Visit.

My sister left this morning. Sad story.
We had a great time together though, not so much of a sad story.

Although lots of great memories were made and had, here are some highlights of our trip:

*Cabin in the French Alps with the family I work for (ice skate outside- my first time)
*William Fitzsimmons concert in Switzerland (nice guy he is)
* Hour wait for the train in the freezing cold weather b/c it got stuck in snow, 50 somethin' yr old Arab man asks me how old I am, what hotel I'm checking into and whether or not he can come.
* Third night in Paris, meet up with some locals- lots of laughs/jokes. good times
* Visited the Louvre and saw the painting that was used for Coldplay's Viva La Vida album. I saw other paintings too I guess. That was just the most important one of course.
*Walking to the metro one day, a man tries to grab my face. Sister pulls me to safety, we laugh nervously.
*La Sacre Coeur, La Tour Eiffel, Montmarte, La Defense & Hausman Saint Lazare we visited. I have decided that I despise huge crowds, especially during the holidays. I have also decided that I am a country girl at heart, I'd rather commute to a city from time to time.
* Amazing Christmas Eve dinner where I was reunited with my southern village roommate and good friend Grace.
* Christmas day spent with my sister walking all over Paris, nice dinner at a little restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.
*I've mastered the metro system now. Feels good.
*Attend church in southern Paris, great worship service

Great Christmas break indeed!

Memories

I've been having a great time, living the life abroad.
The journey so far has been filled with tears, laughter, enlightenment, spiritual awakening and overall growth for the better. Even though I'm here I haven't in the least bit forgotten about the special things back in the States that have contributed to the person I am today. Oh how I miss it all...

I miss driving my car through the back hills of Collegedale during the crisp fall mornings. Gold colored, burnt-orange leaves falling silently to the ground.
I miss my improv crew
I miss making cards full of joy and encouragement and passing them around in a nursing home
I miss the social functions at the Footes' home (swing dancing, was one of the best in my opinion)
I miss singing hymns in church
I miss randomly showing up at Tara, Sarah, Brittany, Brittany and Nicks house (yes, you were a resident my friend) and having sing-a-long sessions after vespers
I miss good talks and trips to the Yellow Deli in the middle of the night
I miss walking around Coolidge park with friends, throwing around a football, or just crusting on a blanket.
I miss making new friends and long trips to Michigan listening to Priscilla Ahn and Jon Foreman
I miss challenging conversations about spirituality (thanks Ben and Zach)
I miss talking about fashion, boys and watching Dr. Quinn Medicine woman all 6 seasons in about a week (Ashley, Amanda and Sharon)
I miss venus & mars (Leslie, Monica, Eric, Ryan, Stella, Ben, Zach, Nick, Sarah, Tony,...oh geez the list goes on)
I miss late night talks and should-be-studying but opting to dance, sessions with my roommates in Hickory 8 (Grace, Edely,)

There are a lot more things I miss but it might be a longer blog than I would want...

The last few years at Southern have been quite rough for me, losing family members to death, dealing with a horrific break-up, "finding" myself again, changing my major and patching things up with my Creator. Since I live on mountain, I have lots of time to think about and reflect on lots of things. All in all, I just thank and appreciate everyone I have come into contact with over the last three years. I will hold onto these precious memories no matter where I am.

"Life is a rough Biography. Memories smooth out the edges." - Dante G. Roque

"Memory is a way of holding onto things that you love,
the things you are, the things you never want to lose."
-The Wonder Years

Oh William.

Sister+ good music+William= a very good night.

L'Usine--Geneva, Switzerland

Let's not be stupid again.

Tomorrow my sister and I will be reunited after almost six months of separation. She's the best, the very best and I can't wait to see her.

On a different note, the last three days for me have been much reflection and searching. I just got back from from a school trip to Strasbourg, Colmar, and Alsace (all in France). I visited christmas festivals and medieval villages. I took a boat tour and bought christmas presents for my family. It was all so christmas-y, warm and inviting. Europeans do christmas right in my opinion. That however is not what got me thinking though. Among all of this joyful, and colorful experience I was faced with a lot of sadness. I had the opportunity to visit a concentration camp here in France. Happy Holidays?! yeah, I know but I'm glad we went.

Struthof is the name, and horror is the game. I've read the Corrie Ten Boom book and have had history courses about that fatal event in history but nothing, my imagination or knowledge combined can compare to the rush of emotion I felt as I stood in the very place where thousands lost their lives.

Upon arriving, we were ushered into a room where there was a screen showing horrifying clips and pictures of what went on in the concentration camps during that time. Quotes of the deceased where being read during these clips and we were shown letters of what people were thinking and saying throughout their time at Struthof. Afterward we entered a room that had various pictures blown up on the walls with information about what was going on during that time period particularly in France. And then, I walked outisde to see this:



I walked in to be reminded about this tragedy but years ago innocent people walked in, not knowing that they would cease being treated like humans.
The not-so-funny thing was that behind and all around that gate was the most beautiful view. Mountains looming in the distance and trees and green for miles. It felt good to be in such beautiful nature, but the fact still remained, despite the beauty of it all, there was a darkness hovering.
It was the beginning of my journey and to be honest, I had shivers down my spine. There was something eerie about walking in and leaving someplace where many had walked in and never left. I felt honored and sad. The first building I went in was more information and pictures and some articles of clothing, utensils and various objects that were used to inflict pain on people.
I was not, however prepared for the next building I was about to walk in. There was a sign on the door that said, Silence et Respect. I walked in, barely breathing.

The first thing my eyes laid sight on was a contraption used to cremate bodies. There was a gas chamber right next door and through a little window I could see the "shower" used to kill hundreds of people at one time. I sucked in a breath in the next room. There were still blood stains on the walls. Apparently it was an execution room. There was a drain in the middle of the room so that the victims blood could run down into it immediately after being shot in the neck. My vivid imagination ran wild without my permission. Women crying, bald men walking around like zombies, the life sucked out of them.

There were small rooms where hundreds were crammed in for punishment. They couldn't sit or lie down and they were naked. There was a surgery room- where the doctors ran their painful "experiments". Small chambers about the size of a locker, maybe a little wider where people were kept for three days as punishment before they were executed. Such cruelty. There were brave ones who lost their lives for standing up, for challenging those who tried to oppress them. It made me think.

It made me think a lot. These people lost everything, their dignity, their humanity, everything. It was a wake up call.
It made me remember about the things that really matter. It made me realize once again, that this world is not my home.
It made me realize that as humans we are capable of repeating mistakes. It's not over yet.
It made me realize more then ever that as hard as it may seem sometimes, to live my life fully for Christ is the only way I'll make it. Him first before me, always. The decisions I make now shape my character for later.
It won't always be peachy. About 60,000 people died at this camp.
It could happen, in a different form. I hope not.


"Unless you are faithful in small matters, you won't be faithful in large ones"
Luke 16:10 (NLT)



"Surgery Room"

Happy Snow Day

"Hey! Omigosh, wake up!
Look outside! It's snowiiiiing!"

That was the frantic wake up call from my roommate. Then my eyes feasted on this:






So I decided to capture my first snow fall in France:







Then, today in the mail all the Southern students received a little christmas surprise:







Happy snow day everyone, it's a great day.

frustration

This is Naudz. Naudz is my sister.
Naudz was asked by a photography major at Andrews University to help him with a project.
This picture encompasses every emotion that I'm feeling right now.
This very second.

It's been a reoccurring feeling lately.

I am frustrated with matters of my spirituality.
I am frustrated with matters of the heart.
I am frustrated with people who call themselves my friends.
I am frustrated with not knowing what my purpose in this life is.
I am frustrated with well...almost everything at this point.

It'll be nice when I WON'T feel like this anymore, although for some reason I have a feeling that it might take awhile.
Well, in any case I'm working on it. To NOT be as frustrated as I am. Right now. This very second.

It's really frustrating to be frustrated. It really is.

Fog, get rid of it

I have been living in a cloud for about a week now. Literally.
Intense fog and cloud like substances have been hovering over our little town and massive mountain.
The other day I woke up and looked out my window. I was staring directly at a cloud. I felt as if I was floating.
Some have been complaining that they don't so much like this intrusion of nature. I don't mind it.
I feel hidden and safe. I can't even see two feet in front of me when walking to class. Its exciting.
Funny how I don't have the same reaction in trusting God's leading in my life.

The campus has had an erie feel because of the fog, and up until today there was a strange warm breeze continually blowing all week. It's mid November and the leaves have fallen. The trees stand naked. Vulnerable even. The fog lingers. I haven't seen the top of the Saleve in about a week. Its beautiful. Strangely beautiful.

Wish I could say the same about my life, truth is the fog that I live in day in and day out sometimes hinders me from accomplishing greater things. The physical fog is romantic and dangerous, alluring even. And so is the spiritual fog, so many times I try to conquer it all on my own. Sins, selfish wants, ungodly tendencies are romantic, dangerous and alluring.

Is it worth it?
Of course not.
Do I need His help daily?
Of course I do. I often forget to ask of it though.

My prayer for me and for you is to get rid of the "fog" in our lives to clearly see what God intends for us.

sister

Three weeks.

Three weeks.

Three. Weeks.

I will see her pretty little round face.

In three weeks my sister will be here in France with me. She will be with me for 16 days.

Am I excited?


I might be. just a tad.

Fallen, but not Lost

I have been attending a weekly Bible study on Tuesday nights since being here in Collonges. It's just a few of us, but that's okay. We've been studying Genesis the last few weeks and last night we had a discussion about chapter 3. I have read Genesis before, "Our little Friend", "Guide", family worships and some of my own devotion time helped contribute to my education of the "In the beginning" story. I think the last time I read it in it's entirety was sometime in middle school but that's besides the point. It's self explanatory right? God makes the world, God makes man, then woman. They fall in love. Eat from the tree, then human race is almost doomed, Jesus to the rescue, Amen.

There's more than that though. We looked closer, dug deeper to find some very enlightening things.

Among the many points in this chapter, here's what suck out to me:

Verse 20- "Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living."

I noticed that throughout the time Adam and Eve had been together before the fall he had called her 'woman'-

Chapter 2 verse 23

The man said,
This is now bone of my bones,
and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called 'woman'
for she was taken out of man.

I think to myself, immediately after 'woman' gave him the fruit and they realized their vulnerability everything changed. Maybe at that point, they felt that they were no longer "one". Something wasn't vibing anymore. Woman had come from man but he couldn't trust her anymore. Things were different. He named her Eve. He felt hurt for the first time. Separation occurs.
Man's curse was that he would toil with the land for the rest of his life. Nature wouldn't work with him but against him. Men who burry themselves in their work today possibly as a distraction? Avoidance possibly?
Woman's curse was that she would have pain in childbearing and that her desire would be for her husband. So true, even today. I don't care how feministic or tough you are (myself included of course) we all desire men. We want to please them, be recognized by them, be their treasure or less. Media tells us all the little "secrets" we should know in order to keep our men around.

We messed up big time.

I often wonder what would have happened if?

if Adam hadn't eaten the fruit and asked God to spare Eve's life. I mean really for beings who had never experienced the emotions of sin; blame, shame and nakedness, they were intelligent enough to immediately think to themselves, "umm let's sew some fig leaves together because we shouldn't be exposed like this" they should have been intelligent enough to think, at least Adam, to deny the fruit and ask for some kind of alternative plan.

if Adam really loved 'woman' than maybe he would've asked to die in her place. That would have been romantic.
That was not the case however and we cannot turn back the clock. We can however see that even from the beginning man and woman have had their issues. Sin not only placed a wedge between us and our Maker, but between each other as well.
So what do we do? We hurt each other, want each other, loathe one another, "need" the other, deceive each other, love each other, make idols of each other... the list goes on. Thank goodness for God's love.

I am highly interested in the human psyche, and the way that men and women relate to each other fascinates me. How can we learn to love each other truly and become "one" again the way God wants? So many walls have been built, innocent hearts betrayed, and hopeful spirits crushed. Trust issues, love issues,compatibility issues, all kind of issues... what fascinates me even more is that God intended such deep, and meaningful relationships for the three of us: man, woman, and Him. Unfortunately, it's not that easy but there is a way.

Accept God's love for you.
Love Him back.
Trust Him. Then,
Copy Him: Love others.

I do believe that the way we can learn to love is by learning how God loves. Maybe this won't always make sense, we are human and cannot comprehend what God expects of us. We just walk blindly. We walk until we fall right where he needs us to be, with who we need to be with.

We are fallen, but not lost.

Hebrews 10:36
'You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.'

I think that goes for everything, even relationships. All types.

We are all vulnerable. That is a fact of life.

One day Adam and Eve will be man and woman again. One day.

He answered before I spoke

My struggle and His response:

I'm not brave.

I'LL LEAD YOU

I'm not eloquent or good with words.

ALL I NEED IS A WILLING SPIRIT

I'm hurting.

TRUST ME, I CAN HEAL IF YOU'LL LET ME

I can't even figure out how to follow your commands.

WALK WITH ME

I might be a Pop and a Trad- but definitely not a Rad. Not yet anyway.

LET ME HELP YOU

I always mess up.

I DIED FOR YOU

I don't always stand up for You.

I DIED FOR YOU

I let you down.

I DIED FOR YOU

I compare, criticize and judge unfairly.

I JUDGE FAIRLY

I keep trying to "find myself" but without You.

HOLD MY HAND

I'm inconsistent.

I'M CONSISTENT

I'm so lost.

I'VE FOUND YOU.

He answered before I spoke.

He knew what my heart was saying.

He answered before I spoke.

Paris Je t'aime? Part 2

Days 1, 2, 3 & 4- Go to Versailles, some old hospital in Orleans, Chateaux de Chambord, The Eiffel Tower with the school. Live off of croissants and bread and cheese the whole time.

Get lost in an art district. People ask if they can sketch us, paint us, draw us. We find La Sacre Coeur. I am reminded of the Mary-Kate and Ashley movie, "Passport to Paris". Flashback to childhood. I may have squealed.

I eat the best crêpe EVER.

Day 5- sit in McDonalds for three hours and eat twice. Watch weird music videos.

I notice that EVERYONE smokes in Paris, and EVERYONE looks the same. They wear a lot of black.

Meet up with our couchsurfing host Michelle. Awkward moments at her best friends birthday party. Good conversations with everyone there.

Day 6- It's the sabbath. We sleep in then listen to John Nixon's sermon online.

Day 7- Meet up with some of our fellow ACA peers and go to the Sacre Coeur for the second time. Shopping is had.

Ate a Kabob. It was tasty.

Later, we make our way over to Jim Haynes home for a delightful evening. I get some business cards and a picture with Jim Haynes. I also purchase his book "Everything Is".

Day 8- We walk the streets of Paris, visit the Notre Dame. More shopping. Feet hurt.

Later, we meet Michelle's friends and fellow Parisian couch surfers (apparently there are 10,000 in Paris and they were ALL there. It seemed that way anyway) at an "Irish" pub that was really American (they were playing American football on the TV).

Played a quiz game in teams. The prize was a bottle of Vodka. We lost.

Day 9- I have finally mastered how maintain balance when riding in the Metro so as not to fall into strangers when it abruptly starts moving.

We walk the streets of Paris, visit the Louvre. More shopping. Feet hurt, a LOT. Eat at a "natural"/bio restaurant. It was okay. Not worth 12 euros though.

Go back to Michelle's flat. Hang out, write a song about Pesto Rosso while playing her guitar.

We get dressed- we're going out. Benjamin has connections. We go to Duplex.

I danced with the Parisians until 5:30am. Feet are on fire.

Day 10- get back to Michelle's place at 6:30am. Sleep for two hours.

Say our goodbyes and hop on a bus that takes us to Brussels.

What an adventure.

Everything Is.

Another great night in Paris.

I just left the home of Jim Haynes, who for thirty or so years has been hosting parties at his home. He lives in Paris but is American and has written many books and leaflets concerning all types of topics; politics, love/sex, life, just to name a few. Great guy.

Let's rewind a few weeks back when Austin McAllister, my roomate, asked me if I wanted to go to a gathering with her. She read out loud to me the information she found on yahoo answers about Mr. Haynes and I said why not. Fastforward.
Upon arriving to Mr. Haynes house I realized that at the moment, we were the only considerably young ones there. I was afraid this would turn into a "old people trying to be young again, drunk party". So wrong.

I had the priviledge to meet all types of people from different walks of life, education, background etc. There were few young people and many well-seasoned individuals which frankly didn't bother me in the end because I realized that I could obtain nuggets of wisdom, be in the company of really interesting people, do some networking AND hear some really great stories.

For instance:
I met a group of women who met in Saudi Arabia in the eighties (most from the states and one from england) and for the last 25 years have been meeting up to travel! All from different walks of life, states, countries but they've formed a bond and plan trips together.

then, I met a German girl who is currently a representative in Paris for German Vogue. Her and her muslim friend, Austin and I had a lovely conversation about pirates, Berlin, Muslims and Christianity. We even shared a metro ride with them and they offered to host us if we ever made it to London or Berlin. Très cool.

I got a chance to glean some knowledge from a really cool lady, a writer from New York who's book has been translated into 17 languages already! I also got to do a little chatting with a Psychology/Social Work professor who lit the fire underneath me all over again. I felt like I had passion again. It was great.

Of course, I chatted a bit with Jim Haynes himself, who is a delightful gentleman- and I bought his book "Everything Is". All in all it was quite an adventure and an eventful evening.

Hooray for Jim Haynes!

Paris, Je t'aime? Part 1

Five days in Paris so far. Five more to go.
It started out as a class trip. Before arriving in Paris we visited Chambord (the hunting chateaux of royalty long ago) and Versailles, both of which were extremely breathtaking. If only walls could talk. I wish.

I did all the touristy stuff of course, the Eiffel tower, the boat ride down la ciène, Notre Dame, the Arc of Triumph etc. It was grand. Now that I am officially on fall break, (the school left those who decided to travel for break) I am currently couchsurfing at a Parisean's flat. We, Austin McAllister and I, had a great time last night meeting Michelle, our host, and her friends. It happened to be her friend's birthday last night and although the night started out a little awkward at first, being that we random chics were yelling surprise at a complete stranger's 25th birthday party, the evening ended smoothly. Everyone was very nice and wanted to know lots about America, so I tried as best I could to answer their questions. One guy, thinks that he has an American soul. He put it to me has having the "American dream". He was born on the 4th of July, loves American film, jazz, and would like to visit New York one day.

I had an interesting conversation with a guy named Benjamin about religion. It was short and brief. I don't quite remember how we got on the topic but pretty soon I was telling him that my dad was a pastor. He looked puzzled and asked why he was allowed to be married.

I said it was because we aren't Catholic.
So, you're Protestant?
Yes. I answered.

He proceeded to tell me that he is Catholic but he doesn't practice. In fact, religion doesn't really interest him at all. He quickly added that he respected those who practiced religion, maybe he thought he was offending me somehow. He mentioned that he believed that there was something bigger out there taking care of things but religion was just not for him. His eyes were challenging me quietly after a moment of silence, as if he was wanting me to explain why I was "practicing religion". I said that for me, I had nothing to lose and so much to gain. He looked interested for a second at my reply but then we got interupted by the blowing out the candles of the brownie cake.
That short and brief conversation really confirmed something in my mind: No matter who we are, or what we believe, we cannot escape the connection we have with God and that, is pretty awesome.

Just Thoughts

Have you ever had an embarrassing moment in your life re-lived vividly in your mind but you're somewhere in public? Like say you are shopping, flipping through clothing racks and all of a sudden a shocking wave of memory takes over your brain. You are now grimacing, wrinkles lining your face like you just took a sip of milk gone bad. Or maybe your in class or at work, drifting off into your daydreams and then...BAM! You wince or maybe even chuckle nervously, because you remember a careless decision made in the past that felt like you make it yesterday.

Well I had one of those days today. I was walking to the cafeteria for supper tonight and was rudely reminded by my memories of an event that recently took place in my life (recently being within the last six months or so). My face felt warm again and my heart was pumping faster and without even realizing it until it was too late, I let out the loudest groan. It is absolutely fascinating to me the way the body reacts to emotion. The french guy that I was sharing the walkway with probably thought I was crazy, the way I was involuntarily carrying on. I quickly sucked in my breath realizing that I was sharing my regret with a complete and total stranger who probably by now was thinking that I didn't have all my marbles together. I noticed he walked a little faster after that. Oh well.

That little episode got me thinking about all the decisions that I have made in my life. The small ones, not seemingly significant at the time, and the big ones some of which I wish I could do over. I've often wondered when people say "live life with no regrets" what do they really mean by that? how can you make a mistake and not regret it? No one, last time I checked likes feeling foolish, or like a failure or just plain dumb. I have often played and replayed scenarios, decisions, conversations, actions (the list goes on) in my mind wishing I had done things differently, wishing there was a different outcome, wishing for anything else but the reality staring me right in the face.

Being here in France has really forced me to think a lot about the decisions I've made along this journey of mine. Its really intense when you don't have a lot of distractions. I'm on top of a mountain for crying out loud. All I do is study french, so I've got LOTS of free time. Lots of time to think about everything. Some decisions made I am content with and others well, obviously are a little unsettling. I haven't really been able to say that I have no regrets. I do have regrets, lots of them actually. Surprisingly though I have realized that sometimes it's good to have the painful memories re-lived. They are certainly not enjoyable to say the least but they do remind us what not to do (I'm trying to be positive here) clearly the mistakes I have made I could live without them, really I could, but they are made and there is nothing left to do except live with them and I suppose that is part of what makes us stronger. Realizing our mistakes and learning from them. Pain forces us to grow, I truly believe that and as much as I hate to have my little wincing/groaning sessions that weird people out, I know that in the long run I have hopefully learned my lesson and will opt for a different choice the second, third or maybe even fourth time around (hey, it happens).

Camille

One of my new favorite french artists:

Ta Douleur :
Lève toi c'est décidé
Laisse-moi te remplacer
Je vais prendre ta douleur

Doucement sans faire de bruit
Comme on réveille la pluie
Je vais prendre ta douleur

Elle lutte elle se débat
Mais ne résistera pas
Je vais bloquer l'ascenseur...
Saboter l'interrupteur

Mais c'est qui cette incrustée
Cet orage avant l'été
Sale chipie de petite soeur ?

Je vais tout lui confisquer
Ses fléchettes et son sifflet
Je vais lui donner la fessée...
La virer de la récrée

Mais c'est qui cette héritière
Qui se baigne qui se terre
Dans l'eau tiède de tes reins ?

Je vais la priver de dessert
Lui faire mordre la poussière
De tous ceux qui n'ont plus rien...
De tous ceux qui n'ont plus faim

Dites moi que fout la science
A quand ce pont entre nos panses ?
Si tu as mal là où t'as peur
Tu n'as pas mal là où je pense !

Qu'est-ce qu´elle veut cette conasse
Le beurre ou l'argent du beurre
Que tu vives ou que tu meurs ?

Faut qu'elle crève de bonheur
Ou qu'elle change de godasses
Faut qu'elle croule sous les fleurs
Change de couleur...
Je vais jouer au docteur

Dites moi que fout la science
A quand ce pont entre nos panses ?
Si tu as mal là où t'as peur
Tu n'as pas mal là où je chante !

***

I found this really neat quote on a friends facebook page earlier today and decided to add it. It's simple, yet so true:

Always forgive,
but never forget.
Learn from your mistakes,
but never regret.
People change,
things go wrong.
Just remember;
life goes on.

A Day in the Clouds

Mont Blanc and Tiramasu

Today has been, to date, the best experience of my life; yes it has!

The school took us on a trip to Chamonix to see Mont Blanc (for those of you who don't know it is the highest mountain in the Alps and Western Europe). It rises 15,781 ft!!.The scenic bus ride took about an hour and the sights were breathtaking. Lush, rolling green hills, houses and farms stretched out across the valley. Trees stacked one on top of the other like thick carpet, lined the bottom of the mountains. When we finally reached our destination we went up about 12,000 feet by cable car and let me tell you, the ride in the cable car itself was an experience.

I stepped into the red and silver contraption not really knowing what to expect. I have never ridden in one before, so I was expecting a very smooth ride. SO WRONG. haha. The car smoothly ascended upwards at first but the higher we got it would jolt and sway back and forth. Roller coaster lovers, (I am not one), of course were screaming with glee and then there were those like myself who were spitting out prayers like wildfire. I grabbed onto a pole, knuckles whiter than I've ever seen them. I thought to myself "I have got to make it off this thing alive, dropping from this thing would most definitely be a painful death". I quickly pushed the thought out of my mind and just focused on the final destination: to see one of the most famous mountains in the world.

Upon crashing into the cabin slot thing, yes crashing (with some exaggeration), because we definitely hit the wall first instead of gliding right into the spot allotted for the cable car. I gingerly stepped out of the still swinging car onto the platform. It was cold and the air was crisp. The mountain shone brightly and glistened like a crystal, so I put my shades on. The sun reflecting on the ice and snow made everything look so magical and I got so caught up in the moment... until I looked down at the not-so-sturdy wood beneath me and realized that if I slipped under the railing, I could fall to my death. To my left, mountaineers with their ice picks were climbing higher up the mountain. Snowboarders and skiers were taking their chance at tackling the monstrosity of a mountain. Paraponting is quite popular, I've noticed in these parts, and many individuals were jumping off the top of the mountain with nothing but a parachute. They looked like colorful birds drifting slowly in the sky. I haven't decided yet, but I just might have to try that activity before I leave Europe.

After eating our neatly packed lunch, courtesy of the cafeteria, a few of us were still hungry so we decided to eat at the restaurant inside the mountain adjacent to Mont Blanc. It was small and cozy and had a rustic feel to it. Medium sized windows permitted us a breathtaking view of the clouds surrounding us in the mountain. The waiter was nice and even corrected us when our french was a little off. I personally did not feel like paying 30 euros for a meal, so I opted for desert instead. A delicious tiramisu. I can still taste the creamy goodness of it all.

During the meal, I experienced a little bit of altitude sickness. My heart was racing and I was extremely short of breath and lightheaded. Nothing too serious, but it was slightly uncomfortable. I noticed that I felt better once I was outside in the fresh air. The whole experience; the turbulent cable car ride, the fear of heights/falling, and the altitude sickness was worth it.

I would recommend if given the chance, to go visit this majestic wonder. I was above the clouds and it was as if I could touch the high heavens. Talk about amazing. It was. I was reminded once again of how insignificant and small I am in this world. I was able to partake in a wonderful moment in nature, what can I say? It was just simply amazing.

Modern day Christian

Modern day Christian. What does that mean?

I know that today a lot of us young people are more about the relationships we have with people rather than the do's and don'ts of Christianity. Sometimes I feel like I have an idea of what Jesus would want me to do in certain situations but other times... I haven't the slightest idea...

Yesterday was the second day I was at the Gyrog household to help their children, 14 and 11 with their english homework. The kids are great and I'm grateful I have a way of getting a little income while I am here. What I was about to face though, I was not expecting at all. I have gotten so used to my little bubble at SAU and at home, not having to defend what I believe or why I do what I do. This situation took me for a loop.

I was sitting at the bar with Marie Helen helping her write a narrative story in english. Her mother, who was in the process of mowing their very big, green, lush lawn came in to have a chat with me about what my hours would be, and I was telling her when all my vacations were so we could plan accordingly since obviously her kids go to a public school and have different dates for their vacations. She mentioned that she would need me Friday evening to watch the kids and go over their homework for the following week. She said I could just stay and have dinner with them and watch The Office with the kids (it's their favorite American t.v show) I mentioned that it was fine, I would watch the kids but that I'd just bring a book to read. She looked puzzled but mentioned that she would need me Sabbath afternoons/evenings, not always but sometimes because her and her husband rarely get to go out. I proceeded to tell her that I may do evenings but not afternoons. She was definitely confused and finally asked me why.

I was stumped.

I finally managed to explain to her my sabbath (I felt like my parents at that moment) She looked so surprised and asked me if that was an SDA thing. I hesitated. Then said yes, for some. (for some?!) She said that all the other ACA girls never had a problem working for her friday and saturdays in the past and that they were all SDA. What the heck do you say to that?! I told her I came from a conservative background. She nodded and then asked me what I wouldn't eat. (She was making crab for dinner) I told her, you know, all the "unclean meats" ::sigh:: I feel so stupid now looking back on that conversation. I have been struggling with this balance my WHOLE life. How do I live for God and serve others and witness? Do I quit this job?! In the beginning I really felt like God worked it out for me to even find work because it's so difficult for us to find jobs out here. I have no idea what to do.

A part of me feels like I should be different, stand out be a "peculiar" person but I focus too much on the "rules" that I forget about the relationship with the people. Can you tell this isn't a lifestyle thing? Always being around SDAs has made me comfortable so comfortable that I don't even know how to act, what to say anymore to non-christians. So sad. So for now I am feeling quite lost. I really just want to do the right thing. I really love the family, they have been so good to me so far and I get along with the kids just fine.

So what's really the issue here? Watching non-religious t.v on a friday night, and eating "unclean" meats? or should I just be concerned about building a relationship with these people before I get my undergarments all tied up in a knot?

still searching.

any suggestions?

God Is Good.

The last few days have been extremely cold, overcast, rainy and foggy. Not really good for my psyche. Today however the sun plays tag with the clouds and peeks in and out every so often which I'm grateful for. I'm sitting at my desk facing the window and staring directly at Saleve. A slight fog is hovering over the peaks of the mountain but it's still very beautiful. It's one of those days when I remember that I'm not back home in America. It's a good feeling.

Yesterday, I had such a wonderful three hour conversation with one of the girls here (she's from Southern) and realized that she and I have a lot in common. It's funny to think that I had passed her many times on the promenade, sat behind her in convocation, or maybe smiled at her during a joint worship but never made her acquaintance until now. Well God has perfect timing and divine appointments indeed because we both were there with each other when we thought that no one would be able to understand. All I can say is that God is good, even though I most certainly am NOT.

Anyway, we both expressed that we came to France not only to learn the language but to find God as well. Confessions were made about possibly trying to run from certain situations or to lose baggage that we felt were too much to bear. Then it hit us, duh! bagg-age...it flippin follows you wherever you go! The very things we were trying to leave behind in our surroundings back home, came right with us. Here we are, 4,000 miles away from home and the people we love; every memory, every tear shed, every account of pain, remembered. So much for the idealistic thoughts we came with: go to europe and start fresh! go to europe and forget everything painful! hmmmm not so much. Not now anyway.

I suppose that in due time God will reveal himself and the plans for our lives. To be honest though, I am tired of waiting. I've been waiting forever it seems like. It really gets discouraging sometimes. Despite it all, I'm just going to keep on saying that God is good. He is Good. My Maker is good. He is a good God. Maybe, sometimes you just have to say it enough to believe it. Maybe you don't always have the answers but if you blindly walk just for the heck of it His goodness will surface. That means that when I'm having a bad day, or when I see no end to the madness, I will remind myself that God is good. When I'm annoyed with people or my situation and I get lost somewhere in Europe, God is good. If I go to bed hungry and I'm wishing for some of my mother's cooked food, God is good. When I'm feeling lonely and the french students look at me weirdly because I mispronounced a word, God is good. When I look out my window like today, and the birds are chirping and Saleve in all it's glory casts a cool shadow, God is good. When the ACA students get together and laugh and have a great time, God is good. During orchestra, when the little boy that sits next to me, gives me a huge smile just for the heck of it, God is good.

That's just it. God is good. His way is better than my way.

I'll keep saying it until I believe it with all the confidence in the world.

God is good.

To say or not to say?

Today started out okay, then ended being really rough, then got okay again.

It's the third day of classes, and for the most part I am able to understand when the teachers are speaking to us, minus a few words here and there. In one particular class, Langue en contexte, we are learning soley about French culture then and now and how to use the language in everyday life. The professor began the class asking us about cliches we may have heard about French people, and different comments were made: French people don't shower regularly, they only eat bread and cheese, they hate americans (which I found out is not necessarily true, they mostly hate Bush and dislike americans who come to france and only speak english instead of trying to speak french)etc.

Anyway, a question was burning up inside of me and I just had to ask it. Before I had left, I was told not to tell the french that I was of haitian background but I forgot and was telling everyone that I met where my parents are from. I noticed that after saying so, people started treating me a little differently, but it didn't really register. So I raised my hand, and in my nervousness, spat out the question very rapidly in french: "Is it true that French people do not like Haitians?" My professor, Claire, found it difficult to answer me right away- she bowed her head almost seemingly in a wincing manner and I braced myself for the ugly truth. When she lifted her head up again she said that yes, Haitians are not well-liked, they have a horrible reputation.

I asked her why.

She said that haitians are moochers and don't work hard. The men are seducers and the people as a whole are no-good doers. My whole body went stiff. Are you f***ing kidding me?! I thought in my head ("f" as in flagella of course- sorry folks, I've got to be real with how I felt at the time) I thought about how my mother at the tender age of 17 immigrated to Massachusetts with nothing but a few clothes and a dream. She worked in three different factories, at the same time, risking her life and her health to pay for her education. I thought of my father, determined and loving father who almost died on many occasions because of his failing health, he had worked himself so hard to provide for us. I thought of how my parents came to america with NOTHING to their name and to see them now, Mom, a nurse manager and Dad finishing up his thesis for a doctorate in Psychology. My blood boiled, a combination of anger and sadness (mostly sadness) because coming to France has been my childhood dream. My grandmother always talked to me about my heritage-about how her father was a frenchmen (yes, brown hair & blue eyes- a white man) who took himself a local on the island and voila! she and four other sisters were born. She told me to look for the Beneche name when I got here and that is what I intended to do. Now, quicker than I could blink it was as if that dream was being taken away. I thought about the times as a kid, being chastised for being haitian; in my nieghborhood kids throwing rocks at my sister and I because they couldn't believe that we were haitian. "You guys don't look haitian!" they told us. What the HECK does a haitian look like?! Please, somebody tell me. I am SO SICK of that phrase. I'm so sick of being put down. Just like in every race, culture, creed there are flaws and yes, there are those who prove the stereotypes to be true, but is it necessary to write someone off because of what you've HEARD, not even what you have personally experienced?

Anyway, I fought back the tears the rest of the class period and composed myself until the bell rang. I leaped out of my seat, clamoring for the door desperately,( my eye sight was getting fuzzy), I finally opened the door and was about to leave the building when I remembered I needed to go see Daniela, the director of Ifle to add one more class. I turned around and headed towards her office. As soon as she smiled and very sweetly greeted me, I lost it. I was bawling like baby. She was so understanding as I choked out what had happened and how I was feeling in French. She nodded and explained to me that she was so sorry and that it is unfortunate that there is a prejudice but she told me not to hide who I am. She told me that I shouldn't be ashamed or feel like it was stupid to cry over something like this (I did feel kinda lame) she encouraged me to be proud and to show people the opposite of the sterotypes. I felt so much better. Like I was in grade school again, but still so much better.

I guess what I have learned is that life is definitely a growing experience and I will always be faced with conflict. I have to learn how to take that negative energy and make it positive. Easier said, then done of course but I'll at least try. The rest, I'm leaving up to God.

*****

Later,

I was invited to the gym to play soccer with the boys. I wasn't going to go at first because I wanted to study my french conjugations, but I finally decided to go. It was grand. I think it was God's way of making me forget about everything and just enjoy myself, which I did. Although the day started out a little rough, everything worked out in the end. =)

until next time!

Mt. Saleve and late night adventures

I have had a very interesting last two days.

It all started on Wednesday. A group of us ACA students decided it was a beautiful day and we were going to figure out how to get to the top of Saleve. A few girls had attended Collonges a few years back and were familiar with the trails that led up to the mountain so we decided to follow their lead. I just want to say however, that if I do not return to the states extremeley fit, something is terribly wrong. I seriously felt like I was going to hurl out all my insides at times (I know, kinda graphic but I had to go there) I never realized how out of shape I am! The guys in the group of course were in the lead and climbing at a fast pace, leaving the rest of us in the dust. I decided that this was a challenge that I would push myself through. Mind over matter right?! So I gathered myself mentally and fought through the searing pain in my body. I never looked down and kept my eyes periodically on the ground so as not to step on lose rock, which from time to time would shower me as the people above me steadily moved forward.

Some of the group lagged behind (the altitude was a little much for some) and so onward the faithful few of us trudged along taking breaks every now an then, inspecting the progress being made. My water bottle was emptying quickly and I savored my last drop halfway up the mountain. Caves and overhangs opened toward us daringly but we moved steadily along until we reached the famous, tiny wooden bridge that would take us higher into rock that if climbed would surely lead us to our deaths. I held my breath and walked softly and quickly, taking note of a few missing planks and praying the whole way up. Once the bridge ended, we were back to climbing huge rock/boulder type things. A thin wire nailed to the side of the rock guided us up and up and up until...we reached the very top of the mountain.

It was a sight to behold. I looked out and could see as far as Annency and Geneva. The rolling hills plain in sight and the campus beneath us looked very small. Cow bells rang in the distance and children, young and old were walking atop the mountain. Hand gliders swaying with the wind gently drifted from the mountain. We decided to keep walking and opened a gate that led us straight into a cow pasture. Beyond that, Mount Blanche in the distance taunting us with it's snow tipped peaks, seemed to glitter in the sunlight. I couldn't believe my eyes. Maybe this was one reason why dear E.G White put adventist schools in semi-secluded areas. She wanted us to be one with nature and to realize the potency of God's power. Standing up there, I felt so small and insignificant but oh so close to my Maker. That's the only way to describe it. It was awesome.

Getting off the mountain wasn't so smooth though. My patella popped out of place and I had to slowly tiptoe down the mountain which took AGES. Thankfully, Jared came prepared with an ace bandage so I wrapped my knee and told myself to suck it up and walk. It really felt like we were never going to get down the mountain. The others were far ahead of us, so far in fact that they were able to make it to supper. We didn't.

As soon as we got off the mountain, I hurriedly wobbled over to the church where I had orchestra practice with a growling stomach and feeble body but still had a great time. I will forever remember my moment with God on the top of that mountain. I could see myself climbing it again, but not for a very long time...

I know this has been a long blog- but I promised I would write about all the interesting things that happen to me on this journey so here goes:

Last night,Thursday, a group of us went into town for some "real food" not that the cafe food is fake, we were just still hungry :-p We ended up at a really neat restaurant (I forget the name) but the owners and the waiter were really nice, even helping us with our french speaking skills from time to time. We had a great time, laughing and talking enjoying every minute of being in France.

After we finished we headed back. It was about midnight and it took us 15 min to reach the school. The boys went to their dorm and us girls continued our walk to La Clairiere, our home for the year. We swiped our cards over and over but they didn't work to open the door! It's not like Southern, where there is always a desk worker. The dean leaves and that's it. No one is in the office. So we walked all the way across campus to Les Horizons to see if maybe the guys' dean could let us in. No such luck. We saw one open window and light shining, so we decided that may be the boys' room. After calling them down (their cards worked fine of course) and realizing there was no way we would be able to get back inside of our dorm rooms, the boys kindly offered to bring down a sleeping bag, sweaters, blankets and even socks! and sleep outside with us. So that is what we did. We star gazed, my first time, and saw a shooting star. We laughed, and joked. After finally drifting to sleep, sometime later someone's alarm went off but we drifted back to sleep until... we heard a noise in the grass that kept getting louder and louder! My heart was beating so fast, I was imagining ferocious teeth tearing me apart, so I sank deeper into the blankets. One of the boys got up to see what or whom the sound was coming from and it turned out to be...a wild boar! It was huge, and beastly! (no pun intended) So we decided to get up and move. Thankfully everyone made it safely back to their dorm rooms and no one was hurt or wounded and for that I am grateful.

Until my next adventure,

Ciao!

The Beginning

I left the Orlando airport on Sunday at 5:30pm and flew into Memphis, TN then quickly hopped on a HUGE plane, 239 people apparently (I'm used to allegiant planes) flew for about 8 hours a few of which I was either sleeping or watching movies (by the way, The Proposal & 17 Again are hilarious!) then we finally landed in Amsterdam, Holland at 2:30 pm the next day. To my surprise everything was in english! I really thought I would have a hard time understanding but obviously everything was fairly simple to understand. Since it was my first flight to Europe by myself, I was, naturally a little nervous so seeing signs and directions in english helped out a lot.

Upon landing in the Geneva airport I was met by a theology major, Benjamin. He smiled and welcomed me in English while I responded back in French( I hear the French like you better, Americans, if you at least try to speak to them in their language). Didier and I being on the same flight were discussing how excited we were while waiting for another student to arrive. Rachelle, my soon-to-be roommate, was standing quietly off to the side. I approached her and introduced myself and soon learned that she was studying in Austria but was wanting to study french and it's history to add to her repertoire in addition to the german she already spoke.

After purchasing my first salad in europe (which I might add was delicious) Scott, from Walla Walla arrived and we proceeded to leave the airport and Geneva, a short 10-15 minute ride to collonges. We quickly passed the Swiss border and into France we entered. I was excited and could hardly believe it...

So far, I have walked around the campus of Collonges and have trekked up and down the wretched, yes wretched mountain of a climb to town four times now and even done a little hiking through the woods, which by the way resembles Narnia and makes me feel like I should be in a movie of some sort. I haven't quite figured out how to make it up Saleve, the mountain that I see every morning through my window, but when I do I'll be sure to record that adventure.

This town is so darling with it's white-haired, tan old men in overalls tending to the corn fields, it's old and modern buildings with their unique cottage-like architecture with colored shutters on most of the houses and lush green fields that seem to stretch out to the horizon. It's peaceful here and the people have been for the most part friendly towards us foreigners. It is only the third day and already I feel as if I truly belong here. The people, the lifestyle, the language...Didier's father was spot on when he mentioned to me a few weeks ago that I would love France. I can't wait to see what else is in store for me on this journey.

Until next time,

Salud!

Closer and Closer...

So far I've packed and re-packed everything for my trip, oh I'd say about 10 times now (no exaggeration).
I know, I know but that's how nervous I am about leaving something important behind. Can't forget the lady essentials, ya know what I mean? Ha.

I can't believe it. I am finally going to France! I've been wanting to go since I was 14. Initially, the plan was to go to Italy but then I realized that I would come back to the US of A and not use a lick of the language so...I decided to stick to my childhood dream and get back to my roots so France, here I come!

It's really funny to me that I have a blog. I'm not much of a blogger, in fact I will admit that I haven't thought highly about bloggers but in this case I make an exception. I'm leaving the country and people want to know what I am doing I guess. I'll try to keep it updated as much as I can.

I am the type of person who always trys to imagine what a new experience will be like. This, however is huge. I have no idea what to expect, except for bits and pieces the pioneers before me have experienced. I keep hearing that no matter what people tell me, the experience of studying abroad is obviously different for everyone but one thing is for sure: you come back with a whole new outlook on life, which is pretty much what I might be needing at this point in my life. I'm excited to learn about a different culture and way of life. I know it will be vastly different then what I'm used to but I'm ready for a change. So here's to leaving to France in about...eight days! Bring it on!!!

Later folks,
;]