in the neighboring village of Haagen with three other BFA
teachers. Even though there is an English speaking church right in Kandern, I wanted
my first experience of church in Germany to be at an actual German church. Similar
to in America, churches in Germany are entirely different depending upon the
denomination, worship style, pastor, and all those other factors that make a
church unique. The church that we attended was called “Gemeinde Der Offenen
Tür,” which basically means “church of the open door.” True to it’s name, it
was a very welcoming environment with lots of friendly greeters…not to mention a
coffee/cookie bar. ;) The worship style was energetic and modern—similar to
many newer American churches. It was fun getting to sing some familiar English
songs with new German lyrics!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO__D9g9m-In8bpsRs93JIv-KG-fm1DMIGn5hZJ1Fp3AfVSyvj254861FdEazvYSeHw9rdn31zLZB0ZxtjAlKDVJWZxwgR1udhHEesMyAF8AFrdFsa51HKiZzYZCPD-tHxVMaixwMSNwB/s1600/German+Church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO__D9g9m-In8bpsRs93JIv-KG-fm1DMIGn5hZJ1Fp3AfVSyvj254861FdEazvYSeHw9rdn31zLZB0ZxtjAlKDVJWZxwgR1udhHEesMyAF8AFrdFsa51HKiZzYZCPD-tHxVMaixwMSNwB/s320/German+Church.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Praising God in Germany!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To help foreigners (like
myself!) understand the sermon, the church offered a simultaneous sermon translation.
This meant that while the pastor was teaching, I could listen through a headset
to a real-time English translation. This was definitely helpful since my German
is not nearly advanced enough to understand an entire sermon! About mid-way
through the sermon, I decided to take a little break from the headset and see
how far my language skills would take me. I did fairly well, but was nowhere
near full comprehension. I remember him talking about the story of the boy who
shared his five loaves (fünf Brötchen) and two fish (zwei Fische) with the crowd
and how Jesus multiplied it to feed over 5,000 people. There was also this
example about giving God all they keys of your life (Schlüssel zu Ihrem Leben)
and not holding back any keys like the key to your house (Schlüssel zu Haus) or
your car (Schlüssel zum Auto). Of course, all of this linked together somehow in
a lesson about Barnabas in the New Testament, but I have to admit that my limited
German didn’t always pick up on the connections. Overall, it was a memorable
experience and I am excited to visit other churches in the area.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sundays in Germany are
traditionally a day of rest (Ruhetag). Stores shut down and many people spend
the day resting or visiting with family and friends. People typically will not
do any type of outdoor/public housework…so no washing your car, mowing your
lawn, hanging your laundry, or painting your patio. (Not that people typically
paint their patios…but I just thought that I would throw that in there!) People
are also expected to be a little more quiet and respectful on Sundays than they
would on normal days of the week. Of course, all of this is from the
perspective of a small rural town in Southern Germany. I am sure that if you
visited the big cities in the north like Berlin or Hamburg, things would
probably be a little different. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Even though the stores in
Kandern are closed on Sunday (make sure to do your shopping on Saturday!),
restaurants do remain open. After church, we decided to stop at the local
Döner/Pizza shop. This is where I had my first (and definitely not my last!)
taste of a Döner kebab, which is a Turkish flatbread which is basically the
same thing of as a Greek Gyro—shaved lamb, tomato, lettuce, cabbage, and a cool
yoghurt sauce. So delicious!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicljsHAGGn7YfRx5-o3et5z01MXy-eljb-d3OlAvfIHvoQsQ1Vd7QjCkUDRi0BUtjt1fsIJr5c_rWk2jU-KmwXPJQbBLNz1FBtI02N64z4-BX9KjfR2NEYeMZP6dJrY-7B3iDTLFXXeZaH/s1600/Doner+Kebab.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicljsHAGGn7YfRx5-o3et5z01MXy-eljb-d3OlAvfIHvoQsQ1Vd7QjCkUDRi0BUtjt1fsIJr5c_rWk2jU-KmwXPJQbBLNz1FBtI02N64z4-BX9KjfR2NEYeMZP6dJrY-7B3iDTLFXXeZaH/s320/Doner+Kebab.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kebab shop at the bottom of our street :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-82577121016251120312013-08-12T11:57:00.001-07:002013-08-21T14:06:11.332-07:00The Kandern Trails<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">If you jog about a quarter
mile away from the Garni House, heading in the direction of the mountains, you
will encounter one of the many entrances into the hiking world of Kandern. I've discovered that there is an entire network of trails, or Wandernweg,
which lead over mountains, through forests, and across fields to connect all
the little rural villages in the area. I have been told that one of the hiking groups
at BFA actually followed this trail network all the way to Basel (which is no
small feat considering the fact that Basel is about an hour away by car!)</span>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On my first run in Kandern, I
can remember how easy it was to find a trail. Bleary eyed and jet lagged, I
stumbled out of the house and headed down Wolfsheule in the direction that I
knew led away from the center of town. (In Kandern, it’s not really normal to
see people running up and down main street…so I figured that I had better flee
to the woods. After all, I wouldn’t want to bewilder the locals on my first
full day in Kandern.) Within 3 feet (literally) of leaving city limits, I saw a small white sign
pointing up a gravel path. Although I didn’t see the customary picture of a
hiker, there were a bunch of different town names followed by a distance marked
out in kilometers written on the sign. Seemed like a trail to me…so I started
on my way up the mountain. Sure enough, I had stumbled upon an entrance to the
Kandern trail network!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Oh, the forests of Germany
are beautiful! There are so many trees, all so thick and full,
like wide green umbrellas bending over the hiking trails. While the Black Forest is commonly known for its foreboding dark pines which supposedly block out the
sun, thus making the forest “black,” this particular section of the forest is a
logging area. Therefore, instead of numerous pines, there are a large number of
tall, branchless trees that are ideal for lumber yards. While running along the
trails, I often see piles of these trees, cut by the side of the trail and perfectly
stacked in flawless German fashion. In addition to stacks of logs, there are
also numerous tree houses, wooden huts, and benches staggered randomly along the trails.
I’m not really sure if these are for camping, or if people just like to build
tree houses…but I have yet to see any people in them. I'll be sure to let you know if I ever do. ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The trail closest to our
house is called Sauweg. It leads about a mile up to big picnic/hiking area
called Waldparkplatz. This area has a large trail map mounted on an
announcement board as well as a few parking places for cars. The trails that
begin at Waldparkplatz are Rainweg (my favorite, so far!), Rotterrainweg, Obererheubergweg (my other favorite), and Fasanengartenweg. Most of these trails are interconnected and lead to even more trails...but I can't quite remember all of the fancy German names. Sometimes they are so long that it is hard to read them within the two seconds that I am running by. I do remember that one of the trails connected to Kandernweg which took me all the way to Hammerstein, the neighboring village. My
plan is to explore as many trails as I can before the winter sets in. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As far as wildlife is
concerned, I haven’t really seen much while I am out on the trails. I caught a
glimpse of a German deer the other day…but they kind of look just like American
deer…maybe a little leaner from running up and down the mountains. The most
common animal that I have encountered are these giant orange slugs. These
things are at least 3 times as big as my thumb and are<b> </b>an brown-orange color. They kind of remind me of carrots...which is just creepy. On wet days, there are so many
that I have to watch my footsteps pretty closely so that I don’t end up with globs
of orange goo on the bottom of my running shoes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In addition to those lovely
creatures, I have also encountered some German dogs. My first encounter
occurred on my second run into the mountains. I was on my way back down Sauweg
when this small, Benji-looking dog came charging at me from down the trail.
Normally, I don’t mind encountering dogs while I am running as long as the
dog’s tail is wagging and the owner is nearby. Well, this dog’s tail was NOT
wagging. He was actually barking and half-snarling as he was tearing up the
trail towards me. His owner, who was about 30 meters back, yelled something at
me in German—but she was too far away, so I couldn’t understand what she was saying.
All I could do was hope that it was something along the lines of “Don’t worry!
He’s nice!” and not “Run for your life!” My instincts told me to stop running
and wait for him to approach me. I stopped and put out my palms face up, so
that he could see that I wasn’t trying to threaten him. Thankfully, he stopped
barking, sniffed my shoes, and decided that I was no longer a threat to German
society and allowed me to go on my way. I greeted his owner with a simple “Guten
Morgen” but didn’t stop to chat just in case “Benji” decided to get frisky
again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My second encounter with
German dogs was even more startling than the first. I was out running on
Rainweg. It was a particularly dark morning with lots of rain clouds and heavy
tree coverage. Well, I was just thinking about how lonely and quiet the woods
were when a man comes around the corner with his three large dogs. The man was
tall, muscular, and bald. He was wearing a black workout suit and he kind of
reminded me of Vin Diesel. Among his large dogs was a fit (slightly
ferocious-looking) Doberman pinscher. Remembering my encounter with “Benji”
from the day before, you can imagine how scared I was to see these three big dogs
coming towards me with their rather intense-looking owner. Well, as soon as the
owner sees me coming up the trail, the most amazing thing happened. He stopped
running and faced his dogs. Then, without saying a word, he put out his palm in
front of them as if motioning for them to stop. The dogs immediately stopped
running and sat in a perfectly straight line in the middle of the trail. Their
owner remained with his hand outstretched until I had passed safely by. He
then, lifted his hand, the dogs simultaneously stood up, and the four of them continued
running. People weren’t kidding when they told me that German animals are
well-trained!</span></div>
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</span>Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8899201710768977527.post-72832605099503076922013-08-11T12:28:00.001-07:002013-08-11T12:31:52.480-07:00The Joys and Terrors of Ikea (aka “ee-kay-ah”)<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Though it may be hard to
believe (I have already shocked several of my roommates with this information)
our shopping trip to Freiburg on Friday was my first time ever shopping at an
Ikea. Unless, of course, I just forgot ever going to one…but, as one of my roommates
clearly pointed out, “Ikea is not a store that you just happen to forget.” </span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5KktnsY6aV1Jd5fC47QOy_4SceeOfLZy4ehgzMSYaarq7u_N6awd9QNAdEJJOhgFYo8EwLsYLvbWy-LdebPLw5n5VDa_sqpSgr5WKhXKP0uu7aTCbdSmYIigUK9ld5heonpS-oAO-qXC7/s1600/ikea-freiburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5KktnsY6aV1Jd5fC47QOy_4SceeOfLZy4ehgzMSYaarq7u_N6awd9QNAdEJJOhgFYo8EwLsYLvbWy-LdebPLw5n5VDa_sqpSgr5WKhXKP0uu7aTCbdSmYIigUK9ld5heonpS-oAO-qXC7/s320/ikea-freiburg.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ikea in Freiburg</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, as I was saying, I had
my first experience at the German Ikea on Friday. If you are a frequent shopper
of Ikea, then you probably know how huge and overwhelming it can be. You begin
by traversing an enormous show room on the top floor where you basically take a
walking tour of a thousand different little apartment rooms. During the tour,
you use your nifty Ikea golf pencil to write down all of the furniture that you
are interested in purchasing. If you survive the showroom, you continue down
the stairs to the “small items” area where you can pick up everything from bed sheets,
to lamps, to clothes hangers, to picture frames, and ceiling fans. Then, if you
somehow make it through all of that, you enter this gigantic warehouse where
you push roller carts up and down aisles searching for the items that you had
written on your card from the showroom. These items are packed away in large
boxes that are often extremely hard to lift and awkwardly shaped. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now, I want you to <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>take that image of Ikea and imagine how you
would feel if every sign and product description was written in German, every
measurement was using the metric system, every price was in Euros, and every
employee was speaking in German. This is exactly what I experienced. Let’s just
say that after 3 hours of intense shopping, I finally crawled out of Ikea,
barely alive, and feeling even more tired, hungry, and thirsty than I do after
a long run. However, I did end up with some pretty exciting bargain-priced
furniture…and a green polka dot duvet cover! ;)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1tu9cnAY9xISB67jwUFukd4OCCRCP_IZscIpY3591sFj637o2Vap94_ut44CxwuhACgiuYIRqU-LiEGc7WJTnEX4aJXOhaNs1i1ATVSZVy5_3kItwn5BA6QjdhDTNi5prawiL0ujjlvge/s1600/IMGP0383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1tu9cnAY9xISB67jwUFukd4OCCRCP_IZscIpY3591sFj637o2Vap94_ut44CxwuhACgiuYIRqU-LiEGc7WJTnEX4aJXOhaNs1i1ATVSZVy5_3kItwn5BA6QjdhDTNi5prawiL0ujjlvge/s320/IMGP0383.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay! New duvet :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now, the big challenge is
assembling all those wonderful bargains into actual furniture and not just a
random pile of wooden boards and screws that is lying on my bedroom floor. I
assumed that with all my training constructing Lego sets as a kid, I would be
more than equipped to handle some Ikea furniture. Not so! I ended up assembling
an entire dresser only to find that I had left the backs off all of the
drawers! Live and learn, I guess. ;) </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxot5YRrad3_S2dGKmwza4kQTzxJPqL5ZP8ni7xLPFK3420lpSiCdTmA0qml2EneV6fY_UW5BLSobbO4w1w5vCsKwciHVwNBBh2lWqgIF9tCSGurPln5LOt1r5b-b7VTc-drMJaIItTbE/s1600/IMGP0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxot5YRrad3_S2dGKmwza4kQTzxJPqL5ZP8ni7xLPFK3420lpSiCdTmA0qml2EneV6fY_UW5BLSobbO4w1w5vCsKwciHVwNBBh2lWqgIF9tCSGurPln5LOt1r5b-b7VTc-drMJaIItTbE/s320/IMGP0390.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ikea construction kit...please note the beautiful rock that we substituted for a hammer!</span></td></tr>
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Ahnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09721128647089550451noreply@blogger.com0