Snowman's Nose: It's What's for Dinner

I knew going into this trip to Germany that it was going to be interesting and unique in many ways. For one, there's a bit of a language barrier despite my dad being from the land of bratwurst. I never really picked it up, but I have this ability to get by in the majority of situations. My go-to response unfortunately is nodding my head in agreement and saying okay, which has caused some conspiracy theorists in the family to assume I'm fluent and just refusing to respond in German. Clearly I didn't think through my use of this unconscious reaction, but then again, that's the point behind it being unconscious. Unconscious = no thought involved.
I've been here for a week and a half and have seen numerous Christmas markets spreading from Heidelberg to Wiesbaden to Frankfurt and Bad Homburg. The majority of my travel has involved taking the S-bahn, but I did opt to walk the three miles to Bad Homburg yesterday. I was just excited by the fact that the walking trail went through fields and over the autobahn, with little signs along the way telling me to only cross when it's green to set a good example for the children. I pity any New Yorker who ever comes to Germany.
As I neared Bad Homburg, I reached into my back pocket for my written directions to the Landgraves Castle, but they weren't there. I had to laugh at this because that would be something that would happen. Thankfully with my memory I knew the first two streets I was looking for and as I crossed Urseler Strasse, I realized that I didn't really need directions. For one, there were signs with arrows pointing in the direction of the castle. On top of that, with Bad Homburg being an older town made up of mostly houses, it's quite easy to spot a castle on the horizon. I felt like it was shouting, "I'm over here stupid." Needless to say, I made it to the Landgraves Castle and wandered the small Christmas Market being held in the courtyard before making my way to the Marktplatz and then on to the bahnhof for a ride back to Oberursel.
Upon arrival at Oma's, I realized that my aunt's car was parked outside so I prepared myself for listening to conversations that I would understand maybe one out of every twenty words, which definitely makes it hard to follow. Luckily my brother helped me out with translating when he could, and facial expressions help me realize that my relatives think I was crazy for walking over to Bad Homburg. But my favorite realization was the fact that Youtube videos are a universal language. My aunt happily showed me Crazy Cow and a trailer for Frozen (yes, even the Germans can't seem to let it go). Little did I know that Olaf would provide me with such a humorous talking point over dinner this evening. You see, with my minimal German, there are a handful of awkward silences when my brother and Oma aren't in the room. So when it was just my aunt and I tonight, I was determined to make conversation. My Oma had left a bowl of carrots on the table, so I pointed at them at said, "Olaf Nase." Apparently my aunt thought that was wonderful because soon after my comment, she was on the phone with her sister telling her that we were having Schneemann Nase (snowman's nose) with our bratwurst, sauerkraut, and mashed potatoes. This continued on even into dishing up our plates with food because she asked if I wanted some Schneemann Nase. In a land where you barely understand the language, it's important to be thankful for any positive contribution that you make in someone's day and I truly believe I succeeded tonight. It's the little things in life that keep you going and tonight I'm thankful for the laughter I was able to create thanks to me learning the word for nose and watching Youtube.

Island Life

I feel like I've been living in the Twilight Zone, minus the Rod Serling narration. Nowhere else in the world that I've traveled to has caused me to feel like I've been here forever and just arrived all at the same time. Island life seems to disorient me in the best possible way. I have no idea what day it is or what time it is the majority of the time. I go to bed with the sunset and wake up as it rises back into the sky. The simplicity of it all is the refreshment I needed after a chaotic summer along the Delaware River, accommodating the hustling, bustling inhabitants of New York City.
This experience has been full of so many unplanned adventures that I've almost lost track of them all. Never in my life did I actually picture myself snorkeling with a sea turtle, and yet that's exactly what happened on my very first day here in the Caribbean. I've learned how to budget and make delicious meals out of nothing more than a slice of bacon, two slices of cheddar cheese, and a soft tortilla. Rather than having cats share my living space, I've adjusted to the island inhabitants that include ants, mosquitoes, geckos, and cockroaches. The cockroaches and I have an understanding...they can come out and play while I work, but must hide in their sanctuaries when I'm home or else it's curtains to their creepy little life.
On top of all that, I've met so many wonderful people who enjoy adventure as much as, if not more than I do. Without forging these new friendships, I don't think I would have had half as much fun as I have so far. We've sung karaoke in order to earn a ride back home, wandered along beaches searching for coconuts, enjoyed happy hour at bars with swings instead of stools, rode in the bed of pickup trucks in order to go to a reggae concert, thrown a hurricane party, and hitchhiked when the bus has decided to not function on schedule. There's no place else where all of these events could occur and nobody would bat an eye, and I'm so thankful for this opportunity to discover a new part of the world. Now it's time to see what my last two weeks will bring here in St John.

An Ode to Soccer

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Battle on the Pitch

(An Ode to Soccer)

They dress in pressed uniforms and lace up polished boots

Hair styled to make a statement

Hoping to fuel propaganda

Evaluating many years of training

Sweat trickles down their brows

Lined up in formation, they march down the tunnel

Emerging onto the battle pitch

Enemies absorb their surroundings

Trumpets blare, voices thunder

Opposing forces waving flags

Tempers flare on painted faces

Listen to their violent cries

Stoic they stand while the anthems of nations play

Anxiously they wait to enter into combat

In the distance

Over the cacophony

They finally hear the whistle

The ground shakes

Opponents clash

The captain yells out orders

Attackers dive

Defenders lose ground

One side is heading to the slaughter

Battles rage on, day after day

Blood is spilled

Players ejected

Most dreams end in failure

Few move on, for the next round is reserved

For those who do not falter

Riots erupt, fueled by devoted followers

Refusing to accept defeat

Each day a new hero’s crowned

Worshipped across a nation

And in his hometown

At the culmination of a tumultuous month

The last victor stands triumphant

Hoisting the golden statue in the air – the symbol of a champion

That’s the beauty of the World Cup

The Simple Bliss of Home

I had an inkling two nights ago when my eyes began to ache, so I took my contacts out. And then I ended up dozing off on the couch around 7:30, which is unheard of for me. I awoke about two hours later with a lingering pain when I swallowed, and that's when I had to mentally admit that I'd caught yet another cold from a return flight. The price you have to pay for traveling, I guess.
The next morning I woke up with the full body ache and resigned myself to spending time on the couch, which was unfortunate because it was such a beautiful day and I hated to waste it. I napped on and off all day, but in the midst of my Bones marathon, I opted to take a blanket outside and lay in the sun until the wind felt like picking up and I had to once again venture inside. I thankfully had enough energy to make it to church in the evening to enjoy the Will Gaulkin Evangelistic Team put on an Irish Folk Concert at church. Even though I'm not Irish, I knew a bunch of the tunes that were played because I love that kind of music. It really put a smile on my exhausted face, especially being able to be there with my parents on either side of me. You see, when you are blessed with the opportunity to travel around the country, time home is sometimes sporadic, and must not be overlooked as a blessing in itself. It's not everyday that I can take in folk music with my parents, sick or healthy. On top of that, I need to remember what a beautiful area I live in, and I got that reminder tonight.
I can't quite put my finger on why, but this evening, I felt like a great weight was lifted off my shoulders. Maybe it was texts and emails with a friend who was thoughtful enough to inquire about my recent travels without me having to initiate the conversation. Maybe it was from watching The Help, which served as a reminder that people aren't always who you think they are. Maybe it was my health thankfully restoring itself quickly so that I feel like I have energy again. Or maybe it was the simple reminder from reading a blog post that we must take the time to enjoy every moment we have and think that where we are is exactly where we're meant to be on that particular day. It could be a combination of all of these things, but I almost feel like a completely new person, no longer concerned with what the world thinks and thankful for what blessings I do have in my life. Because let me tell you, focusing on that one thing you don't have in your life will sap all matter of energy out of your bones, and even your very soul.
Yet these things still aren't the best parts of my day. My favorite part of today involved a two minute walk to and from the mailbox tonight. In the dark. Right before midnight. Some of you might be city folk and gasping and the prospect of being female and walking alone at night. But if you're blessed with the opportunity to walk by yourself at night in the country, I suggest you take it because it's quite magical. Your senses are so keen to pick up the cool breeze on your face and the texture of rehardening gravel under your feet after an evening rain. And since spring has finally decided to make an appearance, the distinct sound of peepers can be heard near and far. Also, when you're three days away from a full moon, the night is by no means dark and scary. Sure, there are no city lights to illuminate your path, but I think it's even more beautiful to rely on the natural light of the moon. Plus, without street lights, you can actually see the brilliant stars up in the night sky that God intricately put into place.
My walk got me thinking, for once, not about what was missing in my life or where I should maybe be career wise. Instead, I looked forward to my summer that will be again spent along the Delaware River. I'm thankful for this one bit of consistency and the ability to make my own schedule, which should allow me to plan on having some friends visit in the summer to enjoy the great outdoors with me. I picture us kicking back in the bed of a pickup truck piled high with pillows to enjoy gazing at the night sky after roasting marshmallows over a campfire. What could be more adventurous than that? And to think, I am blessed with that opportunity in my own back yard. No need to travel thousands of miles. No need to make reservations. All I need to do is simply embrace the bliss that is my home.

Tales From the Fremont Troll to the Land of Pizza

Flash back to Saturday and I could be found in an overcast Seattle riding around in a Prius with Jimbo and his daughter looking for the Fremont Troll. For those of you unaware of this entertaining sculpture, it is a humongous cement image of a one-eyed troll under the Fremont Bridge that has an actual Volkswagen Beetle in its clutches. I have a tendency to lean toward odd tourist attractions for their sheer amusement factor, and it's even better when it's free of charge to visit. I waited for a few other tourists to snap pictures before I climbed up onto the troll hand to pose for the camera. Lana soon joined me and grabbed a sign that was on the ground to hold up. The sign said, "There is no prize." Whatever that means...
Our next stop for the day was Pike's Place Market. After a few U-turns, we found a parking lot with obnoxiously tiny stalls to park in. It would have been easier to climb out a sunroof than to open a door, but a digress. We ventured over a little overpass that we decided to name "The Catwalk" since there was a bunch of random street art portraying cats. One was supposed to be Marilyn Monroe standing by an air vent, another was a soldier, and then there was an office nerd. Continuing up the street we saw a restaurant named The Spanish Table and a store named Ugly Baby and La Ru. I'm still confused by it all, but I guess that's allowed.

Wandering around the public market on a Saturday probably wasn't the best idea given all of the people, so it was hard to maneuver. I seemed like every shop was burning incense of some form, but that doesn't mean I wasn't thoroughly entertained. I think my favorite part was when we wandered into this random art shop and there were two guys chatting. Since the shop was so small, it was hard not to overhear what was being discussed. Soon I was keenly engrossed in this extremely preposterous story that all started with some dude breaking the back window of this guys car in front of a cop. The guy who broke the window ended up getting arrested and going to jail for an unknown period of time. The man telling the story apparently had to pickup somebody from the airport the day his window was broken, so he was none too thrilled. Whenever the perpetrator got out of jail, I guess he kept telling the man that he would help pay for the $700 worth of damage he had done to the man's car. But that apparently will now never happen because one day the perpetrator, at the age of 42, got thrown out of the window of a building and died. The end, that was all the guy said before asking us if we needed help finding anything. Thankfully Jim answered him because I was too busy trying to stifle my laughter while my back was turned to him. I by no means find it funny that the man died, but the story was just so super random, it was hard not to laugh.
Soon we found ourselves wandering again, stopping in record shops and a book store. Lana and I both looked at kids books. I flipped through the lovely story Everybody Poops while she looked at a book about people farting. Why children's books have to be about bodily functions I'll never quite understand. As we wandered through the store, the clerk began asking us questions and singing some responses. I wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation, but then again, my life is always a bunch of awkward moments pieced together for the world's amusement.
Sunday we went to church, I helped stack some firewood, and had dinner with some other family. Monday was a beautiful sunny day, of course since it was the day before I left. Just to get the torture over with, Lana and I went to the mall to find a prom dress for her. Like me, she wanted to avoid pink and obnoxious sparkles. The thing about the mall compared to a thrift shop, though, is that it's hard to find what could be deemed a dress as opposed to a stripper outfit. JCPenney finally had something suitable in midnight blue, and then we took advantage of the sun and got some food to eat on the terrace. It was weird to actually be sweating while sitting outside. I don't think I've done that since last summer. On our drive home I caught glimpses of Mt Rainier in the distance and we restocked the icecream supply in the freezer.
When Jim got home, he did some yard before driving me to the town of Enumclaw in order to get a better view of Mt Rainier from the local fairgrounds. It was beautiful to see the snowcapped mountain off in the distance, rising up over the farms and pastures. We took the scenic route up SE Mud Mtn before making our way back to Renton.
Yesterday Jim was kind enough to drop me off at Sea-Tac for my flight home. I briefly chatted with a woman in front of me in line at security. I of course was in a line for one of the fancy X-ray machines, but hey, at least the TSA agent liked my mismatched socks, which made the experience not so bad. I read a bit while sitting at my gate until an announcement was made that my gate had changed to one in the other corner of that section of the terminal. I picked up my bags and wandered that way, picking up my book again to make the time pass.
We boarded around 8:30am and soon we were taxiing and taking off, bound for Newark International. I took some pictures of the Cascade Mountains as we flew over them before becoming engrossed in my music and playing Tetris. I saw some of the Great Lakes out my window during the middle part of the trip, too. I read a few pages of Undaunted by Christine Caine, and in no time, we were approaching the Manhattan Skyline. I got some pictures of the Empire State Building and the Freedom Tower. I also caught a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty before we banked right to head over New Jersey. I chuckled to myself as I recognized the one bridge I frequently drive across in order to get to the Lincoln Tunnel into the bustling metropolis of New York.

Once safely on the ground, I informed certain friends of my arrival like they requested before de-planing. I got a call from my brother telling me that he was stuck in traffic by the Holland Tunnel, so I made my way to the food court and made a beeline for Villa, which was serving pizza. I only ordered one slice, but it was huge and worthwhile. As I sunk my teeth into it, I was so happy to finally be back in the land of good pizza. Seattle made some decent attempts, but there is definitely something special about pizza made in New York. And with that, I knew I was close to home, and back where I belonged.

The Lumberjack Tourist

So far my first two days in Renton, WA, have been interesting. I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting out of the trip because I made no real plans other than booking my flights to and from Seatac. Okay, that's not totally true. I wanted to visit the Freemont Troll, too, but other than that, I was going about this trip day-by-day to see what it would present.
My first day, I slept in until 10am in order to beat jetlag before it had a chance to fully set in. I'm in a cozy little room and the end of the house, crashing on what would be a futon if I pulled it out, but I prefer sleeping on couches because I'm weird. After I showered, Jimbo asked if I wanted to go to the Museum of Flight since he had extra tickets. I was pretty excited about this prospect because my grandfather was an aerospace engineer who tested spacesuits with Northrop Grumman and then worked on F-14 tomcats and spiral staircase designs for Boeing.

Before the museum, we went to an eclectic diner named, Randy's. It had a sign proclaiming that they were "always open," which was tempting me to show up in the middle of the night to see if this was in fact true. Also, as we pulled into Randy's, there was this really cool drive thru Starbucks constructed completely out of shipping containers. It was a rather unique setup, but I digress. I enjoyed the interior of Randy's because it was decked out in military and flight memorabilia. There were books on the back of the benches to read if you were interested, and old bombshells and parachutes along the walls and floor. I enjoyed some french toast and bacon before we ventured over to the Museum of Flight.
Once inside, there was a man who kindly suggested that we check out the Amelia Earhart exhibit, since it was only going to be there for another week. Jimbo and I wandered down to that floor and spent lots of time gazing up at all of the planes suspended from the ceiling. We made our way to the exhibit, and in typical fashion, we managed to wander through it backwards. I enjoyed learning about her life and how she influenced aviation. It was intriguing to read her thoughts on marriage from a letter she wrote to her soon to be husband. From there, we went through the Space Exhibit, which was one of my personal favorites because my grandfather helped work on the original lunar excursion module, tested space suits, and knew a handful of the original astronauts from the Mercury and Gemini programs. Soon we wandered to the WWI and WWII exhibits, which explained how dogfighting in the air came into being. There were many stories about pilot survival rate, pilots witnessing their wingmen getting shot down, and differences in the planes utilized during both wars. After these exhibits, Jimbo and I took the skywalk over the road to check out the mockup of the space shuttle. I had to laugh at the awful music playing along the walkway; it was a step down from elevator music, all puns intended. It was amazing to see the capacity of the space shuttle and learn how much fuel it burned. We then ended our tour by wandering through the British Airways Concorde that was on the premises. There was some excess condensation in one of the windows, so Jimbo and I joked that it just needed some fish to turn it into an aquarium.
This morning I got up around 9am. Since the weather was decent, Jimbo and I opted to go do some tree work for a few of his clients. I was happy that I packed some plaid in order to maintain the classic lumberjack look. We stopped for breakfast at Jay Berry's and then made our way to the first job. I mostly supervised on the first tree, and took a few pictures to pass the time. For the second tree, I was manning the rope that was tied to the branches so they could be slowly lowered to the ground since they were so close to the guy's house. We then made a quick stop at Jimbo's mom's house for some pop and chit-chat before venturing to the last job. We needed to prune the top of a tree in this woman's yard, so I spent the second half of my afternoon up on a 12 foot ladder using a pruning saw and lopping sheers in order to cut off certain branches while Jimbo just climbed the tree like the monkey that he is. With teamwork, we cut the time of the job in half, and I was happy to learn a few new skills while helping out. I came home covered in sawdust, but was happy for my contribution to the work.

We finished off our day by going to see The Grand Budapest Hotel. As expected, it was completely, utterly, ridiculous, which was just what I was looking for. And as weird as this sounds, my favorite part involved Willem Dafoe and a cat...reminiscent of The Boondock Saints...sort of. But the whole feel of the movie was much like something out of Monty Python.

Faces in Airports

I’m currently writing this while I’m sitting at Gate A30 in Newark International Airport. This is the second airport in the past five hours that I’ve mingled in, but that mingling has evoked some interesting thoughts in my head that I felt the need to express and convey to others.

Earlier today, I was at JFK International Airport waiting for my brother to arrive from Germany. Up until yesterday I didn’t even know what airline he would be flying back on due to the Lufthansa strike. You see, the reason I’m in Newark is to fly to Seattle to visit a friend that I met while volunteering with Samaritan’s Purse. He’s been bothering me for a year to come visit so I could meet his daughter, since she always hears stories about us volunteering together. A few weeks ago he bothered me again, but I told him I’d get back to him since I was playing airport chauffeur for my dad and brother. I mentioned to my mom the possibility of going to Seattle and she jokingly told me to search for flights that were leaving the same day my brother was flying back. Low and behold there was a relatively cheap flight from Newark to Seatac, so I made the “plan” to pick up my brother and then make my way to Newark for an evening flight. The thing is, though, that plans don’t always go, well, as planned. And that’s been the story of my life, so I wasn’t surprised that two days ago my brother told me his Lufthansa flight home was already cancelled due to the strike and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Even though I had my “plan”, everyone in the family joked about how he would get home. My Oma figured he could just swim home, and my mom joked that maybe he would fly home via Australia in case the volcano in Iceland decided to erupt. Neither of those things happened, thankfully, so he booked a flight back on Singapore Airlines, our typical airline when traveling to and from Germany. To stick with the whole God-laughing-in-the-face-of-plans theme, my brother told me over lunch that he almost wasn’t able to fly back today because he accidentally booked for April 3^rd as opposed to the 2^nd, but the booking agent thankfully got him onto the flight today. But I digress.

While waiting in JFK, I did my usual people watching interspersed with reading. I’m currently reading Packing Light by Allison Vesterfelt, which is all about living life with less baggage, both literally and figuratively. What I noticed while I stood around Terminal 4 was, not only are there individuals from all over the world with different styles, religions, and skin colors, but they all have a variety of facial expressions. Without even talking to any of the people who were disembarking flights, I could tell exactly how they felt. Some looked exhausted from their international flights. Others looked exuberant, ready to explore a new found city on their travel itinerary. Then there were my favorite, the joyous reunions between family and friends. You can just watch their faces light up with immense joy to be reunited with those that they loved. Still, there are others who, when you gaze into their eyes, you can sense a low-level panic just beneath the surface. For those individuals, I imagine they either aren’t comfortable traveling alone, or they are starting their lives over and are overwhelmed by all of the unknowns within their future. So many faces surround me, and they all hold their own story.

As I sit at gate A30, though, the faces are still different. Many look serious, probably in an attempt to get some work done while waiting for boarding. Others are kicked back attempting to relax while they wait. Some are sipping on overpriced beverages that they bought at the nearby food court, probably secretly hoping they won’t have to make a bathroom run too close to boarding. Parents entertain young children, while others shut themselves out from the world around them using any means possible, but typically this is in the form of headphones, laptops, or smart phones. Everyone desperate to connect with people, just not with those on the seats adjacent to where they’re at.

I hope that there are others who take the time to be as observant as me, willing to take in their surroundings and not miss anything amid the hustle and bustle of daily life. We are so easily consumed by distractions that we hardly ever take the time to look into someone’s face, let alone their eyes, to truly get a sense of how they’re feeling. The face tells no lies, whereas communications through devices are always deceiving. 

As I close this airport ramble, it is my hope that you will take the time today to not be so selfishly engrossed in your own world, but rather to take a minute to look outside it. Share a friendly smile or head nod with someone, or any other sort of acknowledgement so that you each know you’re not in this daily battle alone.