Lugano

My friends Alyssa, Laura, Elle, and I traveled to Lugano for our last weekend to get away! We soaked up the sun, tried to study, but mostly just had a great time being with each other.

Our activities included, but were not limited to, paddle boating on Lake Lugano, listening to street performers, making dinner in Laura's cousin's apartment, and dancing to playlists we made on our iPods.

What a great way to wrap up the year. These girls are awesome, and I really enjoyed getting to know them, and wait with eager anticipation for our reunion in Malibu in August.

Basel

On my French literature class’s field trip to Basel, although with a lot of transit time for one day, we toured the old city, cathedral, and Jean Tinguely Museum. It was a wonderfully sunny and warm day, and we all had fun trying to explain to each other how we felt and what we were thinking in French, because we were required to speak en français toute la journée. In our exploration and observation of Basel, we chuckled about our ineptitude and how despite the fact that our teacher sometimes had a hard time understanding what we were talking about; we could easily communicate among ourselves with our “Franglais.”
The museum, which I can confidently say is one of my favorites from this time in Europe because Tinguely’s pieces were so unique and clever, was made up of two exhibits. Tinguely was a machine artist and quite creative with old pieces of metal and other things. Hannah Höch’s Dada compositions filled the top floor of the museum. She put together collages with interesting characters, and was known for being an effective surrealist and Dada artist (which includes those who created pieces of art post-WWI, and rejected the conventional forms of art, choosing to emphasize the bizarre and absurd).
Tinguely’s level also had several art-making machines on display. There was a room filled with destroyed plates, chairs, cups, and various household items and two destroying machines. Museum visitors could choose an item to destroy under a mallet or a claw, and then leave it to add to the interactive yet provoking room deemed “art.” Another was a simple lever screwed to the wall with paintbrushes on the end, and every 15 minutes, the brushes dipped down into a bowl of paint, and slapped up on the wall, painting an interesting and modern splotch there.
All in all, a fun trip, another good group of kids, and an opportunity to see another Swiss city!

Easter Holiday

I am back from another lovely weekend in Rüti, where I spent the Easter break with families Honegger and Jakob. It was fun to see them again, and I was pampered, again.
On Good Friday, Kathy, Ruedi, and Susanne took me to a performance of Bach’s Passion from the gospel of John. Although in German, I enjoyed the voices, especially the resounding notes from the deep voice of the base, who played the part of Pontius Pilate. The concert was really long, but well-done.
The next night, after Kathy and Ruedi skied with me at a nearby mountain, Alzmannig, we drove to a cloister in Rapperswil. Each night at nine, the monks put on a worship/meditation service open to the public. I didn’t understand what the reflection was about until afterwards, but we participated in a circular dance and spent some time listening to chanted music and soothing sounds. Yet another experience that I would have not been able to do unless with locals and a family who is in tune with what is interesting. Thanks Kathy and Ruedi for exposing me to yet another facet of Swiss culture! In my time there, I participated in a few Easter traditions different from my own. The most memorable were centered on hard-boiled eggs. Instead of dying eggs various colors from a kit you pick up at the grocery store, we wrapped eggs in nylon, and pressed leaves and flowers against the shells. Then, the eggs were boiled in an onion skin and water pot for 7.46 minutes (Ruedi’s instructions). After cooling, we cut the nylon off and found the prints of the plants on the shells! On Easter afternoon after a church service and entertaining brunch with the grandparents of Susanne and Simon, we commenced in the annual egg-throwing activity. In a snowy field nearby, we took a dozen hard-boiled eggs and threw them out into the field as far as we could. Object of the game: break the shell. Surprising fact: eggs flung a long distance multiple times don’t necessarily break as quickly as you might think. Once broken, however, you were free to sprinkle salt on it and enjoy.
Monday came too quickly, and I spent the day with family Jakob, all of whom showed up for lunch and an afternoon together. Being a part of their rendezvous made me feel again at home, and it was fun to see that Manuel and Cedric have been growing up in my absence. It will be fun to see them when they are grown. Thank you Vreni and Werner for your hospitality; again, what a wonderful time I was able to cherish at Tannenberg.
egg throwing!

Romania

To effectively describe this Eastern European country in a short post is impossible. Especially since I only spent one week there, and was so well taken care of, it is going to be difficult to reproduce an accurate snapshot. Throughout the week, I found myself trying to compare the landscape to places I’d visited, or movies I’d seen, to try and relate this lifestyle to any other I’d discovered in my year in Europe, but it was to no use. I was in an entirely new and fascinating part of the globe, and it was wonderful! There are some things that I do know I can take away from this time, though: we were loved by a family, taken in as members, able to see the gentle and patient nature of the people of Romania, and given the chance to cherish the love shared under God’s banner there.
My dear friend Alyssa and I spent our spring break in Sambatine, a small village of 2000 about 15 minutes outside the Western Romanian city of Arad. We were hosted in the loving and caring household of Jim and Nelly Foster, and were interim sisters of Becky and Rachel, ages 13 and 8, respectively. As a part of this family, we were given a small glimpse of rural life, and what a farming village in post-communist Romania looks and feels like. We drank the neighbor’s milk (and also met and milked the cow one night), ate eggs from the chickens we saw pecking around outside, and attended the school for one day. The home had an in-house running water pump and a septic system of sorts, but Sambatine as a village does not yet have running water. The roads are gravel and the trees trunks are painted white to make the streets more beautiful. The village was surrounded by farming plots (called gardens), where corn and wheat will abound in the late summer. When we were there, the land was freshly tilled, ready for the spring seeding.
Nelly graciously cooked some traditional Romanian meals for us, so that was fun to try some new foods. I think the roasted bell pepper, carrot, squash, and other vegetable spread was my favorite of them all.
Alyssa and I went running one morning from one end to the other, and as we dodged potholes and mud puddles, some of the people looked at us with some odd faces, since that’s not a common pastime there, especially after a day in the fields or with the animals, recreational activity ranks low.
Nelly is the principal of the K-8 school in the village, as well as the biology and chemistry teacher for the older kids. One day, she took us to school with her, where Rachel also attends. We sat in on Rachel’s second grade class, and watched as kids completed their Romanian exercises and math problems between backward glances toward us at the back of the classroom. Much to our dismay, we didn’t know Romanian (and our French knowledge only aided with a handful of words), so when these kids asked us questions during their break time, we were unable to even think about trying to respond. {Rachel and Becky are both bilingual, so our communication back at home was not hindered at all.} Luckily, Rachel translated some things for us, so we had a vague idea of what was going on. But, as with any second grade kid, you never know what to expect; these kids were pretty as rambunctious and curious, and Rachel made sure to point out which kids to ignore (usually the ones that were out of control, or obviously troublemakers). Later in the day, we were asked to teach to them some English songs in their music class. We started with Old MacDonald and all the corresponding animal noises. Things went well until the teacher decided to leave us alone with the kids. At the moment she left, the classroom exploded in excitement, as if the children were left to behave how they wanted (and why wouldn’t they think anything differently?). We were two powerless adults in a room of Romanian-speaking 8-year-olds all vying for attention needing to go outside to run around. Needless to say, we were relieved when Nelly stepped in to tell us it was time to leave. Those kids were quite the handful.
Jim is the pastor for the Lord’s Army group in Sambatine, as well as a Bible Study leader and occasional speaker for events such as baptisms, graduations, weddings and anniversaries. The Lord’s Army was started in the 1920s, and was an underground entity during the Communist period in Romania. Although the country’s governmental and social situation is changed from those times, the Lord’s Army is still in competition with the Orthodox, Pentecostal, and Baptist churches in Romania. As a strongly evangelical group, often, leaders of the other churches disagree with their messages, and make preaching and attempts at spreading the gospel and word difficult. He moved to Romania in 1993 after previously living in the Bay Area where he was a friend of my parents. My dad and he took two trips to Romania in the late 80s, and that is how I was lucky enough to stay with the Foster family. He is such a patient and gentle man, and he is the true mark of a person who has let God guide his footsteps. God is present in his life, and his story is a testament to the fact that God does indeed have our best interests and deepest desires in mind. What a blessing it was to witness such a faithful family so set on seeking God’s will in their lives.
Thank you Fosters for such a wonderful time in Romania! Although there are loads upon loads of stories to tell, this will just have to suffice, what fun would it be if I told every second of every weekend here? The memories created there will seep out as time goes on, and forever will be a part of who I am, continually making themselves known as I experience different things, and meet people in my life. Stories from this time in Europe will now lace my conversations, and hopefully some of the lessons I’ve learned will play a part in the decisions I make in the future. Each weekend is tearing back another layer of God’s character and revealing his deep and great love for us, and I will miss the rich experiences of this year, but will surely remember them with fondness. The most exciting thing in life, though, is not the times of the past, but rather the assurance that God has fascinating elements to add to our character in the future, and all He asks us to do is be confident in the perfect plan He has for each of us. This time abroad has shown to me the importance of living with abated breath, eyes peeled and ears perked to God’s mercies and wonders. How much more would we be in awe of His creation and great love for us if we lived a life in continual acknowledgement of His presence?

This next weekend will be spent with the Honeggers and Jakobs in Ruti; I feel like I’m headed home for the Easter holiday! I hope that you too enjoy the time spent celebrating the resurrection, and rejoicing that He is risen.

Until next time,
jo

we went to the kindergarden one day to watch their mother's day performance. It was beyond adorable.

They sang songs too...

Germany

After a long silence from this end, here's a post from my trip to Germany finally:

Southern Germany was a charming area, starkly what one thinks when the word ‘European’ is spoken: cobblestoned squares, medieval castles, outdoor dining, foreboding yet beautiful buildings, and a well-oiled train system.
Our first stop was in the town of Baden-Baden: direct translation, Bath-Bath. And that’s exactly what we came for. Robin, Laura, and I made our way through an Irish-Roman bathhouse from hot to cold pool, scrub-room to relaxation station, where they wrapped you in warm towels and let you nap for a while. There were several nice hotels and other spa facilities in the town, and a pedestrian area lined with restaurants and shops for the travelers. We expected a small place with only the spa there to justify a train stop there, but found ourselves pleasantly surprised. It sat on the banks of the Rhine with plenty of green space (because there’s much more room in Germany to spread out), and a nice city center.
The night was spent in Heidelberg, where Pepperdine also has a program. We walked around in the forest the next day, gazed down onto the Necker River, wandered the old town, and grabbed a bretzel and hot cocoa before heading back to Switzerland.
A relaxing trip, it was neat to see Germany, and appreciate the breathing room, and enjoy the company of my traveling mates!
My spring break was also quite relaxing, but the post is not ready yet. Thanks for being so patient with me! I will post pictures as soon as I can, and some of the stories will come later.

Cinque Terre, Italy

Equipped with a full CamelBak (backpack water reservoir system), 5 wonderful and enthusiastic hiking partners, and tightly knotted shoelaces, I embarked on the breathtaking and lovely 9 km hike from Riomaggiore to Monterosso on a trail that curved along the coastline. We trekked over rocks, into ravines, through olive and grape vineyards, and past many a cute and colorful seaside town. This path was ours alone for the day, as well as any of the main streets of the five towns we encountered; it was the peak of off season, and we were free to enjoy the Italian Rivera without any tourist crowds, lines, or congestion. The hike was a perfect activity to make this last weekend one of the most relaxing, memorable, and beautiful that I’ve spent here in Europe.
When we arrived on Friday evening in Riomaggiore, town one on the southern end of the five, Patricia, our landlord, led us to our apartment, tucked away in the typical and narrow Ligurian alleyways called carrugi. It was steps from the harbor, where we watched the sun sink into the sea both nights we were there.
And we did get our pesto! When we had sufficiently scoped out the town, we dropped into the Cinque Terre Coop grocery store and picked up pasta and locally made pesto to cook for ourselves in our kitchen. It’s been said that the Genovese grow their basil plants on their back porch, and pick a few leaves from it to make fresh pesto. I tell myself that the pesto we ate was made like that.
Just a petite summary from a fun weekend; feel free to check out my pictures!

Greece

Yassas! I have just recently returned from a trip to the lovely country of Greece. I didn’t know what to expect going there, but found mountainous terrain, and gorgeous islands. We stayed for four nights in Athens on this Educational Field Trip, and set out each day with our guide, Marimina Papastamou, to discover another part of history and another facet of this diverse and beautiful place. It’s great to finally set foot where Paul walked thousands of years ago, and where Socrates and Plato once shared their ideas with their followers.
Although the day we spent walking through the Acropolis and the Ancient Agora marveling at the ruins and imagining the Greeks holding the Panathenaic Games on the same stones upon which we were stood was memorable, I particularly enjoyed the three Greek Islands we visited (Poros, Hydra, and Aegina).
The day began early (but, come to think of it, all our days were quite full), and our group of 60 boarded the coach, and set off for Athens’ port, Piraeus. We boarded a boat, and began our one-day cruise; an experience that will be hard to ever match. The weather was temperate, cool enough to be wearing a light jacket, but warm enough to spend most of the time basking outside watching the coastline slip away into the fog. The entertainment on the boat was especially unique, as they knew full well that we were, indeed, a captive audience. (I will include a short clip of our onboard pianist …it really is too bad you couldn’t listen to his rendition of YMCA or Cha-Cha Slide) Nevertheless, once we realized the real enjoyment was in approaching these islands, letting the wind graze your face, and anticipating an island harbor town, we steered clear of the performer and his keyboard. The islands we visited were relatively small, and just as colorful as any postcard. Everything was painted white, ranging from the stairs that wind up the hillside to the walls with overgrown geraniums and cats sitting atop, and each of the homes. The doors are painted blues and greens, and all so seemingly welcoming, as if I could just knock, walk in, and have a cup of Grecian coffee (with grinds at the bottom of the cup that you shouldn’t drink) on the patio that looks over the ocean and catch the sonorous horns of the boats as they approach the docks.
The food we ate was fresh and wonderful; I especially liked the Greek salads of red onions, cucumbers, tomatoes, capers, and fresh feta cheese. My friend Alyssa and I found a back alley sweet shop on the island Aegina and savored a piece of baklava drizzled with honey and simply divine.
I also summitted a mountain in the middle of Athens one day. I climbed a few staircases and walked on a trail that weaved through cactuses and prickly bushes to where a flapping Greek flag stood in front of a white marble church. 360 degrees of Athens lay at my disposal, and it was a whole different perspective to see the Acropolis and Olympic Stadium from above, a picture-perfect Athenian landscape. The Aegean Sea was at the horizon while the 60s-style buildings, principally ivory and white colored, filled in all the gaps between the outcroppings of rocks, mountains, and occasional ruin. I was able to stand atop the highest viewpoint in the great metropolis of Athens.
As I looked out on the Plaka, the Acropolis, and the ruins of the Temple of Zeus, I couldn’t help but wonder what life was like in the time of the Ancients. With such commanding edifices on hills of limestone towering above the people, with how much regard, respect, and awe did they place upon their gods? This makes me think about my own life: how do I lift my Lord up, set Him on high, so that all can’t help but see Him as I live from day to day?

A thought from a mountaintop in Greece…
{We visited other places, so you can see the pictures from there if you so desire. Enjoy the photo album; it’s a big one this week.}

I’m hopping on a train to Riomaggiore, Italy tomorrow to enjoy the Liguria region, and hike the trail between the Cinque Terra towns! Rick Steves will be proud of my weekend trip choice. Well, I guess its adio for now!

Unfortunately, I failed to purchase his cd. I may regret that choice years from now, but at this moment, I'm ecstatic that this is the only memory I have of him.