Greece, Part II

After a very hot, very tiring and hungry-making afternoon, we ate dinner quickly because the dining room downstairs was being set up for a wedding reception. As we had vespers in the top story of the hotel, where the classroom is, the party began downstairs and from my balcony, I could hear the music quite clearly; Greek music is awesome, so far as I'm concerned. They were there, I was told, until 3:00 AM--and that's normal for a Greek wedding reception. There's going to be one in our classroom tonight, and already I feel sorry for the teachers who will be trying to sleep on that floor.

This morning we went into Athens to celebrate the Sabbath with the Adventist congregation here. They're not easy to find, as there are only 300 Adventists in the entirety of Greece, and all very hush-hush, as Greek Orthodox is the state religion. The English-speaking congregation was very welcoming at Sabbath school, including us in their class discussion. For the main service, we joined the rest of them in the main sanctuary, and the service was all in Greek. That was interesting at first, but as I couldn't hear the interpreter, got a little dull after a while.

Their music was beautiful, though, and their communion was top-rate; I almost wanted to ask what they did to the bread to make it taste so much better than the wafers we use in the US, but again, I don't speak Greek. The ordinance of humility finally got me introduced to the the few other girls on this trip; the ratio of men to women is something crazy, like 20:6. The potluck was really good, though it wasn't Greek food; rather, it was a mixture of dishes from the many different ethnic groups represented by the English-speaking congregation.

After potluck, two of the teachers and I decided a nap's too boring for Sabbath, and went to see some archaeological sites instead. We started with the ruins of a library, which I found amusing, as I worked in one this last year (a library, not a ruin) and the Roman Agora, with its famous wind tower. There, one of the teachers explained to me, free of charge (har har), how the Greeks and Romans attached their columns so that they stood so well--it was an iron peg with lead filled into a groove running into the hole at the base, very cool. He also explained the difference between Greek and Roman building materials--the Romans used bricks, whereas the Greeks did not. That is why the Greek structures are so much sturdier than the Roman structures. The most amusing part of this site to me was the ancient latrine--makes sense, in its own way.

The Ancient Agora was a huge and incredibly awesome site. I took more pictures than I needed, and probably won't be able to identify much of what is in them within a few days, but wow, it was all I could do to appreciate all the statues I was seeing, not to mention the Colonnade. The Colonnade is an ancestor to the modern shopping mall--the idea of it is to have shade for the venders to sell their wares so that the people would, being more comfortable, be more likely to buy. Getting a bit dehydrated and sweating in the sweltering heat, I fully understand their logic.

The temple of Zeus slightly above the Agora is really impressive, as it is so well-preserved. The building had a certain depth to it that was hard to capture on camera, and the view from it of the Acropolis is incredible. When worship of Zeus passed out of practice, it was used for several purposes--among them, burial for Protestants and later as a museum. To my amusement, the largest building of all (or what used to be, as all that remained of it were the stones at the base) was the bureaucratic headquarters. Our last point of interest was a very, very old Greek Orthodox church which, if I'm not mistaken, was the first--very interesting.

We got a little lost on the way back, but it gave us an opportunity to look at some of the local color--the cafe's which weren't about coffee but cold drinks (because of the sweltering heat), the bright textiles, the jewelry shops, the artifact-replica shops, and so many different types of sandals. I shall have to return there with money on a day which is not the Sabbath sometime, as I would like to explore it further. When I got back here, though, I was so thirsty I drank an entire liter almost in one go, and already I'm starting to get thirsty again; thankfully, dinner will be soon, and I am ready for it! Wish you all well, and hope you had a happy Sabbath.

Greece, Part I

At long last, I have made it to Greece, but not without one more slap in the face from Iberia airlines. It turned out that the connecting flight they gave me did not leave until seven or eight hours after I sent out my Quick Update letter to all of you; the flight I thought I was supposed to be boarding then was going to Malaga, not Athens. Fun. . . not. Cool airport, but not the world's most comfortable place to hang out in for seven or eight hours. Such is life! It felt good to get on the plane at last, practicing my Spanish on two teachers on vacation from Barcelona. When I saw my name on the card the woman from our travel agency was holding, I almost cried that I'd finally, finally made it.

My room mate, Damali, helped me get oriented--thankfully, I had arrived just in time for our first tour, a day which incidentally (and thankfully) had no class. I am so glad I made it to this one; this tour made all the bother with Iberia along the way worth it. I could not believe my luck, to see the Acropolis my first day in Greece.

Along the way, our tour guide gave us notes about the local culture and history, which runs deep into the past. I never realized how much the Olympics helped Athens clean up as a city. We saw the original 1893 Olympic stadium, all made of marble. Another thing she pointed out that I found fascinating was how when they began to dig for the subway there in Athens, they found artifacts from many different periods, and the subway construction project soon became an archaeological one as well.

It's amusing to see the way the Greeks park; they park anywhere. They double-park, park on the sidewalks, anywhere. They do get parking tickets, and have stacks of them at home, but if they did not park this way, they never would park. I can see now why public transportation is so popular here.

The Acropolis, in Greek, basically means "the highest point in the city." The first thing we saw there was an ancient amphitheater, which is still used for concerts to this day. For those concerts, they have started to forbid women to wear high-heeled shoes because of the damage they do to the very, very old stone. The rest of the Acropolis was in the process of being refurbished, as many of the old stones being used to complete the various structures, but with new marble to keep it more structurally sound. The Parthenon is actually more impressive to see in person than in photographs; it really does earn its place as one of the architectural wonders of the world. Their use of perspective is incredible.

The part of the Acropolis that impressed me the most, however, was not the Parthenon, but a rock. What's so exciting about a rock? Well, this particular rock happened to be both particularly large and also, incidentally, the rock where Paul stood when he came to Athens and, after seeing all these temples to the various gods and found one to an unknown God and said, "Now what you worship as something unknown, I am going to proclaim to you." (Acts 17:23). It's one thing to read this story in the Bible; it is quite another to be there, to see the place myself and to look out on what Paul saw. It just makes it so. . . real.

Damali took me into downtown Glyfada (which is the town where we're staying), so I could exchange money and we could purchase lunch. I've always liked Greek food, and actually eating it here only makes me love it more. Sure, I'll probably be sick of gyros and dolma by the time we get out of here, but for now, the mere mention of either makes my mouth water. I spent the afternoon studying on our balcony, looking at the pure blue Aegean Sea. The only stretch of ocean I've seen this color was in Hawaii, and even that was not quite so blue.

This morning I had my first class; all things considered, it doesn't seem like it will be too nasty a course to keep up with, even though it's Biblical Greek. The translations are longer than anything I ever did in one sitting at PUC, and we go into more detail with things, but otherwise, Greek seems to be Greek, whoever teaches it on whatever level. Heh. Anyways, enough time to talk about class and everyday stuff later; for now, I'd just like to thank all of you for praying, as those prayers are probably what finally got me here. I hope each of you has a wonderful weekend, and I wish you well.

Greece, the Prologue

Why, you may ask, is this merely a prologue to Greece? Shouldn't I already be there, making this Part I?

Every now and then a real doozie of a travel story comes along. This is mine:

Saying good-bye to my mother in the airport in Oakland, I got through security without a single problem. The flight to Chicago went smoothly, we landed on time, and I marvelled at how well my first time flying alone was going.

I spoke too soon.

Just as I was starting to move towards the gate for boarding, an announcement came over the system. It said something to the effect of, "The flight to Dulles is being delayed due to weather in the midwest. We apologize for any inconvenience." The announcement went on to say that it wasn't just a slight delay, it was two and a half hours. Once I got to Dulles, this left me just an hour and fifteen minutes to make the connection.

My first stop was Iberia, to let them know I was coming. I got blank stares, but thought little of it--I had to recheck my baggage, and do it fast. Fortunately, Aunt Faith, a long-time family friend who lives in the area, surprised me there to greet me and help me get my bags and get to the ticket counter. I became incredibly grateful for this, and you'll see why.

We got to the Iberia counter 50 minutes before the flight, and there was still one agent there. However, he said stubbornly, "We're closed. The flight's closed. Southwest was late; it's their problem." It didn't matter if we addressed him in English or in Spanish, his native tongue--he set the closed sign on the counter, and left us there.

If it weren't for Faith, I probably would have given up right there. Fortunately, she was there and took me to the Southwest counter, where an incredibly kind Southwest baggage office supervisor, Wanda Cox, got on the phone and did everything in her power to get me out of there. The poor woman grew increasingly agitated as Iberia essentially gave her a brick wall.

She was determined, though, and emerged with a flight for this evening, giving me her cell number and saying with grim determination, "And if Iberia gives you any more trouble, call me." I was blown away by this beautiful display of good customer service, as opposed to Iberia. I found out later, as a bit of a slap in the face, that my flight had taken off six minutes early, as if out of spite.

Faith generously decided to take me in for the intervening time, and it was actually nice to have an excuse to catch up with her, Uncle Ken, and Katie. I had been very sad when they moved away from California some time ago, but once I saw the gorgeous forest they live in now, with a pond out back, I was glad the move had treated them so well. It was so green, greener than anything in California this time of year, and incredibly peaceful.

To go see Katie at her academy, Uncle Ken drove me through the beautiful Shenandoah Valley yesterday afternoon. I had read about it in books before, but books don't give a good impression of the particular way the clouds sweep over the open sky, the mountains gleam with a blue haze, or the land sweep out in incredible. . . green-ness. I know that's not a word, but it's the best one I can come up with to describe it. It was neat to catch up with Ken after all this time. Katie's academy was made up of lovely red-brick buildings with white columns, very lovely. Seeing her, talking with her again, was wonderful.

Today I write from Heritage Academy, where Faith is working. Wandering around a school this size has been very cool and enlightening in its own way. One side of this building could probably fit two or three PHAAs in it, and all the hallways are lined with gleaming red lockers. I have been listening to Spanish teachers putting together a curriculum, which has also been good for getting back some of the Spanish I've lost over the year, unfortunately.

Hopefully, the next time I write to you, I will actually be in Greece. Please pray that Iberia does not shaft me again, and I actually make it there. Spending this time in Virginia has been really nice and quite relaxing, but I do wish to get to Greece at some point. Sooner rather than later, as I have already missed a day of class, and will miss another before I get there, if I get there. This I accept as a part of life's adventure, and will just take it as it comes. No use stressing out about what I can't control, and stress is counterproductive, anyway. To that end, I wish all of you a wonderful, stress-less summer, and hope to write to you again soon. . . from Greece.

Honors Field Trip

Well, one year here at PUC come and gone--it's been a wild ride, that's for sure. It has been a year of many journeys, of many adventures, but not ones that have made it into this blog, unfortunately, as they were spiritual journeys rather than geographic ones.

Several weeks ago, however, I did have the pleasure of taking a jaunt into San Francisco for an Honors Field Trip. After a morning of recording voice replacement tracks for an episode of PUC-Ite's (which you really all should watch; there's four new episodes posted since I last posted here), we departed at last for San Francisco.

My heart rejoiced to see the city come into view as we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into what is known by some as the Paris of the Pacific. After getting lost, we had a most excellent lunch at the Pagan Restaurant during which Drs. Sheldon and Fulton finally figured out who I am--they remember my father from when he attended PUC, it turns out.

Then, we went to the Palace of the Legion of Honor. After looking at the fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls (it is humbling to look upon something that old), we were free to wander the museum. Oh! The wonders I saw. Rodin sculpture with such emotive content, gracefully blown glass, baroque furniture and paneling, works of famous Impressionists like Monet and Seurat. I was entranced to look upon all these great paintings, sculptures, and artifacts.

It was hard to tear me away from the museum, but our next stop, the synagogue, was just as fascinating to me. Their music was gorgeous, and though most of it was in Hebrew, it spoke to me in a way that the music at PUC can't--and there was a woman leading the music with the sort of voice that makes you feel as though nothing will harm you, as though everything will be all right. The care with which they lit the candles for Shabbat, the love they expressed for the Torah was. . . touching.

After dinner at Fresh Choice, we came back to PUC for a classically dead Dead Week. Tomorrow I get to go home and start preparing for my adventures in Greece, which will be much better-documented than my time here at PUC has. I would like to thank each one of you who has prayed for me over the year, for it has been of immeasurable value for a variety of reasons. As I leave, may God be with you when I cannot. Hope to see as many of you as possible before leaving, but if that's not possible, just know that I care about you and wish you the best.

Midterm Week

It has been a thoroughly crazy week, dead smack in the middle of midterm season. . . and not over yet; I only allow myself the time to make this post because it gives me something fairly useful to do in the brief amount of time before I rush to the next place I need to be.

The first three photos are from my visit to Elmshaven, the last home of Ellen White, last Sunday for Adventist Heritage. Fascinating tour that will make it hard to keep the report down to three pages. I was most amused to find that one of the women on the tour had met me at the Sacramento Slavic church a few months earlier. Small world.

Most of the beautiful spring blossoms have started to fade, but not those in the church courtyard quite yet--unfortunately, I think the only time I really got to stop and admire them this week was when I took that photo. I've been rushing to get my application for my year abroad in Spain ready, which has kept me on the move. Had to come up with a passport photo, and needless to say, I do like this one way better than the one in my actual passport. Grr. . .

Simple Joys

This post is a tribute to the small but enjoyable things in life--artwork, incense, cats, wandering around the Napa Flea Market with my father while buying absolutely nothing. The first piece of artwork is my own. An art therapist came to campus to work with us on priorities, and that's what I came up with. The pencil drawing of my hand I wish I could say was my work, but is, in fact, the work of my friend Nicole Hubbard. She drew it last quarter, taking six hours to create it. It is now on display at the Rasmussen Art Gallery here at PUC.

Beautiful PUC

These are just a few views of the lovely campus I've been enjoying. The girl at the fountain is my friend Diane, taken as we were enjoying the cool dusk last night after a very warm day. The mummy. . . is me. Diane and I went to an Indiana Jones party, where before we were allowed to watch The Last Crusade, we had to complete three tasks. One of these tasks was to wrap up a team member in toilet paper and carry them to Commencement Grove. . . thus this very attractive view, ha. We had fun, no doubt about it. As you can tell, I've been spending most of my time out of doors--how could I not, with it looking like this? Visit me and see for yourself!

Mt. Shasta

The day after I got my wisdom teeth removed, my family and I began a road trip to Shasta with Christian Edition. The first stop was Placerville, and I so enjoyed seeing Grandma Anabel, Aunt Doreen, and Christian Edition again. CE presented us with a bouquet of beautiful red and orange flowers in Justin's honor. The concert was so inspiring; I actually felt a tear roll down my cheek at one point, and usually I'm so used to hearing the guys sing, it doesn't affect me like that. It also moved me to sing, and not just when I joined Dad at the piano--even though this probably was not the best thing to do, with my mouth still healing from the previous day's extractions.

The next morning we visited Justin's grave, taking great care to lay out the orange, yellow and red flowers beautifully, and to give some to Grandpa Leonard's grave as well. We also went to the Veteran's Memorial at the to of the hill, and looked up the brick there devoted to Grandpa Leonard. It was a beautiful place, which filled me with deep respect for all the men and women who have fought so hard for freedom. After a long while on the road, we reached Paradise, our evening concert appointment. As usual, I joined my dad at the piano for "Kids of the Kingdom," and afterwards, a lady actually asked me if he was my husband. Doesn't that just take the cake? I laughed and corrected her as politely as I could.

After breakfast the next day, we hit the road. Hills gave way to mountains until we reached the snowy base of Shasta itself, snow swirling all around the car. The parents of one of CE's non-singing members have a cabin there, and we shared an incredibly delicious meal there. I enjoyed it in particular, as it was full of a wide variety of soft things I could enjoy with my sore mouth. Somehow, my mother convinced me to go out and play in the snow like a child again, sledding and crashing with great delight. Giggling with glee, I convinced my father to join me in the snow, and we had a wonderful time--he's really good at sledding, actually.

I just really had to admire the scenery on the way to the evening concert in Yreka--the sun was peaking through the steel-gray clouds in the most amazing way, highlighting the volcanic cindercones all around. There, with all my CE uncles and the rhythm of the bus, I felt rather happy. The concert went very well, though I spent most of it outside helping get tables and the like set up. The night was cold afterwards, and we were all very hungry, but the restaurant we selected refused to serve us at that hour, much to our distress.

Fortunately, the next day was full of good food. The Mt. Shasta SDA Church was kind enough to serve us all a generous breakfast, after which Dr. Taylor spoke with me at some length. Wow, the things to learn from him--he had so much wonderful advice, while being encouraging at the same time. I did tables after the concert, and was deeply impressed by how incredibly nice the people were. We had a delicious meal, and then went on our way. We saw the mighty Shasta Dam, with its incredible expanse of concrete stretching from shore to shore of the Sacramento River. It was a truly breathtaking sight, it being twice the size of Hoover Dam. Dad and I also got out and walked the Sundial Bridge, a beautiful structure of glass and white steel.

That evening, as my dad came out and started playing at the top of the concert, I started to cry, realizing this may be the last time I hear it in a while. As the concert progressed, I couldn't stop, not even during "Kids of the Kingdom," of all things. I did not want to go back to PUC so soon, as the previous quarter had been so rough. . . but then, afterwards, as I spoke with another PUC student who had attended the concert, I realized that there are still good things to look forward to this quarter, and hey, I'd better enjoy them.

Now that I am back at PUC, I laugh that I'd felt that way. The weather is incredibly gorgeous, causing me to use every excuse to study outside. I got to see my parents yesterday, so my paranoia regarding that was also unfounded. My plans for the summer are falling together beautifully, with the first half studying Greek in Greece, and the second half working at Wawona again before I take off to Spain for the year. I know I haven't written very much from here, but that is all going to change when I start traveling again. I will also start posting pictures at random intervals on the blog from here, even if there's no post to go with them. The campus here is too beautiful for me to keep it to myself.

Sorry for the length of this one, and thank you for taking the time to read it. I wish you the very best, and hope you have many bright horizons ahead.