Travel Musings

The beginning of the end...

2011-12-11T16:55:00.000Z

Wow, has it really been over a month since I last posted? I guess life got really busy in November: we had a four-day trip to Jordan and finals week, as well as pressure to do everything still on the checklist before the semester ended. :)
But that's all past now; I'm sitting at Ben Gurion airport, sprawled on the floor, waiting for my 8:00 flight. Am I sad to leave? Honestly, I'm in denial. It seems so comfortable to be here. I remember taking the taxi to Jerusalem when I got here, my eyes wide with wonder when we drove through a neighborhood bustling with solemn men wearing fur hats and black suits. Three months later, the ride to the airport hardly phased me. The thousand-year-old walls, the Muslim women wearing headscarves, the Jewish boys with their long curls...completely normal. And part of me is sure I'll be back within a year, joining some NGO or missions organization...renewing the friendships with Jews, Arabs, Americans, and Europeans who call Jerusalem home. I suppose time will tell.
For now, peace to you, Jerusalem! May joy and justice become the bywords of your people. Until we meet again,
Hannah

The House that Jesus Built

2011-10-30T11:47:00.000Z

Sorry this post has been so long in coming! We recently had a four-day trip to Galilee, Phoenicia, and the Golan Heights (north-eastern Israel). I really enjoyed the north: it's more small-town than the hill country, and the farther you go the more mountainous it is. Galilee itself was wonderful: I think that, no matter where I travel, lakes will always seem more like home. Here's one of my reflections from our day traveling the shoreline:

I never realized that Jesus had a home in Capernaum. Yet time and time again, the gospels say things like "he went and lived in Capernaum" (Mt 4:13), "coming to his own city" (Mt. 9:1), and even "When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home" (Mk 2:1). It seems Sunday-school teachers read the verse about foxes having holes and birds having nests, but "the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head," we develop this image of Jesus as a vagabond wanderer, never in the same place twice as a huge, raggedy crowd trails him like an overgrown shadow. In reality, he settled in Capernaum, had a house (perhaps built it himself), and probably took day trips around Galilee to teach in the synagogues and on the hills. He likely spent much of his time earning a living, building houses in the surrounding villages and cities. People knew where he lived – his name was all over the region – and surely there were always a handful of boys peeping into his door and loitering around his favorite places by the sea. There must have been a constant flow of people coming to his house seeking healing, advice, or learning. Beggars likely stopped by for some breakfast and a kind word. On top of all these, Jesus likely invited tax collectors and sinners over for a meal (Mt. 9:9) – an even more inflammatory practice than visiting their homes. How have we missed out on this?? The fact that Jesus lived somewhere opens up many more opportunities for him to show love and speak truth than if he was constantly on the go.
This paints an entirely different picture of ministry and outreach. The combination of wanderer-Jesus and missionary-Paul has taught me that the best Christians – the holiest, most selfless ones — never have a permanent home, but are continually traveling, forever at the mercy of others for their own sustenance, endlessly preaching to strangers in strange lands. Maybe "really living like Jesus" is much more...ordinary.

Until the next adventure,
Hannah

The Meritorious, the Bizarre, and the Pondersome

2011-10-14T13:09:00.000+01:00

Well, this is our second weekend without a field study. Life's pretty normal around here — if you consider going out for falafel, walking through Bethlehem, and tending pomegranate trees weekly activities. :) Several of my friends left this afternoon to camp in Galilee at Mt. Tabor (jealous!) but, alas, I must finally acknowledge my 3 term papers. I'm hoping to get a good start on them today.

Since I've nothing spectacular to report, I've made up a list of a few facts that I've found noteworthy while here – some of them pertain to JUC and others I've just picked up in class.

The building I live in was a Jewish outpost in "dead-man's-land" between Jordanian and Israeli territory until the War of '67. Soldiers' names and drawings are carved into the floor stones.

There is a first-century tomb in and apartment in the JUC building complex. The current inhabitants have turned it into a guest-bed.

Ray Vanderlaan attended JUC!!

A famous(ly genius) archeologist, Flinder Petrie, generously decided to donate his incredibly gifted mind to science after his death. His wife, following his wishes, decapitated his body, but his head was lost during WWI. His body is buried in the Protestant Cemetery owned and maintained by JUC. Snapdizzle.

Horatio Spafford, who composed "It is Well with My Soul," is also buried behind JUC.

I learned in my "Rabbinic thought" class that Jewish believers do not equate the Creation serpent with Satan. They understand Satan as God's high prosecutor, not as a fallen or evil angel.

According to my Palestinian politics professor, Gaza was the first "Christian city" in the world. Today the population in the Gaza strip is 1% Christian due to modern emigration.

An Israeli and an expert on Egyptian society and politics, my professor Dr. Yinon has a very positive view of the recent Arab revolutions. He argues that, "The (Egyptian) Muslim Brotherhood is not as radical as they seem." He expects positive change to overflow into the Levant as well (Israel, Lebanon, Jordan, Syria).

The oldest preserved Hebrew inscription was discovered by a JUC student in 2008. It's dated to the Solomonic era (10th century BC). It refers to "the king," and calls for justice for the slave, widow, orphan, and stranger.

The Herodian desert palace of Masada was the first location to utilize volunteer excavators and cater to archeological tourism (by doing reconstruction, opening to the public, etc.).

The greatest "holy sites" protected by Greek Orthodox churches (such as the birthplace in Bethlehem and Golgotha in Jerusalem) are actually pretty plausible locations, especially since the tradition of Christian preservation in these sites goes back to the first century.

Interestin' stuff!

Until the next adventure,

Hannah

Atonement and the Kotel Mob

2011-10-07T13:43:00.005+01:00

I went to the Western Wall last night with a couple of grad students: we left at 11pm and got back at 2am! It was crazy: the most crowded place I've ever been in in my life. When we got there, they were beginning a liturgical reading: there were 3 rabbis singing most sections, and they were broadcast on a big screen. The thousands of people in the square chanted/sang the collective parts in the liturgy. It was really interesting: a ton of Israeli's come to the western wall (kotel). But it was just a contrast to see some obviously devout Jews, chanting the whole liturgy and bowing reverently (as they do), while at the same time a group of edgy secular teens slide through the crowd as if oblivious to all going on around them. After the hours of liturgy ended, we started moving as a giant mass towards one of the exits. The horde got stopped by security officials that blocked off a path for the head-hancho rabbis (with their secret service accompaniment), as if it were some movie premier. Sans cheering, but plenty of cameras were out! We ended up in a game of human pingpong as the moshpit funneled its way through the narrow gate. Oh my gosh it was so fun!!! Everyone was pushing, but no one was impatient or angry...it seemed like the mindset was, "Hey, no personal space! Near-stampede! No big deal!" Ha. It reminded me of Black Friday, a huge concert festival, and the Fourth of July all mixed into one.

The Days of Awe leading up to Yom Kippur are all about repentance. All throughout the Jewish Quarter, there are charities set up asking for donations. You can pay five bucks to have a chicken shaken over your head: it will take on your sins, then it's killed and given to the poor. Or you can just give the five bucks, and it does the same function. The Day of Judgment, of repentance (mostly of sins against others, like slander and such)...once a year. What's it comparable to in Christianity? Communion, I think – there's the same kind of attitude of asking for forgiveness and relying on the grace of God. And a lot of churches today (NMC!) do communion only 1-2 a year. Do we take our own sin so seriously as the Jews do? We don't swarm the altar, praying for hours and fasting to show our sincerity. Granted, we have confidence that our sins have been forgiven...but I think I at least should beware of downplaying my own sin ("oh well, God loves to forgive"). Only when we fully realize the severity of our sin can we fully love our Atonement.

And how sad is it that they go through all these rituals/customs that are, in the end, meaningless. I mean, can one really believe that their sins are taken away by a chicken-shaking?? And every year, they are back to square one–"whew, God's gonna give me another chance"–but in the end, its judgment day again and again. Watch out, do everything right or God will not forgive you. As I stood among thousands of Jews carrying out the traditions of centuries, praying to God for their souls, it was really hard for me to feel any kinship with them. Christianity is so different from Judaism. Its missing the most integral part.

Dead Sea, Sinkholes, and Eocene Cisterns

2011-10-04T22:16:00.005+01:00

This weekend we had a three-day trip around the southern half of Israel. We visited a few archaeological sites, including the impressive coastal Canaanite city of Ashkelon (which boasts the oldest surviving arched gateway in the world), the wilderness fortress of Masada (where the last of the Jewish rebels held out against the Romans after the destruction of the temple), and Arad (where I found a clay Canaanite pot handle!). We also took some time just to enjoy the region: swimming in the Mediterranean and Dead Sea, hiking in the Nahal Zin and En Gedi canyons. Here're some excerpts from my reflection assignments:

I really enjoyed Canaanite Arad, which is built in the middle of nowhere with no natural watersource...

"It's hard to imagine trying to live out there, completely dependent on a cistern with all the filth from the city at the bottom of it. See, for most cities or homes, all rainwater during the winter would drain into these man-made wells. They'd try not to disturb all the dead bugs, animal dung, and who-knows-what-else eventually sank down to the bottom. As you can imagine, by the end of summer — when the bucket scraped the chalky cistern bottom — the water would be pret-ty nasty. Every time we go somewhere where a cistern is the main water source, I can't help but think, "I wonder if these folks every had a chance to drink from a mountain spring! Would they have believed it could be the same liquid?" With cisterns in mind, Jesus' claim "I am the living water" takes on a whole new meaning: "living water" in Hebrew means, literally, a spring. He never runs dry and never grows stale. "

My second-favorite site (beat by Shiloh) is now Maktesh Ramon, a giant sinkhole...

"I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, but I suppose they resemble each other a bit. Maktesh Ramon is as long as the Grand Canyon, but a third as wide and deep. Still. It’s cool. After a short lecture there I found a trail leading into the canyon, and followed it until I could scramble onto an outjutting crag. I had a little devo time, which started out with some Bible-reading but ended up just being me sitting in silence — real silence, the kind that made my ears feel funny. But for the occasional birdsong or Israeli fighterjet, there really was no noise; it was my first silence since I’d gotten to Israel. Man, was it nice! I felt like I was back in Ireland, sneaking down to the black seacoast and to watch the sunrise over the sea."

I've started getting bored of the same-old, same-old, so I decided to make my last impression report a bit more superfluous...

"...the Dead Sea: a place I anticipated with fear and trepidation. Refrain from all shaving! The smallest papercut will cause intense anguish and gnashing of teeth! A wayward splash will shrivel your eyeballs! These friendly words of wisdom were surely intended to elicit caution in the otherwise euphoric adolescents swarming to the shimmering waters. I however, did not take these dictums and fables with a grain of salt (pun intended), and I thus uneasily crawled along the crusty boulders into the tepid sea. Fraptious joy! The slight stinging in my scratched-up feet was thoroughly tolerable—nay, even revitalizing! The silky moonlight feel of the waters was delectable; the glassy void of the aquamarine depths mesmerizing; the popsicle reflection of the Jordanian cliffs magnificently scintillating. We explored, like thinly clad Neanderthals, along the inhospitable coastline. Coming across primordial pits of black, noxious ooze, we naturally ensued to slather it over our mineral-greased limbs. Is this what Israelis use for camo out here? They must have baby-soft cheeks."

Thoughts on a Ridge Route

2011-09-26T20:06:00.007+01:00

Yesterday was a lonng day. We circled the entire land of Benjamin, from Jerusalem to Jericho through Gibeon to Gezer, within sight of the Mediterranean. In retrospect, it was a lot cooler than it seemed at the time...mostly because I was wiped by the time we got done with our hour-long hike along the historic Ascent of Adummim.

The Ascent of Adummim connected Jerusalem and Jericho along a route that follows a canyon dotted by springs. A principle route of trade and travel, the Ascent is the setting of the story of Zaccheus, the healing of the blind beggar (Lk 18), and the Parable of the Good Samaritan. We hiked about 2.5 of the 15-mile route. It was a beautiful canyon, the home of circling birds and scurrying hyrax (mountain badgers) living in the scores of Byzantine monastic caves. The setting makes perfect sense for Jesus' parable, since there's nowhere really to evade robbers who could easily stake out in the small caverns. I was talking to a grad student the other day, and he gave me new insight into the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Some priests lived in Jericho and commuted to the temple in Jerusalem. Naturally, these priests were careful to remain ceremonially clean during their journey, since this was a requirement to perform their duties. Thus, when the priest and Levite passed the dying man on the way, they had to choose: would they follow the laws requiring purity, or the ones calling for charity? In this sense, Jesus was not condemning the cold-heartedness of religious leaders; he was indicating that acts of love are more important than legal standing before God. I think this reading makes a lot of sense within the context of the preceding question: "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus' reply is that one's character (i.e., the way I treat others) trumps one's piety checklist (daily devotions, church attendance, etc). Cool.

Like I said, I kinda checked out on the rest of the day. Jericho was only minimally excavated, though the fact that there's evidence of the walls falling outward is pretty interesting. There's a lot of bickering among archeologists as to the date of Jericho; theories range all over the place and a lot of them conflict with the traditional Joshua date. Whatevs, I said. Not worth getting my undies in a bundle over.

We also got some pretty good views of the land of Benjamin which only are interesting in light of biblical stories of conquest and such. But it rained! That was exciting. The first rains of the season, yeay! Soon enough I'll be complaining about the cold and the slippery wet, but for now its refreshing. I can't imagine how much more exciting it is for the people here who haven't seen rain for 5 months!

She come, she go. Shechem, Shiloh.

2011-09-19T09:10:00.001+01:00

I'm afraid I've neglected my blog for a whole week now, and it was actually a more eventful one. Along with visiting two organizations (PAIDIA and Musalaha) where I will be volunteering, I went on a hike with some West-Bank peers, visited a great prayer chapel across the valley, and went on another field study. More on each to follow when I get the chance!

For now I'll tell you about my field study. This week was Samaria: the northern region given to the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh after the Exile. We read the blessings of the covenant on Mt. Gerazim (Josh 8:30-35) and saw Herodian ruins at Sebaste, once a capital of Northern Israel. My favorite places were Shechem and Shiloh...

Shechem is in present-day Nablus, a West Bank city between Mt. Gerazim and Mt. Ebal. The ruins themselves are from the time of Joshua, during the Iron Age. Shechem was a city that incorporated itself into Israel without a conquest...why? Looking at all the biblical references to Shechem, it seems that it was the location where 1) Abram built an alter to the Lord under a sacred tree, 2) Jacob bought land and built another alter and a memorial pillar, 3) where Joshua gathered "all Israel, alien as well as native born", 4) and where Joshua renewed the covenant and set up large memorial stone in front of the worship center there. In the Mid-East, setting up an altar or temple is synonymous with claiming the land for one's god. Therefore, its unlikely that any of this "YHWH-worshipping" activity could've taken place without the approval of the local Canaanite population. Moreover, the principle ruin in Shechem is a fortified temple with a huge memorial stone in front of it. It's very likely that the people of Shechem (whether by Abram's example or by age-old tradition) worshipped God, the real God, and so when the Israelites returned from Egypt the locals joined them as fellow believers who had a complete picture of the God they'd always worshipped. Its a theory, of course, but it is an extremely plausible one.

I love the idea that there were pockets of 'gentiles' who still followed God, carrying on traditions of the sons of Noah, but ignorant of their God's name or his full character. Probably they were not monotheists, but they at least knew of this God and worshipped him the best they knew how. I can imagine the people of Shechem, streets hushed with somber fear caused by rumors of desert conquerors so powerful they took out Jericho and Ai. Days later, perhaps, a small delegation could be seen ascending slowly from the valley, led by Joshua, to the city gate. The anxiety of the Shechemites then turned to surprised relief when Joshua declared the claim of his ancestors on this land, and they realized that these invaders were returning descendants of the men who'd taught them to worship God. Twice Joshua read to all in Shechem – both natives and Israelites – the covenant and laws of Moses, and the people of Shechem renewed their commitment to serve the true God, YHWH.

'"You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him."

And they said, "We are witnesses."

He said, "Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your heart to the Lord, the God of Israel." ...And he took a large stone and set it up there under the terebinth (tree) that was by the sanctuary of the Lord.'

If the theory is true, then I saw that stone yesterday, half-broken but still standing on the dusty terrace. Shechem is the first place we've visited that expanded my understanding of the Old Testament. I loved it, and it makes me want to reread the OT with a keener eye on cities and their part in the narratives. Yay.

My other favorite of the day was Shiloh. Not pronounced "shy-low," apparently, but "she-low." Well then. Anyway, Shiloh is on a low hill (tel) between Shechem and Jerusalem. A rather out of the way location, Shiloh became the home of the tabernacle during the time of the Judges until it was captured by the Philistines. No one really knows where exactly the tabernacle had been, but I like to agree that it was on the north side of the hill, on a large flattened place sheltered from the fierce winds (tent+wind=kite). If so, the entrance surely would've been to the east, and pilgrims would have entered that way to bring annual sacrifices. Pilgrims like Elkanah, husband of Hannah. If you don't remember Hannah's story, read it sometime – its a great one for a namesake. :) After our lecture I went over and read the beginning of 1 Samuel, looking up every once and awhile to image her kneeling just there, praying silently, while Eli watched from his seat outside the entrance to the tent. I watched her climbing the hill a couple of years later, small child in tow, approaching Eli who sat as ever in front of the tabernacle. Hearing her testimony, he stood and worshipped the Lord with the child in his arms, and she placed her hand on her son's soft head, praising God with bittersweet tears of farewell to her son, Samuel. I've always liked the story of Hannah, and I felt super-lucky to remember it where it happened.

I stooped down where the Ark of the Covenant may have been and picked up a small stone. Shiloh looked very different from the pristine coloring-book pictures of young Samuel awake in the night. It's more lonely, peaceful, and open. The perfect place for an imposing Old-Testament Gandalf-prophet to grow up. :)

A primary mission of JUC is to make students excited about the Old Testament. It’s succeeding.

Student Activity Day

2011-09-11T20:22:00.003+01:00

I'm happy, tired, and still wearing my swimsuit from the day's festivities, but I thought I'd share the Sunday itinerary with ya'll:

6:15 alarm goes off.

6:27 I actually get out of bed.

7:00 bus leaves for Galilee.

7:53 get a close-up glimpse of the Dead Sea.

8:23 doze off.

9:21 arrive at a national park north of the Galilee.

9:29 slosh through the river "wet trail," play uno, climb a eucalyptus tree.

11:10 drive to a beach on Lake Galilee; have a picnic lunch; build human pyramids, play chicken, and catapult people in the lake

2:48 leave for the Belvoir Crusader fortress.

4:17 devour a Nokout icecream bar, courtesy of JUC.

5:23 listen to an incredible testimony and have great getting-to-know you bus conversations.

6:15 have a hearty dinner back at JUC in Jerusalem

7:57 head out to the Old City; hang out at Shaban's shop (local merchant friend).

9:46 chat with Heidi, Mia, and Mom.

10:38 post this blog.

Incense, Olive Trees and Asians

2011-09-10T19:06:00.006+01:00

Today, I saw:

11 goats

26 sheep

2 threshing floors

3 ancient burial sites

1 camel

2 palaces

and 78 Asian tourists

Ok, so that last number is a guesstimate...but seriously, Asians love the Mount of Olives! The funniest thing happened while we were learning about Jesus' descent into Jerusalem from Bethany. Sitting on stone benches designed for tour groups, we were looking over the old city and doing our best to concentrate on what our professor was saying...but a group of Asian tourists were constantly walking in front of our view, posing next to the railing (always the same pose: bodies sideways to the camera and head turned, with a pleasant almost-smile on their faces). Then some of them started taking pictures of us, the American tourists. The student sitting beside me, Ryan, was cracking up about the whole thing...and could hardly believe it when one of them handed his camera to a friend, walked over to us, sat next to Ryan, and posed for a picture!! He and I were like, do we pose for this, or is this supposed to be candid? After a few shots Ryan totally ignored the lecture (which was, by now, falling apart amidst the giggles of all of us watching the spectacle), put his arm around the guy and grinned at the camera. Classic.

I wonder what so many tourists from the East — who come from a very different kind of religious background — think about all these "holy sites" of the monotheists: where thousands come to kiss stones and touch graves; where three religions, so similar to each other in many ways, wage wars of blood and symbolism on the same land that they call blessed and sacred. What do our monuments, pilgrimages, cathedrals and quarrels say to the world about Christianity?

As we walked down the slope, surrounded by guides speaking a dozen languages and a rainbow of tour-group caps, we passed hundreds of modern Jewish graves (above ground). The Mount of Olives range has been a burial side for thousands of years, because it is just outside the old city. It was a weird juxtaposition: Jewish cemeteries, Christian churches for every minute action of Christ ("here Christ wept for Jerusalem"), and Arab merchants hawking their wares to the tourists hiking down the mount roads. One guy was selling camel rides; others had scarves and postcards. We came around one corner and there was a donkey standing patiently in the shade. "Taxi! Taxi!" cried its owner jovially. "Taxi Jesus!" I laughed aloud at his tongue-in-cheek advertising.

We visited the traditional "garden of Gethsemane" church, which is very beautiful even if it is not the true location of Jesus' anguished prayer. The olive trees cared for there are perhaps a thousand years old, gnarled and hollowed with time. The "garden" Jesus and his disciples visited, by the way, probably was not a garden as we conceive them in the U.S. but a small agricultural olive grove at the foot of the valley, with little grass or other vegetation. I'd like to go back when there aren't so many tourists (it really ruins the mood!), maybe some morning.

Our bus drove us all around the countryside south-and-east of Jerusalem:

Mt. Scopus, where we got our first view of the wilderness just beyond the Mt. of Olives;

the southern promenade at the edge of Jerusalem;

the Herodian palace in the wilderness — the farthest location we visited today, only 7.5 miles from Jerusalem;

Bethlehem, where we visited the Church of the Nativity (actually an impressively plausible location for Jesus' birth);

and Rama Rachel, an unidentified palace ruin (8th century BC) next to a modern-day Kibbutz (Jewish communal) neighborhood.

My favorite places were the Herodian and the Church of the Nativity. The Herodian was a pretty cool ruin on the top of a mountain artificially heightened to be visible from Jerusalem. The ruins of a tower, bathhouse, reception/dining room, huge cisterns, and giant pool are impressive—as Herod clearly meant the original to be. But the thing that really took my breath away was the wilderness. Here it spread out far away to the east, where it was interrupted by the Dead Sea and rose into high hazy mountains beyond. No green remained at this time of year, and houses dotted the landscape only a score of miles away before civilization surrendered up entirely harsh and barren land. The stone on that side of Jerusalem is white and chalky, and verses about Jesus' temptation and about David shepherding in the wilderness suddenly were illuminated vibrantly in my mind. I picked up one of the stones, thinking about our new names written on some just as these. I can't wait to get back out there. If I could, I'd retreat there for my own monastic experience, alone with only God, temptation, and my own heart to sort out my calling. Don't worry Mom, I won't try it. :)

The Church of the Nativity was first built during Constantine, rebuilt during Justinian, vandalized during the Ottomans, and is now maintained by the Greek Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, and Franciscan order. (I'm realizing that the Greek Orthodox church has a major foothold in this land, both in terms of property owned and of significant churches maintained.) The church is may be the oldest church building in the world, and certainly one of the longest continually functioning. Part of the floor opens to reveal the original Constantine mosaics beneath, and the wooden roof lets in beautiful shafts of light, but much of the church needs significant restoration. Tall marble columns are so dirtied by time that the paintings of saints and church fathers are hardly discernible. Candle smoke cakes the wall hangings and paintings in the cave beneath the church. Nevertheless, the sight of intricate censers releasing the thick smell of frankincense, the gold glinting in 12th century murals, and the intoning liturgy of the priests set a worshipful mood. It's a happy place...quite a contrast from the dimly lit, stone-domed Church of Gethsemane.

There's so much to see here — I'm glad we've finally been able to get away from the city a bit, farther than walking distance, and experience some of it. Many of the cathedrals I want to visit again; it's hard to "get away with God" living on a small campus in a land where women get hassled when walking alone. I'm hoping that one of them becomes my place to meet Him on a regular basis.

Until the next adventure,

Hannah

Islam + Modernity = ?

2011-09-07T21:04:00.011+01:00

This is the second week of classes, and life's settling into a groove here. I made it to breakfast today (a small but pleasing accomplishment), did some textbook reading, went to lunch, attended class, walked around the New City, had dinner, walked around the Old City, went to class, and then played cards for a few hours while a concert at the Sultan's Pool (just down the valley) joined the sound of traffic and occasional shouts.

The reading I've been doing is from a book called What Went Wrong? Islam and Modernity in the Middle East, by Bernard Lewis. As Lewis explains, Islam started in success. Unlike Judaism and Christianity, it was not from the outset beset by persecution, but conquered the entire MidEast and marched all the way to Vienna (Ottoman Empire). The Islamic empire considered itself the civilized peoples with the true religion, with barbarian and hopeless neighbors to the northwest. However, in time the West caught up to and overtook the Islamic empire, in technology, scientific knowledge, and economic success. Ever since, "What went wrong? How could we, the blessed believers of the true faith, become subordinate in power and success to Europeans?" Lewis examines the differences between the Islamic realms and the West, for instance:

1. For a long time there (until today, even) there is a repulsion of anything Western in the Middle East. In the beginning, the Islamic world didn't think the West had anything to offer (and at first – i.e. Dark Ages – they were right). To accept achievements of the West was to lose face, in a way: first Western weapons, printing presses, then school systems, other technologies, etc. It was pretty humiliating. Plus they didn't want anything tainted by Christianity.

2. There was never the idea of separation of "church and state" – aka secularism. Their privilege as an unpersecuted faith never created the necessity for secularization of state; abuse of religious power upon government and manipulation of the church by government led to their separation in the West.

3. Islam accepts a theocracy, where the ruler is essentially God (and his prophet Mohammed). When democracy emerged, they looked upon the West with near-pity. As for democracy in the Middle East, why would anyone want to take control out of the hands of God and place it in the hands of mere men? Clearly that attitude has evolved over the centuries (as they try to answer "What went wrong?"), and it will be interesting to see if democracy holds after the "Arab Spring."

There's a lot to unpack in this book; I think it's pretty enlightening. I'm very interested to see how the history of the MidEast (which seems very under-taught in U.S. schools) has shaped the worldviews of Muslims and the decisions of Middle Eastern states. It's well-worth reading!

Another exciting event: I learned how to spell my name in Arabic! Eventually we'll learn all the letters, but for now I'm quite content to know just this: هنا (read from right to left).

I've been doodling it all over my notes, like some lovestruck teen with her sweetheart's name or something. But it looks so cool! :)

'Til the next adventure,

هنا

City of David, Temple of Herod

2011-09-05T12:42:00.001+01:00

Yesterday was our second field study in Jerusalem. Our first stop was the old Mt. Zion, the site of the original City of David. It seems a strange location to build a city — a low, long ridge surrounded by higher hills is hardly ideally defensible — but it was originally flanked by much lower valley that have since been filled with thousands of years of rubbish. The fact that the best water source — the Gihon spring — is next Mt. Zion, it actually is a pretty logical place to settle. Hard as I tried, it was difficult to imagine the old city where I could see only a dusty neighborhood, asphalt roads, and construction workers.

There are some excavations on the hill – first-century remains are almost 100 feet below current ground level. It was pretty cool to see archeology in action. A group of workers were taking a break, while an ancient palace lay below them, half uncovered like a sculpture taking shape. There was a well preserved floor mosaic carefully dusted, and I wondered what it would look like when the tiles were completely cleaned. This particular complex was built for a Roman queen just before the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD. Bad timing!

One of the highlights of the day was walking through Hezekiah's tunnel, built to connect Gihon spring to Siloam pool at the bottom of the valley. No one is really sure how they built it: diggers started at both ends and then met in the middle, with relatively few errors along the way (only a couple of dead-ends in the wrong direction). The tunnel was just wide enough for a man to walk through, but in some places it was maybe 30 feet high — I assume they started too high and had to dig downwards to aid the flow of springwater. I imagined the men with axes, pounding away at limestone in the smokey torchlight: what a dismal job! It'd be drudgery to carry all those stones out of the tunnel. I wonder if anyone ever used the tunnel to escape the city or meet someone secretly at the pool: nah. By the time the tunnel was rediscovered by British adventurers, it was so full of sludgey refuse that they could barely craw through.

Another highlight was our visit to the remains of the entrance to the jewish temple. While the Muslim-controlled Temple Mount is closed to any infidel excavation, the Jewish Quarter runs right up to the Temple Mount wall, and extensive archeological digs have taken place there. We saw the foundations of a huge stairway (Robinson's Arch) leading to a type of overlook that Herod and his pals probably used to look down on the temple goings-on. Around the corner, original slabs and reconstructed stone form the impressive steps up to the Temple entrance. The two gateways open to underground stairways that come out to what must have been a jaw-dropping view of the Temple itself. Of course, now the gateways are only archways filled in, melded into the wall...but still, this was the easiest place to step back in time. I sat on the steps and thought of the thousands of travelers slowly making their way up the steps, all kinds of sacrificial animals or grain offerings in tow. I thought of the small crowds gathering around rabbis or scribes, listening to parables or lectures relating the temple. They must have looked out upon the same view I now saw: the City of David directly below, the Mount of Olives to the left covered by white-washed tombs, the hills and the hot sun framing all in a seasonal haze. Jesus surely stood and taught here, using the water-toting servants of the temple and the tassel-wearing Pharisees as images of his message. The woes to the pharisees in (Matthew 23) and Jesus’ appearance during the festival (John 7) took on vibrant meaning as I imagined them taking place here, on temple grounds.

Our tour ended at the Pool of Bethesda, within the bounds of today's Old City. Next to the pool structures is a French-Catholic cathedral, St. Annes'. The acoustics are incredible. It's the kind of place I'd love to have to myself, where I could sing alone in the night, moonlight and the echoes of worship falling from the stone arches. Maybe I can sneak back sometime! :) Meanwhile, I'm excited to go to the performance of a German chorale there on Thursday. It's going to be incredible.

The pool of Bethesda was huge! I was not expecting this deep, long pool with huge arches that used to support a pier-like separation between northern and southern ends. Most of the "ceremonial cleansing" (mostly cultic and hallucinogenic rituals) that took place here actually used the cave-pools nearby, while the large pool was probably used to hold water for household use. This place, so far, deviated most from the mental image I formulated while reading gospel stories. It's pretty fun to recontextualize such events.

Another full week of classes ahead! I'm hoping we start our volunteer stuff this week — I can only enjoy being a tourist for so long, and while being a student helps, I'm restless to engage with the peoples and cultures of this country.

'Til the next adventure,

Hannah

The First Sabbath

2011-09-03T19:34:00.000+01:00

Last night I and four other JUC students went down to the Western (or Wailing) Wall. We walked through Zion Gate and the Jewish Quarter, passing a group of boys who were hanging out in the local square. The Western Wall is downhill from much of the city, and as we descended many stairs we saw the Mount of Olives range beyond the edge of the Old City. The two guys in our group covered their heads (according to dress code) and we went through security. Anyone is welcome to pray at the Western Wall. The Wall has become a place of worship because it is the closest place to the site of the ancient temple that is still accessible to Jews. Although it was the evening of Shabbat (Sabbath), there weren't too many people praying there at 10:45pm. I think the most crowded time of the week is right around sundown on Fridays. There are designated areas for men and women to approach the wall, so our group parted ways and I walked slowly up to the wall on the women's side. It's really tall. Small pieces of paper are jammed into the cracks as high as one can reach. It's not really a place where you can stand and ask God for things: it's too humbling for that. It felt more appropriate to praise Him, pray for others, or at most ask that he would use me to glorify himself. While I enjoyed doing devotions in an area so devoted to seeking God (it's really quite incredible!), I was saddened as I placed my hand on the Wall. It's a visually astounding picture of the Jewish faith, I think: a towering wall literally dividing the earnest worshippers from God. They physically cannot reach the place where he dwelt. "If only you understood that the curtain was torn," I thought. "That there is no division anymore."
On a lighter note! as we started walking back, the sound of joyous voices got louder and louder until a huge throng of men, from bearded rabbis to young students, came into view. I have no idea what they were singing, but it was fun! Shoulder to shoulder, with a bit of dancing here and there, they approached the Wall to pray on Sabbath. They may have missed the sign of the curtain, but I'd love to see Christians go to church with such enthusiasm!
Other things I've done since the last post include eating baklava in the Old City, attending my "Palestinian Society and Politics" class taught by a Palestinian parliamentary member, and reading in the JUC gardens. Speaking of which, I am now officially a gardener here at JUC, which will supply me with a little bit of spending money each week. Woopee! :)
-Hannah

Drumroll........and classes begin!

2011-08-30T18:52:00.006+01:00

Monday and Tuesday were my first two days of classes. Though I have one more still to begin (tomorrow), I have a little bit of the feel of my schedule. It's going to be perfect, I think: engaging and stimulating classes, beneficial schoolwork (mostly!), free time to explore and get involved here.

All but once a week, my classes start after lunch (yippeee!!!). I'm normally a night owl at home, but I really want to change that habit around while I'm here so that I can take advantage of my morning hours to visit the city. Once the sun is up it glares down on my face in the mornings, so I'm thinking that will help me get going earlier.

A few rather amusing and improbable things have happened, the first being this: I dozed in and out of my first class with an Israeli professor...in the front row! Agh, I was immensely interested and excited for my class, but I think I'm still catching up from jetlag and it was after a great lunch...anyway, I'm planning to wear my hear differently and sit on the opposite side of class tomorrow so that I hopefully make an entirely new impression unconnected with that first day!

My second class was "Physical Setting of the Bible," taught by an American and pretty straightforward. It'll be nice not to be concerned with cultural differences (no syllabus, reading expectations, teaching style etc.) in that class. There are a lot of field studies as well, which will be GREAT.

Today was my first day in Palestine! Our Arabic class is held Bethlehem BIble College. We took a bus to the Bethlehem checkpoint and breezed through empty queue lines to the Arab side of the wall. No one's worried about people entering Palestinian territory. Our grad student guide led us on the street along the wall (which winds around and doubles our walking time) until we reached the college. The wall reminded me so much of Belfast: layers of graffitti covered the walls as high as a man's reach before dwindling to dusty whitewash and barbed wire.

Day 1 of Arabic was a lot of fun. Salwa, our Arabic teacher, is the second-aunt (or something) of a Taylor student. She's animated and friendly. Waiting in the room was a non-JUC student (we were late, you see). "He looks soo familiar!" I thought immediately. A Taylor alumni I'd had classes with? I doubted it, but I was baffled. We went around and introduced ourselves ("Ismi Hannah, ana min Amreka") and when he said he was from Ireland, I realized I'd met him during my FISP semester. Tim was actually, in part, a reason I am here in Isreal; during one of our FISP chapels, he had shared about his experience volunteering in a Palestinian refugee camp. The irony! After class I reintroduced myself ("I knew you looked familiar!"), and he offered several of us a ride back to Jerusalem. He's now a pastor at a church in East Jerusalem, and we (Nicole,Tim and I) caught up on old times and what we've been doing the past four years. It was fun to reconnect with someone I thought I'd never see again.

We inched up to the checkpoint, and when we got there was surprised how relaxed it was. Not that they were slacking on the job — in fact, Tim said that the 3 soldiers (2 men and a woman) asked more questions than usual — but they were very friendly, making conversation and joking. "You can pictures," they said, smiling; "Its not like they show on the news, yeh?" As we drove away Tim quipped, "Of course, they aren't usually that friendly either...but it probably helped that there were four women in the car!"

My other class today was "Rabbinical Thought and Literature," taught, aptly, by Rabbi Moshe Silberschein. This class will continuously challenge my reading and interpretation of the Old Testament (and probably the New as well). We learned today of midrash, which means literally "to search out." It is a rabbinical process/mindset that studies the Tanakh (Bible) by focusing on the layers of meaning in each text. Today we practiced this by looking for seeming inconsistencies or problems in Genesis 2-3. I noted that these ancient Jewish teachers — who Christians may see as tragically deaf to Scripture or "pharisaically" half-hearted — were actually quite daring to seek errors in their own text in order to find deeper divine truths. How often do I trustingly look for as many contradictions as possible in the New Testament in faith that God will reveal more understanding?

Echoing the perspective of Jewish study, Rabbi Moshe said, "If this is a divine book, its the most sophisticated book ever written. Thus there are meanings at many different levels." Religious Jews read the Tanakh through the lens of the Chazal (Classical Rabbinical Teachings) just as Christians read the Old Testament through the lens of the New Testament. I'm thrilled about getting this hands-on, interfaith look at Scripture!

Man, I realize that my blogs are boorishly long...Sorry 'bout that! I'm sure they'll fade in length (though hopefully not frequency) once this becomes "normal life" for me. Until then, feel free to skim for what interests you!

-Hannah

Old City Revisted

2011-08-28T21:58:00.004+01:00

Tonight is the eve of my first day of classes. I'm looking forward to all of the material I'll be studying: Palestinian civic society, Arabic, rabbinical thought...but I'm not too thrilled about the prospect of homework!

Today we took a "real" tour of the Old City (as opposed to our scavenger hunt), and realized that my group had effectively taken the back roads right next to all those that would give us a great view of some pretty impressive sights. This time, we were guided by the Western (Wailing) Wall, the Dome of the Rock complex, and the Hurva Synagogue. We walked through the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and peeked into some 1st century tombs within. We touched city walls built by King Herod and took obscure routes to the rooftops for an incredible view of the city and the Mount of Olive Ridge behind. Here were some of my impressions:

I found it very interesting to compare the architecture in the Jewish quarter with the rest of the city. During the 1948 Israeli War of Independence (and during the War of 1967), the Jewish Quarter was destroyed. When Israel retook the Old City in 1967, they had little more than rubble to work with: as a result, this section of the old city looks much more modern, much more Western, and much more organized. The Muslim Quarter, on the other hand (which we did not enter but viewed from the rooftops), is closely built and is conspicuously riddled with satellite cables; this is because the Muslim Quarter is much more residential than the Jewish and Christian Quarters (tourist central!).

While the Old City is divided into sections by the road system designed during the Roman period, it's not really ethnically or religiously segregated. People can move freely between quarters, and many Muslims set up shop in the Christian Quarter because there's more business there. The significant holy sites of each religion is in its respective quarter and I think most residents live in their own cultural hub.

I suppose the sound of the Muslim call to prayer affects all people (infidels, I mean) differently. Is it eerie? Romantic? Annoying? When the chant echoed around me for the first time, my first reaction was a deep sadness. Ritual, devotion, submission -- all noble, but all for a lie. Muslims and Jews are surrounded by holy sites here, but the do not know the Holy One. The walk where Jesus lived and breathed, and yet they breathe without Life. It's incredibly sobering because there are so many visual reminders of the unmet hunger for God here.

Let's see, what else...the Church of the Holy Sepulchre? The traditional location of Golgotha and Jesus' tomb, the cathedral is managed by the Greek Orthodox church and shared by many different Christian denominations. At first I was a little put off by the number of tourists (how can you worship God here?), and cynical about the supposed Stone of Unction (annointing/preparation for burial). Our professor/guide explained the history of the site: how it had been the pilgrimmage site for 1st century Christians and Crusaders, who left inscriptions on cave walls and columns attesting to their visits. The Stone of Unction, she explained, was brought to the church in 1810 -- but that it was not authentic "is not the point," she said. High Church teaching always leans towards the physical; after all, physically experiencing something is always more impactful than hearing about it or seeing photos. Icons such as the Stone, Golgatha bedrock, the Tomb, and Adam's chapel (look it up) can teach valuable theological lessons in a uniquely tangible way. After hearing her speak, I reconsidered both the tourists and the relics. These latest visitors are only a small blip in the long legacy of those seeking connection with the Father and the Son. I'm looking forward to returning one morning when there are less crowds so that I can fully experience the church.

Oh, and by the way, Greek Orthodox clergymen look supercool.

The Road to Jerusalem

2011-08-27T22:28:00.003+01:00

From my departure on a plane from O'Hare to the hour I sat down to blog in Jerusalem 48 hours later, my life was filled with the unexpected.

The last text I got from my family before I turned off my phone was from my Dad. "Love you! Hope you find someone interesting to talk to on the plane."

Pshaw, I thought. I'd much rather just mind my own business. Too shy even to say, "How you doin'" to the couple next to me, I pulled out Son of Hamas and started reading.

"I know that book," the woman said to me. "It has been translated to our language, and this author, Mosab Yousef, spoke on our Christian television program." Her friendly comment turned into hours of conversation with Annika and her husband Timo. The two were returning to Finland after attending a prayer-and-intercession conference in Chicago. Timo and Annika were so easy to talk —and to listen — to that by the end of the flight I felt like I was leaving good friends. I was encouraged and challenged by their testimonies, their understanding of God's workings through his people, and there deep passion for the nations. How incredible and joyous it is to fellowship with Christians from other cultures! I wrote in my journal afterwards:

"They've reminded me of my interest in the Holy Spirit, my hope for his place in my life, and the truth that my goal for this trip is not to 'discover my destiny'—not even to discover if I could live in Israel long-term—but to praise and worship the Father and the Son."

If my first flight was a taste of what's to come in the next four months, it's going to be mind-blowing!

According to the last informational email I'd received, there were no other JUC students on my flight from Paris to Tel Aviv (Israel). I was pretty nervous about braving both the Paris and Tel Aviv airports. During my layover, however, I discovered another student had been been rebooked to my flight at the last minute. I was much less stressed about flying into Israel now that I had a travel buddy!

After getting through border control easily (a big surprise to me), we spent an hour looking for lost luggage and then got on the nesher shuttle to Jerusalem. As we drove through the hills, I couldn't grasp the fact that I was in Israel. Seeing Haasidic Jews in the city soon changed that!

I spent that night in my room on the roof of the JUC building. The Hinnom Valley stretched out before me; our room actually opens out to the roof balcony. What a fantastic view to wake up to!

Today was packed with student orientation, class registration, a touristy scavenger hunt through the Old City, and an evening tour in the New City. I was overwhelmed by the sights, the smells, the culture, and the semester of schooling before me. I'm so glad to be here, but I think I need some good sleep and some time for my brain to calm down! :)

Over the next few days I'll be starting classes and getting into a routine. Who knows what the next week will bring!

-Hannah

The "Humdrum" of Life

2011-06-15T20:28:00.003+01:00

Gee, once again I have slacked on updating! Let's see, I've been in Cuenca with my family for 2 weeks. The "honeymoon period," as they call it, is definitely over...my siblings are acting like their (what I assume is) normal less-than perfect selves, and I spent 3 days with unfriendly bacteria in my stomach. But I'm still loving being here, even if I am a little tired of eating so much meat at every meal.... :)

-Last Friday I spent the entire afternoon catching tadpoles outside the house with my sisters. I'm guessing this is how I got sick (cows + puddles = nasty amoebas), but the 12 baby froggies, 2 tadpoles, and unforgettable memory were worth it!

-On Saturday we visited Ingapirca, an Incan/Cañari (other tribe) ruin. It was small but cool. I have decided that the Inca are my favorite pre-colombian American empire. (Don't worry Iroquois, you will always have a special North-American place in my heart!) Mostly I like them because they lived in the mountains and didn't sacrifice people. :)

-Classes are well underway, and most of the time I feel way behind everyone else in the intermediate class. I really need to study and memorize more....but home is too fun for studying!

-I really love downtown Cuenca – the old part of the city has architecture from the Spanish Colonial period, and we visited some of the old buildings – a hotel (now an art exhibit) and a couple of mansions (now hotels). Wow. The architecture here is influenced by the Moors, Spaniards, and indigenous peoples.

-Class is twice a day, with lunch/siesta in between (at home with the family, of course). Thus, I must head back to town for my culture class! Cíao!

-Hanita

2011-06-06T10:30:00.000+01:00

Hola! Sorry I haven't updated my blog in a while, but I'll make up for it with an introduction of my family.

Today is my fourth day in Cuenca with my Ecuadorian family, la familia Fernandez. I LOVE Cuenca and my family! This city is gorgeous, in the middle of the mountains and surrounded by forests. My home is on a hill with a great view, a fifteen minute drive from La Iglesia Verbo where I have classes every weekday.

My mom's name is Rosana, or Roxi. She's in her early thirties and cooks great meals. :) She is incredibly patient with my poor Spanish! I have enjoyed getting to know her through the stories she tells me. She's understanding, talkative, laid-back, and basically a perfect fit for me.

My dad's name is Santiago. He sells medicine for an American company and is the most quiet one in the family (sheesh, I would be too if I was surrounded by 5 crazy girls all the time! :) He's very kind and considerate, and it's clear he loves his daughters a lot.

I have 3 sisters:

Emi (Emiliana): She's 13, confident, and a great Spanish teacher. Emi is also a great older sister to Romi and Vici.

Romi (Romina): She's 7 and alternatively a sweetheart and an ornery little sister! She was the first to tell me "Te quiero," which made my day.

Vici (Victoria): A 3-year-old full of toddler-ness, Vici has an adorable giggle and a formidable whine. :) I love all three of my ñañitas — "littke sisters" in Quichua.

(Quichua: the language of the Incas. I always thought that the great empires of Latin America had completely died out, but in Ecuador many of the traditions, the myths, and the language of the Aztecs are treasured. Quichua words are mixed in with Spanish here, especially in Cuenca.)

We also have a 2-month-old puppy, Manuela. Apparently she was a present for the girls on "El dia de niños," the day before I got here. She's pretty cute. :)

This weekend I met my mami's side of the family at her parent's camp-house in the mountains. GORGEOUS! Oh man, I want a sweet rustic house with a wood stove someday! I met the aunts and uncles, my 2 toddler cousins, and my great-grandma who has a mild case of Alzheimer's. They're a fun, loving group that I look forward to hanging out with each Sunday at la casa del campo.

Classes are not as exciting as my home life, of course: they're difficult while interesting. I'm in a culture class and the intermediate level Spanish course (in two parts: grammar and conversational Spanish). We go on trips on the weekends; Saturday was to Gualaceo, which is known for its shoes, pork and potato dish, and hot milk-corn-and-cardamom drink. Fun times, but when I am with my friends we speak in English and I have a dickens of a time transitioning back into Spanish later! :)

Well, I am in a break but it's time to head back to class!

Ciao,

Hannah (Montanta) Babe

Ecuador Day 1

2011-05-31T22:42:00.000+01:00

Hola! It's day one for me in Ecuador, and it has been a blast. There are 15 of us Taylor students on the trip, getting 6 Spanish credits and 2 cultural credits. This first day was spent in Quito (the capital) and the surrounding area called Pinchincha.
Ecuador is geographically vertically split into thirds: the east coast, the central Andean mountains, and the jungle in the west. We are in the mountains, which remind me a little of both New Zealand and Kenya. Very tall, very beautiful. This region is nicknamed "Volcano Avenue" because there are so many active volcanoes--indigenous cultures feature these volcanoes heavily in their folklore and creation myths.

Basic checklist of things we did today:
-Bartered at an artisan market in Otavalo -- on the weekends, one of the biggest in South America.
-Visited Cotacachi, a town famous for its leather products. Got lunch with one of the most common meats in Ecuador -- pork.
-Stood on the equator at the Mitad del Mundo, where it was first discovered that the world is not a perfect sphere.
-Had a GREAT snack of biscuit-bread, soft white cheese wrapped in a banana leaf, and dulce de leche (like caramel). Soo good! At this little road stop, there was an alpaca (or llama?) moseying around chewing grass. One of the guys on our trip went over to pet it and got spit in the face. It was hilarious. The kid tending the alpaca wasn't too happy. Stupid Americans. :) Naw, really most Ecuadorians have been very friendly and accommodating. And such beautiful people!

It's been a very full day -- a full 5 hours of driving up and down mountains -- but it's been really fun. I love love LOVE the geography and climate, the people are friendly and colorful, and the culture so far has been really interesting. I already feel like I'm picking up more Spanish (e.g. huevos revueltas=scrambled eggs, chévere=cool), and it's getting easier to understand people speaking it already. We'll see how it goes!

Take a look at the map -- Quito is in the north, and Otavalo, Cotacachi, and the equator are just north of it. On Thursday we're flying down to Cuenca (between "Andes" and "Mountains" on the map), where we'll live for the rest of the month with our host families.

Man, I thought I was going to get to bed early! I guess that's traveling for you. :) Buenos noches...
-Hannah

"Where am I again?"

2008-11-19T13:28:00.001Z

Wow. I feel so restless! Strange.

These next few blogs will be mostly for my own sake, I suppose. So many thoughts and emotions are swirling around in my head that I have to get them out on "paper" and make sense of them.

I just said goodbye to Dad, the last one to head off to work/school for the day. I wandered around the house, noticing so many little changes since I've been home: red candles on the coffee table, a new lamp on Heidi's desk, a new faucet on the kitchen sink. I'm glad for them – they are reminders that I was really gone, and it wasn't all a dream. An 8-hour flight across the Atlantic gave me no time to realize that I was now thousands of miles away from my life of the last 3 months. Getting my luggage at Chicago, saying goodbye to everyone...we knew it'd be only weeks until we saw each other again, but it feels like forever...

...well, I seem to have jetlag all taken care of, that's a good thing. I fell asleep around nine, woke up around 8, and feel pretty rested...

Hmmm. It's so weird not to have 29 people around. One of the first things I did this morning (just before writing this) was to update my Facebook status and see what other FISPers are up to. It's so silly, feeling like I just want to talk with one of them for 20 minutes or so! I mean, I just saw them all yesterday. I suppose this will be one of the biggest adjustments – the [physical] distance between us all now.

Some things I felt when I first got home:

"Hi mom and dad!" (Wait, am I happy?......Ok, yeah, I am. Good.) "So...uh...how's it going?"

"Hmm, I wonder if my parents are getting tired of me talking about people they don't know all the way back from Chicago."

"Oh, darn it! I forgot to make a peat fire in the living room one last time. I miss that smell...like burning dirt."

"What, Roj wants texting? Why would he need that? I wish I didn't have to have my cellphone back!"

"Geez, our house is huge! For only 6 people? Wow!"

"I like all the plants in the living room. That's nice." (I didn't realize we had no potted plants at the Y until I got home!)

"Why do I have all this stuff here? Why in the world do I need it?"

"Oh yeay, my family."

"I desperately need a cup of tea." (Tea=a bit of normalcy)

"Oh yeah, I can get internet on my laptop now! Wow, I wonder how many updates I'll have to download..."

"Hey ... I'm alone for the first time in 3 months! This is kinda nice...weird, but nice."

"Agck! We don't have any normal tea!!!!!! What were my parents thinking?!?!?"

...Well, I guess this "sweet coconut thai chai" will have to do. But it's just not the same... >sniffle sniffle<

It is nice to be home.

Later,

Hannah Babe

Ah, the Britons, the Britons :)

2008-11-18T02:21:00.004Z

This is Jon and Lisa, Theo (left) and Joseph (w/guitar). How I'm gonna miss them!

Final Days and "Disasters"

2008-11-18T02:17:00.002Z

Well, this has been the most unexpectedly eventful weekend of my entire time in Ireland. Just to clue you in on the last 3 days of my life...

We got on the 6:20 DART, got off at Bray, and hiked Brayhead to watch the sunrise. There are countless paths to get up (too many trailblazers) and I ended up climbing the last 30 or 40 feet to the top. Too bad I missed the nice, sloping grassy path a few yards away. Oh well, it was more fun climbing rocks. And worship was really good. Then we hiked back down to Greystones and got back at 10ish, 11ish. So that was a pretty good time, nice walk.

(so ps I got like 4 hours of sleep the night before)

So then just after lunch, Lauren Sparks and I decided to kayaking. After Jonathan gave us the parentish "be safe" speech (which was really weird to hear after 3 months!) we headed south. Beautiful trip, with a great view of the mainland. So we get pretty far, and I realize that I am really tired. Exhausted, actually. So I yell at Lauren that I'm too tired to go any farther, and we try to go back. The current, the choppier waves, and the wind keep us from making any progress and so we land on shore and drag the kayaks down the beach until it turns too rocky. So then we get out in the kayaks again, and we're both completely shot. She told me that she couldn't paddle any farther, so I got the great idea of tying her kayak behind mine and paddling us both while she steered herself. Fail. And then while I was untying her I flipped my kayak, fell into the sea (freezing!) and swam back to shore with my kayak. I was really happy my watch still worked, but this is when I really started to worry...about things like hypothermia and stuff. I'm pretty sure God gave us both the strength to get back to the Greystones beach, because both of us were praying like mad and wondering how our arms were still moving. Finally we got to the closest end of the beach, and then Lauren ran back to the Y to get some guys to carry the kayaks back. (No way we could kayak or carry them back from there!) While I waited for help, I sat for awhile, saw a seal (yeay) and then got so cold that I resorted to dragging both kayaks further down the beach. I actually gave up on anyone coming, and I was just about to leave the kayaks when I saw Ian and Brad coming. Yeay. Apparently Lauren didn't tell them how far down the beach I was, so they walked all they way back to the Y to get better directions :). anyway, our 1 1/2 hour kayak trip turned into a 3 hour test of endurance and strength of will. then we went to a tschaikovsky symphony, which was amazing, but I was pretty out of it. Apparently I was completely pale and glazed-eyed the rest of the evening. Hopefully I provided some entertainment to our group. :)

Moral of the story...don't go ocean kayaking after a long walk/hike, and–if you're a parent-figure–always remember to tell me to turn back when I'm halfway tired!

Saturday (after a long sleep-in), Lauren and I went to Dublin. We missed the first DART, waited 20 minutes for the next one. We were supposed to meet two friends an hour later, so we waited for them at the Dublin station for 45 minutes (they were caught up in their own kayaking adventure, but that's another crazy story.) so then we decided to catch a quick DART south to save walking time, and we ended up going the WRONG way and ended up at the north station! Shame, shame, to get confused by the DART after 2 months of riding it all the time. :) So we waited 15 minutes or so to get back to where we wanted to be, and then promptly took a really long way to the Arcade Market because we got a little lost. Craziness. We decided that hanging out is fun, and the trouble is worth it, but nevertheless Lauren+Hannah=Rather Bad Luck.

Alright, so skip to today (Monday), our last day here. We had Irish dance class at 4pm, and so I was carrying a friend piggyback across the yard so her socks wouldn't get dirty. All the sudden, slip! I wipe out in the mud, and all of her weight and mine drive my shin down into the cement buffer between the lawn and the driveway. I was kind of afraid I chipped the bone or something...ow. So needless to say, I watched our last dance class while icing my shin. There's a nice bruise and scrape about 3/4 the length of my shin. At least I won't be walking much tomorrow! It's not as bad as I feared, but it's pretty sore and tender.

So I then take a shower to get unmuddied, and pack my razor and soap away. As I'm shoving them in my suitcase, the razor cuts through the ziplock bag and slices the edge of my pinkie. Dang it!!!! Lot's of wonderful flashbacks of slicing the side of my thumb off in Thailand made me freak out a little, and I actually cried more about that little slice than my leg. Silly. :)

So maybe these are signs that it's time to come home. Just kidding, I'm ready to come home, but I didn't realize how HARD it would be to say goodbye to Jon, Lisa, Joe and Theo. I can't really bear it, actually. Thank goodness for Facebook and email! Besides Brian, who will bus us to the airport in 2 hours (it's 2am now), I've said all my goodbyes, and I'm just tediously waiting for the dreaded moment when Ireland vanishes beneath the clouds. The only consolation is that I'll come back someday, and see everyone again!

See you soon,

Hannah Babe

God moves

2008-11-13T14:46:00.002Z

Wow...I'll be home in less than a week! It's easy to think that the trip is basically 'over,' but God has definitely worked in these last few days of our semester.
Yesterday evening we were in our last 'class' with our chaplain, Jen. Each of us had made a picture, a song, or poem that expressed our own experience in Ireland, and we shared them with the group that night. We ended up talking and sharing for three hours, and even afterward people had some good conversations in smaller groups. It was incredible to hear from those who decided to be vulnerable and really share what had been going on in their hearts. I definitely feel our group got closer, and that people overcame a lot of fear as they trusted us with their struggles.
This morning during chapel a group of us did the 'Lifehouse Everything' drama - the same one I did in Mexico this summer. Chapel is usually an hour long, but really all we had was the 5 minute drama and then Chelsea invited people to reflect, to think about what was holding them back from God and to seek him out. I admit I was a little worried; after all, most of these kids have seen this drama before-how much could it truly speak to them? As the song played in the background, I went over to a corner and just prayed for people. When I looked up ten minutes later I was astonished : people were praying with each other, people were broken and earnestly crying out to God. For three hours people cried, prayed, and talked together. Later Johnathan asked me who did chapel, and really all I could say was 'it was God's chapel.' He took our little drama and created an atmosphere of brokenness, love, and fellowship. I was so encouraged to see him working: I felt Joy. It was as if he revealed to us all that he'd been doing in our lives over the past three months...time that many of us felt he was absent.
Of course, a lot of the emotion that's been brought up will fade. But the glimpses of true Christian fellowship, and of God's work in our hearts...I think that will last.

Further Up! and Further In

2008-11-09T18:51:00.001Z

Nine days left!

I'm ready to see family and friends again, but I'm getting very sad about leaving Ireland. The country is beautiful and rich with history, but I'm going to miss the people most: Jonathan and his family, chaplain Jennifer Lewis, our bus driver Brian King. I feel like I'm just starting to get to know them, and it's time to leave! I want to go out for coffee with a lot of people this week–make the most of the time I have left with them.

A friend and I went up to Malahide last weekend. It is one of the last stops on the DART north of Dublin, and there's a beautiful park there with tennis courts, a golf course, rugby and soccer fields, and even a castle. But the best part was the playground! It was the best playground I've ever been to...tire swings, , and a sweet contraption I can only call "The spinny tire thingy." For a late lunch we went to a pub–I think it was the most "Irish" pub I've been to so far. Away from most tourist areas, it was filled with groups of "mates" watching televised soccer and families out for a bite after their son's or daughter's own soccer match.

I really love the pub atmosphere here: dark oak furniture, walls decorated with posters and old portraits like an Applebee's, the din of voices and laughter, and–if you're lucky–a band of musicians playing traditional Irish tunes. Add a few friends and a rock shanty (orange soda plus lemon soda), and you've got yourself a sure recipe for great conversation and lasting memories. The other day I went up to Dublin with a some friends and we went to the Brazen Head pub – the oldest in Ireland, started in 1198. There was some live music – a mandolin, bodhran drum, banjo, and guitar – and so we hung out for awhile and talked over rock shanties and coffee. I really want to make sure I continue relationships with the FISP group: it will be so strange not to see everyone in the mornings!

Right now we're on a two-day tour of Northern Ireland – or "the North of Ireland," to those call it "six counties under enemy occupation." There is still a lot of hostility between those who want Northern Ireland to be part of England (Unionists) and those who want it to become part of the Republic (Nationalists). The sticky thing about the situation is that many unionists are protestant, and many nationalists are catholic– so the conflict has been labeled a sectarian one when it really is political.

It's hard for me to imagine hating another person merely for their political or religious stance. So much prejudice and bitterness–here in Belfast, in Israel, between inner-city gangs...right at home–could be ended by reconciliation and getting to know people for who they are, not what they're labeled. Satan is very good at using ignorance and twisted information to divide us, isn't he?

We hiked the cliffs of Slieve League yesterday afternoon. It was soo beautiful. I can't imagine what it's like on a sunny day–it must be literally breathtaking. As it was–misty, grey and cold–the cliffs and mountains were gorgeous. I was glad for the chance to cavort over the rocky, heather-covered crags of Ireland one more time.

On the way back from Slieve League we passed a castle built on the very edge of the cliffs. I'm pretty sure it was the castle that inspired Cair Paravel. I would've loved running around the ruins, but it was getting dark so we just passed by. Still....Coolness.

Oh yeah...we went to the Giant's Causeway, too! Hexagonal stones spread out like pavement lead right into the sea. No one really knows how they formed, but it's suspected volcanic rock melted and formed these perfectly shaped rocks. It was fun to climb around and watch the sea crash over the stone. It was kinda slippery though. I got pretty wet. :) It was worth it.

A Bit of Public Reflection...

2008-10-29T15:31:00.001Z

Last Sunday those of us who go to Hillside Community Church led the service. Four students led worship, and it took us all a while to decide who should speak. On Saturday, I felt I should be one of them–though I had little idea what I was supposed to talk about. It wasn't until 10 or 11pm that Rachel felt God was calling her to speak too. The service went well; I think most of us were a little nervous (I certainly was!) but we got some good feedback and I feel like it connected us better with our fellow church-goers. A couple of people also mentioned that I have talent in writing and that I should pursue it–which was really encouraging, because I've been wondering if writing is really what I should do in the future. Anyway, here's what I wrote up late Saturday night and then shared Sunday morning:

Coming to Ireland has given me a lot of time to think. My only obligation here is schoolwork, so a lot of emotions and thoughts that were once buried under busyness have surfaced. Just to give you a glimpse into what I've been going through, I'll share some quotes from my journaling over the past few months. My mind has been all over the place. "The hope that I was destined to greatness withers," I wrote. "The world tells me there is no great Story unfolding. I am restricted from joining "Frodo's Fellowship"; the "Matrix" is all there is. God, when will you free me from this cage of the world?" Two weeks later I wrote, "I am one whose heart is on fire; I am one who stands straight and tall ready to challenge the One of this world. I am a warrior of the King; I am the beautiful, strong maiden who defeats injustice and shows mercy. I am the companion of poets and soldiers, of romantics and philosophers, of dreamers and doers. I am Christ to the world. Christ is the world to me."

What brought about this change in attitude?

One thing I've realized is that life cannot be lived to the fullest if I don't share myself with others. In times when I'm depressed, worn out and discouraged, sharing my thoughts and my struggles with another Christian lifts my burdens. There's something about sharing life with others that reminds me, "There's more to life than your sorrows. Look outside yourself and see God in his people." And fellowship with other Christians gives me the strength and desire to reach out to others.

I see so many middle-aged American couples living a monotonous life–go to work, come home, pay the bills, wish for the weekend, do yard-work, teach Sunday school, join a Bible study, cook dinner...In truth, I'm terrified that I might become another pacified schedule-follower that dreams less of changing the world than of seeking pirates' treasure in my backyard. What happens to the dreams of our childhood–the dreams of being swept up in an adventure, of being part of a wonderful romance? John Eldridge asserts in his book "The Sacred Romance" that these childhood longings are really a longing for God–for living a life chosen by him, fighting side by side with him for humanity, building a deep and vibrant love-relationship with him.

Shane Claireborn, the author of The Irresistible Revolution, tells the true story of one couple's "radical" displays of Christ's love. "A married couple who were unable to have children happened to meet a woman who had found herself six months pregnant and homeless, so they invited her into their home. It proved to be such a beautiful experience that they decided to continue living together to help raise the new baby girl while the mother pursued her dream of going back to school to become a nurse. They have been living together for a decade now." This is the way I want to live, risking to love and fight for strangers in need with the bold passion of Jesus Christ.

See, it's dangerously easy for me to confuse righteousness with busyness for God. For so long I've based my faith on works alone–"Lord, what am I supposed to do?" is a question I ask far more than "God, I want to know you." There are times where I was so busy "doing things for God"–Bible study, youth groups, service projects–that I neglected my relationship with him. Yet Jesus is much more concerned about relationships than duties. In Matthew 23 Jesus condemns the teachers of the law not for their deeds–they lived with calculated "perfection"–but for their selfish pride. Our actions should flow from the heart, not from guilt or obligation. I think so often I try to change myself by doing more for God by my own effort, but seeking God out and letting him work in my heart is the only way I will truly be transformed. That's why I think dreaming and hoping in Christ is so important–instead of wearing ourselves out with things we "have to do," we serve and love others out of the overflow of a vibrant heart wholly devoted to God.

I am only a college student who knows little of the "real" world or its troubles; it's easy for me to dream. Yet I'm continually tempted to become complacent and content with just living to survive, asking little of the world and hoping it doesn't require to much of me. Don't stay content with a "normal life". Don't stay safe in predictability. I encourage you to get away–maybe to a coffee shop for a few hours, maybe to the park for a day–and let God remind you of longings for heroism and romance that are hidden deep inside you. You may find out more than you'd like to about yourself–some of the pain still unhealed from past experiences, some mistrust of God from circumstances where he seemed distant. I encourage you to explore both the dreams and hurts inside, because as Shane Claireborn noted, "When we realize that we are both wretched and beautiful, we are freed up to see others the same way."

And then act on this–pursue God as the lover of your heart, dare him to place you beside Christ on the front-lines of the battle for human souls. After all, eternal life doesn't start in heaven for us–it begins now. Live it to the fullest. When our lifestyles are rooted in a deep hope found in Christ, we will truly start to make a difference in the lives around us.

After the service I stayed around, helping serve tea and coffee, chatting with a few people, and playing soccer with the boys outside until their parents dragged them home. :) We were so busy with classes and schooltrips that I hadn't had time to play soccer with 10-year old Joseph and his friends last week. Today I made up for it by playing with them in the backyard after Irish dancing lessons–which are lots of fun! (Can't say I'm very good...) It's definitely fall–that tingle of ball on cold skin is a tell-tale sign. :)

Love you all,

Hannah Babe

Stone Columns and Cobble Streets

2008-10-29T15:16:00.004Z

Well! It's been a couple of weeks since Rome and Venice, but the memories are unforgettable!

–Walking 4 or so miles looking for our bungalow the first day

–Countless rides on the subway

–Eating pizza every night at the Trevi Fountain

–Following up pizza with gelato at Giolitti :)

–Seeing the Vatican

–Making up stories about "Pope Lightning!"

–Lots of stairs...usually descending the same stairsteps after realizing we went the wrong way

–Drinking from aqueduct-supplied fountains

–Seeing the Colosseum and the Roman Forum

–Touring catacombs at St. Stephen's

–Kicking a wall while waiting for a bus

–Watching a Communist parade

–Capturing 25 minutes of Jared eating a HUGE gelato cone on video

–Riding a train to Venice at night...and trying to sleep

–Sleeping outdoors on the floor of the train station at 5am

–Watching Venice come alive Sunday morning

–Tramping around mazelike streets all day looking for San Marco's and "the pigeon place"

–Climbing a few trees, trying to open a few doors...

–Shopping at a random flea market in a square

–Marveling at carnival masks in shop window

–Finally reaching San Marco's! and saying, "Cool...ok, let's go." :)

Overall we had a great time. There were five others in our group: Katie Moore, Chelsea Moore, Grant Gaenzle, Jared Bakker, and Chadd Schaffer. Yeay for Italy!

Later friends,

Hannah Babe

p.s. Pictures are on the way if our connection cooperates!

What's Happened in 3 Days

2008-10-03T23:34:00.000+01:00

Hey all!

Wow...today's been a pleasantly full day! Working hard all week has given me the whole weekend to enjoy, and I started it out by going to Dublin and Bray today. In Dublin Jess, Lauren, Ian and I got our month DART pass and stopped in a cafe for a few bagels and tea. YUM! We got back in time for lunch, and then I enjoyed a fairly uneventful afternoon. Karin (an RD) and Kate Moore and I headed to Bray (the closest town on the DART) and visited a few thrift shops. The best part of my day:

We were on our way back to the DART in Bray when we saw this parked van ENTIRELY covered in astro-turf and scattered flowers. While we were looking at in curiosity and confusion, a guy unloaded boxes of orange juice cartons and said, "You want some? They're free." OF COURSE WE DO! So I downed a liter of orange juice in 15 minutes on the way back to Greystones. It was delicious, and I usually don't like orange juice. And every face of the carton has hilarious bits of info on it; for example: "So that's just what we've done – set the world's finest orange juice free to pursue its solo career. Sort of like when Justin left NSYNC, except with oranges." And, "Please keep me in the fridge and shake me before pouring. It helps if the cap's on." What in the world! I'm sold. I'm drinking Innocent orange juice for the rest of my life. YEAY!

My WONDERFUL parents sent my my Lord of Catan hat in the mail, and to celebrate I played a four-man game of Settlers. It was great fun and the first time I've played in Greystones, actually. Then I went on a walk and sat on the beach with a friend. Also a good time.

On Wednesday after chapel I was feeling really (very) down. I went and sat outside on the wet bench, looking up at the stars, praying for someone to come an just genuinely ask, "How are you doing?" I'd almost given up hope when our chaplin Jen came over and gave me a big hug, and just let me cry on her shoulder for a while before I unloaded my heart a bit. it was so good just to let out what I'd been keeping inside...all the loneliness and the fear that no one really wanted to know me. I'm really looking forward to lunching with her on Tuesday. I really felt like God had answered my prayer and lifted my spirits; then he went over the top and gave me great, real conversation with four fellow FISPers until 3 am. It was really good for me to build relationships that night, and I really felt like God had ended his period of aloofness (or maybe it was I who was distant? Maybe it took brokenness to allow him close again.).

So basically that sums up my week: a pivotal point that turned this semester from one of gloomy inner struggle into the relationship-building and God-seeking one that I've wanted it to be. Although I've been in Ireland 7 weeks, I feel like it's just begun. And my outlook is very optimistic and proactive right now!

Powerscourt...oh yeah!

2008-09-28T22:56:00.005+01:00

Powerscourt was pretty much a-maze-ing! The interior isn't much to see-a ballroom is the only part actually restored-but the exterior and the grounds are beautiful. Slightly deteriorating statues, rose gardens, tended woods and even-get this-a pet cemetary vied for my attention. We had lunch there, and the desert was the size of my head! So Karin and I shared it. Good stuff-meringue and fruit and cream, yum yum!
I must be the most sterotypical movie fan ever...I was so stoked to go over to the balconey where Monte Cristo made his grand entrance and say ''Greetings'' in the quietest voice I possibly could. I mean, seriously, who could've heard that from down below? But it was great fun.
Well I'm headed off to bed...what a horrid way to end every blog, but it's true! Tomorrow is a study day and I'm meeting a couple of people for tea in the morning, so I'm looking forward to a very laid back Monday.
Goodnight, or Morning...
Hannah Babe
p.s. I read through more of the album Kalyn put together with messages from many of you. When I first got it I thought it would be an ease to homesickness, but in reality it has really encouraged me in my faith! I'm so blessed to know that so many of you, who I've looked up to for a long time as mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters in Christ, pray for me even when I'm thousands of miles away! Thanks so much for your love and your desire spur me onward in my relationship with Christ Jesus.
Yep. The very spot Jim Caviezel stood and said, "Greetings" so softly. Guess who else has? Me and probably 10,000 other people :)
View of the ''backyard'' from the steps of Powerscourt.
Me, Ian Bauman, and Lauren Sparks standing where the scene of "the buying of the house" was filmed.
Karin taking a scoop of Pavlova!
Pretty! And they smelled good, too!
Cool statues by the pond.

Dublin, Glendalough, and the National Concert Theatre

2008-09-28T01:02:00.004+01:00

WOW. We've done a LOT in the last two days! Yesterday was a Dublin day. While the kids with parents took a 90 minute bus tour around the city and then had dinner somewhere, we "orphans" got to ramble around Dublin, shop, have dinner at TGI Fridays (the only place with free refills!) and wander around Temple Bar. Temple Bar is the main drag for tourists–there's a bunch of pubs and street performers (including a guy who finaled by doing the limbo under a flaming pole) . It was nice to walk around Dublin at my own pace without a set schedule...I'm looking forward to the unlimited DART passes we'll have in October!

Today we took a trip to Glendalough. Irish for "Valley of the Two Lakes," Glendalough is the site of one of the famousest monasteries in Ireland (attributed to St. Kevin). The landscape was astounding. We took a hike up to a waterfall, and then walked back down to one of the lakes and skipped rocks and stuff. There was a GREAT climbing tree...so of course I scampered up it for a better view of the lake and mountains. The monastic site itself was probably my favorite so far (except for Skelligs!), because it's tucked away in the valley and there are great woods to hike through and rivers to hike beside.

So tonight was CRAZY! It was our "fanciest" event of our Ireland trip: we went to a 3 course Italian dinner, and then attended the National Concert Theatre for a "Big Band" thing. So imagine a rocker in tight leather pants in a stance far wider than his shoulders, head back, one hand pointing to the sky, the other holding his guitar neck. You know, the classic rocker-type-a-pose. Well, now imagine he has greying hair. Yep, it was a concert of antique Irish rock idols from back in the day...before my time! And they shared the stage with a group of perfomers who said, "I remember one time in the 60s..." without batting an eyelash. The woman with them sang with Johnny Cash or something. So pretty much we–and our parents–were the youngest people in the audience. I'm pretty sure the concert targeted Irish women in their 60s....it was great. Soooo funny. I wish I would've had my camera–I would've gotten some video. We were sitting in the balcony, and on the far side there were 5 ladies having the time of their lives, dancing and clapping. So after intermission 3 guys from our group went over and sat with them and joined in on the fun. Then everyone on OUR side of the balcony started copying them. It was hilarious to watch...especially when the band played "Twist and Shout." You probably had to be there. :)

Tomorrow after church we're headed to Powerscourt–the mansion used as the Counte of Monte Christo's house in the lastest version of the film (Heidi, are you jealous :) I'm really excited...too bad we don't get to land in an air balloon like he did, though.

Later!

p.s. my header panoramic picture is from the top of Djouce Mountain...yeay!

Braveheart Country and College Work To Da Max

2008-09-26T00:43:00.005+01:00

Well aren't I a naughty girl, neglecting my blog when I've so much to tell! I've done a lot since my last blog–I've been to see the famous monastic Celtic art of the Book of Kells, rusty old Viking swords in a Dublin museum, and I've slept a total 5 of the last 40 hours. Yippee! Parent's Weekend started today, and while it would've been nice to see my family, I'm gleefully looking forward to being an "orphan." No offense, Mom and Dad!

Yesterday we drove out to Sally Gap, the landscape used in Braveheart. Djouce Mountain overlooks beautiful country from Dublin to Wicklowtown. We had limited time to hike around the area, so I and 3 other guys half-jogged our way up the Djouce. I was pretty tired by the end but the view was sooo worth it! The summit was covered in clouds, but for a few minutes they cleared to give us a beautiful sight of the sea, plains and mountains–looking, to use a Lewis phrase, "like gigantic pieces of jewelry." Photos, even video couldn't capture it. Then I hiked and ran down the mountain, enjoying the challenge of leaping from stone to stone without killing myself. :)

Back down on a grassy outcrop overlooking the blackwater of Lough Tay, I realized that I'm not much of an ocean-girl. Granted, I've loved taking walks along the coast and getting up to watch the sun rise over the Irish sea, but to me the ocean is a barrier, saying, "You cannot go farther; this is the end of the road." Give me rather the limitless hills and beckoning mountains! They challenge me to continue onward. The longer I hike the more energized I become. There's no way I would've jogged along the beach, but the clear, cool air and summits in sight compelled me to eagerly pursue the path onward. I don't really know what this insight means, but I thought it was an interesting aspect of myself that I hadn't quite realized before.

So last night I officially pulled my first college all-nighter: working 12 straight hours on a history test! I was actually suprised how awake I felt, sitting alone downstairs at 5:00 in the morning. I crashed after lunch and got some sleep in, which carried me through the hype of everyone's parents' arriving, dinner, and watching a movie with maybe half the group. My legs are sooo sore and I'm sure my body needs way more rest than it'll get tonight. I'll probably be a wreck tomorrow when we go to Dublin. :)

Well, it's off to bed. Hope I didn't bore you with this looong post...shorter and more often in the future, perhaps?

Love to everyone at home,

p.s. I have some good pictures to upload but the internet is not strong enough to get them up. I'll try again tomorrow!

Food for Thought..

2008-09-15T11:05:00.003+01:00

In our "Foundations of Christian Thought" class we are reading and discussing Mere Christianity. I read it my freshman year, and it's been great for me to reread it and pick up what I didn't understand earlier, and to be reminded of things I'd understood but forgotten. Here's a little blurb that made me think...

"Most of man's psychological makeup is probably due to his body: when his body dies all that will fall off him, and the real central man, the thing that chose, that made the best or worst out of this material, will stand naked. All sorts of nice things which we thought our own, but which were really due to a good digestion, will fall off some of us: all sorts of nasty things which were due to complexes or bad health will fall off others. We shall then, for the first time, see every one as he really was. There will be surprises." -Lewis

Sometimes I–raised so blessed, with Christian upbringing and security and hope–take advantage of my easy life and only live at the minimum standard of Christlikeness. Lewis reminded me that God put people in all kinds of situations, but each of them needs to strive for their potential, scorning the human idea of "a good life" and joining the ranks of those like Mother Teresa, of whom the world looks at in confusion and awe. That is the normal Christian life–truly exerting each day to consciously hurdle the "enough" standard and reach out to the world as Christ did.

Friday: A Day of the Mind

2008-09-13T01:43:00.002+01:00

Today has been...FULL. We took our first ride on the DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) train and went to Dublin for a few hours on a scavenger hunt. I learned two things: the capital of Ireland seems barely larger than Indy, and never ask locals for directions because they send you in circles. They're just really BAD at giving efficient directions. but we had a lot of fun getting lost, singing "Molly Malone" with a local next to Molly's statue, and talking to a guy in a top hat. I really enjoyed the DART ride–the track runs right along the sea the whole way–and i liked the atmosphere of Dublin itself.

After dinner a few of us went over to the Nazarene church in Greystones and saw a play/musical written by a college student that attends there. She was actually inspired by Lifehouse's "Everything" drama...which I did with the IMPACT team in Mexico! It was neat to have seen the U.S. drama performed in Mexico and Ireland–and then another ISPer did it in India during a mission trip. I think it's cool that one drama can relate to so many people literally across the world. It was also neat to see a church at work here...a lot of high schoolers were involved, and it was clear that the play was an outreach to the people of Greystones.

When we got back from the church, a bunch of students were just starting to watch Blood Diamond: a fairly recent film based on diamond smuggling in Guinea. I only planned to watch a few minutes, but I ended up watching it all. A lot of the film deals with children armies (invisiblechildren.com) and the atrocious civil warfare that wracks the continent. It definitely unsettled me. And yet I know tomorrow, along with everyone else who watched it, I'll do nothing to make a difference. I guess a lot of our inaction is because we don't think we can help much, or we don't know how. But I think stopping there is a pretty lazy excuse. For the past few days I've had this ache in my heart for Something More. I'm so tired of living life at the lowest standard of passion...living like I'm just trying to get by in life. "Are my own needs met? Well good, let me go buy a new CD." But this desire's been burning in me–the desire to live an adventure, now, on this earth...I don't want to waste my life. I don't even want to "achieve" in the world's eyes. I want to live life on the edge, totally sold out to Christ, in a place where failure to continually trust him could be life-or-death. Sometimes it seems like the only "adventures" to be had are in fairy tales...but then I watch something like Blood Diamond and I'm reminded that there's a need for heroes here and today. Unfortunately, right now I have to be patient, continue school, and listen for what God has for me.

Church and Random Updates

2008-09-07T12:47:00.003+01:00

Well, we are finally in Greystones! The town is not exactly what I was expecting (I don’t really know what I was expecting, exactly) but it’s great and I’m really looking forward to being here. A 90 second walk takes me down to the seaside, and I can see sloping mountains.

I’m already enjoying the freedom to walk around town or by the beach whenever, and Coolnagreina (the YWCA building) is the perfect place for a bunch of college kids. Built in the 1840s, it has plenty of high-ceiling rooms, crooked hallways and fireplaces that give it a homey family feel. The family that heads up the Y is English, actually, and Jonathan and Lisa have two sons, 6 and 9 years old. I’m enjoying having young energy around: a thing most college kids miss out on at campus!

Church was really good today. There are about 7 churches in Greystones, and I decided to go the church Jonathan and his family attends. It was a drastic change from NMC: rather than dimmed lights in a cathedral-size gym, a near-professional band and videoed (and well rehearsed) sermons, Hillside Church is attended by less than 100 people, it’s walls and ceilings are the bare white, the band consisted of two guitars and a bass, and the pastor stood at the pulpit 10 feet from me and used a lot of scripture and no bulletin “fill-in-the-blanks” notes. I would’ve enjoyed having some blank paper, however: at present my right hand is covered–fingers included–with chicken-scratch notes. The sermon was on pride. He used many passages from James, like 3:13-17. A few points that hit me personally:

Pride keeps us from moving forward because we think we’ve done enough: prayed enough, worshipped enough, helped others enough. Pride is indeed the essence of adultery: we betray God and put our own self in his stead. In the U.S. Christians say, “All sins are equal in God’s eyes, except adultery is the worst.” Think about it: teenage mothers are incredibly shunned even in Christian circles. Perhaps not in deed, but certainly in attitude. And yet this is what each and every one of us is: we have rejected our Groom and have married ourselves to our own self. I could go on and on…it was a really good. I will probably go there for the rest of the semester, though there is another more “contemporary” church around. The sermon’s meatiness, along with the fact that it’s inspired me to really delve into the message throughout this week, confirmed in me that it’s where I’ll fit best. Plus the people are really friendly, and a few of us Taylor kids are already going over Friday to help repaint the kitchen. :) We already fit right in.

I don’t have time to mention our tour of the Connemara landscape but in brief. It’s a plain of solid granite. There’s no soil, and the little vegetation that grows on the constantly flooded rock is worthless for grazing. Early Irish inhabitants first had to clear an area, building stone walls as they did so; they then had to smash a trench out for drainage, and then pull up seaweed and sand to form a bit of soil to start with. The more I learn about Ireland and the work it took to establish oneself here, the more I understand the people’s deep love and connection with the actual land itself.

We also visited Clonmacnoise, the biggest monastic site in Ireland. It was mildly interesting but after awhile high crosses and roofless chapels are old. :) But it was definitely a worthwhile stop.

p.s. the one picture is the view outside my window in Greystones, the other is a group of us under the "Whispering Arch" at Clonmacnoise.

pps. sorry for the formatting in this post. I don't know what the trouble is.

Music and Murder

2008-09-02T11:30:00.005+01:00

So on Monday night we went to see a "concert" kind of like Riverdance; it had traditional Irish music andIrish dancing. It was AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I meant every one of those exclamation points. There were 5 musicians, and two or three of them are like, top notch I-was-involved-in-Riverdance-productions types, and the 6 dancers also were big namers–one of the guys was a lead in Lord of the Dance. But the crazy thing is that the violinist (Mairin Fahy) played with the Chieftains when I saw them at Notre Dame! Woah. Talk about coincidence. I didn't realize that she's the top fiddle-player in the country here. She is really good. I would've bought her CD if I'd had euros with me. But at least I got to shake her hand at the end and talk with her for a minute or two. It was great. Probably the most fun I've had so far, second to exploring Blarney Castle. :)

This week is a heavy load...we have a test and a lot of reading and writing to do for several classes. So if I don't update much this week it's because I have no life. :) Although last night about 25 of us played "Murder in the Dark" at about 11 pm. (2 or 3 people are designated murderers, the lights get turned off, and try to figure out who they are before you get killed.) I guess college kids always make time for fun :)

Ciao,

Hannah

Arran Islands and Hummus

2008-08-30T20:07:00.006+01:00

The past few days have been a nice break from classes and schoolwork. Yesterday we went out to the Arran Islands and biked pretty much all day.

For a good part of the morning the island was covered in mist, and I could only see the low, walled hills and flat, slick rock plains without any view of the sea. The cool mist covered my face and the rear tire flipped up water and mud as we careened down the road, trying not to brake too fast on the slick asphalt. Then we stopped for lunch at a beach, and the mist dispersed, giving us a clear view of the coastline and the sea. We biked to a ruined church, and stopped to walk among the high crosses and tall grass in the overgrown cemeteries. Though the group I was with got lost at least 3 times (we really didn't see many of the sites "worth seeing"), it was so nice to just bike, to absorbed the atmosphere and to pet the donkeys :)

That evening we gathered outside the apartment building and worshipped for awhile. One of the girls in the group challenged us all to remember our purpose while we're here–to dive into God and to live for Him. I felt convicted–I've spent so much time here focused on myself and what I can get out of this trip: not what I can put into it.

Today we went to the market that's held each weekend downtown. We got some great-tasting, fresh-baked bread, fresh strawberries and black olives, sausage and hummus for dinner. Then a few of us stayed downtown until almost 3:00, just hanging out, moseying around town and shopping. I had potato and leek soup (aMAZing!) and a scone for lunch...delicious. Now I'm sitting in my apartment watching a game of euchre. Definitely enjoying the freedom of college life!

Later, HB

Just class and socializing...

2008-08-28T19:02:00.002+01:00

Not much has happened this week. We've had class three days this week, but besides that we are free to study, hang out downtown, or whatever. Yesterday evening the RA's (upper classmen/graduates on the trip) and 2 of my roommates and I went downtown and played cards and mafia in a pub to the backdrop of Cuban music. It was nice just to hang out with people. Tonight all the girls are going over to "Apartment #7" for a girls' night, and we're going to watch "Penelope."

A few days ago all 30 of us crammed into my apartment to watch "The 13th Warrior," which is based on Beowulf. The sets, costumes, and weaponry and stuff was pretty sweet–very realistic to true Norse culture.

Our first professor is going back to Upland this weekend, and Vance Maloney–the "head honcho" of the Freshman Ireland Studies Program and the "Contemporary Ireland" prof–will be joining us for a while. Meanwhile, we've got art and history textbooks to work through. Since all of our profs also have classes right now at Taylor, they can only stay a few weeks at a time here.

Tomorrow we're heading out to the Aran Islands, where we can rent bikes and enjoy the sites on the 7-mile-long island. I'm looking forward to getting out, since I've mostly been at the apartments this whole week. Downtown is a good 15 minute walk, so it's not as easy just to step outside and stroll though town like we could in Killarney.

Well, better go! Later lads!

2008-08-25T17:12:00.002+01:00

It's always fun to go out on a limb! (Got pretty soaking wet in the process, but it was fun.)

Elevator trouble and the Cliffs of Insanity

2008-08-24T14:00:00.004+01:00

Ysterday was mostly a travel day; we moved from the southwest Killarney to Galway Bay, a tourist town on the west coast. But a few things of note did take place:

I, my roommate Lauren, and Professor Mark Cosgrove (he's hilarious, by the way) crammed into the small elevator with all of our luggage on the 4th floor. It went down about 7 inches and then stopped moving. We couldn't go up, down, or get the door open! So we stood around in there for about 15 minutes or so, just kind of waiting for something to happen. I thought it was pretty amusing :) So I can now say that I've gotten trapped in an elevator.

On the way to Galway we stopped at the Cliffs of Moher, which were shot as the Cliffs of Insanity in Princess Bride. People used to crawl out to the edge on their stomachs and peak their heads over the 700 foot drop to the sea. A few years ago, however, they stuck up fences and stuff because of erosion. When we got their it was raining hard (suprise), and the winds were so strong that a bunch of us had fun running and jumping off some stone steps. You get a lot of speed with those winds pushing you along!

So now we're in Galway, enjoying a late lunch after an Anglican service at St. Nicolas. I enjoyed it, but I'd really like to to learn more about the history of Christianity in Ireland up to the present day. Here you can't just take something by first impressions: everything is richly interlocked with it's history.

Well, gotta go study!

A few pics...friends, places, and a little artistic flair

2008-08-23T23:14:00.000+01:00

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Skellig Michael: Legacy of the first Celtic Christians

2008-08-23T22:11:00.005+01:00

Yesterday we went to the Skellig Islands, about 18 miles off the coast. They are two smaller isles, made mostly of rock and barely inhabitable. The smaller is a nesting hub for 50,000-some sea birds and some seals, but the other, Skellig Michael, was settled by a dozen or so monks in the 6th century. They laboriously built stairways to the top of one of the twin peaks (600 steps to the top, 700 feet above sea level!), and over generations they constructed a simple monastery and a high-walled terrace. The architecture is absolutely astonishing--and everything is built with dry-stone (no mortar, but it's still watertight and windproof today!!). But what really got to me was their lifestyle and purpose.

Early Irish Christians called themselves "warriors." Already well-aware of the spiritual realm (druids, etc.), these Christ-followers knew that there were great powers of darkness abroad--but also that the new, true God was all-loving and all-powerful. The monks at the Skelligs didn't hide away on island mounts to elude all ties to the rest of humanity: no, their mission was to forsake a life of luxury and worldliness so that they could devote almost every waking hour praying for the world spread out on the horizon. I can imagine them, climbing to the highest point on the island, the cool salted wind sweeping up the pinnacle and chilling their faces. They stretch their arms towards the western sky, standing at the edge of the world, interceding for the world behind them to "the Creator of Creation" (St. Patrick). They had connection with the mainland (the land barely sustained a garden and their was no freshwater source besides rain), but for the most part these men sacrificed their days to live like soldiers for the Kingdom. I can barely spend an hour in prayer for others! I was convicted--and simultaneously encouraged--by the legacy of those warriors, known in textbooks as "Green Martyrs" because they chose a living martyrdom to glorify and serve their God.

I came back down those 600 steps, knowing that the Irish monks join Abraham and the rest of the "great cloud of witnesses" (synonymous with "martyrs" in Greek) are cheering me on in my own run towards Christ.

Quick update to now...

2008-08-22T19:56:00.002+01:00

To get you all up to date, I'll give you a little excerpt from an email to my parents...

"Today we went on a GORGEOUS trip starting at Ross Castle and ending at the gap of Dunloe. We set out from Ross Lake, just outside the castle, in three small wooden boats. It was sooooooo sweet to motor across the three lakes, surrounded by the greenest mountains and great stones lying half-buried in the soft turf. I listened to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack part of the way....wow. It was like being in Middle Earth. Then we got off and had lunch, and then we set off hiking. We hiked up on a road barely large enough for a car (we were passed by several, and many horse-drawn carriages too). At one point two carriage drivers had brought two horses along, which were just plodding along unattended ahead of the carraiges. So Karen (one of our leaders, see my facebook pics) and I each walked along with the horsies. YEAY! It was so fun. About halfway through our 7 mile hike we got to our highest point, and then could see the whole of the Gap before us. It was an awesome sight. The pictures I got are awful compared to the actual view...maybe because it was raining--you just can't see the vibrancy of the colors and the magnitude of the 'scape. So anyway, then we hiked through the Gap, passed sheep pastures and a couple cottages. It was great...if I wouldn't have been with Taylor I would've explored a bit off-trail. :) That's the biggest rule of the trip, and it's going to be so hard for me!!!!!! We celebrated Katie Moore's birthday today...she turned 18. That was fun...cake! And then Katie M, Chelsea Moore, Daniel Rodman and Brayton (something) shared the FISP Irish family history that they made up. It's kind of a long story, but one day we were all sitting around and randomly started making up relations with each other. So the four of them made a grand thing with a family tree, biographies, even a coat of arms (actually Ian designed that)!

I really have enjoyed getting to know Brian, our bus driver. He knows SO MUCH history-he's been in the tour bus business for years, even owned a company for awhile. He lives in Dublin, so I hope some of us can go visit him sometimes when we're in Greystones."

Everyday we've traveled around the southwest of Ireland. We're staying in Killarney, and so far we've visited Blarney Castle (yes, I kissed the stone!), Muckross House (built by a British family during the Famine), and Ross Castle. It's been a lot of fun, but I think everyone's ready for a day off to sleep (and study)!

Later, HB

First Things First...

2008-08-20T21:58:00.000+01:00

Hey Friends and Family!

Now that I'm in Ireland, I think probably the best way to keep in touch with everyone is by blog. I plan to update when I can by letting you what we've been up to, what God's been doing in my life, and posting pics. It may feel impersonal, but feel free to email me whenever you'd like! I'll try to reply whenever I have the opportunity. Thanks folks!

Love, Hannah