Courage

Living in Slovakia hasn't been rainbows and happy ducklings the whole time I've been here. Despite what the posts and pictures may say, living here sometimes becomes really hard. There have been times here that have been unbelievably rough, and I've needed help. I've had so many people, expected and unexpected, come out and tell me that I can do this, and that coming here was so courageous, that they'd never be able to do it. I am truly honored and flattered that I have so many people lifting me up and telling me they are on my side. I really need to recognize more often how much I am blessed. 

But I promised myself that these blogs would always be honest.The truth is that leaving my home wasn't all that difficult. Saying see you later to my friends who I knew I'd see again wasn't that scary. I was excited to go. All my friends had their new purposes and places and I did too. I was really happy to be able to immerse myself in a completely new culture, language, continent, and group of people. What I didn't realize was how much I was sacrificing  my culture, language, continent, and my entire group of people. 

I'm not saying I don't keep bits and pieces of it with me, because I certainly do. I still connect with loved ones every day, I can speak English to my roommate and my entire department at school, and it's not hard to feel American when I get care packages of Doritos and have pictures all around me of home. But it's real work to do that. It takes effort every single day to connect with anything familiar, to feel like I'm still valuable to people who are thousands of miles away from me. But I'm not unhappy, and this isn't a plea for help. All I am saying is that it didn't take much courage to leave my life back in Texas, but it's taking all of the courage I've ever had to want to stay. 

It is very important to me that it is clear that I am extremely grateful, honored, and blessed to even have the opportunity to come here. To be encouraged by so many people to go make a difference and to have people watching out for me and helping me from both sides of the Atlantic. I just didn't realize that I'd ever feel isolated here. It absolutely occurred to me that I'd be one of few Americans in the city. But part of me expected to meet them all and become best friends with them the first week. I also convinced myself that everyone back home would talk to me every single day and nothing would really change. I didn't consider that impractical. I thought it was going to be really easy.

I think tremendous good is coming out of this experience. I am learning to be truly independent and self-reliant. I am learning about who I am as a person, and who I am as an American. I thought I was challenged and changed when I lived in England in college, but that is completely incomparable to this. It is radically different, and much more difficult. I struggle with the language barrier multiple times a day. This is not a country that you go to expecting to be catered to in English. Some things I simply can not do because I am not familiar enough with the language. This language isn't similar to German, it's much more like Russian, and all of those Spanish classes I took are irrelevant here. If anything it makes things more confusing.

The cultural differences are massive too. Sometimes relating to co-workers and students is impossible. But somehow I get by day to day. I'm going to start seeking out a Slovak tutor because I really hate living in a constant state of confusion every time I'm doing something new in a public place. I also think it would help me seem more considerate of my co-workers and the people around me. I would be able to do more on my own and feel more connected here.

This post is not a letter to the world asking for a big banner to be put up that says I'm super special for being a little courageous. Honestly it is a post to the world talking about how much I'd love to fit in *in this culture* and that even though I haven't reached that yet, I'm doing just fine. I really do love it here. Slovaks are very proud people in a great way. They don't brag the way Americans do sometimes, but if you ask them about some tradition or cultural practice they burst with energy and excitement. I love learning from them and being able to embrace the way they do things. It is opening me up to a world that is more than I knew before, reminding me that different can be very beautiful, and that not everything in America is the right way or the better way.

So Why Am I Even Here?

I've been pondering the title of this post for over a week now, thinking about how it sounds a little too scary and saturated with frustration or contempt. But it is honest, and exactly what I need to say. What I mean by this is something completely different than you probably think, but I need you to be patient through the next few paragraphs for me to be able to explain.

       What is this adventure I am on anyway? Is it a Mission Trip, is it just a job, is it that stereotypical early twenty-something going to Europe to find themselves? Is is a combination, or is it something completely different? Why am I here? What am I meant to do here?

       The answer to those questions hasn't been clear to me at all. When people donated to this trip I think there was some sort of romanticized sense (even with me) that I would be going to some underprivileged-barely functional school to teach kids who otherwise wouldn't get an education at all. That is far from the truth.

     The truth is that I'm a a young graduate with a degree in Non-Profit work that is employed teaching English and History to the 6th most prestigious high school in the country. This is despite having taken neither of those subjects in college and having barely any experience in a classroom. I didn't realize that, and I didn't realize how privileged these students were going to be. I've only met two graduates. One works in the city center here in town and the other is in his first year at Cambridge. They aren't suffering, and they accomplished that without any of my help.

     Before you go and get upset, thinking I'm some sort of sham, I need you to know that I certainly do think I have a mission here and do have a purpose to serve in this place. It's just far from the stereotype of the shoe-less children standing with their young teacher in the dirt in front of the one-room school house. These students don't look at me as this rich-privileged American with a perfect life. They clearly see through me and my nation's flaws. They think Americans are a little crazy but I've never heard a single one talk about being envious of us or our way of life. But I didn't come here to be flattered, and I didn't come here to show anyone that America is better. I came here to... I guess just teach.

      But teaching is a job in America right? Why is teaching here any different? Why is being a teacher in this frankly, random country (from an American perspective) so worthy of being a service job for the ELCA? For the first few weeks I couldn't tell you the answer to that. I most certainly couldn't tell you why I am here.

      When I first arrived I was greeted warmly by both the ELCA and Slovak staff. The school staff wouldn't stop talking about how excited they were for us to be there, and that they've been praying for us since before the last teachers even left. I was wondering why. Why am I so important? I'm certainly not the only one qualified to teach English in this school. They brought us to our flat, showed us where the grocery store was, and let us go. We spent the first few days getting comfortable and exploring a bit, still trying to figure out why it is that I'm here.

      I began meeting co-workers, a few students, and important people to the school community. They were all VERY happy that we were here. I don't know why. It felt a bit like we were the puppies someone brought home and everyone is excited to watch us chase our tails and try to bark. We certainly weren't zoo animals on display or anything, but I found it odd how many people just wanted to meet us, when the only thing different about us was where we came from. It got even more confusing when I realized that there is an entire English Department, and many fluent English-speaking teachers, some even with Master's Degrees. I thought that was my job, and these people likely know better English than I do.

     Time went on and classes started, I struggled awkwardly through my first few weeks of meeting students and trying to remember what my teachers did when I was in school. It was really hard. For those few weeks I didn't care why I was there, I just didn't want to get fired for doing something wrong. Homesickness set in, I was the loneliest I've ever been. I'm alone in another continent with everyone I love still in America. I felt stupid for leaving, and trapped with the feeling of no being qualified as a teacher or informed enough about the topics I was teaching. I struggled to get out of bed. More than ever I was beating myself up, thinking 'why am I even here'.

   It is important that you remember that this is a blog and not some brilliant short-story about me seeing God. I'm here to be honest, and I didn't have any fancy epiphany or song that made me break down in church and see what was obvious all along. I worked at it. I thought about it all the time. Every single thing I did or learned I kept pushing my brain to tell me where it fit in the bigger picture.  I felt immense guilt that I was wasting away the money that people donated for me to come here because I wasn't doing any good with it. I have been avoiding Facebook because I don't have any of those 'I made someone's day' posts that I really wanted to have so people would know they were right to invest in me. I tried to be nice and give food to a homeless lady and she didn't even want it.

      Finally the answer came to me. But it didn't come in this fancy box, during hours of meditation, and certainly not during that one time I gave a bag of food from the store to that homeless lady and she chased after me to give it back. I think part of my purpose here is to teach Slovak people English and a bit about America. But I think much more of my purpose is to teach my American community/donors/family about  the world here. It's not backwards, it's not wrong, I didn't come here to save anyone's day or be a national hero.

     I think I came here to be shocked at how happy people can be that aren't doing things 'the American way'. I truly believe that when I applied to the Central Europe Teaching Program the recipient was me more than it is them. These people do need, and they do value American teachers for our clear pronunciation, cultural diversity, and general knowledge of how English works without really thinking about it. However, maybe the people that are more in 'need' are the ones reading this right now. Not that any of you are homeless, illiterate in English, or ignorant people by any means. But learning a bit about how the world works from a part of the world many of you can't even find on a map (which I was guilty of too) is not going to hurt anybody. We hear in church all the time about loving our neighbors, well these are my neighbors, and maybe through this blog they can begin to feel like yours too.

P.S.
    In the midst of my struggle to discover my purpose here I was digging through the crumbled, ripped pages of a class set of Tom Sawyer books that I planned to assign to the class. The books are a wreck. They look decades old and they are used all the time. I went to my vice principal about it to see if there were any other copies I could use. She told me that was the case with most books here, and there isn't anything they could do about it until the end of the year. This really frustrated me, and I really didn't know what to do about it. These kids need to do 3 literature units a year but they can't do it if they can't even use the book.

    I remembered then that I had been blessed with bit of money given to me by generous donors to use while I am here. So far, that money has gone only to food, clothes, and necessary transportation, but I don't suspect I will be running out anytime soon. With that being said, for anyone who is interested in helping me replace a few sets of books for the English library, please let me know. I have record of each person who has donated to me, and the amount that they have been given. If anyone feels that their donation would be rightfully served by helping pay for replacement books, please let me know. I know the students would be very very grateful. I might even be able to get your name written on a bookshelf or in the books themselves. 

Let's Have a Long Talk About Culture

I am almost done with my first week here. My students range from 10 to 18, and as an icebreaker I asked them what they knew about America. The ten year old's just laughed so I didn't even get them to answer me. Many of my other students said that we hate Russians, we eat too much fast food, we are loud, we all have guns and shoot people, that Donald Trump is an idiot, and that all of our houses are made of wood so no wonder Hurricane Harvey ruined them all.  I wasn't expecting to be flattered by their views of America, but I didn't expect to be so sobered by the blunt and consistent opinions that they have. Everything they said tended to be negative, and it makes me think that we might need to take a look at ourselves and our priorities and reevaluate the ways that we want to be seen by the global public.

Many people want to know what I think about Slovakia. Honestly, I am just amazed at how different it is from the United States. Everyone has their washing machines either in their kitchen or their bathroom. All of the buildings are hundreds of years old, and made of heavy, sturdy brick, and most of them are COVERED in graffiti. The roads are narrow because the cars are very small compared to ours. The cars that we would make fun of for size in the States, are standard here. There are no trucks whatsoever, even in industry, and the cars often park over the sidewalks because there is no where to park in the street. I don't know where I am supposed to walk when I go down a street like this. Everyone said that the meals would be smaller, but that is not my experience at all. I have yet to be able to finish a meal in a restaurant here, the food is so rich and heavy. It's a very meat and potatoes culture.  

The way that the stores are set up is very interesting. They have huge, long isles just for yogurt, and very odd cuts of meat. They don't eat very much beef, and rely mostly on pork, chicken, and other meats that I don't have the heart to ask the identity of. The cheeses are all confusing, I don't know what any of them are, but all of the ones that I've tried are very sharp. So I haven't been eating much of it. There is a lot of dried sausage here, it tastes kind of like pepperoni, It's not my favorite. The beer is SO CHEAP. They come in big plastic jugs and cans and are sold for pennies compared to what ours is sold for. 

They have hard liquor in the grocery stores out in the open. They have a separate store for buying magazines and tobacco. They also don't have much of any health products in the stores, they get their own stores. If you want any kind of pills, vitamins, sleeping pills, anything, you have to go to the drug store. Separately, they have stores for soaps, deodorant, makeup, hair care, and things like that. And of course, clothing is it's own store, as is electronics, toys, or mechanical/car things. The rare exception to this rule are the massive Tesco Extras on the edge of the cities that have everything together. They are kind of like a mall. To me it is a fantasy land because I can actually get everything I need in one place. 

The restrooms here are tiny. Often, the room with the toilet (called the toilet) is it's own room, and the room with the bath/shower, sink, vanity, etc. is next to it (called the bathroom). In public places they will be found together like in the States, and will commonly be labelled either 'toilet' or WC (Water Closet). 

Many people rely on the local markets for their produce instead of grocery stores, and for good reason. Everything is always cheaper there. Saturday mornings are when I go, and are the busiest days, but I've been told they also have the best selection. I go at about 10:30 in the morning and it is VERY crowded. Each vendor has their own table and display with huge varieties of produce. Some vendors share tables and you have to hold the produce up and the vendor will extend their hand to weigh your bag and show you the price on a calculator. All I hear when I am at the market is "next Apache". I'm sure that's not how the phrase is spelled, but it basically means 'how may I help you', and anytime you walk by a vendor, regardless of whether or not you approach it, or make eye contact, they will yell it at you. 

Many vendors sell the exact same produce, so you have to pay close attention to their quality and price per kilo. I tend to be fairly random with my selection. I just go to the market, see what looks yummy, think about whether or not I can eat it before it goes bad, and go from there. They also have a man in a tiny little van that opens up into an espresso stand and he puts chairs behind it right next to the doors of the old church that the market is set up in front of. Just about every other vendor sells flowers as well, and most of the plants that I've bought for my garden come from there. It is also a fantastic place to buy homemade jams and fresh honey. 

     Unless someone needs help, people won't come up to you on the street, and small talk doesn't really exist. Most buildings that weren't built in the past few years will not have an elevator, even if they are 20 stories tall. There is also rarely ever A/C in buildings, and I have yet to see a ceiling fan. That might be one of the reasons why everyone is so skinny here and I never see people working out, or wearing any sort of athletic clothes. Most people that live in cities live in very tall apartment complexes all over town. Some areas seem to be apartment complex neighborhoods, where there would be 10-20 complexes next to each other. The ones here are all pastel and every one has a porch with flowers on it. There aren't really any row house type neighborhoods that I've seen so far, it's all apartments unless you live in cottages in the neighboring villages. 

      The culture of the school is not what I expected at all. The students come in and immediately go into this room on the right to change into their school shoes so that they don't bring in dirt/mud. Then they go to class. The school has 9 periods- zero hour through 8th, and they stay with the same students the entire time. So the classmates that you're with in your first day of your first year at the school are in every single class with you until the day you graduate. Many of the grade levels have several classes within them. The only exception to this is P.E. which is done by gender. Students test into the school, and are required to understand a certain level of English to get here. I teach the Prima's their Conversational English course for one class a week, they are ten years old. 90% of the time they will only speak Slovak, and the few that do speak English seem to rule the class because they spend all of their time translating. 

Each grade level and class has their own room and spend most of their classes in that room. We have two separate lunch periods and the time you go to lunch determines when your 6th period starts. Classes don't run through syllabus at all. The teacher is given a 'year plan' which is written by one of the teachers then approved by the state, and each lesson plan is based off of that. The older the students get, the more that the Year Plans are based off of the Maturita (their version of the SAT) so that they get the best scores possible. Our school always does very very well on it. 

       Last but not least is church. I was very confused by it. Here in Slovakia they don't call Lutherans Lutherans. They are the Evangelicals, so even finding where the church was on Google was difficult because I kept searching for a Lutheran Church. The church service itself was also very confusing. I walked in expecting to enter a Narthex or some sort of entrance room, but I was already in the sanctuary. In the middle of the isle was this really long box with a bunch of holes in it where you put your offering, and then sit down. There is no bulletin. I looked around to see if there were doors to the restroom or a kitchen or something, but I'm pretty sure the church is just a sanctuary. I went and sat on the very very old wooden pews in the back of the church and they were very tight. When someone goes to stand their stomach hits the pew in front of them, no matter how big or small they are. The top of the pew has a little angled table for your hymnal and for praying. There is a kneeler near your feet. 

       Everything creaks, and the pews were very narrow, so the seat itself only went out a little over a foot. The service started and nothing was in English, but I thought I could manage my way through it without knowing anything. I kept looking around for the hymnals or a bookshelf of them and then realized that you bring your own. I ended up spending most of the service having no clue what was happening and just people watching while trying to think kind thoughts about Jesus. I stood up at the right times and pretended to pray at the right times, but I did my own prayer because I'm not going to pray for something that I didn't understand. The sermon was about 45 minutes long, and their was one song after it, and a blessing, we briefly 'passed the peace' and church was over. No communion. That baffled me. Another thing that baffled me were how many people came and went during the service. They'd stand in the back, put a coin into the offering, pray, and walk out. After church people just left. There was no real social hour, people weren't congregating. Everyone just went home. Not a single person came up to me or Elizabeth, or even smiled at us or said hello. I'm not really sure what I think of that yet. 

I have much more to say but I feel like I've typed a whole book out already. I am headed to Prague at the end of the week and am very excited to check another country off my list. Wish me luck! 

So What Happens Now?

This post has been a long time coming. It has been a combination of not being in the mood to write, exhaustion from walking around all day, and feeling confused about what to write. Y'all have already seen my first impressions post. All is good, pretty, very European. That interpretation or what Slovakia is has not changed. It has only grown.

The last time I posted on this blog I hadn't even arrived in my home of Kosice yet. I was still at training in the capital city of Bratislava, and I had no clue what to expect. I've been in this apartment for almost two weeks now and I still can't decide how to generalize it, the city, or my experience here. It is so overwhelming!

I will start from the beginning and try my BEST not to make this post several pages long. But I'm not well known for being straight to the point. 

My roommate Elizabeth and I left Bratislava with all of our baggage in tow on Friday. We took a 5 hour train directly to Kosice. I had no idea when I arrived at the train station with 130 pounds of luggage that there were no elevators or escalators in the train station. So walking all the way to the train involved going up and down 4 flights of stairs with all of my luggage and zero preparation. I was flustered. Luckily, I had help. Bless those men who helped me.

We arrived in the afternoon and were received by one of the vice principals, and the principal of the school. They greeted us warmly and took us straight to our flat. I had seen what it looked like via video chat with the previous tenant, but she didn't tell me that they'd be doing construction throughout the summer. So when we arrived to the front door, the apartment looked like this. (picture to the right)

Aside from the entrance, the flat is bliss. It is very well furnished, I have the dishes that I need, the bathtub is huge, there is a TOWEL WARMER. I feel so elegant just knowing my house has a towel warmer. It's so great. 

Kosice is a city of about 200.000 people. It has a breathtakingly beautiful city-center, and the atmosphere is pure freshness and relaxation. It is the most peaceful, clean, and inviting city center I've ever been in. Maybe it's because it's not a huge tourist destination. I have no problem keeping Kosice a secret. Despite being a city, and a European one, I haven't noticed crazy driving, a ton of smoking, or litter everywhere. The people in this city seem to genuinely care about it. That is, except for the less-than-artistic graffiti gangs. I don't appreciate them. 

Kosice is the type of place where you walk or ride public transport basically everywhere. 10 minutes on a bus 2 blocks from me takes me to the city center. 15 minutes on a tram the other direction takes me to the huge supermarket. A 5 minute walk from my flat towards the city center is the most quaint little market I've ever seen. They sell fruits, vegetables, flowers, honey/jams and wicker baskets exclusively. I love going there because not only are the prices better than at the store, I am very into supporting small businesses. The photo to the right is what I picked up last Saturday. 

Some people might be surprised by this, but I still haven't started teaching yet. The first week we were here we spent the days sitting in our office trying to get things organized and figure out what supplies we'd need. This week we have been working 6 hours a day on lesson plans. I will be teaching 8 courses, and 17 classes per week. Some classes will meet once a week, and others twice. The classes are various levels of English Conversation courses, as well as U.K. and U.S. Social Studies. 

I teach in a bilingual school that offers two programs- 5 years, and 8 years. The 8 years start at 10 years old and graduate at about 18 or 19. The 5 years start at about 13 (our 8th grade) and graduate at about the same time.The grades have funny names based in Latin like Prima and Kvinta. I'm not going to bore you with what they mean. I am finally getting a hang of it and I've been working on it for two weeks. These students do not take classes together, and are tested into the school (so yes, they do already speak English). I am not teaching them how to speak English, and I am also not grading them on their grammar. My classes are based on discussion and English conversation. My aim is to improve their verbal English fluency in order for them to do well on the mandatory Slovak College Entrance Exam: the Maturita.

The Maturita is similar to the SAT, but they offer it in Slovak, English, and German, it is required, and it has both a written and oral component. The goal with this school is to get students into the best colleges possible, so they start focusing their studies on Maturita topics at a very early age. The principal told me last week that there are 702 schools in Kosice, and ours consistently ranks within the top 10. It's a lot of pressure for a girl fresh out of college who has a degree in Social Entrepreneurship. 

Outside of working on lesson plans and trying to keep the house in order, I try to spend as much time as I can keeping up with loved ones and exploring the city. I've spent a good amount of time in the city center, going through the shops and cafes. Kosice has SO MANY CAFES. The food here is very meat and potatoes. I've been here for 18 days and I have yet to have been served something green for a meal. Don't tell my family this, but I kind of MISS IT. Mostly green beans and broccoli, but if my grandma found out that's all I'll be eating at her house for the rest of my life. The market is mostly raddishes, onions, potatoes, and things I've never seen before. So I'm going to have to get desperate and eat something from a can. It's still a vegetable if it's from a can right? 

It's 7 hours ahead of Texas time here. Just typing the word 'Texas' makes me sad because of all the horror and sadness happening back home with Hurricane Harvey. I am not going to dwell in it, and I am not going to make this post all about it, but I am going to spend quite a bit of my personal time reflecting on how lucky and privileged I am to be here and be safe. I don't have clothes to donate, I don't have money to send, but I do have positive thoughts and prayers. Today Elizabeth told me that she'd like to go tour St. Elizabeth's Cathedral downtown because it was the middle of the day and a great time to see it. Of course I made us late and we walked in right in the middle of mass.

I was so embarrassed. I hid in the back and walked around as I heard the congregation sing their hymns in a language I had no hope of understanding, and I found this little box. In the box were these candles and for each 50 pence you put in, a candle would light for 5 minutes. Usually I see these and I think of so many things I'd like to pray for or about that I just skip it and move along, but this time I only had one thing on my mind. I pulled 50 pence from my coin purse and stuck it in the little slot, and lit a candle for Texas. I hope you find a bit of time in your day to light a candle for Texas in your own way. 

Dobre Den Slovakia

I'm writing this post from the comfort of my dormitory at the Lutheran Seminary in Bratislava. The view in front of me as I type this is among the most peaceful I've ever seen. I've already eaten lunch and most of my loved ones back home are just now getting up. I think the time difference will continue to be weird for a while. 

I think it's pretty obligatory that I talk a bit about my journey over here, and how I made it to the Seminary. I flew out of Houston at about 4pm Saturday and had a very uncomfortable 9.5 hour flight into Paris despite getting about 3 hours of sleep thanks to my bizarre blow-up travel pillow (pictured below) and an unwise amount of Melatonin. 

Once I arrived I was so sore I couldn't stand up straight, and could barely walk. Reluctantly, I hobbled into a pleasant, unassuming massage kiosk near my gate. 20 minutes, and $30 (and a Pull and Peel Twizzler) later I walked to my gate feeling lighter and more relaxed than before I'd even left. Unfortunately it did nothing to alleviate the jet lag.

At about 12:30 my flight to Vienna took off, and I thought I'd try a neck brace instead of a blow-up pillow (pictured below). I fell asleep immediately after take off and woke up 5 minutes before landing. My neck felt great. However, after more than 16 hours of travel not including wait times, all I wanted was some sleep. I arrived in Vienna and within 15 minutes of landing I was already being loaded into the shuttle to Bratislava with my co-workers. 


I made it to the Seminary at about 4pm Sunday Bratislava time. I was beyond thrilled to be there because I knew I'd have two hours to sleep, but after carrying 112kg worth of luggage up three stories to my dorm, all I wanted to do was tell people I've arrived. I was so proud that I'd arrived. 

I went to dinner at a restaurant directly across the street from the President's Mansion. It is a beautiful estate, too bad the President doesn't even live there. I finally made it to my room and to bed at about 10pm, and woke several times throughout the night. I gave up and got ready for the day at 6:30, and went out on the porch. It's generally around 70 degrees here, and the breeze is divine. I couldn't get enough of it. I even kept the door open all night because we don't have A/C (don't worry, no creepy crawlers or peeping Toms where I am). 

Today was my first Slovak lesson, and man, I am struggling. We have only covered days of the week, numbers, and a few colors and it is so mentally taxing that it's giving me headaches. All of the water here is carbonated and room temperature, so staying hydrated is a battle as well. I'm forcing myself as well as I can, but that stuff is just gross. The meals have all been meat and potatoes (no complaints there), and the staff at the seminary are just charming. I'm having a great time here, no homesickness quite yet.

I just came back from an exhausting 5 mile hiking tour of the Bratislava's Old Town. It was elegant, quaint, clean, and quiet. I would recommend it to everyone. It was more peaceful that I could have ever imagined and has this appeal that makes it seem forgotten, but in a very beautiful way. None of the images I've posted thus far have been edited in any way other than cropping and sizing to accommodate the blog. I'm not speaking on my photography skills, but simply that this is how gorgeous this country really is. Please come see it, we would love to have you!

As a send-off I'd like to challenge y'all to a bit of Slovak. Look up a video on the numbers 1-10 and send me a video of you trying to pronounce it. For each video (either through Snapchat, Facebook Messenger, or Whatsapp, I will send you a piece of delicous Slovak candy! This offer ends at the end of the week so get to studying! 

It's Getting Real Y'all

Apologies for the informal title, but that is really what I've been thinking lately. I've compiled all of my visa paperwork, I have begun gathering the things that I'll be packing, and my car has been sold. I'm sitting on my bed killing time before one of my best friends (Emily Braun) returns to spend our last evening together for at least another year.

My other good friends are either on their way to their new jobs out of state, or are spending the weekend celebrating their last vacation before graduate school. It's extremely sad to realize that everyone I know and care about will be going in such radically different directions in their lives. It's heartbreaking, but it's also genuinely beautiful because it shows how unique we are, and how all sorts of different paths can lead to fulfillment in our lives.

There was no secret contest between friends to see which one of us would end up furthest away from home, but if it were I'd win two or three times over. I am the only one of my friends leaving the country, yet I don't feel in any way that my journey will be any more or less difficult or fulfilling than my peers. I'll be honest, knowing that there is only one other person in my entire college class doing something similar to this is really scary. Going to a place that speaks no English, surrounded by nothing and no one familiar is starting to sink in. About 5% of the time I find that realization thrilling and invigorating, but 95% of the time it makes me so nervous that my stomach turns and my palms start to sweat.

I've noticed that I haven't taken much time this summer to reflect on my upcoming move. Each time I start to think about it and begin getting nervous I remember a task that I need to complete or something I need to buy. It certainly hasn't hit me yet that I'm leaving the continent for at least a year in just over a week. 

I will admit that I caught myself feeling very sad and nostalgic a few days ago while passing my old high school. I was on the way to deliver my car to its new owners, and took a turn that would lead me to the house that my friend Alaina lived in for the whole time I've known her. They were doing construction on the high school and seemed to be changing its entire facade. Alaina's parents had just sold the house to move out of town.
I'd never liked the car that I was selling, but getting out of it and handing the keys to the new owners gave me a feeling I've never felt before. It was an ugly combination of sadness, dread, and fear of change. I know that what I'm about to be doing is going to be the time of my life, but I find no shame in missing familiar things, and dreading the inevitable longing that I'll feel for them. 

I'm beginning to start the goodbye process with my friends and family. This is the part of this whole thing that gets me the most. I haven't cried a single time since before graduation, but I know this is going to hit me right in the heart. As I reflect back on my time abroad in England and think about the things and people that I longed for the most while I was there, I realized that I didn't miss my loved ones all that much, because the people that mattered were the ones I kept in contact with the whole time.

The things I missed the most was the land. The rolling hills and the cactus, the wildflowers and the sound of cicada's in the evenings that remind me of sitting on the front lawn of the farm with my grandparents. The smell of barbecue. If anyone could mail me those things that would be great! 

I've spent the last few minutes trying to come up with a fitting parting statement for this post. I kept coming back to this old Irish poem that I've been thinking of quite a bit as I get closer and closer to leaving. It goes by many names.

May the road rise up to meet you. 

May the wind be always at you back. 

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields 

and until we meet again, 

until we meet again. 

May God hold you in the palm of His hand, 

until we meet again. 

Leap of Faith- Orientation in Chicago

I'm sitting here at the ELCA Churchwide Office, listening to a wonderful speaker educate me on what it might mean to be a missionary. It doesn't mean what we used to think it means. It's not necessarily cool to still go out to the corners of the world and change their religion. It is all sorts of things now, and I'm not here to tell you which of those mission paths are right or wrong, I'm just here to tell you that I'm having a great time learning.

To be honest I am having a hard time being here. I am extremely anxious, and just about the only thing on my mind is the paperwork for my visa. I am PETRIFIED that I am forgetting something, or that I wont get it done in time. I move to a new continent in less than a month. I leave my whole life as I know it, and start something entirely new. The people, environment, food, culture, weather, it's all going to be different, and I haven't even thought about it yet. I'm just worried about being able to get there.

I could not be more lucky to be in the company of such wise, kind, and worldly people. The staff of the ELCA is blowing my mind with knowledge and hospitality. The building itself is not what I was expecting at all. From the outside it is just an office building, but when I walked in it looked like a museum. The way that the building is decorated with art is so unique, I've never seen anything like it, and I've only been in two rooms so far.

I've met my fellow new Central Europe Teachers! I'm so glad I'm not the only one with questions, or that doesn't have every single piece of paperwork done yet.

This is a scary place to be. Everyone has a different background but all of us are about to leave our entire lives. Some of us are going to be gone for at least 4 years, and some of us haven't even left the country before. Wow! That's a leap of faith.

If I dissected the different parts of what a leap of faith is I would say it starts with the idea to do it, then you weigh whether or not it's worth it, then you decide it is worth it, then you prepare, then you realize it isn't logical and it's really scary, then you do it, then you feel the exhilaration that you pulled it off, then you smile and realize that you are capable of a lot more than you thought you were, then you move on to something even bigger with even less hesitation.

I am in the part of the leap where I think I'm absolutely nuts. I am the happiest I've ever been in my entire life, and I'm taking all of those things that make me happy and leaving them on the opposite side of the world for a really long time. What is wrong with me? For now I'm just not going to worry about it. I'm going to have a great time, I'm going to trust that I'm here for a reason, and that's it.

My First Blog Post!

Hi Y'all,

It is a very hot and gross day here in Texas as I begin gathering things to pack for my journey in August. I only have 47 days left in Texas, and much too much to do. Shot records, birth certificate stuff, gathering clothes, buying school supplies like planners and sticky notes. It's a bit overwhelming.
 Luckily I managed to find a babysitting job that leaves me several days off per week to get things done and prepared for my adventure. I just try to take it task by task and not do too much in one day. Tomorrow will be blood work and taking change from church offerings to the bank, and Friday will probably be getting a physical and sending thank you letters to the churches who have supported me thus far.
In a few weeks I will be off to Chicago for a week of training and learning about the ELCA's Global Mission programs. If I'm lucky I will be able to bit of sightseeing, but who knows. My goal is to not get lost and not to forget any paperwork. Anything beyond that is a blessing.

I thought I would have more to say by now but I really don't. I'm just excited for the future!