Bits and Pieces

As I have been traveling the last several days I have collected a few memorable moments to share.

While on the train from the Rotterdam to Antwerp a couple of Belgium policemen came aboard and as they moved from car to car they noticed the teenage boy sitting across from me who was sleeping with his laptop open and his wallet on top.  One of the policemen took the wallet and hid it behind his back while the other one shook the boy awake and asked for his ID.  The boy looked appropriately surprised and bewildered at the  rude awakening and he hurriedly looked around for his wallet.  The policemen sternly looked on as the boy grew more flustered; finally with a flourish, the policeman produced the wallet and gave a short lecture on the importance of not leaving valuables lying around. The boy nodded along emphatically. The policemen left and I exchanged smiles with  the sheepish teenager.

In the idyllic town of Bruges I stayed at one of the three hostels in town.  Bruges is made up of quaint medieval buildings, canals, swans, and thousands of day trippers.  The town enforces a quiet hour on the streets and therefore my hostel was one of the indoor party spots.  The bar played crazy loud rock music that vibrated throughout the rooms upstairs.  The showers were in one room for guys and girls and only a thin curtain that swayed precariously whenever the door open or closed provided privacy.  Also you had to pull a chain continuously for the water to flow; needless to say I showered quickly and rather frantically.

Stephanie wanted me to write about how I would arrive in France since I had nothing figured out when I left. I was going to take a boring train, but I started looking too late and the boring trains were very expensive, so I ended up taking the bus instead.  Lisanne was skeptical when I told her my plan and so were the other people I met.  I had to hurry to make it in time to check in at the bus station in Brussels 15 minutes before the bus left as the website had said this was very important. I needn't have bothered running through the trains station as the bus left 20 minutes late and the whole check in process was ramshackle.  I met a girl named Megan who was real nice (another fun Megan!) and we sat in the front close to the nervous driver who was pacing to leave. He animatedly yelled at, gestured, and honked at other drivers as we crept through Brussels' city traffic. It appeared we were falling behind the proposed arrival time so I was surprised when we stopped at a reststop and he made everyone get out of the bus and was in no rush to leave quickly (a small kickback perhaps?)  56 kms outside of Paris a copy car in front of us put on its lights and the driver began cursing in both Flemish and French.  The police car guided us to a rest area where two other police cars joined us.  The customs officers came aboard and started checking passports and questioning each passenger on their purpose in going to Paris.  As soon as the officers stepped into the bus the entire demeanor of the driver changed as he gave a pleasant "bonjour" as a greeting.  The whole process took 40 minutes or so as two passengers were randomly selected to be searched outside the bus all the while the bus driver politely had a heart attack aboard the bus. 

Paris is very pretty and the nearby crepes stand chef and I are well aquainted.  I have met many friendly Parisians and tourists but no kindred spirits as of yet (I am excited that I will soon be at Taize).  I was pleased to be able to attend vespers for Ascension Day at Notre Dame as my hostel is only a few blocks away. I still am trying to get used to the spiritual atmosphere of Europe, but it has been challenging.

I guess I shouldn't have complained about the shower situation of my hostel in Bruges as this hostel has no shower curtain.  My roomates and I have a partial curtain improvised from a bedsheet.

One of my favorite moments with the Lord was climbing the eiffel tower at sunset and then enjoying a nighttime snack of a baguette and fairtrade nutella and hearing the cheers as the lights went on (and even louder cheers as they twinkled).  Sometimes it is fun to see how easily pleased we are as humans, but then we tend to be easily displeased too.   People watching in Paris is fantastic (Nathan and Kim I thought of you two).  Watching people flock around the Mona Lisa and try to  take pictures of it over other peoples heads without really looking at it was better than seeing the painting itself (I didn't even try to get close instead  I took a picture of the people taking pictures : )

I guess I didn't have my fill of buses since I took one again to Lyon this afternoon.  I ended up sitting by a friendly Morrocan man who has been living in Spain for the last 15  years, we started taking right away and we kept it up for hours.  We talked about our faiths (he is a muslim), solutions for poverty, the brain drain of nations, the european union, and the current situation in Spain.  Apparently the woman in front of us didn't appreciate our conversation because when I came back from the black hole that is the bathroom she looked at me coldly and said "silence is golden."  I wasn't sure what she was talking about and I must have looked confused because she repeated herself, "silence is golden."  Quite passive aggressive.  I felt bad that she didnt like us talking.  It was awkward in how she went about communicating her displeasure and it squelched my conversation with Youseff; I dwelt on her comment longer than I should have (transforming prayer opportunity?).  The Lord blessed me with the woman who was sitting next to the woman who told me to stop chatting as I was getting off of the bus she said, "you should keep speaking the word of God, I really enjoyed listening to your conversation!"  God is so good to send encouragement when we need it!

I included a few leftover pictures from the Netherlands as I thought a few people would be interested in the prestigious nameplate of the Finnish embassy.

Are You Dutch Enough?

This is my last morning at Lisanne's in the Hague before heading on to Belgium and then France and finally Taize on Sunday!  I have been the recipient of Lisanne's gracious hospitality for going on 11 days now and I smile as Proverb 25:17 comes to mind: "seldom set foot in your neighbor's house -- too much of you, and they will hate you." Hopefully that isn't Lisanne's sentiment : ).

I have so enjoyed my time in the Netherlands, but I have especially enjoyed the conversations I have had with Lisanne.  We had a lovely weekend that started with insight into what it is like to live in a country that uses trains so heavily.  We had planned to go to Utrecht to visit some of Lisanne's old study mates at a local pub Friday night, the signals on the track between Den Haag (the Hague) and Utrecht were not working however so we had to detour all the way to Amsterdam to go to Utrecht (it sounds far but really only took an hour longer).  We had a nice time at the pub and Lisanne's study mates were friendly and we had interesting conversations.  I especially enjoyed my conversation with her friend Eric with whom I discussed his philosophical and world views that were quite Nietzsche-esque (i.e. German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche). I appreciated his desire to have a serious conversation with a stranger at a happy hour type setting and I found parts of his worldview to be similar to that of Christian's, whom I met in Germany, as they both focus on the power of positive thinking and the idea that the world is composed of positive and negative energy.  Sorry, I digress, after the outing with Lisanne's study mates we attempted to go back to the Hague only to find that the signals between the Hague and Utrecht still were not working and now the track between Utrecht and Amsterdam was down as well; so we joined the large crowd hanging out in the rail station sipping free tea waiting for news of a fix.  The news was slow in coming, and although our fries and conversation interrupted by a very excited recently born again Christian was interesting, we decided to see if there was a bus option as it was now 11 p.m.  When we got outside the train station we found a couple of coach buses waiting with a few grumpy transportation attendents who had the pleasant job of getting all of the struck rail travelers home.  There was a bit of confusion about where each bus was going and if the trains were running in those towns, but Lisanne directed us to a bus and we waited in line to get on. The bus looked full and I felt the competitiveness rise inside of me as I boxed out the man angling behind me to get in the bus; this was fortunate as there were only 2 seats left and the man whose luggage occupied Lisanne's seat was reluctant to give it up.  We eventually made it home a bit after midnight.

On Saturday we waited for Lisanne's clothes closet to arrive and then after deciding it was too big/heavy for us to carry up the three narrow and steep flights of stairs (whew!) we let the closet be for Tim to move later. We went for a long walk on the beach and watched the kite surfers and kite surfer wannabes practicing.  It was a bit windy and chilly although sunny and I was grateful for a cup of hot chocolate at the end of the walk.  We had to save up a bit of our energy before our big night of dancing so Lisanne made us a fish dinner and we spent some time enlightening each other on the finer points of each of our cultures musical tastes and you tube videos.  I showed her some music by Gungor and some country music as most American pop/rock is regularly played on Dutch radio stations (I relied on some favorites from my nephew Miles and brother-in-law Jim for these).  When it came time to show awesome you tube videos I had to think back to my wonderful days at Target and all of the pop culture lessons I received from so many co-workers without whom I would have never experienced (and neither would have  Lisanne) the delights of such hits as "the backing up song."  From Lisanne I heard some music from the 1 Dutch rock singer and the 1 Dutch country singer: Anouk and Isle de Lange.  And of course since Lisanne also spent quite some time in Brazil we spent much of the week singing "Tchê tcherere tchê tchê, Tcherere tchê tchê,Tcherere tchê tchê,
Tchereretchê" from Gustavo Lima's "Balada." We also listened to comedians; we both remembered loving the Cosby show growing up so we saw some classics from Bill Cosby and then for American comedians I could only think of the duck material from Mitch Hedberg that Julia and I listened to in college -- I looked for the stuff he did on TV as it tends to be edited ; ).  I couldn't full appreciate Lisanne's selections as they were in Dutch, but her translations were funny so I bet it is even better first hand!  I had a blast dancing with Lisanne until 3:30 a.m. at a Latin place in the Hague Central and then cycling home.  It reminded me of our dancing dates in Costa Rica that were a highlight of my time there so a repeat here in the Netherlands was a treat.  The DJ only spun one merengue song the whole night but we managed to make the most of the song ; ).

Sunday was just about a perfect day.  Lisanne graciously biked me to the English speaking church I had selected (halfway across the city!). She had to bike hard to get there as we left a bit late and when we arrived she was a bit sweaty from her efforts... I owe her big when she comes to visit me!  The worship gathering was very nice and it was neat to hear the heart of Crossroads Church for their city as they seek to be a city of refuge like Christ is a refuge for all people.  I appreciated hearing Lisanne's thoughts on the message over brunch and then we had a long cycle in the forest bursting in green (from the week long rain!) with bridges and canals and we stopped for a warm waffle and chocolate and whipped cream at a small snack shop.  I can't remember a time I have consistently eaten so much chocolate throughout the day.  I have chocolate hagel slag on my bread each morning, hot chocolate in the afternoon when it is chilly or a wafel with chocolate and then of course chocolate for dessert with tea at night -- I'm not complaining, but I'm wondering if I am overdoing it a bit.  We had planned to cycle back to the Hague by biking through a sand dune area but we were unable to find a trail that went that way so we ended up on the beach and so we decided to cycle along the beach which turned out to be quite a lot of work.  I thought it would be fun to cycle along the ocean just at the edge, for some reason Lisanne did not join in this venture, and once I got a large wave, wet shoes and a rental bike with a squeaky chain for my efforts I better understood her wisdom.  The beach route took an extra 1.5 hours but it was beautiful and I did my best to scrape the sandy water off of my bike before returning it.  We finished off the night with some great Surinamese cuisine which is plentiful in the Netherlands.  I am going to miss  the Netherlands, Lisanne and our nightly cup of tea, but one thing I will not miss is riding on the metal bar on the back of a bike over all of the cobblestone streets and ubiquitous tram tracks  -- I'm not Dutch enough to handle that for long.

V-ups and Stroopwafels

I think stroopwafels will be my undoing here in Holland.  They are just so full of sweet sticky caramel-y goodness and I have a hard time resisting them!  I have learned a lot about the Netherlands in my week here by talking with Lisanne, her friends, her sister and her parents. Her father in particular is a fountain of knowledge in European history and the history of the Netherlands in particular.  What I have enjoyed the most however is spending time with Lisanne and catching up with her.  It has been about 8 years since we met in Costa Rica and although we kept up a bit by e-mail it has been special to have this time to get to know her on a deeper level.  She truly is a delightful person; thoughtful, hospitable, funny, and easy going.  We have talked about so many subjects already and I have enjoyed her perspective on history, politics, dredging, foreign policy, food, movies, relationships, and religion.  We've laughed a lot together too and I am happy to say it hasn't always been because of something I did as she has also had her moments.

Here are random bits of culture that I am learning from Lisanne:  you don't need to rinse your dishes when hand washing them because the soap won't hurt you (it takes much will power at times to resist the urge to rinse!), always give bicycles the right of way when walking, how to properly drink mint lemonade, and do not run down the tiny narrow steps that lead up to third floor flats.  I have also learned how to ride on the bike of a bicycle side saddle style while cruising through cobble stone bumpy streets and narrow narrow passages -- it is like doing a prolonged v-up and I feel like those who habitually ride on the backs of bicycles like this must have abs of steel.  We are staying in the Hague right now at Lisanne's place and a couple of nights ago we went to her favorite hole in the wall pizza shop run by a sweet Italian couple.  We sat on the counter as our pizzas were being made and the owner gave us bruschetta and the house wine as we waited; he never stopped smiling as he made the pizzas and the walls of the shop attested to the fact that he was a favorite in the neighborhood as there were pictures of him and many children behind the counter making pizzas.  The pizzas were delicious, but my newly acquired bike passenger skills were put to the test as I had to carry both of the pizza boxes while precariously perched on the bar in back as we whizzed through night traffic (suck in the legs so they are not clipped by passing cars, but not too far in or you hit the spokes all while leaning back to make room for the pizza boxes -- thus the v-up).

Lisanne was able to take Tuesday off of work and we spent the day in Amsterdam.  We went to the Anne Frank house museum; I felt compelled to go since like just about every American child I read the book in middle school and was fascinated by the secret hiding place.  The actual hiding place is stark as all the furniture has been removed at the request of Otto (Anne's father) and there is such a long line as you go through the house that it felt hard to emotionally connect to what I was seeing, still it was interesting.  Lisanne and I had some good discussions about Holland's involvement in WWII and the shame the country has that they were occupied by Germany and many helped the Nazis cause.  Yet every country has shame that it bears for poor decisions and I think recognizing the decisions as poor is a start towards making ammends or at least not making the same bad decision again.  Lisanne is a great tour guide; we wandered all around Amsterdam and saw the medieval buildings that remain as well as random sculptures hidden around, hidden churches that Catholics had during the reformation time, punishment houses for women, and a really neat art deco theater where we watched a movie.  We originally were going to watch Intouchables, and in fact purchased the tickets, but as we walked away from the theater Lisanne realized the movie was in French and the subtitles in Dutch... which would be a really confusing language lesson for me.  Luckily we were able to change the tickets.  We had lunch at Lisanne's favorite restaurant which was delicious with big open face sandwiches with "old cheese"and avocado and veggies on brown bread - I appreciated the insider's knowledge on the restaurant selection.  It was a long but tiring day so we used her sister's flat to make supper and to rest after all of our walking before going to the movie and then home to the Hague.

God has been teaching me about being.  To learn to just be with Him and for that to be enough.  At times it has been hard not to have a distinct purpose for each day and I find myself trying to decipher and create meaningful tasks for myself; and although meaning and purpose are good things, it seems Jesus is wanting me to be satisfied with being present with Him.  Like Martha, from the story recounted in Luke chapter 10 of the Bible, I can attach my identity to doing and I need the Lord's gentle reminder that my identity as one loved and redeemed by Him has already been given to me and it is not changed, down graded or enhanced by what I do or do not do.  I have also had a heightened sense of gratitude that God is. I find myself praising Him more for the fact that He exists than for any specific attribute or blessing.  Since God is, I can rest in the knowledge that am that He sustains all things and all people.  It has been a prayer of mine since I left that God would love me through other people so that I can better learn how to love others and I have found Him to be faithful to show His love to me through others I have encountered which has grown my awareness that as image bearers of God we all have the capacity to be used as His instruments and everyone has something to give or something to teach.

I apologize there is no pictures with this one, but I need wifi to upload them from my phone, so I'll do a pictures post in a few days.

May God who is rich in mercy show His love through you,

Cassie

Pictures - Cologne and Wageninegen, Zeist, Utrecht Holland

These are pictures from my last night in Cologne as well as the memorial parade in Wageninegen, the torch lighting, the concerts on Freedom Day, biking through Zeist and the countryside (sheep, castles and wooden clogs for sale), and a small occupy tent set up in Urecht.

It was very interesting to stay with Lisanne at her boyfriend's university house, especially on the biggest party weekend of the year in Wageninegen.  The torch lighting ceremony and memorial parade with veterans were enlightening to attend; the huge street party and house party gave me another perspective of culture in Holland.

After attending a Dutch cover band concert (the Memphis Maniacs) I was walking to another concert with the others, but I was lagging a bit behind trying to figure out the purpose of a street performance that was going on involving women dressed all in black with broken black umbrellas handing off black suitcases to each other and guarding a white van.  Apparently I was a little too engrossed in the going ons as I walked right into a pole.  If we were in a fight, the pole won. Lisanne looked back in time to see it happen, but her friends missed it.  I think I made the day of those people watching on the side if the street; it really was a textbook example of walking into a pole complete with the ringing sound (the pole, not me). Really though, the resulting mark on my forehead was rather unimpressive and it didn't even bruise yet.

I'm in Zeist now with Lisanne's parents and her sister who also was visiting.  I have been so well taken care of by Lisanne and I am appreciating the history and culture she has to share.  She has a great story about her grandfather who played a part in resisting the German occupation during WWII and his resulting imprisonment in workcamps all over Europe and escape in Belgium.  I am blessed to be able to learn so much from Lisanne and her family during my time with them and I am again reminded of the importance of personal testimonies to link the past to the present and cultures and generations together.

Köln and Wageningen (I can say it correctly now Bridget!)

I spent a couple of days in Cologne (Köln) Germany and there were a couple of highlights or ponderings that I wanted to share from my time there.

On Wednesday I arrived in Cologne and the one place that everyone tells you that you must visit there is the dom (cathedral).  I couldn't fail to see the dom as soon as I arrived as it is right next to the train station and it is so large and imposing that it dominates the skyline in many directions for kilometers.  I think the dom is a rather grotesque structure, garish in its heights and intimadating in the sheer volume it takes up.  I know that many people admire the dom, but I can't help but feel that it gives an altogether one sided impression of the God it celebrates.  It intimidates upon arrival and it has a standoffish feel as though one must come into it only with hesitation.  The dom in Cologne gives the impression that God is awesome and terrible (tremendous) which is true, but it fails to show the character of God that beckons people to come as they are to this awe inspiring God and to surrender to His mercy.  The inside of the dom left me feeling cold as well as it seemed to be more of a museum paying tribute to a dead god of a long ago myth rather than a place of vibrant and holy worship -- this had much to do with the bustle of tourists with cameras in hand, but it was also the spirit of the place.  I went back the next day in the early morning to see if my first impression could be changed and as it was quieter I was able to sit and pray and I warmed up to it a bit more, but I still left feeling that I prefer to meet the Lord outside in the sunshine than in that space.

Aaron Benda gave me a small list of places to visit while in Cologne which included the dom, the botanical gardens and the chocolate museum.  On Thursday I went to the botanical gardens and in the  midst of the beautiful flowers and trees I had such a delightful encounter with a local woman.  I was writing away on a bench thinking through a jumble of thoughts when a lady happened by.  She had flaming red hair cut short and stylish and she was wearing a puffy long black trench coat jacket with a shiny black Chanel bag.  She looked down at me as she was walking by and made a comment to me in German.  I smiled and nodded.  She paused and said "Oh, are you English?"and I said, "No, I am American."  Óh, she said and then she went on to tell me how she used to like America back in the 50's after the war.  She has relatives from Baltimore and she would go and visit them.  She does not like America any more. It is poor there.  The last time she visited her relatives she was dressed better than them!  "It is better here now," she said, "it is good you are here."  I informed her that I was not living here, but I was just visiting.  She looked me up and down and said, "You like America?" and I indicated that I did.  She looked at me inquiringly and then relaxed as she came to a conclusion, "Ah... because you live there."  She then asked me for  my occupation and walked away with a final "ciao."  I couldn't stop smiling as she walked off; it was so fun to sit and replay our conversation in my head and to think of all the different applications there are for it.  Her bluntness, style, character and choice of words all came together to make a delightful combination for a memorable encounter and it made me ponder if I ever assume that because a foreigner is living in the US that they must consider it to be better than their own country; I hope not.  Either way it was a good object lessons on making cultural assumptions.

I did make it to the chocolate museum as well, but when I got in line for a ticket I started having doubts... was I really there to learn intricate details of the chocolate making process or was I there to visit the museum store and eat chocolate?  I was there to eat chocolate. Therefore I saved 8.5 euros and skipped straight to the museum store for mango chocolate.

On Thursday night I met two German guys who were staying at my hostel. One was an Iraqi who had came to Germany as a child and was trying to find a flat in Cologne where he was working (Wisami) and the other was a would be university student on an indefinite holiday (Christian).  Christian and I went out to test his new camera that he had come to Cologne to purchase; there was almost a full moon and it reflected well off of both the Rhine and the dom at night. We had an interesting conversation about our differing world views; Wisami had said he was of the Sabean religion (which curiously uses a cross with a sheet in front of it as their special symbol but they do not follow Jesus Christ) and Christian said that he believed in thinking positive thoughts and waiting for things to come to him but he believed this was not necessarily true for everyone and he was satisfied that it worked for himself. Wisami and I didn't have a chance to talk more about the Sabean religion as he needed to go to bed early for work, but what he did tell me sounded fascinating so I will have to look the religion up on my own.  Christian and I had more of a chance to chat about his ideas on life as we took pictures and I felt like I was able to understand him better as he tried to articulate his thoughts.  I know I can ask a lot of questions when I am trying to figure something out, so I wasn't sure that he was glad he had asked me to accompany him to photograph Köln after I got done asking him all of my questions (anyone who has been on the receiving end of my endless questions can attest to this), but it couldn't have been too bad since he helped me find my train in the morning.  I will be interested to know if in a couple of years Christian is still satisfied with his idea that if things work out for him then he has nothing more to think about; I have a feeling that some day he will care a great deal about whether or not things are working out for other people.

I arrived in Holland today and I am so happy to be here with Lisanne!  I met Lisanne in Costa Rica about 7 years ago and this was our first time seeing each other since then. She met me at the train station in Urecht and we journeyed on to Ede-Wageningen to her boyfriend's university house together. Her boyfriend Tim lives in the center of this small town above a bakery in a quirky old house that is a serious university  house complete with a three step process for going to the bathroom (visiting the WC or toilet -- but you can't wash your hands in there because the sink is full of toilet paper rolls and a notepad where people jot notes to each other between times -- and on to a small laundry/shower area off the kitchen where you wash your hands -- but you can't dry your hands in there as there are no towels -- so your last stop is the kitchen to dry : ), writings and drawings on the walls, and many odd things hanging from the ceiling -- not all of them respectable, yet very much at home in a typical university house.  Tim is great (not suprising since Lisanne is) and so are his housemates who cooked us a semi elaborate dinner of two different asparagus courses (Julia would approve of the in season local menu) which we ate in the tiny living room-add-a-coffee-table-and-it-is-a-diningroom.  Today (while yesterday since I am typing this late) was Holland's memorial day so we attended a memorial service where they have two  minutes of silence to honor those who have died and fought in a war.  There were memorials at various spots around the country.  We went to one at a Jewish memorial. Wageningen is the city where the Netherlands and Germany signed a peace treaty on May 5, 1945 and so many large celebrations happen in this small city. Late at night we went down a block to a square where a torch was lit from the flame that always burns in Wageningen and runners went out to all the other provinces in Holland with these torches.  There was a drama performed which had a number of odd facets not the least of which was the musical selection which featured a piano instrumental version of TLC's "Waterfalls." As the torches were lit the trumpeter on site played the national anthem along with Old McDonald had a farm and As the Saints Go Marching in which was quirky and fun.

 I am going to sleep now in my "penthouse" room (well it is at the top of the house) that I am using while one of the housemates is away for Friday night. It has a neat view of Waneningen and access to the roof and his computer (thanks to Tim)-- tomorrow is supposed to be a crazy party day with 8 music stages around town and many many partiers and with the house's location right on the center square and 16 house guests coming to squeeze into this tiny house tomorrow and the fact that the university just got done with finals week I am anticipating the fact that I will not sleep much.

This was a really long post, but I do not think I will be able to do one for a few days so I thought it'd be best to get one done now while the memory of the woman with flaming red hair is still fresh enough in my mind to make me smile.

I hope you all have a very good night; thanks to everyone who have sent me e-mails, I will respond to them as soon as I am able.  Please let me know if you have any prayer requests that I can join with you in intercession for.

In Him whose light is life,

Cassie

High Speed!

Mainz and Weisbaden
On Tuesday So Raya came over and we wandered around Mainz, she showed me her favorite sites and everywhere else her boyfriend suggested as he called every 20 minutes or so (he is proud of Germany and he wanted me to have a good impression of it).  So Raya wasn't as concerned, perhaps because she is originally from Iran and although she has lived in Germany most of her life she has two cultures.  It was a great pleasure to spend the day with So Raya as she is kind and very interesting, we had good conversations about faith in God and where we find our peace.  She identifies herself as muslim but she stopped practicing the religion when she was 16 because she no longer believed it to be true.  Listening to So Raya's story made me think again about the importance of telling our stories to others.  Life stories are powerful as they can convey a truth, an idea or a belief in an easy to comprehend way that is both personal (that is intimate) and interesting, and personal experiences can be hard to refute.  As I listened to So Raya and the questions she had about finding peace I was drawn in and it made me question how I choose which stories to tell which people and which are the ones that God would want me to tell?
So Raya and I visited churches in Mainz and Weisbaden and the healing waters in Weisbaden.  I convinced So Raya that we should go down and touch the healing water even though it was dirty, unfortunately we had to reach way down to get to the water and all So Raya got was goose poop on her hand for her troubles.

The Slide
While wandering around Mainz in the evening on my own I encountered a strange slide in one of the many parks. The slide was at the top of a large hill; the tower to climb up it was in a windmill and the slide was composed of a long steel tube that was enclosed for the better part of the hill and opened at the bottom (perfect for dumping children onto the ground once they reached peak speed).  This indeed was an impressive slide and I was curious to try it, but I hesitated, not because of fear of course, but because of the couples lounging about around the park who may be disrupted by a large figure shooting out of a metal tube at high velocity.  Now I had a conundrum: to slide or not to slide?  I paused and considered how Meghan had requested that I write about embarrassing incidents on this blog; sigh, the choice was made: I would slide.  Even with the decision made I found myself hoping a small child would happen upon the slide to test it out first.  As luck would have it a young girl, age 8 or so, in a pink sweatshirt came up to the slide with her mom.  The girl stood at the base of the windmill and looked at it wearily while her mother coaxed her up.  Eventually they made it all the way to the top where some negotiations were made (all in German of course, but I could tell from the tone of her voice the girl had reservations).  Finally it was decided that the mother would accompany her daughter and down they came; the little girl let out robust screams even though I could hear her mother slowing them down by bracing against the sides of the slide and they came shooting out.  The daughter looked relieved if not happy, so then it was my turn.  I deftly climbed up the inside of the windmill (despite the poor German engineering of the ladder) and made it to the top, I paused to take in the scenery and who should appear?  The pink sweatshirt girl was back and this time with her dad.  So as to be polite I motioned for the pink sweatshirt girl to go first, with equal chivalry she shook her head no and motioned for me to go first. In the cramped quarters at the top of the windmill we were at a standstill.  Luckily her father broke the truce of niceties and had his daughter go with him first.  Down they went (she screamed again).  I was next, so with gusto I begun my descent. I began to pick up speed quickly but felt I could neither grip the sides to slow myself down nor scream as pink sweatshirt girl and her dad would be watching and I needed to preserve my dignity. Thus, at full speed and just a mild "eeee eeee e" I dropped out of the enclosed portion and bounced to the end of the slide just catching myself with my feet so I wouldn't land on my butt.  Whew! I looked back at pink sweatshirt girl's dad and mumbled and motioned about the surprising velocity of the slide while I collected myself. He nodded sympathetically in acknowledgment of the lack of grace with which I slid down the slide and said "high speed!"  Disclaimer:  the windmill slide is much more ferocious than it appears in the picture below.

Pictures
So Raya in Mainz, picnickers during Germany's labor day holiday, So Raya and I, the infamous windmill slide, me nervously considering the infamous windmill slide, the Rhine at sunset, the nasty fountain water of a fountain that pictured children hurting each other or animals (4 different sculptures on the four corners) with a little boy giving an apple to the baby Jesus held by Mary at the top ??, a boy twisting/squeezing a girl's arm with the girl visibly looking pained, the Germanic obsession with putting couples names on locks and locking them to bridges, and finally - an example of TPing a tree in Germany?